Sylvain got a new roommate yesterday. He was a small boy, with messy gray hair and shy, green eyes. He hadn't said two words to Sylvain except to say that his name was Ashe. Shortly after arriving early in the morning, early enough that breakfast hadn't even been served yet, Ashe toppled onto his bottom bunk and passed out. This wasn't really a surprise to Sylvain, most people slept the first day they were here. Felix had on his first day, and so had the large, dark skinned man who didn't speak. He remembered doing so himself on his first day. Between the emotionally taxing admittance process and the amount of time it takes for enough of the correct professionals to finish the absurd amount of paperwork to just get you a room, most people are exhausted the first day.

Sylvain's admittance process had been particularly taxing on him. He had awoken his mother up in the middle of the night crying over the toilet in pain. She had immediately panicked and rushed him and, much to Sylvain's chagrin, the rest of the family to the ER. It had come as multiple layers of shock when Sylvain was diagnosed with chlamydia.

If you had mentioned chlamydia to Sylvain before that day, he would have sworn up and down that only women could contract it. As it turns out, men can contract chlamydia too. But it was rare for them to experience many, if any, symptoms. Lucky Sylvain. On the other hand, it seemed that a quick round of antibiotics would clear the issue up nicely and Sylvain wouldn't be in pain any longer. The bigger problem was what contracting chlamydia revealed about his sex life.

Both his parents were convinced that Sylvain was a proper and dutiful son and saving himself for marriage. Unbeknownst to them, Sylvain had been rebelling behind their back and bedding just about any willing person he could get in contact with. His brother knew, he had caught Sylvain once in the bathrooms in High School, and Miklan took great pleasure in threatening to reveal his secret to their parents. Once the doctor revealed that Sylvain had contracted an STI, Miklan could barely contain his mocking glee. He was barely holding in the laughter when the doctor began to ask questions about who, and how many people, he had slept with recently.

By then his parents had mirrored looks of horror on their faces. Sylvain's dad had to actually leave the room, a blood vein popping up on his forehead. Desperately, Sylvain had wished that he could speak to the doctor alone. Admitting any part of his pleasure seeking habits to his parents felt shameful and dangerous. Looking back, Sylvain realizes that he could have asked for a private consultation with the doctor, such was the law. But he didn't know that then, so he answered the doctors' questions, listening to Miklan's stifled laughter and pointedly not looking at his mother.

Sylvain did his best to answer the doctors' questions. He didn't know how many people he slept with recently, he wasn't keeping track. It was one or two times a day, three if he could manage it. No, usually not with the same partner. He did his best to avoid repeat experiences. He might be able to contact a few of them and let them know they were at risk of getting chlamydia, but he didn't keep most of their contact information. He hadn't been feeling well for a day or so, but hadn't been in that much pain until tonight. No, he didn't use condoms.

Then the doctors' questions took a turn. They began asking less about his sexual health and more about his sexual habits. How often did he masrubate? Did he frequent any pornographic sources? How often did he look at porn? Did he ever participate in risky sexual activities such as exposition? How often did sexual activities or thoughts prevent him from participating in day to day activities? Sylvain felt more and more embarrassed with every question he answered. However, the doctor didn't reveal any hint of judgement. They just nodded their head and made notes on their clipboard.

Before Sylvain could figure out why the doctor was asking him so many personal questions, the doctor left. This left Sylvain to the wrath of his parents, who spent the next hour or so having a quiet, but heated, conversation just outside his door. They acted like their sons couldn't hear them, but Miklan made sure Sylvain was privy to every word.

To Sylvain's surprise, the next doctor to see him was a social worker, who informed his family that they needed to have a private conversation with Sylvain. Once they were alone, they asked Sylvain more questions like the ones he had already answered. Then she asked if he had ever heard of Hypersexualilty Disorder. Sylvain only stared dumbly at her and shook his head. They explained to Sylvain that they suspected he was addicted to sex. It worked much in the same way as people addicted to food or alcohol. Sylvain didn't really understand what they were talking about, but then they surprised him again.

They offered to have him admitted to the mental ward and Garreg Mach Medical Campus. The social worker said they could help him break out of his addictive habits and learn skills in order to manage his life in a healthy way. Sylvain, who was still reeling from the idea that someone could even be addicted to sex, took a long time to consider the idea. In the end, the thought of being able to escape his home, be away from his brother and perpetually disappointed parents, even if it was for a few days in a mental ward, made the decision easy.

The social worker offered to talk to his family for him, and he quickly agreed. They had a conversation with his parents, this time out of Sylvain's ear shot, and it was decided that Sylvain would be admitted to the Blue Lions Ward. From there Sylvain thought it would be an easy process, but he was surprised again that night. As it turned out, he had to have another interview with another social worker before he was given a room in the mental ward. Then they all had to walk to another building, go through security with a bunch of sleepy looking security guards, and settle Sylvain into his room.

His parents begrudgingly agreed to bring Sylvain some comforts from home, namely clothes (no laces or drawstrings), and they left. By then it was nearly six o'clock in the morning, and Sylvain had been in the hospital for over five hours. He had climbed under the covers on the top bunk and slept all the way until dinner was served, when a doctor woke him up to make sure he ate some food and took the next dose of his antibiotic. That was a week and a half ago.

The long and short of it was, Sylvain understood that Ashe felt like he needed a day to rest. He didn't disturb the younger boy all day, in fact he avoided their room just to make sure Ashe was left alone. Sylvain didn't interact with Ashe until room check the next morning. As was typical, Sylvain slept in until the nurse came in to lift the mattresses and pull back the bedsheets. He rolled out of bed, only covered in pajamas, and leaned against the wall rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

"What's happening?" Ashe whispered to him, having also gotten up and stood next to Sylvain.

"Just morning room check," Sylvain yawned. "I guess that makes it 7:30," he mused.

"Room check?" Ashe asked, sounding nervous.

"Yeah. They check the rooms every morning to make sure we don't have any contraband hidden anywhere. It's no big deal really. It's mostly to make sure we aren't hiding anything that we could use to hurt ourselves with."

"I see…" Ashe muttered, looking pale.

The nurse fiddled around a second longer before turning to the two boys. "Ashe, what is this?" In the palm of her hand she held a small, hotel lotion bottle. One that Sylvain recognized immediately.

"Oh hey, that's mine." Sylvain admitted instantly. That was the lotion bottle he had snuck out of Anette's care package and had planned to use as a lubricant, but had lost yesterday. He didn't know what Ashe's problems were, but he wasn't about to let Ashe take the fall for something that wasn't entirely his fault.

"So why was it tucked in the corner of your mattress Ashe?" the nurse asked. She used a calm, non-condescending tone, but her words still felt accusatory. It made Sylvain uncomfortable.

"Because I took it…" Ashe said as quietly as he could. Sylvain didn't think the clearly malnourished boy could look any more pale, but he was wrong.

"Why did you take it?" She asked. This nurse was quickly becoming Sylvain's least favorite member of the staff. Then again, this could be part of Ashe's therapy process, and Sylvain would be remiss to interrupt.

"Because it was there…" Ashe was slowly sinking into his thin T-shirt.

"Would you like to give it back to Sylvain and apologize?" She asked, and Sylvain got the sense that this was not a suggestion.

Slowly, Ashe took the bottle from the nurse, and then turned to Sylvain. "I'm sorry I took this," he whispered, not looking up from the floor.

"It's not a big deal man, thanks for giving it back," Sylvain said, with a bright smile and a wink. Then, because he thought this might be meaningful for Ashe to hear, he said, "I forgive you."

Ashe glanced up at Sylvain, eyes watery, but it was progress.

"And Sylvain, for you that is considered contraband," the nurse said. "I will have to take that off your hands."

"Ah, you caught me," Sylvain grinned, rubbing the back of his head. "Here you go." He handed the bottle back to the nurse and began to wonder if any of that exchange was necessary.

The nurse nodded and left the room. Sylvain sighed and rolled his eyes at her. Next to him, Ashe sniffed quietly and tried to discreetly rub his nose.

"Look man, it's really no big deal. No hard feelings," Sylvain tried to reassure his roommate.

Ashe nodded and took a moment to steady his voice. "You said they do this every morning?"

"Every morning," Sylvain said as brightly as he could, placing a hopefully comforting hand on Ashe's shoulder. The therapist had tried to explain to Sylvain how a simple, kind touch could mean a lot to a person in distress. He hoped this would work with Ashe.

A shout echoed down the hallway. "I wasn't going to use it!"

Sylvain chuckled. "And that would be Felix and his shive."

Ashe finally looked up at Sylvain in confusion and surprise. "Felix… A shive…?"

"Like I said, every morning," Sylvain smiled and winked, meaning with every little gesture for Ashe to not feel embarrassed, he wasn't the only one turning up contraband in the morning. Running with the flow of positive energy, Sylvain slung an arm over Ashe's shoulder and said, "Come on, let's go get breakfast. I'm sure you're hungry."