There hadn't been room in Miles' conscious mind for something as decisive as a destination when he ran off, but it seemed his unconsciousness had made the decision for him. Before he knew it, he was on the street Maya lived on, trying to decide if his complete panic was worth waking up a household for.

If he had had any more pills on him, Miles may just have found somewhere to take them and cool off - he had woken up outside once, recently, after all, so how bad could doing so intentionally be, really? - but the point was moot. He had the panic and no pills to dull it.

Feeling like the most inconsiderate asshole in the world, Miles went to ring the doorbell to the Mattlins house. He had no idea how many times he did it, or how long it took before the door to open, but when it did, he was already apologizing:

"Sorry, I'm really sorry, I…" Miles gasped for air, only now noticing that he was crying. "I didn't know where else to go, I… I…"

He hadn't looked up to check who'd opened it before he started talking, but he saw now that it was Maya's mother.

"Miles… come in," she said and stepped aside to allow him to do so.

He hesitated for the slightest of moments, but then walked past her. He hurriedly stepped out of his shoes and went into the living room. He probably shouldn't just invite himself to sit down on their couch as if he lived here, but he couldn't be bothered by that right now. He heard Maya's voice, but it was muffled.

"Miles," her mother answered to what Maya must have asked. "He's in the living room."

A moment later, they both stepped into the living room. Miles knew what was coming. Stepping inside had meant stepping into the light, after all. He didn't look at either of them. He heard a small gasp from Maya.

"You're bleeding," she said.

Miles frowned and, forgetting himself, looked up at Maya in confusion. He quickly averted his eyes again.

"I am?" he said.

"It's your nose," Mrs. Matlin said.

He felt under it, and sure enough, there was a bit of blood leaking from it.

"Maya, go get him a paper towel," Mrs Matlin said.

"But…"

"Go."

And so Maya did.

While Miles wiped away tears from his cheeks, chastising himself for them, Mrs. Matlin sat down next to him on the sofa, though she left a gap between them.

"What happened?" she asked calmly.

Miles felt anything but calm at the prospect of having to answer that question. He was quiet for a long moment as he stubbornly fought to keep calm, taking shuddering breaths and running his hands up and down his thighs while internally screaming at himself to keep it inside, for god's sake, keep it inside.

"My dad, he…"

The moment he spoke, Miles battle was rendered hopeless: his throat constricted itself and tears started to well up in his eyes again, leaving him a sobbing mess. Miles felt a tentative, questioning hand on his shoulder and before long, he was crying into Mrs. Matlin's shoulder, all thoughts of pretense gone. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, there was nothing but his pain and Mrs. Matlin's arms around him as he purged it in a way he hadn't done for years and years.

There was no saying how much time had passed when Miles finally calmed down again. It felt at once like mere minutes or the whole night. It was still dark out, of course, so it definitely wasn't the latter, but Maya must have both come and gone while Miles was crying, because when he stopped, Mrs. Matlin handed him the paper towel she'd used to get rid of her the first time around, but Maya was nowhere to be seen.

While Miles gently dabbed the paper towel against the bottom of his nose, he noticed the blood he'd smeared on Mrs. Matlin's sleeve.

"Sorry," he said hoarsely.

"It's okay, Miles, of course it's okay. We all need to cry sometimes, especially…" She didn't seem able to make herself say it, but she took Miles hand and squeezed it. "You shouldn't have to deal with this, sweetheart."

"Thanks," Miles mumbled. "I meant the blood though."

Mrs. Matlin followed his eyes to her sleeve and made a dismissive motion when she noticed what he was talking about.

"Don't worry about that," she said and turned back to him. "Do you want something? Some water, perhaps? Tea?"

"Water, please," Miles said.

As Mrs. Matlin got up to get it for him, Miles pulled his legs up on the couch and hugged them. It seemed at once difficult to think and difficult to not think. Every time he tried to follow a thought, a thousand others dragged him in all directions at once, but when he tried to relax and not think, the memory of his dad was impossible to dismiss.

"Here," Mrs. Matlin said and held out a glass towards Miles.

"Thanks," he said as he took it.

They sat in silence for a bit while Miles drank.

"Has your dad done something like this before?"

Miles sank something. He wanted to speak, but found that he couldn't. His tongue felt all weird and despite the water he'd been drinking, it stuck to the roof of his suddenly dry mouth.

A slight nod ended up being all the answer he gave.

Mrs. Matlin frowned, then nodded too. She slowly put an arm over his shoulders, and squeezed softly.

"We'll talk about this tomorrow," she said. "I think you should try to sleep a bit, don't you?"

"Maybe…"

The idea of being alone with his thoughts again was anything but appealing to Miles, if he was being honest. But of course, the moment he actually fell asleep, it would be a relief...

"I'm going to go make the bed in the guest room, you just wait here, okay?"

Miles nodded wordlessly. The moment Mrs. Matlin left the room, he fished his phone out of his pants pocket where he'd forgotten all about it. The time was 3:53 am. Not a lot of battery left. He had a powerbank at home, but never remembered to bring it anywhere. He had an Oomf from Esme. She was in her bra, thanking him for a fun night. Yeah.


The next morning - well, noon - Miles woke up to a banging headache and a text from Frankie. Those were really the two missing components in this whole mess, weren't they? He rolled over in bed, groaning. He considered not answering at all, but he supposed Frankie had more than enough for a 15 year old to worry about without adding his whereabouts to the list.

Where r u? you said you'd drive me :(

sorry i'm at a friend's

The text was hours old, so Miles didn't know if it mattered at this point, but there it was. He stayed in bed 10 minutes longer, but then felt hungry enough to motivate him to get up. He stepped into yesterday's clothes, then went downstairs. To his faint surprise, Mrs. Matlin was sitting in the living room with a cup of coffee and a book. She looked up when Miles walked in to the room and smiled softly.

"How are you doing?"

Miles was just about to say "fine" when the absurdity occurred to him. He laughed and shook his head.

"Yeah, um, I'm... hungry."

Well, that was true, at least.

Mrs. Matlin got up.

"I'll make you some eggs if you'd like."

"Thanks," Miles said.

The next few hours were calm. Miles ate, pretended to watch TV, was on his phone and ignored all incoming messages. Not that there were a lot, actually. One from Frankie and quite a few from his mom, but none from anyone else. Still, the last thing he wanted right now was to speak to his mother, so Miles ignored it, as he ignored everything but the latest distraction. He even ignored Maya when she got home.

He knew it couldn't last, though.

At around 5 o'clock, Miles mom stormed into the place.

"Where is he?" He heard her ask, clearly upset.

"He's upstairs, I'll- Oh, hi there, Miles!"

Miles stared down at the two women from the staircase.

"You called her?" he asked Mrs. Matlin.

"I had to," she said, seeming genuinely apologetic.

Miles scoffed and turned around, ignoring his mom's calls after him and slamming the door as if he was at home. He immediately started feeling guilty; Mrs. Matlin had been so nice to him, and yet he had to push her away already? What was wrong with him?

A long time passed, or so it seemed to Miles. Though he tried not to, he kept hearing voices from downstairs. If he were at home, he would have put on headphones, but he hadn't thought to bring any last night. Instead he just kept staring at his phone, desperate to be distracted from what his reality had become.

Eventually, he heard footsteps then a knock on his door.

"Miles…?" Maya asked.

Miles was surprised to hear her instead of her mother; he'd deliberately stayed away from her since last night. Nevertheless, Miles got up and opened the door for her.

"Your mom left and mine... " Maya hesitated. "Well, she's a bit upset, so she's order pizza for dinner. It should be here soon."

"My mom left..?" Miles asked, eyebrows furrowed. "No, that's… that doesn't make sense…"

Since when was Miles' mother going to leave him alone just because he wanted her to? He couldn't fathom how Mrs. Matlin had gotten her to leave without insisting on talking to him.

"You'll have to ask mom," Maya said and turned to go. "Coming?"

"Yeah…"

When they got downstairs, Mrs. Matlin looked extremely agitated. She was in the kitchen getting plates and cutlery ready, but was handling it with such force that it was clear she was doing it mostly to do something. She stopped for a moment when she spotted them, but then picked right back up.

"I hear mom left," Miles said. "How did you manage that?"

Mrs Matlin just shook her head.

"She wouldn't listen to anything," she said, more to herself than in answer of Miles' question. "I told her what you were like last night, what had happened, and she just wouldn't…"

Mrs. Matlin sighed deeply, as if doing so would get her anger out with her breath.

"I can't fathom how that woman cares more about staying with such a man than her own child's welfare!"

Miles wished she wouldn't feel so indignant on his behalf. He was hardly worth it.

"You don't look surprised," Mrs. Matlin said, assesing Miles with her eyes.

"Well," he said with a humorless chuckle, "she's consistent if nothing else."

"You mean she already knew?" Mrs. Matlin asked.

Miles moved his weight from one foot to the other with discomfort.

"Does it matter?" he finally asked.

"Of course!" both Matlins exclaimed.

Miles just sighed.

"It is what it is, okay?" He said. "I'll figure it out. I have money, I don't know…"

"You'll stay here as long as you want to," Mrs. Matlin told him firmly. "I mean it, Miles, you're welcome here as long as you need."

Miles sank something and for the first time all day, he felt like he was going to cry. He had cried so much last night that he had been empty of it all day, but this was different. This cut through the exhaustion.

"Thank you," Miles said.

How could it be that this woman, who had never known him as anything but a troublesome boyfriend of her daughter, was so much more interested in taking care of him than either of his parents? His mom cared, of course she did. But she didn't want to see what his dad was. His dad cared as well, in his own way. He wouldn't get so angry if he didn't. But caring wasn't all that mattered, not when actions didn't follow. No, as Miles stared into Mrs. Matlin's eyes for those long, long seconds, expressing all the gratitude he didn't have it in him to speak, he knew that though Mrs. Matlin hardly knew him, hardly had reason to care, in this moment, she was taking much better care of him than his parents had for many years. She smiled at him softly, as if his look had really managed to convey all this to her.

Then the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" Maya yelled as she ran towards the door and away from the heavy atmosphere.

"You will have to talk to her at some point, though" Mrs. Matlin said softly.

"I know," Miles said, "and I will. It was just too soon."