A few things before you get into reading. I don't want to rant and put this massive author's note so I'll try to be brief.

Bree525 - Your commentary had me smiling like no tomorrow. I'd be humbled and ecstatic if this story really did have a hundred comments on it, but I'm extremely content with the feedback it has gotten. And I'm planning on making this story a lengthy one, so you might just get your twenty five chapters. Well, I'm exaggerating. Maybe something near twelve or fifteen. I'll play it by ear.

CampbellFan101 - If you're still checking in on this story, then we both know what really did end up happening to Cam. And I'll be perfectly honest in saying it influenced the direction this story is going to go in to a degree. I won't say how, but maybe you'll notice over time. But, I did expect Cam to commit suicide after Bittersweet Symphony part one. Regardless, it didn't sink in until Simpson was telling Maya and Katie. My jaw still dropped and my heart just...sunk into the depths of the fucking ocean. The episode hit me really hard and left me feeling numb.

Last but certainly not least because I said so

drew - (who I sincerely hope will see this because I'm being so terribly honest) I was having an atrocious night when I saw this comment. I felt extremely depressed and while that didn't go away entirely, seeing your comment made me feel better. It was so encouraging and knowing that someone thinks my writing is that noteworthy, I was so flattered. I just...yeah. It truly lifted some of that off my shoulders and I started writing this chapter again right after I read it. I just had to make note of it here. So thank you.

I'm getting sappy and shit so okay. And that ended up being a lot of ranting, sorry. Anyway, just read it. Review if you want, quite obviously I appreciate the feedback. Enjoy.

Yeah I found out I've been
Out my my mind for some time
But come on, you knew that
You, you knew where my head has been at

Yeah cause I've been out of my mind for some time now
But everybody knew that
Hope someday I'll get my head back
Yeah, asking where the fuck it's been at

Since waking that Thursday morning two hours before, Eli had had his head buried in The House At Pooh Corner, a bemused smile spread across his face all the while. For the life of him, he hadn't read a piece of literature so nonsensical since he was in grade school.

Eli sat at a table for breakfast, halfheartedly biting into an apple as he read. He was on the chapter in which Tigger makes his first bouncy entrance when Adam took the spot beside him. Tilting his head down a bit to get a look at the title, a loud, mocking laugh left him.

"Pooh? Winnie the Pooh? Weren't we just talking about Stephen King last night? Here I was thinking you had good taste in books." he chided, quickly digging into his cereal.

Eli dismissively waved his hand at his friend, waiting until he reached the end of the chapter to put down the book, the spine sticking up in the air. "I wouldn't say this is my usual choice in literature, but Clare left it for me the other day. She insisted I read it, so I'm trying to get through it first before starting the others." He tried to feign complete disinterest in the book, but the fact that Clare had given it to him made the ruse null and void from the start. "As if I could even focus on the others. My brain has this striking resemblance to alphabet soup lately..." said Eli thoughtfully to himself, the small book requiring more effort than usually necessary to comprehend.

Unsure as to who Eli was talking about, Adam narrowed his eyes. "Clare?"

"Yeah, Clare. You know, curly hair, showed up for me yesterday...?"

"Oh! Your cousin. You never introduced me to her. Rude."

At the mention of her being his cousin, he chuckled, then taking a hearty bite out of his apple. After chewing and swallowing, Eli shrugged. "I didn't really expect her to show up. You know, with me being here and all. She was the last person I expected, really." The lies slipped fluidly from his tongue. So far, at least.

"Do you two get along? It was kinda hard to tell. You looked like you wanted to bite her head off."

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Eli nodded. "Yeah, we get along great. Better than I ever have with anyone else really." There was an unmistakable longing in his tone that although he had worked hard to get rid of, he couldn't eradicate it completely.

"Oh?" Adam urged, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Did you two like, grow up together or something?"

"...not exactly?" Eli attempted, cringing slightly. He bit into his apple again to keep his mouth busy, and for lack of anything better to do in the moment.

A beat passed in which Eli held his peace, knowing anything that he said could and would be misconstrued on Adam's behalf.

"Cousins. Sure. More like kissing cousins." Adam quipped.

Widening his eyes, Eli blinked a few times, his expression then growing serious.

"If you say one thing to the nurses here, I swear-"

"Nah, I'm not going to rat out on you and your little girlfriend. I mean, cousin." he coughed obnoxiously, grinning to Eli.

He groaned in reply, placing down the mostly consumed piece of fruit. "No, we're not dating. Not even close." he snorted, the notion laughable to him.

It took a few moments, but soon it seemed Adam was putting together the bits and pieces Eli had told him about how he got there. "You mean...she's that 'beautiful girl' with the dad who brought you here?"

"So you do retain details, good to know."

"Dense is my normal setting, but here and there I can be sort of perceptive."

Eli laughed vacantly, his thoughts mostly with Clare. "It's an impossible situation, seriously. What are the odds of meeting someone like her out of that kind of incident? Her dad dragged me in the car, I turn my head and then...there she is," Mulling it over had him fully capsized in her blue eyes again, the concern and compassion spoken wordlessly through them.

"Love at first suicide attempt...?" Adam questioned, half humorously, but Eli knew a part of him was being serious too.

"Try third." Eli deadpanned, drumming his fingers on the table.

"Oh." he mouthed in reply, the conversation successfully killed with his blunt honesty.

Eli had never questioned before why his prior attempts hadn't worked out, why he wasn't a corpse beneath the recently rain-soaked ground already. Most of the time, the reasons seemed to double as excuses. He was too nervous, too distracted, the timing was wrong. When it came down to it, he knew his cowardice was the deciding factor in what kept him alive, a fact he rued every day he woke up. No one could be blamed for his lack of courage other than himself. Had he not continuously spooked himself out of the task, perhaps the intended result would have been achieved the first time around.

But instead, on his third try, he came face to face with the only thing to ever make him grateful that he hadn't succeeded. It was a bizarre sensation – gratitude flooding through his entire being at the sight of one very frightened, very worried girl. But now that he had been given time to objectively see it, there was no doubt in his mind. Clare Edwards (and somewhere along the way, her father) had saved him.

It wasn't a fact he was about to present to her, knowing how heavy a burden those three words could be. You saved me, speaking that phrase would put true emphasis on the key role Clare was playing in his life, how thoroughly she had seeped into his bones, his mind. How instrumental – pivotal, even – she was to his recovery.

It made him wonder why so many heavy sentiments could be encompassed in three words alone. It was as if the number begged for permanence, that it could uphold such a poignant sentiment, be it positive or negative.

Obviously Clare's intention never had been to save him, yet another factor that made him reluctant to admit it. He still had no idea exactly what her and her father were doing, driving along that road that night. For all he knew, he could have been the end of a perfectly calm evening, one she was sharing with her family. Before that moment of near impact, he meant nothing to her, and she nothing to him. Not enough to deem his life salvageable.

A very large part of him still felt as though he lacked a purpose, that he was an empty vessel more or less, but Clare flipped a switch inside him. What said switch was capable of changing, he still wasn't entirely sure. But she knew where it was, even if it happened unknowingly, whereas he was still stuck in a daze over the shift. In all the calamity he'd created for himself in stepping off that stabilizing curb, the only semblance of reason left in the aftermath was her.

Explaining that to his therapist would prove to be fruitless so he didn't bother, instead keeping the tidbit to himself. After all, Clare felt like the sweetest of secrets, one he even had trouble parting with to shed light on the matter to Adam. She was completely, and then again not at all, his.

If only she was his in truth. To call someone that tender, that resoundingly patient and kind his other half, he couldn't think of a better way to spend his shame of a life, if he would be forced to live it at all.

Though he could barely concentrate just yet on leaving the hospital, his therapist had made a mention of possibly releasing him within two weeks, should he make progress. As of yet, the only visible change in him was the cumbersome sluggishness. Sometimes Eli wondered if the method of the medication was to make him too exhausted to kill himself. That was the only solution it was garnering thus far.

He was considering retiring to his room to read when a nurse approached him, a duffel bag in hand.

"Eli, right? I'm sorry, sometimes I get names mixed up." the hesitant nurse asked, as though he might bite off her hand if she got too close. She had to be new.

"That's what they generally refer to me as, yes." he replied coolly, satisfied in giving her a hard time.

Her eyes went from him to the bag, then back to him. "Your father brought these by just before, they're your clothes." She offered him a small smile, but it couldn't disengage the anger that he felt at the knowledge that his father had been there, but didn't stop to speak to him.

"H-He was just here? Just now?"

"Yes, he came to the desk on the first floor and asked that we get this to you."

Limply, his hand stretched out to grab the bag, then placing it down next to him.

The nurse quickly excused herself, and Eli was left to gape at the undeniable carelessness his father could exude. He really had handed him over to the hospital, content to make him a ward of the state if it meant getting him off his back.

Eli tried to remind himself that he expected this. That he knew Bullfrog wouldn't give a flying fuck if his life depended on it. That although it was a responsibility as his parent to care, he didn't have it in him. He was never cut out to parent a child. Perhaps, if Cece had stuck around, he would have stood a chance at being a decent dad but with her absence, nothing but apathy took her place.

He shook slightly in fury, a latent brand that nipped at his eyelids and threatened to break his composure.

Adam sat nearby, unmoving, as he wasn't sure how to gauge Eli.

"I hate him." Eli seethed to no one in particular, though of course Adam was within earshot.

He nodded solemnly, hesitant to fuel the fire that had already been lit for him.

Turning his head, he exhaled. "Are your parents like this?"

"Like what?"

Humorlessly, Eli scoffed. "Deadbeats."

Understanding showed on Adam's face. "Not in so many words. Though my mom can be a bit...much."

Quirking his brows, he gestured for the boy to continue on.

At once Adam seemed uncomfortable, wiping his hands on his napkin. "It's a long story,"

"I have all the time in the world. Currently I'm letting a drug sedate me to a point close to being comatose. I've got nothing better to do, unless you'd prefer I return my attention back to Winnie the Pooh."

Crinkling his nose at the book which still sat face down on the table, Adam relented. "...Do you know what an FTM is?"

Wracking his brain, Eli tried to find a definition for the abbreviation in his mind, to no avail. He shook his head.

"It stands for female to male transgender." Adam opened his mouth to speak again, but fell short for a moment. "Meaning, I'm all dude, like seriously, all dude. In my head, I am. But physically...I was born in a girl's body."

Out of knee-jerk reaction, Eli's eyes flew to his seemingly flat chest, in awe over the fact that he hadn't noticed sooner. As far as he could tell, Adam passed for a guy without question. Regaining his eye contact, he tried to mask his own shock. "So...you're a guy-"

"in a girl's body. Which sucks. Majorly. I've known since I was old enough to talk. But my mom still sees me as her little girl." His lips curled down in chagrin. "I can't get her to see Adam. She sees 'Gracie'."

"Gracie was your-"

"my name before I transitioned, yeah." he finished his sentence again. "So yeah, she can be unreasonable about it. And when she is, I resort to, well," Adam rolled up his sleeves, the marks Eli had previously seen upon meeting him more apparent up close. "and then she accused me of trying to kill myself. Which I wasn't." His voice was emphatic, and he could tell that it really was the truth. No one who wanted to end their lives would deny it so vehemently. "But she doesn't believe me. So she's making me stay here, even though I'll probably do it again when I get home when she gets on my case about things."

"Has she visited you?" Eli inquired carefully.

"Only to get emotional, break down in front of me and then tell my therapist to detain me longer." groaned Adam, rolling his eyes. "Which was why I was glad when you showed up. At first, I thought they'd make me share a room with a girl, but they get it here. And you get it, well I hope you do."

Quickly he nodded, in full understanding of the situation, though he couldn't say it was one he had encountered before. "You're all dude to me, seriously- as long as I can still let one rip around you."

The mood shifted from heavy to bearable in an instant, and it was a change both boys were grateful for.

"I'd be insulted if you didn't." Adam quipped back, knocking his shoulder against Eli's. "Now, Winnie the Pooh is calling you. We wouldn't want Clare to be disappointed when she visits you tomorrow, would we?"

A wide smile worked at the corners of Eli's mouth. Her name was enough to leave him exultant, even in his heavily medicated state . "No, we would not want that indeed..." he murmured as he lifted the book back up, mindlessly losing himself in the organized mayhem of The Hundred Acre Wood.

Eli felt a sense of relief, being out of the hospital attire and into a familiar pair of his skinny jeans and a band tee. No longer did he look quite as certifiably insane as he was. The paper bracelet around his wrist was enough of a reminder as it was.

The next few hours went by in mind-numbing bliss without much incident, Eli losing himself in Winnie the Pooh's antics until he reached the third to last page. Just then, a nurse wandered to the door.

"Eli? Someone on the payphone is calling for you." she stated, smiling cordially until she walked away.

The payphone, which was located in the far corner of the room right near his, was a place he figured he wouldn't be paying many visits to. He'd seen the fellow patients lining up near it, clamoring over who was taking too long using it and when they'd get their turn. It was a hectic sight he hoped he'd never subject himself to seeing as though the only one who had the number and knew he was there was Bullfrog. After the morning's events, his father oh so blatantly refusing to see him in person while he dropped off his clothes, Eli wondered if he even wanted to speak to him. It would no doubt be an attempt to apologize, however meager and forced it would turn out.

But without his consent, he could feel his feet shuffling from the bed to the door, letting himself out and then heading to the payphone. The phone was sitting idly, the ear and mouth piece resting on the table beside it. He knew the gruff, throaty voice that would greet him at the other end, and he knew how the sound would make him feel.

Or at least, he thought he knew.

"E-Eli?"

Her voice filled his ears and in turn, allowed him to breathe much needed oxygen into his lungs.

"Clare? You called me?"

There was a small pause at the other end. "Well, I mean, I called the hospital and asked to be connected in the small hope that I would reach you- but I knew I might not because I wasn't even sure if you had phones there so when the nurse put me through I just-"

"Edwards," he interrupted, still reeling from the fact that her voice was the one he'd been met with. "I'm glad you did."

Her sigh of relief was audible, though she tried to cover it up with a small cough. "I um, good. I just wanted to talk to you and all."

"You disrupted my time in The One Hundred Acre Wood, tsk tsk," chided Eli humorously, far preferring her company over the phone to the book.

"You're actually reading it?"

"I said I would for you, didn't I?"

The pause on the phone was one Eli could feel, as though the silent beat was circulating through his veins, rummaging through his whole body.

"You did." she whispered, as though it was a secret between them. In the way of Eli's ego and the preservation of it, it almost was. "And, your verdict?"

"Nearly done, three pages left. But I think it's safe to say that I haven't read a book like that in a while. Being on these meds only makes it more trippy..."

"Eli!" giggled Clare, and he knew had they been in person, he would have been the lucky recipient of an arm slap from her. "Are you feeling alright, on that note?"

Despite the heaviness that lurked behind his eyelids, and the static that seemed to be flooding through his mind at any given moment, he could admit that something – though he wasn't sure what – had changed in him. Or was beginning to. A seed for progress had been sown sometime in the week he'd been at the hospital. But a part of him wondered if that was the medication, or a remedy that lived within a pair of blue eyes, and a girl he wished he could call his own.

"I'm out of it. Wiped, I guess. But I don't feel like I want to..." he trailed off for her sake, remembering her reluctance to say the three syllable word. For some reason, he wasn't feeling callous enough around her anymore to say it himself. Her reaction to his wanting to die, the way her arms wound around him without a second thought still stayed with him. It was as though he could feel her phantom embrace whenever he needed it, which was an embarrassingly large amount of the time.

"That's good. That's really, really good, Eli." Clare's voice was firm but gentle, and he could tell she was proud of him. Even if he didn't deserve it, she was proud of him.

He switched ears and leaned against the wall next to the phone, rearranging the thoughts in his head in a coherent manner. "You...you've helped me so much. Why?"

Eli could hear the smile in her voice as she replied, "Why not?"

Leave it to Clare to answer a question that simply.

And that perfectly.

"I don't feel like I deserved to meet you."

"How about you let me be the judge of that, hm?"

Chuckling, he nodded. "Can do. Oh, but uh, you're still coming by tomorrow, right?" He sounded needy and pathetic, and he hated that about himself. But if he got off the phone without asking, the question would keep him up all night. He needed the serenity that the promise of her presence could bring.

"Absolutely. I'm showing up right after school, so expect me sometime around two thirty."

There it was, the peace of mind. It swept through him and kept him sated. "I'll be waiting on bated breath."

"You're not the only one. See you tomorrow, Eli."

"See you, Clare."

He hung up the phone, his breathing a little easier, his thoughts a little clearer, and his burden loads lighter. Once science could figure out how to bottle up and put into capsules the cure that Clare Edwards so readily supplied, a medical breakthrough would be made. It should have troubled him, the confusion between what his priorities in getting better were. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it did. But it was something he could shove into the recesses of his mind for the time being, all in the hopes that somehow, it would add up to the same. If he was lucky, he might come out stronger from all of this, with her help.

The conversation mustered up some dusty motivation in Eli to actually interact with everyone around him, if only for the fact that it might aid in his getting released sooner. The thought of being with Clare outside of the sterilized, crowded hospital walls was an appealing one, and something he wouldn't jeopardize if his life depended on it.

Clare could feel someone standing behind her before she even turned. Though she was feet away, she could feel her mother all but breathing down her neck. Her presence was oppressive.

Calling Eli at home had been a mistake. One she was only fully realizing now.

"You're going where after school at two thirty?" her mother's voice spoke from behind her.

Clare's blood ran cold as she turned to face her, the scrutinizing glare fixed in her expression only making her more fearful. At her sides, her hands trembled uncontrollably.

This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to find out.

She chastised herself for being so rash, so impatient to call him. Was there even a need to call him? No, of course not. It could have waited until not even twenty four hours from then, when she'd sit beside him and discuss the bizarre assortment of books she would be bringing him, ones she had picked out just the night before.

"Clare Diana," she uttered again, her tone more clipped this time, "where are you going after school tomorrow?"

Defeated, Clare knew her mother would make it nearly impossible to see him. Not only the next day, but each one to follow. She wasn't the kind of woman one could bargain with, especially not when it came to Eli. Her father had ruined any and all chances of Helen ever coming around about the boy. While at home, Clare eradicated his name from her vocabulary, for fear of letting on to her visits to see him.

It only took ten minutes of her mother yelling, spewing words that Clare considered nonsense but her mother labeled 'good parenting' to put a complete halt to her plans. By the time her mom stormed out of the room, she was reduced to a sobbing heap on her bed, belittled and berated by her mother's lecture.

I strictly forbade you from seeing him and what do you do? Run behind my back and visit him? Call him under my roof? He's a bad influence for you already.

A boy like that, Clare, a boy like that will ruin you.

I'll call the hospital myself and make sure they don't let you see him. You're not even related. You must have lied to get in there.

You're never seeing him again. I'll be picking you up directly from school every single day if I have to. Never again, Clare.

It all amounted to ringing in her ears in the aftermath, her face bloody red from the exertion of sobbing. Nothing could quell her nerves, unless someone was about to promise her she'd see his face again soon.

"I'm so sorry, Eli. I'm so stupid. I'm sorry," she mumbled into her pillow, though the words would fall on deaf ears. Her promise to see him the very next day felt like a lie now, one she would never stop hating herself for.