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The second time it happened, it was his first day back at work, nearly a week after the first time. Budny was sitting in the cafeteria, eating a breakfast sandwich by himself in a corner. Or...“eating” in the vaguest sense. He was picking at it, trying to work up any sort of appetite for anything other than coffee, which was less of a want and more of a need anymore.
He was staring down at his sandwich when someone approached his table. He figured it would be someone wanting to borrow a chair for a different table, or something, but they sat down. He didn’t look up, hoping they wouldn’t try to talk to him as he took a sip from his water bottle.
To no avail, of course. It was just a few moments before they spoke up.
“Hey.”
Budny cringed, his grip on his sandwich tightening. He’d be stupid not to recognize that voice this time, after it had been haunting his every waking hour. He really hoped this wouldn’t become a common occurrence. He raised his eyes, if only to confirm what he already knew.
“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot,” Not-Lain stated. Budny squinted at him, then glanced around the room. Nobody was looking at him. His dread was palpable.
“Why are you here?” He whispered. Lain shrugged.
“I wanted to apologize.” He said, picking at his nails. Budny squinted at him, and Lain grinned. “Okay, you caught me. I was bored.”
“That doesn’t—,” Budny started, slightly too loud, snapping his mouth shut when he realized someone was looking at him weirdly. He gave the person looking at him an awkward smile before gathering his things, standing up, and briskly walking into an empty exam room.
“Couldya walk a little slower?” Lain complained, sitting on the exam bed. Budny frowned, running a hand over his face, leaning against the counter.
“I’m a fucking nutcase,” He whispered to himself. Lain snorted.
“Took you long enough to realize. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” Lain sniffed, kicking his feet. “You can’t bear to be at this hospital without me.” Budny didn’t have a response to that. He knew it was true. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, dread growing.
“Can’t you just leave me alone for today?” He muttered, practically begging. Lain actually laughed out loud. Budny couldn’t find it in himself to be offended, not when it meant hearing Lain’s laugh again.
“Man, you’re good. You almost sound like you actually want that,” He giggled. Budny frowned.
“Just…” He sighed, pleading. “Just let me do my job. Please.” Lain watched him, kicking his feet a few more times before jumping off of the exam bed, stepping into Budny’s space. He stayed there for a second, eyes dragging over Budny’s tired face. He placed a hand over Budny’s own and ran his thumb across his knuckles, making Budny shiver. Lain smiled at him, but it was much more wicked than the real Lain’s real smile, and Budny had to close his eyes to ground himself. When he opened them, Lain was gone, only the phantom of a touch left on his hand. He took a second to breathe, then dusted his coat off and began to head back toward oncology.
On the way there, in a nearly empty hallway, he ran straight into quite possibly the last person he wanted to see.
“Excuse me,” He mumbled, lowering his eyes in hopes that Cecil wouldn’t recognize him, trying to pass by.
“Hold on— Chris?” Damn it. There goes that. Budny pursed his lips, before raising his eyes.
“Hey, Cecil.” He couldn’t read the expression on Cecil’s face. He was sure it was disappointment, perhaps anger.
“Where have you been?” Cecil’s tone was bordering on cautious. Budny shrugged.
“I took some time off. After…” He looked at the wall, unable to take Cecil’s keen gaze anymore. “After the funeral.”
“A whole week and a half?” Cecil asked, voice a little louder. Chris hesitated, then nodded.
“It’s been hard.” Cecil looked at him as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“You could’ve told one of us, y’know. We’re all struggling with this.”
“You weren’t there, Cecil!” Budny snapped. “You weren’t the one who was supposed to be there for him! You weren’t the one who found him!” There was silence for a moment, both of their breathing being the loudest thing in the hall.
“Chris…” Cecil started, but Budny shook his head.
“You have no idea what it was like,” He whispered. “You don't get it, Cecil. If I’d been there…” He couldn’t say it out loud. Cecil’s jaw clenched.
“Don’t you dare.” He was glaring. Budny furrowed his eyebrows.
“What?”
“Don’t you dare use our friend’s death as an excuse to…” He gestured at Budny. “Do this.”
“Oof,” Lain grimaced. “He got you there.”
Budny ignored him.
“I have work to do,” He muttered, side-stepping Cecil, hoping his expression wasn’t betraying his apathy. “See you.” He heard Cecil scoff, but he didn’t try to stop him.
“Told you,” Lain whispered as they walked. “Selfish.”
“Shut up.”
Budny was very quickly coming to the realization that he was not, in fact, ready to be back at work. Lain was always in the corner of his vision, taunting him. He nearly had a panic attack when he had to tell a patient she was terminal. Avoiding his remaining coworkers was exhausting.
Not even halfway through the day, he had to excuse himself to the staff bathroom to vomit. A patient of his had a brain tumor. It seemed like treatment would fix it, but it was still an unpleasant reminder of the long, grueling months of Lain’s time in his care. Ergo the vomiting.
“You’re just being dramatic at this point,” Lain said from the stall next to him, once he had finished barfing up his guts.
“Shut up.” Budny wiped his mouth with toilet paper. He stood up, flushing the toilet, watching the contents of his stomach disappear into the pipes. There wasn’t much there. After a beat, “I don’t think I can work here anymore.”
“Yeah. No shit.” As if it were apparent. Well… Budny supposed it was. He began washing his hands. He just wanted it to not be true, he loved this place. It was like home. More than anything, he wished everything could just go back to normal. He wanted Lain back, he wanted Haynes to not hate him, he wanted— “Can you wallow any louder?”
His eyes snapped up to the mirror in front of him, taking in his red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. He hadn’t even noticed his own tears. Lain was leaning against the wall behind him, head tilted. Budny turned to look at him. One thing this Lain was missing was his real friend’s kind eyes. This Lain’s eyes were cold, lifeless. The way Budny had found him. He shuddered at the thought, looking back down at the sink, gripping it harder than strictly necessary.
“I’m a mess.”
“That much is obvious.” Lain’s voice sounded closer. “Glad you don’t need me to tell you these things anymore.”
“Then why are you still here?” Budny hissed, a few tears falling onto his shaking hands. He could almost feel Lain behind him.
“Who else do you have?” Lain whispered, right in his ear. A thrill went down Budny’s spine. Another tear fell into the sink. Lain snickered into his ear, resting his chin on Budny’s shoulder. “Oh, Chris… What would he think of you right now?”
“Don’t…” Budny shook his head, hiccuping. It took everything in him to not glance up at the mirror in front of them.
“Don’t what? Bring him up?” Lain hummed, tracing a finger over his other arm, and it sent another shiver through Budny’s body. “Why? Does it make you feel guilty that you like this?”
“...Yes,” Budny replied. “You know it does.”
“Look at me, Chris.” Budny paused, then raised his eyes, making eye contact with Lain through the mirror. It made his stomach churn uncomfortably. Lain smiled at him, softer this time. It was almost like the real thing. Budny wanted to throw up again. “You can always pretend.”
The change in tone wasn’t lost on Budny either. His chest ached, though whether it was with want or grief, he couldn’t tell. What was the difference between the two, anyway?
So he did as Lain said, and pretended. He pretended that the man behind him was really there, that it was his dear friend, that nothing had happened to him yet.
It was nice to pretend. So nice, that he could almost convince himself that he wasn’t pretending. Lain’s expression had shifted into something more akin to a grin than the soft smile he’d held, but it didn’t matter. His hand on Budny’s face held no heat, but it didn’t matter.
None of that mattered because this was Lain. He turned his head slightly, mentally preparing. This was what he’d wanted for months, perhaps years. He took a deep breath in, leaning toward Lain and…
…He couldn’t do it. Lain scoffed out a laugh, as if he were expecting it, but said nothing. Budny took a step back, leaning against the sink for support. He couldn’t believe himself. Being in this hospital was driving him insane.
The shame swimming in his stomach didn’t go away until he handed his resignation letter to Naomi. It returned that night as he was trying to fall asleep, but could only think about Lain, and didn’t go away for a while after.