Lunge stared up at the wall across from him. He had been staring at that wall everyday for the three weeks he had been in this hospital. It didn't change. The cracks in it still numbered five; the chip that looked vaguely like France was still there. He wondered why he still checked for them as soon as he opened his eyes in the morning and then every hour on the hour. He shifted, the gunshot wound in his stomach protested. He stifled a grunt of discomfort.

He must not have stifled it very well, because there was a concerned gasp from the doorway. Turning, expecting to find a nurse, he gaped at the man hovering in the doorway to his room. Only, being Lunge, his gape looked more like a stony glare of indifference. "Dr. Tenma."

"He-hello. I was… in the area and thought I'd come by. See how you were doing. You know." He actually looked down at the floor and scuffed his feet, like an erred schoolboy. The words "Tenma" and "Schoolboy", not to mention "erred" all in one sentence made Lunge hastily look back at his wall. Yes. Five cracks. Same as always.

"I should congratulate you on your release of charges, Doctor."

"Oh. Yes. That. Not all charges, Inspector. An escape from prison is still an escape even if the man is proven innocent. The sentence was reduced to community service though. I think they are all being lenient due to the…odd nature of the truth."

"Hmm." A truth Lunge himself had failed to see. Not until almost too late. He caught a blur of motion out of the corner of his eye.

"Dr. Tenma."

"Hm?"

"What are you doing?"

"Wha-? Oh! Sorry." Tenma let his hand trail away from the bandages around Lunge's head and sat down on the little chair that was reserved for guests.

Lunge nodded to acknowledge the apology, but still did not look at the young man.

"It just looks…tight. Too tight. The bandages."

"Hm."

"Did you recently move rooms inspector?"

"Why would you ask that, Doctor?"

"I thought maybe they hadn't moved the flowers and presents…yet." His voice faded into embarrassed silence. There were no flowers and presents.

Lunge glanced at the doctor, then back at the wall in front of him. "I think you're my first visitor, Doctor Tenma. I am not counting the reporters or those on police business of course. Though I must admit that I am a bit taken a back as to why you chose to visit me."

"Surely your family…" Again he trailed off, shifting in his seat.

"I have no family anymore, Doctor Tenma. I gave them up to chase you." He almost regretted saying the words, watching Tenma wince at them. They had been said without any rancor or particular regret behind them, but the doctor would take them as such.

The chair creaked as Tenma once again tried to get comfortable in it. He then glanced at his watch. "I have to…leave." He rose to his feet and made a vague gesture in the direction of the door.

"Yes."

Tenma waited a moment to see if Lunge would say more. When he didn't, Tenma all but fled from the room.

Lunge sighed, leaned back on the bed, transferring his gaze from the wall to the ceiling. The doctor was looking better. Hair cut and face scrubbed clean to almost what he had looked like when he had blushed at their first meeting and Lunge's hand had clasped his a second longer than necessary. Tenma should have kept his hair a bit longer. He had looked better with his pale face framed by that thick black hair. Forlorn, tragic. Just that bit closer to the inspector's world. Enough to dream on.

A small tap on the door startled him. He turned. Tenma hesitated in the doorway, all but hiding behind a vase of flowers.

"Ah." Was all Lunge could think to say.

Tenma took this as an invitation and entered the room. He set the vase on the bedside table and sat once again on the chair. "The gift shop was closing. I wanted to buy you something. Make the room less bleak."

"Thank you." Lunge had to fight hard to keep the phrase from ending in a question.

And Tenma beamed at him.

Lunge fidgeted with the blankets, shifted around, trying to get comfortable. Failing that, he sighed. "I must admit that sometimes they do tie the bandages too tight."

Tenma was on his feet in an instant and bending over Lunge. "I thought so. Besides I wanted to…not that I don't trust the doctors here, just I would rest easier…set my mind at ease if I could personally look at the…" He tsked and fussed over Lunge, unwrapping the bandages, smoothing hair back, lightly ghosting a finger around the wounds. It took all of Lunge's famed will power not to lean into that touch, eyes half closed and purring like a cat.

"It looks like it's healing up nicely." Tenma reluctantly admitted rewrapping the bandages. When he was done, Lunge had to admit that they were looser and more comfortable than before.

Tenma sat back in the chair. Lunge stared at the wall, coughed, shifted. "If you also wanted to look at the shoulder wound…" And Tenma was once more on his feet. I am going to hell, Lunge thought. But when Tenma's fingers accidentally brushed his chest when helping him remove his arm from the gown, he thought it would be well worth it.