There is quiet crying coming from this one room.

...

He knocks gently.

There is a soft eeping sound, and then a moment of silence, and then a soft voice says "...Come in?"

He comes in.

"Hey. You okay?"

"I'm fine." (She's clearly not.) "Who are you?"

"Scott. McCall. Scott McCall? My mom's a nurse here, and I was just bringing her dinner. What about you?"

"Anna-Sophia Sayers."

"Nice to meet you, Anna. What are you here for?"

"My first name is Anna-Sophia, it's hyphenated."

"Anna-Sophia. Sorry. Um, do you need anything? It seemed like- well, do you need anything?"

Shrug. Huddle.

"...how about I get you some food. Decent food, from across the street. There's Chinese, a sandwich shop, and a bakery, but that's probably closed."

"--Okay."

"They probably said you can buzz if you need blankets or water, but I can get that on my way back, if you need it."

Shrug.

He steps out, closing the door gently behind him.

He retrieves his order of Chinese with a grateful smile, and retrieves a sandwich for Anna-Sophia. He's not sure what she likes. He avoids meat and cheese and takes both meals back with him.

After a quick stop at the nurse's station, he knocks on her door again.

"Come in?"

"Food and blankets," says a familiar voice, though his face is currently obscured by blankets.

"...Thanks."

He deposits the blankets at the foot of her bed, and approaches to hand her the food.

She takes it carefully. Her eyes dart to the door.

"Is everything okay?"

"Mhm." (No.)

"Do you want to talk about it? I'm not really sure if you're just trying to be polite here, I don't want to bother you."

"Wouldn't help."