Heck.

Gilbert was not good at this listening thing.

The problem was he wasn't getting much to listen to.

His hey there Mattie! had been greeted with a hum. Gilbert had waited, hoping for more, but Matthew's attention had since wandered.

His how's it going buddy? had been received with a sort of lopsided shrug, which was more than Gilbert was used to but not nearly as much as he had hoped. The silence had lengthened, and then habit had kicked in, because Gilbert wasn't just going to sit there and do nothing. So he started chatting, about nothing in particular, and it wasn't until a number of minutes had passed that he realized that this was exactly what he wasn't supposed to be doing.

He stopped.

This was off to a bad start.

Gilbert had tried not to let his smile drop as he gathered his thoughts. How was he supposed to do this? Ludwig hadn't really given him much to work with. He was supposed to be patient, supportive…

A soft noise drew his attention. Gilbert blinked back to the present, focusing on Matthew. Matthew was giving him a funny look.

"Sta… sto—pped?" There was a hint of a grimace, but Matthew seemed to swallow it back as he tilted his head at Gilbert inquisitively. His hands bunched into the material of his blanked.

Wow.

Matthew was worried about him.

Gilbert was really not good at this listening thing.

"Yeah dude, my bad," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't mean to just stop like that… I was just um, thinking." But hey, Gilbert couldn't help but note to himself, at least Matthew had said something.

The following silence began to stretch, but Gilbert made himself wait for some indication of acknowledgment. He finally received a small nod. It was something. And Gilbert decided he could at least try to continue like this. He could be happy with nods and shrugs. Matthew looked like he kind of expected Gilbert to keep talking anyway.

"Right, okay." Gilbert leaned forwards, resting his forearms on his legs. "So, Mattie. What have you been up to? Anything awesome and exciting?"

Matthew stared, but at least he was staring at Gilbert. Which was okay, Gilbert thought, because at least that meant he was thinking. About his words. Or him. Or… something. Gilbert did his best to remain silent, but still look at ease.

It was a little unnerving.

But then Matthew breathed, brows pinching together as his lips struggling to form the sounds. "I…mmm." A sigh, pause. "Red… ing?"

That was a word. Gilbert tried not to let his uncertainty show as he mulled it over. Red. Red-ing. Oh, reading. Of course. That was…

Matthew was reading?

Gilbert straightened. "You can read?"

Matthew blinked, expression flattening, before giving Gilbert a distinctly unimpressed look.

"Well I mean, of course you can read," Gilbert found himself correcting hastily. "What I meant is uh… reading? That's cool. Do the, um… Are the doctors having you do that? For like, recovery?"

That was a lot of words there. Gilbert regretted it as soon as Matthew's brow furrowed in concentration. It took longer this time for an answer to form. But eventually Matthew glanced upwards and gave a sort of half shrug accompanied by a short hum, which turned into, "mmmore... um..." he paused, brow furrowed, before just simply gesturing to himself. He patted his chest a few times and looked at Gilbert with an apologetic squint.

"Not the doctors then?" Gilbert clarified, and Matthew confirmed with a small shake of his head and another few taps of his chest.

"Just you?" Gilbert echoed.

Matthew hummed and gave a small smile. Gilbert ginned widely.

"Dude that's awesome!" he exclaimed, real excitement coating his words. It had been what, three weeks? Matthew was doing better, clearly, but was this normal progress? Gilbert didn't know. But it had to be a good sign.

Also Matthew had smiled, actually smiled. If nothing else, that had to count for something.

Matthew hummed a little more and then took a breath. Slowly, a few more words came. "Nnnd, um. Al...fed." Another breath. He looked off to the side, alertness persisting. He raised one hand towards Gilbert, as if to keep his attention. The other reached for a pair of thin oval glasses lying on the bedside table. The movements were slow – finer motor skills still escaping him – but the purpose was there. And without help, Matthew was able to snare the lenses. "Er, these."

Gilbert was amazed. This was the most, well… natural he had ever seen Matthew. He was moving, talking, even if the words were slow and the phrases broken. He tried not to grin like an idiot when Matthew turned back towards him, glasses in hand.

"I didn't know you needed glasses, dude."

Matthew took a few moments before he gave a sort of lopsided shrug. His brow scrunched up, and his mouth opened briefly, but nothing came of it. Finally Matthew carefully transferred the glasses to his right hand before offering Gilbert a wobbly hand gesture and a small grimace.

"Hey hey, it's fine," Gilbert quickly replied to the apologetic expression. "No need to give me that look. I uh, I got it. I think." He scratched the side of his nose. "You only kinda need glasses right? Like reading glasses, or something of that sort?"

Matthew pondered, and then hummed softly. It sounded affirmative.

Gilbert waited, just in case. When it was apparent that was all Matthew had intended to express, he let out a puff of air and slouched in his chair. "Hah, must be nice."

The reaction was quicker this time. A tilt of the head, and a soft but confused look. Gilbert was surprised Matthew had even picked up on the words. "Yeah dude," Gilbert conceded. "My vision sucks. I don't do the whole glasses thing, but I have to wear these contact lenses or I basically see shit all."

Matthew needed time to process the words, but once he did so he almost looked a little sad. "Sorry," he mumbled sincerely.

"Dude, why are you apologizing?" Gilbert asked with a grin. "It's nothing to be sad over."

"Ah, s-sorry."

Gilbert was caught between delight at the natural sounding replies and bewilderment at Matthew's apologies. Eventually he settled for a short laugh a quick wave of his hand in Matthew's direction. "You're funny, dude."

Matthew looked a little perplexed.

"Don't worry 'bout it," Gilbert chuckled. "So, who brought the books?"

Matthew blinked at him, but managed to follow the change in subject and tracked his gaze over to the small pile of novels next to his bed. "Ah." His fingers began to tap out a rhythmless tune on his leg, humming. After a couple of seconds, the hums turned into, "Al... nnd, um. MmmMm," which Gilbert thought was another hum, but Matthew's face contorted and he tried again, slower. "Mom."

Gilbert beamed. "Dude that's great," he professed, to which Matthew looked a tad embarrassed. "These all yours, then?" he asked, looking over at the books.

Matthew nodded slowly. "Al... he- um." He seemed to mull over his words for a couple moments before he gave a small snort and rolled his eyes. "Your... Favourites!" he mimicked, a parody of Alfred's enthusiastic voice.

Gilbert blinked, eyes wide, and let out a short laugh. "Really, huh?" he asked. "What, did he not pick correctly or something?"

Matthew shrugged. "Tied."

Gilbert's grin didn't falter. "He tried?" he offered.

"Mmm," Matthew replied, glancing his way. It didn't appear as if he'd realized the slip of the word, and Gilbert didn't feel the need to point it out.

"Well let's see then," Gilbert continued, reaching over to snag one of the novels from the pile. "The Secret Garden?" he read aloud, taking note of the worn corners and faded cover. "Isn't that like, I dunno, old?"

Matthew opened his mouth to reply, but then stopped. His brow furrowed, and his lips closed, pursed tightly, only to open again a few moments later. "Ye... Um. B-bu..." He paused, hummed, and tried once more. "It… oh-mmm. Oh—kah." He stopped again, taking an abrupt, deep breath.

No more sounds came.

Matthew sat in the following silence, lips pursed and gaze low.

Gilbert frowned. It was... Something had changed. A switch had been flipped.

He wasn't sure what to do.

The silence continued to grow, and Gilbert considered speaking up. He didn't want to interrupt anything, but... Gilbert shook his head and plastered on a smile. "Hey dude, you alright?"

It took a few moments, but finally Matthew shrugged. His hands played with the material of the hospital blanket, bunching it up in his lap. There were no words. Gilbert guessed that was all he was going get.

"Er, okay then," Gilbert replied, a bit lost. "That's... alright. That's okay." He paused. "You wanna talk about it?" he continued instinctively, and then cringed.

Talking was... probably part of the problem here.

But Matthew blinked a couple times, brow furrowed. Then his head moved in what appeared to be a small back-and-forth shake, which was quickly followed by a shrug.

It was an answer of sorts. At the very least, it didn't look as if Matthew wanted to talk. So Gilbert was surprised when Matthew suddenly took a deep breath, fist clenching the blanket in his lap. Matthew's gaze snapped up to Gilbert, who met it with wide eyes. Meticulously, syllable by syllable, Matthew spoke. "It. Is. Um, hard. And." He took a deliberate pause, gaze drifting to the right. "And I. Mmm. I can't." His eyes closed, and the blanket was released from the white-knuckled grip.

Gilbert swallowed, thrown. He inched forwards in his seat. After a moment's deliberation, he placed his hand on the side of Matthew's bed. There was really no comfort gained from the gesture, but Gilbert felt like he had to do something. He really wasn't sure what he should say. The easy conversation from only moments ago felt long out of reach.

"Hey Mattie," he said after a few moments of silence. "Look man, you're doing great. Really," he pressed, when Matthew gave him a dubious look.

At the continued silence, Gilbert leaned forwards even more, pressing his weight into the side of the bed. Matthew watched him, lips pursed lightly together. From this angle, Gilbert could see the healing scar tissue under the fringe on Matthew's hair. The area was slightly raised, and still somewhat shinier than the rest of the surrounding skin. Gilbert wondered if Matthew's head still hurt at all. He should ask him about it some time.

"Is it the talking thing?" he asked, looking up at Matthew.

Matthew closed his eyes. That wasn't necessarily a bad sign, Gilbert tried to tell himself. But he didn't feel confident. He was starting to think that maybe he should just leave and let Matthew rest.

"Con... fused," Matthew said after a few seconds, and Gilbert once again started at the sound, having not expected a reply. Matthew's eyes were still closed, and as another few seconds ticked by so did a couple more words. "Not, um, there." A breath, in, then out. "Wrong."

Gilbert only realized that Matthew was done when his friend peered at him from under the fringe of his hair, looking distinctly unhappy. In the back of his mind, Gilbert noted that Matthew was doing a lot better with individual words than phrases, but he didn't think mentioning it would make him any happier. In fact, Matthew looked like he might be on the verge of tears. Gilbert swallowed back a bit of rising panic.

"Hey, look," he started, trying for cheery reassurance. "It sucks, am I right? This whole thing." He gave the bed he was leaning on a hearty pat. "And like, you're being really awesome about it all. You're doing great."

Matthew gave a short hum, sounding thoroughly unconvinced.

Gilbert grimaced. "Not it's true," he retorted. "This shit's hard. And uh, I can't pretend I know what it must be like - but, just try and take it easy? Like, one word at a time. Aphasia sucks, but don't try and push yourself, okay? You really are doing great, I'm serious."

Matthew took his time to sift through the words, and then his brow furrowed. He blinked at Gilbert a few times, and swallowed, before giving a low hum. His fingers pulled at the blanket, crunching it once again in his fists. Gilbert stared, and after a few moments Matthew hesitantly reached out and gently tapped Gilbert's arm. He gave another hum, a bit higher in pitch this time. Gilbert looked first at Matthew's hand and then at Matthew himself with wide eyes before finally noting that this all seemed like very apprehensive behaviour.

He realized he must have said something wrong.

"Um..." Gilbert began, mentally going back over what he had just said. "Is everything alri–" He stopped, realization dawning on him, and with it a sort of giddy disbelief. "Wait," he said, pushing off from the bed. Matthew followed him with distressed eyes. "Hold on. Backtracking here. Um. Aphasia. Have you– do you know what that is?"

Matthew stared at him for a few moments before his gaze dropped. His mouth opened, but it closed again uselessly when the silence only grew. Finally he offered a sort of one-shouldered shrug, followed by a quick jerk of his head, only once, back and forth.

Gilbert felt his stomach drop. He waited another couple seconds in case Matthew wanted to do anything else, but it seemed like that was all he had to offer. Gilbert sat back in his seat, hands in his lap, feeling solidly out of his depth.

"Right, um, my bad," he said. Matthew closed his eyes and let out a short huff of air. Gilbert tried to read what that might mean, good or bad, but came up empty-handed. So he held his silence, more because he really didn't know what else to say than for any other reason. After a few moments Matthew cracked open an eyelid and peered over at him. Right. Matthew got concerned if he was quiet for too long. What a guy.

"So uh, you were in an accident, right?" Gilbert started up again, really not sure what he was doing. Matthew glanced up, raising a single brow. He then gestured weakly with his left hand to the room around him as if to say 'really? I couldn't tell.'

"Yeah I know right," Gilbert retorted instinctively, and Matthew rolled his eyes. That was a good reaction, Gilbert thought. Matthew seemed to be regaining a bit of his previous vigour. Still, he wanted to be careful. "Look," he continued a bit more cautiously. "I am like, so unbelievably not qualified to explain this stuff. But," he stressed, not wanting to leave his friend hanging, "I can try, if you want."

Was that the best thing to offer? Probably not, Gilbert realized. But it was too late now. Matthew hesitated a couple seconds before nodding his head. Well. That was that. At least Matthew still wanted to talk.

Gilbert smiled and hoped for the best. "Um, okay right. So, aphasia. You, well, got it. From the car accident. The accident was, ah. Well it was pretty bad." He paused, trying to figure out what exactly he was saying here. "And um, you hit your head, I guess. And that's why you have it. Aphasia, I mean. It's... well it's why you can't talk all that well right now." Matthew blinked a few times, expression relatively blank. Gilbert pursed his lips, waiting, but nothing more came from it. After a few beats he asked, "do you want me to continue?"

Matthew's gaze dropped to his own hands, fingers intertwined together in his lap. To Gilbert's surprise, he nodded anyway.

Gilbert sighed, thinking hard. "Um, okay, let's see. Aphasia is a language impairment. So it'd be like... like having all these words, but not being able to… to get them out. Or knowing what you want to say, but not being able to find the right sounds, or words, or um, order?" he finished, far more uncertainly than he would have wanted. "Does... does that make sense?"

Matthew hesitated for a very long time. The seconds ticked by. But then he stirred and gave him a sort of half-shrug half-nod. Better than nothing, Gilbert supposed. He hoped he wasn't tiring Matthew out.

"Okay then," he replied. And then, because he was curious, "so that's like, how it feels then? The word thing?"

Matthew swallowed, and then made a low unhappy sound, shoulders hunching inwards and head bowing.

"Hey hey, sorry, bad question!" Gilbert had already pitched himself forwards, gripping the side of the bed. "I suck. I really do. I'm sorry." He tried to catch a glimpse of Matthew's expression, feeling strangely nervous. From what he could see, his friend's eyes were closed, and Gilbert was afraid that this might be the end of their conversation. "You don't have to answer anything you don't want to, Mattie," he promised, and then held his breath. Matthew continued to sit silently, and Gilbert leaned back some to give him a bit of space.

After a long period of silence, Matthew simply said, "confused."

Gilbert breathed easy. A verbal answer was far more than he had been expecting, and Matthew's soft voice was a relief in itself. "Do you want to talk about it?" Gilbert asked again, repeating his earlier question.

Matthew looked up, gaze wandering the room, but when he finally landed on Gilbert he gave a small shake of his head.

Gilbert nodded, feeling suddenly very tired. "Hey man, that's perfectly okay. Just uh, just take it easy." He offered a smile before remembering what people usually are supposed to say in these kinds of situations. "Right, and er, if you want to do want to talk about it – or about like, anything – um, I'm here. For you. To talk to." Gilbert gave his most support smile yet, finishing it off with an honest-to-god thumbs up.

Matthew glanced from the offered gesture of support to Gilbert's strained smile, blinking a few times. His brow rose marginally. "Thank."

"No problem dude."

Matthew hummed, then snorted slightly with what sounded like a small laugh. Gilbert grinned, running a hand through his hair. This was okay, he thought. Crisis mostly averted. Not perfect, but far better than he had ever hoped. Matthew was doing okay. And Gilbert, well, Gilbert was doing the best he could.

"So like... can we pretend I actually sounded super awesome back there, or..."

Not done yet.