My parents are both sick, so we stayed home from church today, which means I get to post this. I know it's tiny and I should be working on "Confirmation", but this has been bugging me for about a month, so I decided to share it with you guys.

Las Vegas, Nevada

November 1, 2000

At 18 years old, he looked worriedly up at the two men that his one-woman support system, 13-year-old Leah Prentiss, had let in the door. He was all ready miserable and no one had even gone near his mom, Dr, Diana Reid, yet.

The big, white, ever so sterile van parked outside of the house had on it "Bennington Sanitarium" in big, bold, green lettering.

He would never forget that van. He would never forget those men. Never forget the way his mother had looked at him. Her desperate pleas to be left alone even as she was guided outside, into the waiting van. He would never forget the way she had screamed brokenly for him, her son and only child, the only real family she had left in the world as that cursed van carried her further and further from her home.

The only place her broken, scattered mind could ever remember living: that house. The house that now had a "For Sale" sign marring the all ready less than impressive yard.

He would never forget how Leah had held him as he sobbed. How she had quietly reminded him that it was for the best, in his mother's best interests. She had tried endlessly to cheer him up as they packed his things for his move to New Haven, Connecticut, where he would live in an apartment with Leah while she finished her studies at Yale.

When the time came to box his mother's things, he thought he held himself together remarkably well. But her books…When it came time to box the books to take to a consignment shop, Leah had calmly ordered him to load his consignment boxes into his car and take them up to the shop. When he had returned, it had somehow all been done, packed and ready to go.

She had given him a list of small things to do while she loaded the boxes into the car this time. He had accepted this without a word.

After the consignment shop, they had gone back to the house, put the things in the car that he wanted in New Haven, and started driving in that direction. They took a long weekend, making the road trip last three days.

Looking back on it, he realized that the trip had been a healing thing. It had made them both see the good in the world, in life, despite the things surrounding his mother. Despite the one-year anniversary of Lyle Kensington's attack that had loomed close in the future.

He would never forget her smile. There had been a many of them on that trip.

But the thing that was hardest emblazoned in him was seeing a calendar once they were back in New Haven, and realizing that November 1st, that horrible day where he had undoubtedly been at his worst, where she had done everything she knew to do for him, that day was her birthday.

He had inquired after it. Her answer had been simple.

"Birthdays come around every year. That day, you needed me."

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