2.
Shawn felt as if he was walking on eggshells.
He had seen that expression years before, in an old book that he had read. He didn't understand it at first- how could you walk on eggshells? were they on the floor? and why didn't someone just sweep them up? but now he knew exactly what the saying meant- trying to get through the day without breaking, or being broken yourself.
The goofy, silly, always fun to be around Eric that he had came with to New York with was gone. In his place was a sullen, angry man that called himself Eric. This man didn't walk like Eric, didn't speak like Eric, and he certainly didn't act like him. As far as Shawn could tell, the only thing that the two had in common was the face and the name.
Shawn always observed people around him. It was a thing that he had absorbed a long time before- always know what the people around you are up to. So he noticed how Eric never took the elevator anymore, how he despised the subway and now took the bus to work, even though it was a longer ride. How he flinched from human contact, even though he tried to hide that fact. How he never ate anymore, unless Shawn goaded him into it. So Shawn watched this man, who he referred to privately as Not-Eric, walk around the apartment as opposed to bouncing. He missed his friend with an ache that was almost physical.
One day, Shawn woke up, and looked over at Not-Eric, who was asleep, but not peacefully. Even dreaming, his face was contorted into a grimace, and every so often, he would groan, or shift restlessly.
Finally, Shawn had had enough and got out of his bed. Slipping on a pair of pants and a shirt, he closed the bedroom door. Grabbing a pair of shoes, his keys, and his wallet, he quietly walked out of the apartment and to a place that he knew well.
The place itself was non-descript, a small entrance in a large building that housed an assortment of businesses. Shawn went into it and climbed three flights of stairs and then walked down a corridor until he came to the place he was looking for. There was no label on the door, but Shawn knew exactly what to expect.
As he entered quietly, he noticed that a meeting was already in session. Not wanting to disturb them, he sat down and listened as the people talked about what they had came there for.
After most of the people had left, he approached the person that had led the meeting, Dan. Dan turned and smiled genuinely. "Hello, Shawn. I don't usually see you today."
"Yeah, well, I really needed someone to talk to and I didn't think that I could wait until group."
"You know I'm always here to talk. Would you like some coffee?" At Shawn's head shake, he continued, "The next meeting starts in an hour, so until then, I'm all yours." Dan crossed the room and locked the door. "So, spill your guts."
"It's about the guy I talked about last meeting," Shawn began hesitantly. "I don't think that he's telling me the whole truth."
"Are you talking about your roommate?" Shawn nodded. "Well, what did he tell you?"
"He told us that someone had tried to take his wallet, but he fought back, and the guy didn't like that too well. That's a good explanation, but there's still too many clues that aren't adding up."
"Like?"
Shawn briefly detailed Eric's new personality, his aversion to enclosed spaces, and the other things that had changed about him. "He's not the same person at all," Shawn finished, staring down at his hands. "I'm just worried about him."
"It's good to be concerned about others, but how is it making you feel, Shawn? I know you wouldn't open up about this if it didn't upset you in some way."
Shawn heard the unspoken question. "Yeah, I'm upset, because he's my friend, but... I'm together. See?" He pushed the sleeves of his long shirt up. Other than the old scar on his left arm that he had, and always would, his arms were unblemished.
"I wasn't doubting that. But... how are you inside?"
"Scared," Shawn admitted. "I'm scared that he'll do something like I did, because that's not the way to deal with things."
"Have you talked to him about your fear?"
"I've tried, I really have, but he's more likely to snap at me than to listen to me nowadays." Shawn sighed and slumped in his chair. "Well, it didn't help me to find a solution, but it did help to talk. Thanks, Dan."
Dan clapped his shoulder briefly. "Anytime. You staying for the next meeting?"
"I would like to, but I can't," Shawn said regretfully. "I have to get to class today. But I'll be here tomorrow for group."
"Okay, see you then." Dan walked Shawn to the door.
As Shawn left the building, feeling slightly better than he had, he wondered what his next move should be.
***
Eric had never been one to cry. Of course, up until now, he'd never really had a good reason to cry.
He just told himself that there was always a silver lining to the cloud, but now the rain seemed to be never-ending.
Every night, he had the same dream- that he was in a well that was dark and cold. He would try climbing toward the faint light, but the walls were slippery, and he never could get enough purchase to make any progress. He felt that the dream accurately portrayed how he felt now.
When he woke up from the dream, a sense of hopelessness would fill him. He would think to himself that this would be the day that he finally broke down and let the tears he always felt flow, but they remained where they were, in a leaden ball he could feel in his heart.
He knew that his friends and family were concerned about him. Whenever he went home, which wasn't often, his mother would cluck over him and try to get him to eat endless amounts of food that tasted like sawdust to him. His father always let him know that there was always a position open for him at the store. Cory and Topanga tried to get him to do things with them, which he always declined. And Shawn... Shawn was the person who had to deal with him day in and day out, which couldn't be easy. Sometimes Eric didn't feel like dealing with himself. But Shawn was always there, offering support even when Eric didn't want it.
Eric shook his head at his thoughts, and then got out of bed, glad that Shawn had Saturday classes. He dressed quickly, and absentmindedly, not bothering to note that he had to tighten his belt another notch. He grabbed his wallet and keys, and left the apartment. He ran down the stairs, and emerged at the bottom only slightly out of breath.
He started walking determinedly, not noting any of the things around him. The walk was only about fifteen minutes from his apartment, and before long, he was looking up at the building that he planned to enter. He hesitated briefly, then entered with the same focus that he had shown on the way there.
He had to take the elevator up- it was too long for stairs, even for him- and the elevator was cramped, which didn't make him feel any less uncomfortable, but the ride didn't take long, and he was soon standing on the observation deck, overlooking most of New York from the Empire State Building.
He stared aimlessly at the cityscape, not noticing the children laughing around him, or even the cars that looked like toys on the blocks down below. Instead, he thought about how high up he was, like no one would ever touch him again, because he was out of their reach. He rather liked that idea. As usual, his thoughts turned darker. He stared down and wondered idly if he decided to climb the security wiring and just... stand there, in the open, would anyone stop him? Would anyone care?
He briefly entertained the thought of weightlessness, and how it would feel to be surrounded only by air.
He stood there for a while longer, feeling the wind pull at his face long after it had turned numb from the cold. He only snapped out of it when the sun started to sink lower in the sky, and he belatedly remembered that he had neglected to grab a jacket before leaving the apartment. He turned to leave, after taking one last glance. He knew that he would come back tomorrow.
