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Andrew has always loved the nature. Outside, trees and plants and animals and bugs.
No matter if he was Andrew or Teddy that day. No matter if he'd shed his entire personality for a new one — he never could shake that love for nature.
It was one of the things Lester found most endearing about the man.
Now — he was Andrew. Now, he was perfectly sane, perfectly reasonable. As sane as he could get.
They walked through the trees, Andrew just that small bit ahead, pointing to plants on the floor and bugs in the trees and leaves in the sky.
"Oh — look! This- this is a cloudless sulphur," Andrew pointed out, waving Lester over and motioning to a butterfly perched on a small flower. Lester tilted his head, observing the insect quietly. "Those- those markings, on her wings? They're to scare off other predators. They look like eyes, they- they freak out all the bigger bugs and such..." He trailed off, reaching down a hand slowly, placing it next to the butterfly.
"Interesting. It's a pretty bug."
"Yeah. My favorite butterfly, actually. Have I told you?"
Lester watched with interest as the insect crawled on to Andrews fingers.
"No. I don't think you have."
Andrew stood, watching the butterfly with joyful passion. "Here — give me your hand," he ordered, looking up at the doctor. Amused, Lester did as commanded, offering his palm. Andrew took it lightly, pulling it close and placing his own hand next to it. The bug walked gingerly across the patients fingers, over and on to Lester's own palm.
"It —.." Lester glanced at Andrew. "She's a beautiful bug," he corrected.
"Her scientific name's ph-phoebis sennae. I- I read it in a book when I was younger. Read all about ‘em."
Smiling, Lester looked up at Andrew, scanned his face, joyed at how at peace Andrew looked.
He never was as calm as he was when he was with plants, animals and bugs. Never as happy. Never as... Sane.
"I was always told that if you touched a butterfly's wings, they'd loose their ability to fly. Loose their magic, I suppose."
The insect gave a few testing flaps of her wings, before taking off. Lester watched the smile break out on Andrews face, then the bug as it flew away forever.
"Do you ever wonder if a bug you see is the same as one you've met earlier?"
Lester chuckled, wiping his nose and shaking his head. "No, no, I can't say I have, Andrew."
At his name, Andrew met gazes with the doctor. His eyes seemed to fuzz over with old memories, but he shook his head slightly, and his focus was back.
"C- can I see your hand again?" The request confused the doctor, but Sheehan complied even so, offering his palm. Andrew grabbed it gently, tracing the lines with his index finger methodically. He hummed, smiling sadly to himself. "I should know you're not a cop."
Lester tilted his head, giving a confused grin. "What do you mean?"
"Well, your hands. They're not calloused or- or, uh, rough, or anything like that. They're smooth, and, um, delicate? They're- they're not cop hands, is what I'm saying."
"Oh, yeah? Let me see yours," Lester challenged. Andrew offered his palm, and the doctor traced over it.
Andrews hands were rougher. His fingers, indeed, had callouses. He thought back to Andrews past career, and thought, well, they were very fitting hands.
"How do they feel," Andrew asked, a hint of smugness in his voice.
"Rough. Warm."
Lester took the moment to slip his fingers between Andrews, holding his hand tightly yet gently.
If he wasn't looking, he's miss the light pink coating that jumped to Andrews face. But he was looking. He'd been looking. So he found it.
"Fuck. Can I tell you a secret, doc?"
"Of course," Lester said lightly, pulling Andrew to get them walking again.
There was a long pause in which the patient gathered his thoughts. The only sounds were the singing birds and the crisp blowing of leaves, until Andrew cleared his throat. And Lester thought that the sound fit right in, that Andrew could have easily blended in to the wildlife.
"I, uh... I- I never thought I'd feel what love really felt like again. But now, I'm thinkin’ maybe I'm feeling it. Or maybe I have a messed up idea of what love act- actually is."
Lester smiled, patting the mans back lightly.
"That's great, Andrew. Who's the lady?"
Andrew swallowed, eyes following a bird that flew in circles around the sky. "Blue jay," Andrew mumbled, pointing at it. He sniffed. "But, uh. That's the thing. That's my point. The lady."
"Yeah?"
"It's not a lady."
"Oh. A man?"
"Mhm."
"Well, that's okay. Is he here — at this island?"
"Mhm."
"Who is it?"
Lester had a pretty good idea of who. And when Laeddis looked up, when his eyes — fearful, wide and telling — met the doctors, his idea was confirmed. Andrews mouth parted, he searched and stammered for words — he knew Lester figured it out. And he was scared.
So was Sheehan. He liked Andrew. And that was a very scary thing for the psychiatrist, because, well? He could loose his job. He could loose everything. Did he really want to risk that?
Regardless, he raised a hand to cup Andrews face slowly, the other grabbing his waist, pulling the man close as he closed the distance between their mouths.
It was sweet. It was gentle. A small, surprised, "Mnph," was the only sound Andrew made, and then his eyes slipped closed, his hand grabbed at the doctors collar, and he melted into the embrace like a lovesick puppy.
And when Lester pulled away, Andrew trailed after, trying desperately to hang on to that one showcase of love and feelings.
And, man. Maybe he did have a messed up sense of what love was. He wasn't lucid a lot. Lately, it was more than not, but there were plenty of times he slipped away, and who was responsible for him?
Lester Sheehan.
Maybe it wasn't love — maybe Andrew was infatuated with the doctor because, really, he had no one else.
But maybe it didn't matter.
Not now anyways.
All that mattered then was the warm tingle of a hand on his hip, on his cheek, a thumb caressing the skin, scratching the stubble.
All that mattered then was the sting on his lips.
The birds continued chirping, butterflies continued flying, worms continued crawling.
"Let's continue walking," Lester mumbled.