A.N: A challenge between Leo (Yiramy) and myself.

The prompt was: word: Addiction - song: Everybody needs somebody to love - the Blues Brothers - colour: Red

This is my take on it


The smoke emitting from his pipe swirled as it rose upwards before dispersing into nothing against the clear blue sky. The tobacco stilled his craving for the moment. Not by a lot, but just enough so that he could actually enjoy the nice warm summer day before his cravings became worse again.

The spiky haired man was lost in a daydream when he was suddenly kicked hard in the side.

"You're taking up all the shade... Move" came a chillingly cold voice from above.

The Dutchman tilted his head upwards and stared at the newcomer who had so rudely kicked him in the side.

"There's plenty of shade under the other trees, go to them" he retorted back at the pale blonde male standing above him. In return to this the other male's glare only intensified and from his position on the ground Willem could see very easily the dark shades under the blonde man's eyes. Insomnia perhaps? He mused to himself as he studied the grumpy looking man.

"The other places are to noisy...hurts my head."

Willem looked at the rest of the large garden and concluded this stranger was probably right. It was a beautiful summer day, so of course everyone was running around and being loud. Playing what might appear to outsiders as games and generally being noisy. It wasn't uncommon, but in this place – within the four walls of the institution, it was difficult to get away from things like that when it was clearly something you did not wish to partake it the slightest.

Willem gave a sympathetic look before scooting over ever so slightly to allow the other male some space in the small spot of shade. The blonde man sat down in silence and opened a very large and old book. From the corner of his eye he tried to read what the book was about, but the words all looked like gibberish to him and he gave up. After a few minutes of dead silence from the other male – save the sound of quiet breathing – Willem got bored.

"So...what are you in for?" he asked as he emptied out the remainder of burnt out tobacco from his pipe.

The other male glanced up from his book and stared blankly at the taller man. "Common courtesy dictates one should ask someone for their name first"

Willem blinked in surprise. Man was this guy uptight and cold.

Scratching the back of his head with a sight he tried again. "All right. Hello. My name is Willem, what's yours?"

The blonde man seemed more happy with this approach, and with a small piece of fabric he marked the page in his book as he closed it. "Erik"

He wanted to roll his eyes at this 'Erik' person. The man was obviously unable to even have a basic conversation.

"Well then Erik; why are you here?"

Erik glanced around the large garden before answering, his voice dull and lifeless. "You mean in this 'prison' or on this earth?"

All Willem could do was stare. How more annoying could this man be?

"Obviously I'm referring to the institution...idiot," the last word was muttered under his breath with a slight hint of anger to it.

If the other man had heard him, he must have chosen to ignore the last word.

"Caffeine addiction and self-induced insomnia..." came the short and unexplained reply. If anything it only made Willem have more question. How did one end up in a place like this if all you were addicted to was a cup of coffee?

"That makes no sense..."

"Makes perfect sense..."

Shaking his head in disbelief at how difficult this Erik-person was to talk to, he re-filled his pipe with finely chopped up tobacco and slowly lit it. One of the few things he was still allowed within the compound.

"Most people here are either addicted to something or utterly insane...care to explain how your coffee addiction makes you a patient here..."

Erik frowned slightly and leaned against the tree, closing his eyes as he tried to think of the best was to formulate his 'diagnosis'.

"Did you know if you force the human body to stay awake for a certain amount of time...something in their mind snaps and it makes them crazy?" Erik opened his eyes and looked at Willem. He couldn't help but notice just how prominent the dark circles were or how dull and lifeless the other man's eyes looked.

"I...I have heard of this yes..."

Erik nodded

"Good. Well...I forced myself to do just that...and now...now I see things the doctors don't think I should see..." he sighted and slumped down slightly against the tree trunk, looking a bit upset.

Curiosity got the better of Willem.

"What...is it you see then?" Quite certainly Willem was sure it wasn't so bad that the smaller man would have to be locked up in this 'institution' – or as everyone outside and inside of these walls called it "the insane asylum".

He'd met one dark haired man with OCD so bad he would wash his hands till they bled, and a small young looking boy who was terrified of everything – even his own shadow it appeared...

There was also an American boy with some form of eating disorder and a small (seemingly) timid Canadian kid who seemed to have a split personality.

All in all, Willem wasn't sure what level of madness one had to qualify to posses to be admitted to this white-walled prison, but he knew the selection and the arrange of patients' problems seemed to vary quite a bit.

So when Erik opened his book again and pointed at a full page, black and white drawing of what was undoubtedly faeries, Willem couldn't really say he was too surprised.

"Those...I see things like that..."

Reaching over, he carefully pried the book out of the man's hands and studied the drawings more carefully. Breathing out a swirl of smoke he flipped through the pages some more, stopping at some of the drawings and glancing over at Erik. "Do you see...things like this too?" Willem pointed at a drawing of a large troll, trying to hide his slight amusement at this whole situation.

"Yes...but only in certain places..." Erik took his book back and flipped to another page, his dull-blue eyes seeming to gain a certain spark of life as he traced the pictures with his eyes, occasionally his fingers would linger over a certain picture of a creature with such fondness Willem was almost convinced himself that such creatures really did exist.

"So... do they tell you to do bad things then? Burn down churches, sacrifice a virgin or something like that?"

Erik turned to Willem with a mix of shock and anger in his eyes – how frightfully wonderful it was to see some form of emotion in those dead eyes.

"Absolutely not! Th-they just keep me...company."

The last word was spoken so softly, a complete contrast to the initial tone of voice Erik possessed. It caught Willem off guard and he tilted his head slightly as he shifted his position slightly so he could sit facing the other man.

"You mean you like seeing them?" he inquired carefully; the only reply he got was a nod and a sight before Erik closed the book again and his eyes met Willem's.

"I talk to them – occasionally - but they never do anything bad.. they just...they're just there...brightening up my life...giving me something to hold onto - something to care and love for..."

"I see..." was all Willem could reply with, although he couldn't quite understand it. The blonde man seemed to be lonely, maybe that's why his mind snapped and gave him little imaginary friends? It certainly would make sense. Wasn't there a British man on level 4 who insisted he'd rode a unicorn once? Willem was fairly sure there was...it wasn't unusual around here to see things. But one thing was still not clear to him.

"Why did you induce insomnia onto yourself then?"

Erik shuffled and shifted his sitting position on the grass till he deemed himself more comfortable

"Sleeping means I might have missed something important...too much at stake to allow such a thing to happen..."

"Uhh...what the fuck did you do for a living then?"

"I manned a weather station in Svalbard...weather can be treacherous up there, and people relied on me to make sure they wouldn't be taken by surprise by a storm..." Erik trailed off with the wave of a hand, not really wanting to go into more details. However, Willem had a clear enough view of Erik's situation now. He'd heard enough of Svalbard and Spitsbergen to know that for more or less half of the year the entire island was covered in darkness, the other half was always light. Of course it would mess up your sleep-cycle. Coupled then with a demanding job, it really was no wonder this man had finally snapped. Little imaginary creatures to talk to and keep him company on cold and dark endless 'nights'. If anything Willem though it was simply rational to conjure up such things – much better than a killing spree like that tall and creepy Russian man on level 5 had supposedly done.

Taking a deep drag from his pipe he watched the smoke drift upwards, it calmed him to watch the smoke dance till it 'died', becoming noting else but air.

"What about you?"

Erik's deep voice drew him out of his daydream.

"My story isn't as interesting as yours..."

"Don't care. I told you mine...so you tell me yours...fair is fair..."

Willem couldn't really argue against that.

Balancing the pipe in between his lips he shrugged of his jacket and held his arms out for the Norwegian to study.

"You can probably guess..."

Erik titled his head and carefully traced a finger down one of his arms, the touch sent shivers down Willem's spine, a sensation he tried to not let the other man know made him feel kinda funny.

Erik was fascinated in some way by Willem's arms. Cuts and little scars dotted around his arms, concentrated mainly around visible veins.

"Didn't know this place had drug addicts..."

Willem chuckled slightly. "We're not the majority no. Only the West wing on Level 2 is rehabilitation."

"Oh" came the quiet reply from Erik as he continued to inspect the scars. Red on pale skin – a striking contrast making the scars almost appear like glowing red lights on snow. Erik apparently found them rather beautiful. "I'm on Level 3 and don't venture much outside from there..."

"So you're not on Level 4 with the Englishman who sees unicorns?"

Erik looked up at Willem, rolling his eyes. "No...I was only up there for a week before they figured I wasn't a danger to myself or others..."

"The Brit is a danger? "

He nodded "He's infamous for burning things...mostly accidental...but the nurses swear he can make things spontaneously combust...but I think that's just a cruel trick played by that one Asian boy with pyromania."

Willem had to laugh, they might be in a 'prison', but certain things was still amusing. Not to mention this man was far more chatty and friendly once you got him going. He had missed that. It was as if a sliver of normality was slowly working it's way back into his life.

"So why did you start?"

The question threw Willem off – he hadn't expected it.

Not to mention it wasn't easy.

"Progress...you start one thing and soon you start another...by the time you realise yourself you're swimming in deep water it's far to late for any rescue boat to help you" Willem frowned and sighted angrily. Angry at himself mostly – he couldn't blame anyone else. His siblings had only tried to help while he had simply pushed them further and further away, claiming he knew what he was doing – that he still had control.

However; it had all been a lie, a lie to himself.

"But you can cure addictions...or...suppress them...substitute...I'm permanently 'broken'."

Erik smiled, it was an attempt at cheering Willem up, but it wasn't a particularly happy smile – it held a certain sadness.

"Everything broken can be fixed." Willem offered, trailing off as his brain tried to give him some more comforting words – yet nothing else came to mind.

"But what if I don't want to fix it?"

That shut Willem up again. It was odd, yet understandable. If those imaginary creatures gave the Norwegian some form of comfort, then why would he want them gone? It was only logical he wanted to keep them. It reminded Willem of religion in a way. However, instead of one God, Erik had several small faeries to turn to when in need.

"I should go..." Erik slowly got up from the ground, bending carefully down to pick up his large book. "The faeries tell me it's time for my medication...and so far, they've always been right about that" he gave a sheepish smile for a brief moment.

"It was nice meeting you Willem..."

"Yeah...nice meeting you too."

"I'll see you around...yeah?"

Willem chuckled. "Yeah. Unless you fly over those white walls...we will"

Erik smiled at that and with a silent 'goodbye' he headed back towards the white-washed building they all were supposed to call home – but never did.

It should have been red.

Red like the blood that flowed through their veins – red like the blood some had spilled, and red like the passion so many still felt.

For family, for friends...for the ones they loved.

White was too bland.

Red would represent it better.

A red prison to keep it's broken and damaged patients safe – from themselves and the outside.


AN: right, now that I've gotten this out of my brain - time to focus on my other fics!

Hope this makes my small gathering of NL/Nor fan's happy for the time being.
I still seem to be the only one to post this pairing here.