You're doing what?! [Anya]

[Morgan Tonaya]

Morgan heard a lot of things lately. He could recognize voices now, sometimes footsteps of people he interacted with constantly. He’d even learned to recognize the sound someone made just when they were about to sneeze. All in all, his ears were definitely becoming his best friend. However, he was starting to hear things that he really didn’t like. Most of them concerned Anya. And how she was walking.

Not just walking, mind you, but doing precisely everything the doctor had told her not to.

He’d shot her a text to meet him between classes in the staff lounge. She needed a talking-to, that woman! When his planning period arrived, he bid farewell to his class. Locking up his classroom, Morgan switched on his laser cane and made his way towards the staff lounge.

Morgan shouldered the door open, tilting his head slightly to see if he could hear any signs of life. “Hello?” He greeted tentatively, probing for some interaction before he strode into the room. He waited for the beep of his cane in the blue-tooth like piece in his ear, lurching to a stop. Groping about before him, his hands fell on a chair. Grinning triumphantly, he lowered himself into the chair and waited for Anya to arrive, thinking of precisely what he would say to her.

[Anya Vasiliev]

Anya had pretty much been a terrible patient to her doctor. She hadn't rested, she'd grudgingly taken her medication and determinedly gotten back to her regular schedule. She walked Orpheus before work, then cycled back home in the afternoon to walk him and take him out again, then cycle home once more in the evening to get dinner ready. So the cycling was a little (a lot) uncomfortable, and her leg twinged something terrible during the day, and kept her up half the night, but she was coping.

When she'd received the text during her mid-afternoon class, her eyebrows had shot up, but she'd given a rare smile. Morgan was easily becoming one of her favourite people to spend time with, and she'd willingly go off to see him between her three o'clock class and her four thirty.

Limping down the corridors, she finally got to the Staff lounge and shouldered her bag down in the corner. She bent over to pull out a small box of chocolate and cranberry cookies, then settled down beside Morgan and tapped him gently on the shoulder.

"I see you're getting around alright." Anya said warmly, stroking Morgan's arm lightly, before setting the box in his lap. "I brought some cookies in for the students, but I thought you might like some." She settled back in the chair, tilting her head in curiousity. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

[Morgan Tonaya]

Morgan’s face ticked into a smile when he felt an arm on his shoulder, knowing that the person he’d heard come into the room was Anya. He’d meant to keep his face stern, but it was rather difficult when she offered him cookies and was seeming so chipper and things. Anya was definitely a different person at school, as she tended to be more stern with the students than she ever was around Morgan, but that didn’t mean he could manage to be the same.

“Well if they’re for your students, I guess that means I can’t eat all of them.” He said with an over-dramatic sigh. “These are the tragedies of my life.” He joked, taking a cookie and munching thoughtfully on it. “These are amazing, but I don’t want to talk about cookies.”

He swallowed his cookie and stared sternly at his knees, where his eyes naturally gravitated. “I hear that you haven’t been following doctor’s orders.” Morgan said. He wasn’t accusing her, just stating the facts for now. “Is that true, Anya?”

[Anya Vasiliev]

Anya knew she was a stern woman in her classes, and in general round the school, but there was no point in being such around Morgan. He made her feel much brighter and happier, and that was nothing to push away. She sank into the chair gratefully, and almost felt tempted to close her eyes. Perhaps she really had been working too hard - but she'd begun to realise the apartment was a little too small now she had Orpheus, and it'd be nice if she could afford her first proper house.

"You can if you want." She said playfully, nudging Morgan's arm. "I'll just tell them Mr. Tonaya devoured their incentive to work hard." Her nose wrinkled as she laughed, and she put her hands in her lap with surprise when Morgan said he didn't want to talk about cookies. "Oh? Not interested in my baked goods, this must be serious." She jested.

But then Morgan said something about doctors orders and she scowled, looking every bit the strict trainer. "I don't have time to sit around idly, hoping to get better. I need to get into school, and the bicycle is the only way to do so. I also need to walk Orphie, or he'll make a mess in my apartment, and I need to do my shopping." She paused then, shaking her head. "I'm fine anyway, only a little twinge every now and then."

[Morgan Tonaya]

Morgan laughed and shook his head. “Now I didn’t say that. I’m always interested in baked goods. I’ve had to start exercising more just to keep up with the new intake.” He sighed and patted his stomach in a fond memory of the cookie he’d devoured so quickly. “You definitely have a gift, that’s for sure.” He said, nodding resolutely. “But no distractions allowed; cookies included.”

Resting his hand on the table in attempt to get across the levity of his point, Morgan tapped his fingers slightly. “By now you shouldn’t be in any pain at all, Anya. There are people around to help you do all those things while you get better. Like Doctor Neville and the Campbells. And me, duh.” He pointed out, suddenly sounding exasperated. “If you don’t take care of your leg it’s pretty possible that in the future you won’t get to do any of those things. Have you been taking your medicine?”

Though they weren’t focused in the right direction, it was very clear that Morgan’s eyes held a generous measure of concern, his brow creased heavily. Doctors orders were orders for a reason, and they didn’t go through all that schooling just to make stupid calls.

[Anya Vasiliev]

Anya grinned over at Morgan and took a cookie for herself, as though sampling it. "I'm sure Jordan helps you exercise, yes?" She teased gently. "Or perhaps you should start sharing my treats with him." She imagined the terrier with a large gut, and started laughing, her head shaking.

The laughter did die when Morgan rammed home his point, and Anya folded her arms around herself. "I don't want to bother the Campbells, they still have things they need to sort out. Sean has just had the worst talk in all his years, and you..." She looked over at Morgan. "I ... you need to look after yourself, not worry about me." Her hand rested on her thigh, where the bullet wound was, and she looked down at it.

"I've been taking the medicine, yes." She said quietly, moving her hand back and forth over the red scar. "I just don't want to burden people. It was my own fault I got shot in the first place, and I shouldn't imagine Mr. Adams feels any better than I do." Her voice went even quieter then. "If... if he survived." Clearly shaken, she drew herself up into a ball and tried to steel herself, jaw clenching. "I appreciate that you care, I do. But I'll be fine."

[Morgan Tonaya]

“The doctors told me I’ve made a full recovery. That’s why I’m back at school.” He explained to Anya, though there was slight measure of annoyance in his voice. He felt the same way Anya did: he was perfectly capable, even with a new handicap. He wanted things to be normal, needed them to be that way…but he knew they wouldn’t unless he listened to the experts and didn’t exert himself. “And I’m very capable of helping you. I worry about you because you don’t seem to want to accept help.”

He heard shuffling sounds, but was unable to tell exactly was Anya was doing, only that she was uncomfortable. Good. He was surprised no one had given her this talking to before now. “You’re not being a burden, Anya. If you were no one would bother to ask you how you were doing.” Morgan pointed out in an uncharacteristic display of cynicism. “People want to help because they care. Especially me. Anya…” He sighed and rubbed his face. “You’re a good friend to me. You were there for me more than anyone else after the accident.”

Laying his hand back on the table, Morgan’s face set grimly. “Jesse…wasn’t your fault. And you don’t deserve to be punished for what happened, even by your own hand.”

[Anya Vasiliev]

"I'm glad." Anya said quietly, peering into Morgan's face. "I did some research online and there's apparently a really good chance you'll see again." She moved her hand over and gave Morgan's a light squeeze. The words that the blonde man said next caused her to hang her head and take a deep, shuddering breath. "It's not that." She began tentatively, moving her free hand to rest on her chest.

She sucked in a breath and frowned. "It really isn't." Her voice wavered then, and she edged over to rest her cheek slowly on Morgan's shoulder. "I just... I struggle." Her words broke as she continued to speak. "It's not that I don't want someone to rely on, I just... have a problem with it." The Russian woman took the box of cookies from Morgan's lap and set them on the table. It took her every ounce of strength to continue to speak.

"I sympathised with you before you were blind for many reasons. To be betrayed by someone you loved... I ... my ex-husband was my childhood sweetheart. He knew I was meta when we got married, but it seemed to aggravate him the longer we were together. Eventually he became aggressive, locking me in the house, selling me to the newspapers ... in Russia... which is so dangerous." She put her hand over her chest and breathed.

"The point is, I feel... I should only trust myself, and I can't be weak." She steeled herself, then blinked hard, to stop herself crying. "It was the anniversary of our divorce a few days ago."

[Morgan Tonaya]

Morgan shrugged, squeezing her hand gently. “It doesn’t matter anymore. At least I’m alive.” He pointed out. He’d been telling himself that since the accident, and there were days where he still didn’t quite believe it, but today was not one of them. Today, he was at peace with the dark. He looked concerned when Anya drew away her hand, his fingers folding reluctantly to his palms.

He pulled his fingers into a surprised fist when Anya rested her head on his shoulder, surprised at the sudden contact. He relaxed though and listened intently to her explanation, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Anya…” he murmured when she had finished, turning and gently taking her by the shoulders. “relying on others isn’t weak. Sometimes it’s the strongest thing you can do to admit you need to let someone else in.”

He squeezed her shoulders gentle and exhaled softly. “You can’t just go it alone the rest of your life.”Suddenly self-conscious, he let Anya’s shoulders go and moved his hands back to his lap. “Happy Anniversary?” Sheepishly, he laughed to cover his discomfort with his desire to tear her ex a new ass hole. “And your friends are not your ex. We’re here to protect you.” He sighed and reached out for her again. “I’m here to protect you, Anya. I want you to be safe, and healthy. And definitely, definitely I want you to be happy.”

[Anya Vasiliev]

Anya was surprised when Morgan squeezed her hand, and smiled as an unexpected warmth filled through her chest. "I'm glad for that." She said quietly, fondly pulling some of Morgan's hair from his face. It was just such a shame that this burden fell on her shoulders so heavily.

But it felt better to speak about it, and she let out a soft breath as Morgan took her shoulders. "I know. I'm just..." Her voice squeaked, and she felt her eyes burn irritatingly. "Afraid." She managed a small smile, despite knowing Morgan couldn't see it. His grip was soothing, and she put her hands up to rest on his wrists, trying to steel herself and be strong like she'd taught herself to be so many years ago.

"I know I can't. I'm realising that." Anya admitted, biting on her lower lip. "It's just difficult to remember how to be that way." She blotted under her eye with her thumb and blinked a few times. "You're my Hal Jordan." Her voice was warm, humoured, and she gently threw her arms around Morgan's shoulders, kissing his cheek. "And I'll try and ask for help, I will." Her voice drew thin then, and she looked over at the calendar hanging from the opposite wall. "I promised you skiing lessons though, and it's nearly ski season." To hell with the fact Morgan couldn't see - she was sure he could enjoy the snow with her when it came. "I don't break promises, so I'd better be well enough to ski soon."

And perhaps the cooler weather would chill the glowing heat she felt in her chest.