Scott sang quietly to himself as he flipped pancakes. His head ached a little from last night.
He about threw the spatula when Mitch entered the kitchen.
"Morning," he said.
"Don't 'morning' me, I had to put your drunk baby ass to bed last night."
Scott smiled. "Sorry."
"You hella better not be doing that when Michael's around."
Scott's smile was short lasting. "I know, I know. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking," he looked at the wall, "I'm just sick of being sad all the time."
"Do you think I'm going through anything better? Boy, I'm right there with you."
Scott focused his eyes back to Mitch's.
"Try not to drink yourself to the grave next time, okay?"
"I didn't almost die!" Scott sassed.
Mitch raised his eyebrows.
"That was a one-time thing."
Mitch slapped Scott's upper back like a dog, "Good Scott."
Scott turned back to his burning pancakes.
"Aw crap," he pick one up on the spatula, "want one?"
"Ew no!" Mitch said taking the spatula, "Let a real woman do this."
Scott laughed and stepped back.
-------------------------
"Aren't you gonna have one?" Scott asked.
"Nah, I still feel kinda weird."
"You should try and at least eat something. Toast?"
Mitch disapproved.
"One slice? C'mon I don't want you to die on me."
"...Kay, fine." Mitch stood up and popped a piece of bread in the toaster.
"Hey, it's been a while since Pentatonix has regrouped," Scott said.
"So? We wouldn't be able to make any more music. Avi's in Canada, Kirsti's like, in a mental hospital, Kevin is looking for a woman to marry, and you and I somehow made a kid."
"Yeah, but like, a reunion, you know? We could do a 'Matin-High-School-Choir-Nerds-That-Made-a-Dumb-Little-Band-Called-Pentatonix-Reunion kind of a thing!"
"Scott," Mitch laughed, sitting down, "that's stupid."
Scott smiled at his own idea.
"You're kidding."
"No."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"Totally for real?"
"Abso-freaking-lutly I am!"
"...Scott that's insane."
"Says the man who gave actual birth to an actual kid."
Mitch gave Scott a dumb face.
"So, what do you think?" Scott asked.
-----------------------------
"Kirstin Maldonado," Scott repeated the name.
"Oh, yes. She in room 121. I'll let the security know you're here."
"Okay thanks."
The boys waited patiently in the waiting room.
"Nervous?" Scott asked, taking notice of Mitch bouncing his leg.
"No, just a little, eh."
"It's okay. I don't want to see her like this either."
"Scott and Mitch for Kirstin, right?"
"Yep." Scott said.
"Right this way."
They followed a tall nurse-like woman to a sealed room. They walked in to see Kirstin asleep. Her wounds from when the boys saw her last seemed to have healed greatly.
Scott and Mitch were hesitant to enter, but eventually walked over to the side of her bed.
"Would it be weird if we woke her up?" Mitch said to Scott.
"I don't know, probably." He lightly placed a hand on her shoulder, "Kirsti? Kirst, it's Scott and Mitch."
She groaned and rolled over on to her back. Her eyes shot open and she sat up quickly when she realized.
"Whoa, guys, hey. Hi. What are you doing here?"
"We haven't seen you in forever. We were just wondering if you're doing okay," Mitch said.
Kirstin looked down, "Oh, yeah, I'm, you know," she shrugged, "I manage."
"Are you feeling any better?" Scott asked.
"Yeah, my bullet holes aren't holes anymore, they look better."
"That's good," Mitch said.
"Yeah. They still think I'm 'blind'." She made quotes with her fingers on the word 'blind', "And I'm not retarded either. I don't belong here. They just think I'm suicidal or something, but I wanna leave! It sucks here! My life is officially nothing but therapy and spiritual shit talk."
The room was silent.
"Mitch..." Her eyes grew wide as she looked him down, "how's the baby?"
He smiled a warm smile, the soft, dimply one Scott melts with. "Yes. We had a little boy."
Kirstin's face lit up. "What's you name him!"
"Michael Richard."
"Aww, cute. Did you leave him at home or something?"
"No, um..."
"He was a preemie," Scott finished for Mitch. "He just needs a little more time in the hospital."
Mitch looked at Scott and the blonde grabbed and squeezed Mitch's hand.
"Oh, okay. I bet he's super adorable though!" She plastered a smile.
"Yeah, he's tiny," Mitch said.
There was silence. It lingered, but not enough to make it awkward.
"Do you know how much longer you're going to be here?" Asked Scott sympathetically.
Kristi shook her head, "I have no idea. Pretty much until they feel I'm 'unsuicidal', I guess."
"What do they do to know that? Is it just like tests or something?" Mitch said.
"Well, yeah. Kinda. Ever since they transferred me here, it's been nothing but doctors poking around at my eyes. They think I'm supposed to be blind," she sighed, "but somehow, I'm not, and now they're all freaking out. They also think I'm suicidal. Now, yeah, I guess I 'was' like that, but not anymore. I wanna leave. I think they're keeping me for research, and my 'mental state of being' is the only legal way they can hold me back...But that's just an assumption. I've been here long enough to think about crap like that..."
"So technically, you're being held hostage," Scott said.
"Pretty much."
"How is that legal?" Mitch asked.
Kirstin shrugged. "They should've just came out and said I needed to be studied, not 'oh, well she's twisted and better spend the rest of her life behind locked doors so we secretly can discover something and get paid, famous, and buy all the yachts we want'."
"Hon, you aren't gonna spend the rest of your life here. If you're perfectly fine now, we'll get you out," Mitch added.
"What are you gonna do, bribe them?" She asked.
"I've got connections."
