"Eiríkur, come back here," Niklas called as his brother ran out the door. What he had meant to be a firm command came out as a weak whisper, and his precious little brother didn't listen. He turned to Magnus and glared. "Why the hell did you say that?" he asked harshly.
"Well, it was true," replied his boyfriend defensively, holding his hands out. "You said so yourself: as long as he's happy, you can eat."
"It's not his fault he's not happy."
"I didn't say it was his fault; I only said he didn't help. It was his choice not to speak to us." Niklas sighed. Sometimes his boyfriend could be dense beyond belief.
"I have to go talk to him." He slowly stood up, but the movement still made the room spin.
"Technically, I can't allow you to do that, Niklas," interjected the therapist. "Now that you're checked in as a patient, you're only allowed on the second floor with the other adults."
"Please, I really need to speak with him." She sighed and looked down at her watch.
"I can give you until the end of the session, but then you have to go upstairs."
"Thank you." Niklas looked at his own watch that threatened to slip off his hand. He had about half an hour.
"I'll wait here, babe," Magnus called as Niklas left.
He looked around for any sign of his brother, but he was already long gone. He saw an Asian boy about Eiríkur's age walking down the hallway from where Niklas had signed in.
"Excuse me," Niklas called quietly. "Do you know my brother, Eiríkur? He has blonde hair, but paler than mine, and kind of purple-blue eyes?"
"Are you Niklas?" the boy asked, looking him over with a bored expression. Funny, Eiríkur makes that face a lot, too.
"Yes, I am." The boy mumbled something that sounded like he likes skeletons. "What was that?"
"Nothing. I think I saw him go…" The boy looked down the hallway, thinking to himself. "Actually, I think he went to the bathroom," he said smoothly, pointing the opposite direction of where he had looked. "It's at the end of the hallway."
"Okay, thank you…Sorry, what was your name?"
"Xiao." The boy looked bored again.
"Thank you, Xiao."
"Uh, huh."
The boy walked slowly down the hallway, and Niklas hurried the other way. He found the bathroom and pushed the door open. Stalls lined one wall, and sinks lined the other. It reminded him of the halfway house he and Eiríkur would go to between foster homes. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror. Xiao had said something about a skeleton, and he had probably meant Niklas. He looked like death at the moment. But I'm here to get better. He shook his head. He had more important things to worry about at the moment.
"Eiríkur, are you in here?" he called softly.
No one responded. He didn't hear anyone in the bathroom, so he walked around checking the stalls. No one was in there. That boy must have been mistaken. He hurried out of the bathroom and down to the other end of the hallway. He saw Xiao again standing in a doorway, and the boy took notice of him.
"Not in there?" he said, and he didn't sound the least bit surprised. "He must be in the lounge, then. It's right down there." He pointed, his slender frame managing to cover the doorway. Niklas had the feeling he was being pranked, but he decided to check anyway.
He quickly walked to the entrance of the lounge and looked in. There were two identical blonde boys arguing, but neither of them was Eiríkur. When Niklas turned around, he thought he saw a silvery blonde boy run into the bathroom. He started to follow, but Xiao stepped out in front of him.
"What is going on?" he demanded in what he hoped was a strong voice. He put his hands on his hips and glared at the boy who only stared back, bored.
"I hear you're checked in," said Xiao calmly. "Shouldn't you be upstairs with the other adults?"
"I need to speak to my brother."
"I don't think you need to."
"I don't think it's any of your business." Niklas crossed his arms, and Xiao mirrored him.
"What makes you think he wants to talk to you? Do you think everything will magically be better if you talk things out?" Niklas narrowed his eyes, and Xiao copied again.
"It can't hurt," was all Niklas could think of. It was pathetic, and Xiao's face told him so.
"Actually, it can. If you don't want to hurt your brother more today, I would suggest you leave him the hell alone."
"Who do you think you are?" Niklas asked, but his voice sounded tired and resigned.
"I'm his friend." Xiao moved aside, and Niklas walked back towards the family center.
"I'm glad he has a friend like you," he said quietly over his shoulder. He felt so tired, like he could sleep for months. He hoped his little brother would be okay; he couldn't bear to hurt him.
"Hey, hun, did ya talk to him?" Magnus asked, holding his arms out for a hug. Niklas gratefully stepped into the welcoming circle of warmth, ignoring the therapist that watched them.
"I couldn't find him," he whispered resignedly.
"You'll get another chance to talk to him next week," offered the therapist. Niklas nodded slightly into his boyfriend's chest.
"It's time for me to go, babe," Magnus said gently. "I'll be back next week, and you know I'm only a phone call away." Niklas nodded again, and Magnus released him.
He let himself be led by the therapist down the hallway towards the bathrooms. As they took the stairs to the left of the boys' bathroom, Niklas wondered if Eiríkur was still in there. Once upstairs, the therapist ushered him into another therapist's office then left.
This therapist seemed a bit younger, and he was a lot less intense than the other. But she was supposedly Eiríkur's therapist, and that worried Niklas a little. He voiced his opinions to the man.
"Yeah, they tend to put the more experienced people with the minors," he answered. "It gives the families more assurance, but the therapists also tend to be more jaded. I'm sure your brother is fine, though. Why don't you sit down, Niklas? Let's talk about why you're here."
He complied with a sigh. "I'm here, because I can't eat."
"What are you hoping to accomplish while you're here?"
"I want to be healthy."
"Do you know why you can't eat?"
Niklas nodded. "It's a long story, though."
"We've got time. Why don't you start at the beginning?" He nodded again. He liked telling stories. He used to tell Eiríkur a bedtime story every night that he made up himself. It shouldn't be too hard to tell his own story. He took a deep breath and began.
Our parents died when we were young, but I can still remember them. Eiríkur, my little brother, probably doesn't remember them at all. They didn't have a lot of money, but they seemed happy. Every once in a while my father would take my mother out for a date night. We didn't have any close family, so they left us with a babysitter.
One night they didn't come back from their date. I remember the babysitter's mom waking us up. They had been in a car crash. My father was a little too drunk on the way home, and he took out another car. The other people lived; our parents died. Their family sued my parents' estate for hospital bills. At the age of nine, I had lost my parents and all of their savings.
No family came to claim us, so we got tossed into the foster care system. You're probably wondering how two little blonde boys managed not to get adopted. No one wanted to adopt the both of us, and I made sure we weren't separated. It's hard to get adults to listen to you when you're that young, but I threw enough tantrums to make it clear. It worked for a long time, until Eiríkur was about twelve. That was when they decided he was old enough to be on his own, and we were shipped off to separate families.
From what Eiríkur told me, he ended up in a nice enough family. They had a dog and two other foster kids. But they didn't want anyone older than sixteen, and that's what I was. I told him I would come for him when I was old enough, and that's what kept me going for our two years apart.
I was sent to live with this middle-aged guy who lived by himself. He made it clear when I got there that I wasn't wanted. I did all the chores around the house, and he kept the money the system gave him to himself.
I found a job at a coffee shop near his house. I worked twenty hours a week while trying to get through high school, because I had to save up money to take care of my brother. When I came home with my first paycheck, he stole it. He said it was to pay for my food and clothes. I was so frustrated that I cried, and he laughed. I told him to stop buying food for me; I would get my own.
I could get free coffee from my job, and during my breaks I would sneak a pastry or two. The manager pretended not to notice when I took food, and I think he realized that was all I ever ate. He helped me out a lot, actually. He increased my hours and my pay, even though I wasn't the best employee. He even let me keep my money in the safe in the back until I could get a bank account.
After about a year working there, we started dating. When we were alone together, everything spilled out. I told Magnus about my brother and my dead parents and my foster father. He asked what my dream was, and I was stuck. I never get stuck, but I had never thought about what I wanted to do with my life. All I wanted was to get my little brother back.
Magnus let me stay at his apartment on weekends, and during the week I could go there for a quiet place to study. He only pointed out my weight a couple of times, but he always tried to get me to eat. I told him I wouldn't eat food that I didn't buy myself, but I didn't tell him I didn't have money to spare on food.
Things weren't terrible that last year. My foster father didn't take much notice of my absence, until he realized I was at another guy's place. He called me a faggot, but I ignored him. I finished high school, and when I turned eighteen, I moved in with Magnus. We found a bigger apartment, and he helped me become another manager at the coffee shop.
I was able to get custody of Eiríkur, and thanks to my careful saving, we had enough money to get by. I was able to eat again for the most part. But whenever Eiríkur had a bad day at school, did badly on a test, I found I couldn't eat. Magnus noticed, and I told him as long as my little brother was happy, I could eat. We tried to keep him happy, but he made it clear that he didn't like Magnus. I can understand that, since they're almost total opposites, and he doesn't know how much Magnus has helped us. Now Eiríkur is hurting himself, and he won't tell me what's wrong. So now I can't eat.
