Gwen and Bobby
Gwen wheeled herself outside, wanting to be away from as many people as she could be. If she stayed inside the room for any longer, she'd probably go insane. Her arms and hands were re-clothed in the ever familiar black gloves.
She stopped under some trees, staring blankly into the bushes, wondering if she got lost in there, how long she could keep going before she ran away from her problems.
Bobby approached her slowly.
"Gwen?"
She didn't turn her head. "At the time, it hurt so badly, and I remember thinking, 'I wish I couldn't feel anything'. And now... looks like my wish came true, right?"
"Gwen," Bobby sighed, sitting down on a patch of grass next to her. "Are you ok?"
"Peachy."
"Vort... he told me what happened."
"Oh. Well I suppose you're here to play counsellor then, yes?"
"I'm here as a friend."
Silence.
"But I can't help you if you don't talk to me."
Gwen turned to look at him. "Well, maybe I don't wanna talk. Maybe, I don't want to spill out what I'm feeling. Maybe, maybe I don't even want to... don't even want to..." Gwen faltered as her tears spilled down her cheeks and into her mouth. "Don't even want to live."
Bobby lay a hand on her gloved one. "Gwen, no... come on now... you're a fighter, you always have been, and that's... the important thing is you're alive... and you still have Mordred, your husband, and he loves you, and me, hey Gwen, please, come on, I love you too, you're my best friend, come on."
Gwen peeled her glove off and gave him enough of a shock to knock him out, then worked the wheelchair, taking off into the bush, not knowing where she was going, and soon finding herself lost. She sat in a clearing and let herself cry.