Gavin pulled Anthony back up. "You're not dirty, I promise. But I'll clean up the floor if you want." He pulled Anthony away from the mirror, situating him on his bed that was now a normal bed, rather than a cold and uncomfortable hospital bed. checking his watch, he noted it was noon just as a knock at the door sounded, and he hurried to open it. A woman in white, like what Gavin wore, only a bit stained with different tones of old food that never really bleached out all the way. She presented a tray with a plate, small bowl, and two cartons---one of white milk and one of apple juice. He accepted it with a quick "Thank you," and nudged the door closed, setting the tray on the table across the room. "Anthony, time for lunch if you're hungry."

While most places had the usual 'terrible hospital food', this one was a few steps up. Everything was real and not necessarily boxed, from the small mound of mashed potatoes beside the strips of medium-grade steak and bright green beans to the non-canned pears in the bowl. If Anthony had eaten badly throughout his time here Gavin was sure it'd change.