"Mr. Waite?" she said. Jason stood.
"Mr. Hardison. Mrs. Waite's my grandmother." When the nurse looked hesitant for a moment, he added, "I have her power of attorney." That seemed to satisfy the woman, who nodded and held open the doors.
Jason stood and started to follow, then glanced back at Kyara. "Do you want to come, too?" he asked. His eyes, red-rimmed and vulnerable, begged her to follow.
"Is she family, too?" asked the nurse, her voice carefully neutral.
"This ... this is my fiancée," said Jason after a moment. "Right, Honey?"
Kyara stared at him for a long moment, his desperate posture begging her to go along with the deception.
Finally, Kyara stood. She took his hand and followed him through the doors.
What followed was a blur. Long, identical hallways and carefully blank, anonymous faces ferried them from place to place. Jan was resting quietly, dehydrated but alive.
Kyara mostly watched Jason. He was focused, asking all the right questions. But beneath that, she saw him struggling. He looked exhausted, his shoulders slumped and his head dropped forward whenever they were alone in the room. His eyes had turned a murky blue, deep and hollow next to the red which rimmed them.
When they started asking him about nursing facilities, Kyara decided to put a stop to it.
"Can we discuss this tomorrow?" she asked, cutting off a doctor. "My fiancé here is clearly exhausted, and you've said yourself that you're keeping her for observation tonight."
The doctor, a short, round little woman who looked like a vaguely offended miniature pony, nodded grudgingly.
"Great," said Kyara, looping her arm through his. Jason blinked at her, though whether he was upset or confused she wasn't sure.
Kyara let him give his goodbyes to his still sleeping grandmother, then led him out into the parking lot.
Darkness had closed in, turning an already cold day into icy chill. Jason tried to pull away from her, but Kyara held onto him.
"Thank you again for being there," he said. "I ... it really helped."
"Of course," said Kyara, nodding up at him. Jason stared down at her arm, still firmly looped around his.
"My car's over there," he said, gesturing with his free hand. "And it will be hard to drive without my arm."
"Nonsense," said Kyara, doing her best to channel her mother at her bossiest. "I know what it's like to have family in the hospital. You're in no condition to drive home back over those mountains. I'll take you, and bring you back in the morning."
Jason looked at her, not saying a word. Finally, he pulled her arm to him, once, in a tiny hug.
Kyara led him to her car.
The drive back was long, and mostly quiet. Jason rested his head on the cold glass of the window, just staring into nothing. Kyara focused on navigating the twisting turns of the road in the dark. The pines along the road looked like huddled monks, leaning in to pray. What they were praying for, Kyara couldn't say.
When the lights of Main Street finally hit his eyes, Jason stirred.
"Can you drop me at my Grandmother's house? I want to bring her some of her things, and I'll be closer for going back in the morning." He sounded distant and lost. Kyara nodded.
"That's fine," said Kyara. "I'm pretty tired, too, and am not sure I want to find a new place in the dark this late. I can pick you up from her house in the morning, and we can go see her."
Kyara pulled up in front of her restaurant. The house across the street looked like a skull in the dark, its empty windows the staring eyes in the white paint bone. Jason studied it with miserable eyes. Kyara watched him, her own memories of loss looming large behind her.
He shouldn't be in that giant, freezing house by himself tonight.
"Hey," Kyara said before Jason could start to get out. "Why don't I come in and help you get the fire restarted?"
He looked at her quizzically.
"Do you even know how to start a fire?" he asked gently.