That was true. He didn't have to be alone anymore. Someone would be just a few steps away. In that room that was made to look like a very nice bed and breakfast type of room, a traditional type. He'd seen it a few times when he wheeled past, or when the door was left open when someone was cleaning it each week, as necessary when the room was unused. Sasha was so much kinder, it wasn't faked. Or was it? If so, he couldn't tell. The man seemed genuinely interested in everything, and worried.

He set his work down, dusting his hands on the damp rag, and pulling himself over just enough to put both arms around Sasha. Though the movement strained his legs and pulled at his painful muscles, sent waves of room-spinning horror through his body, but it was worth it. He couldn't just say 'thanks' and leave it at that. Sasha deserved more than a weak hug, but Michael couldn't let go. It was a show that was so rare---nonexistent---for him. No one else had come to deserve, or really want, something so close. Maybe they thought he was ill.