B was getting frustrated.
They remembered a little of what they had been like before. B had been able to do so many things. They had been a star in the rising, they could have achieved so much, if only they’d been given the chance.
Someone so useless, they couldn’t even stop their hands from shaking and eat soup in a normal way.
Maybe C was right in saying they should have died that night, in saying they did deserve all of this, that they’d earned it-
“B? You alright there?” A said, putting a hand gently on their shoulder. A would never hurt them, B knew that, still they couldn't help but flinch. “You zoned out for a bit”
“Yes, I’m sorry” B’s voice was other thing that had changed. Before everything, it was clear and filled with barely contained laughter. Now, A had to strain to hear it.
A kept quiet, silently prompting them to finish their sentence. B was trying to learn how to do that again, too.
“It’s just-” they looked down to their plate and the mess on the table “the soup and- and my hands- I’m so sorry”
A gave a little squeeze to their shoulder before releasing it, and moving away, just enough so they could grab a cloth from a nearby counter, and B could feel themselves relaxing just a little at the increase of distance.
They hated themselves for that.
Much too soon, A returned and talked to them in that gentle tone they had taken to using lately.
A had changed too. B remembered them as hot-tempered and always ready to make remarks, not that they’d cared before. Now, A speaks as if they could break B with nothing more than a bad word choice.
Thinking about it, B thinks they are right.
“Hey, baby steps alright?” A started to diligently clean the drops of spilled soup off the table “No one’s asking you to be better this quickly, healing is a process, you know.”
B just nodded, trying hard not to think about how much they were inconveniencing A. Poor, kind A, who was stuck with a mess like them.
They needed to man up and get back to normal quickly, if just to lift the burden off A.
A was still now, sitting in the chair beside them, pulling B out of their thoughts yet again. They didn’t notice A getting there, but now the table was clean and the used cloth was gone and B had to resist the urge to cry.
“Yes,” they managed to say through the lump on their throat.
A sighed gently and stood up, facing the window. After what felt like an eternity they spoke again.
“You know, the garden has been a little sad without you. All the flowers are in need of some water”
They recognized the invite immediately.
B had taken a liking to tend to the garden on the days where they were well enough- present enough- to do it.
It was a thing they could still do. They could gently pour water over the flowers, and watch how little drops raced to fall down the leaves, they could make sure none of them plants was left thirsty. They could fo that.
They always set the hose at its lower capacity, only a tiny thread of water flowing out, so there was no way they could fuck anything up. It took far more time than it should, but A didn’t seem to mind, and B had decided they would try not to mind either.
Out there, they could feel the wind sweep through their hair and the warmth of the sun on their skin. They had liked that before. They still liked it now.
They sensed themselves relaxing, just a little.
“What do you say? Shall we go?” B could hear the smile in A’s voice, and could feel the start of something close to eagerness in their own.
The garden seemed like a good idea.