"…I could take every f***ing word she says
Throw it in her face
but would she even care
I still remember when she looked at me
that frown upon her face
Trying to be sincere
I gathered all those little things she said
Kept them close to me
Trying to make this real
This cloud will always hover over me
I'm leaving you today
'cause now I see…"

--Cold

"Ephram? Ephram. We're home," Andy Brown tells his son as he parks the SUV in the driveway. Ephram doesn't reply. He hears his father speaking but it is quiet compared to his mother's screaming inside his head.

After a long talk with Delia, Andy had sent her to visit his wife's parents in New York for a few days. Delia, insisting on seeing her brother, had accepted his new 'silent' state and seemed to understand that Ephram and Andy need some time to work through his problems. Ephram has not spoken to anyone in days.

Dr. Brown decided to take Ephram home, to give him a chance with outpatient therapy to heal himself without the trauma of being institutionalized.

Ephram steps out of the SUV and waits for his father to get out of the SUV. Amy is sitting on the front porch of the house with Colin. They stand up as Andy and Ephram approach.

"Amy. Colin. We weren't expecting you," Dr. Brown says, unsure of how his son is going to react. Ephram surprises them all by not reacting at all.

"We were worried about Ephram. My father won't tell me anything so we thought…" Amy stammers, stricken by Ephram's pale skin and bandaged arm.

Andy steadies his trembling son with a hand on his shoulder. He glances at Ephram, but the boy has his eyes glued to the ground in front of him.

"Ephram's not really up for company right now," Dr. Brown says, after a long pause.

"Hey, Eph," Colin says, quietly. Ephram nods in response. He is surprised to see his 'quasi-friends' here, but he knows that as soon as he speaks that the volume of his mother's insults will increase.

"Ephram?" Amy calls.

Andy unlocks the door and takes Ephram's bag from him.

"You're mute now or something?" Amy teases, nervously, glancing at Colin, concerned.

Ephram shrugs in response, not meeting their eyes.

"Ephram. Come on, you're scaring me…" Amy says, honestly when he doesn't respond.

Ephram doesn't answer.

"That's okay, if you don't feel like talking. Do you mind if we hang out for a while? We could fill you in on all the Everwood gossip that you've missed," Colin says, putting a reassuring arm around Amy.

Ephram shrugs and walks through the open door into the house. Colin and Amy follow him, tentatively. Andy watches the group, still concerned about Ephram's reaction and lack thereof. Ephram nods for them to follow him upstairs to his room where Dr. Brown has dropped off his bag for him.

Ephram leads Colin and Amy into his room. He sits down on the bed.

"Ephram. Please, say something," Amy urges, sitting down beside him. Ephram shakes his head. He covers his face in his hands, upset that he has to deal with his friends' concern right now. He is struggling not to break down any further but having Amy and Colin here is stretching his control. He meets her gaze for the first time, willing her to stop questioning him.

"What's this all about, Ephram?" Colin asks after a long pause. He reaches out and gently pulls Ephram's bandaged hand away from his face. "We're all friends here, right? What happened?"

Ephram glances at him, his face blank.

"You've been struggling with some stuff for a while now, I get that Ephram, but this…" Colin releases his hand. "I just don't understand."

"Ephram, are you going to talk to us?" Amy asks, on the verge of tears.

"Colin. Amy. Maybe its time for you two to leave. You can come back when Ephram is feeling better," Andy says, standing in the hallway. Amy and Colin reluctantly leave Ephram's side and step into the hallway. Ephram stands up to close the door but Dr. Brown stops him.

"Door open. Okay?" Dr. Brown says, softly. Ephram sighs, but nods assent. He waves goodbye to Colin and Amy.

Dr. Brown walks the teenagers to the front door.

"Dr. Brown. Is Ephram…" Amy starts.

"Ephram is sick. He's going to get better, but he needs time. I'm sorry you had to see him like this…" Andy starts.

"What should we do for him? I mean…he won't even talk. Is he talking to you?" Colin asks.

Andy shakes his head. "No. He's not talking to anyone. He just needs a little time…"

"Can we come back and visit him? I…We should have known that he was…sick…" Amy is clearly shaken.

"I'll talk to your father about it, Amy, right now I'm just taking it one day at a time. Thanks for coming by, guys, I'm sure Ephram appreciates it." The two teenagers leave, sedately and Andy closes the door behind them.

Andy returns upstairs to his son's room. Ephram is lying on his bed with his headphones on. His eyes are open and staring at the ceiling. The only light in the room comes from the hallway light. Andy steps in for a moment and puts a hand on Ephram's shoulder and winces when Ephram jerks away, startled. He sits up in panic. Recognizing his father, he pulls the headphones down for a moment.

"Ephram, I'm going to go get some food. I'll be right back, okay? Will you be alright or do you want to ride to town with me?" Andy asks, unsure about leaving his son home alone. He hopes this will help build the trust further between them.

Ephram gives him the "ok" sign with his fingers and even offers a small smile to reassure his dad.

Andy pats him on the back and leaves.

Ephram, alone again, closes the door, leaving it open a crack to show his father that he isn't going to lock him out. He just wants to enjoy the darkness now that he is away from the fluorescent brightness of the hospital. Ephram ignores his mother in the corner as much as possible, willing her to blend in with the shadows as he lies down again, replacing his headphones.

The Deftones, not his usual taste, are comforting to him now. Their loud, chaotic music is the only thing that has been able to drown out the sound of his mother's voice lately. She tends to talk quietly when other people are around, but when he is alone, she screams louder as the silence grows. He closes his eyes and tries to remember a time when he didn't hear his dead mother.

"You can't get away from me. I'm in your blood. I created you. I made you what you are, Ephram. You are failing me," His mother's shrill voice shatters the peace the screaming Deftones bring.

"Look at you. Almost dead, but you aren't even good enough to finish that…"

Ephram puts a hand on his head, massaging his temples against the building volume of her voice.

"I'm ashamed to even call you my child…" She says, her voice frustrated.

Ephram pulls his headphones off but he can still hear her. He replaces the headphones. He can't escape her. He closes his eyes again and tries to lose himself in the music. After several minutes, he can't stand the darkness anymore and he gets up. He goes downstairs to the kitchen to try and distract himself.

It's different from the hospital, being at home. In the hospital, he had to stay in control and not try to act 'crazy' in front of the nurses. There are no automatic responses here, no motions to go through, there's no act that he can play. Being back at home in his own environment, there is nothing to distract him from his mother. His dead mother that he can hear and see. He smiles, thinking about the absurdity of the situation. In New York, Ephram had friends that were on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medications for their own mental instability. He even dated a girl once that had been institutionalized for attempting suicide, but never did he think that he would be the one hearing voices.

Ephram opens the cabinet to get a glass for his soda. His shaking hand flinches and the glass shatters in his hand, shards slicing him.

His mother is silent; she disappears as soon as the pain from the glass reaches his brain. The pain made her stop. Ephram stares at his bleeding, trembling hand in horror. Pain stops his mother. It didn't work before, when he sliced his wrist with the mirror, but this time, she left. As his body adjusts to the pain, he can hear her whispering. He snaps out of his trance and goes to the sink. He realizes that his father is going to think he was trying to end it again. He runs water over his hand, clumsily using his bandaged hand to work the taps. Blood is on the floor and all across the counter.

Ephram manages to pull a few shards of glass from his hand and drop them in the sink. He wraps a dishtowel around his hand and squeezes it to try and slow the bleeding. When the blood stops soaking through, he clenches the towel tightly and uses paper towels to try and clean up the blood. He manages to get the counter reasonably clean and has a broom in his hand when his father arrives.

Andy doesn't react immediately to the sign of his blood-spattered son holding a broom with a bloody towel on his hand.

"I broke a glass," Ephram says quietly, his voice scratchy from the lack of use.

Andy's face flashes in relief at hearing his son speak. "You hurt your hand?" He puts down the groceries and take-out and goes to his son's side.

"Yeah. Glass," Ephram whispers. His father gently takes his hand and unwraps the towel to examine it.

"You like to make life difficult, don't you?" Andy teases, smiling to show his son that he is joking.

"I just wanted to have matching bandages," Ephram replies, feeling comforted that his father has not accused him of suicide yet.

"I'm sorry you hurt yourself, Ephram…"

Ephram isn't sure why he gets the urge to talk to his father, but the slight euphoria at the pain of cutting his hand has frightened him. "Dad, I still hear her. I still see her. When I broke the glass…it hurt and…she went away." He doesn't meet Andy's worried gaze. "I…I have to get better, right Dad? Am I going to get better?"

"Yes, Ephram. You will get better. It's just going to take some time. Let me bandage your hand for you," Andy says, quietly, still processing his son's confession.

"I didn't mean to, Dad. It was an accident…" Ephram says suddenly.

"I know. You're trying, Ephram, I see that," Andy replies, not wanting to say the wrong thing and undo the tenuous communication between them. "I know you want to get better and you will…"

"Really? You don't think I'm schizophrenic?" Ephram asks, suddenly. "Sorry…"

"You heard the doctors discuss that?" Andy gasps.

"I didn't feel like talking, I'm not deaf. I heard. Am I really that sick, Dad? Is it too late for me to get better?" Ephram shudders, his eyes glazing slightly as his control teeters toward panic. "I'm going to be locked up in a room and shot full of drugs like some kind of freak…"

"You're not a freak. You will get better, Ephram," Andy says, taking his son by the shoulders and shaking him gently. "Ephram?"

"Okay, Dad. Okay." His eyes flicker as he forces himself to get control of his emotions. His face returns to stone as his father watches.

"Who'd you learn that trick from? " Andy asks, not thinking.

"What?" Ephram asks.

"You just…turned it off. You were getting upset and then…nothing…" Andy explains, busying himself with Ephram's injured hand to try and reassure his son that he is trying not to push too hard.

"I don't know. It's…it's just something I've always been able to do…" Ephram replies, his voice barely audible.

"Hey, Ephram. It's going to be okay," Andy smiles.

"You don't know that…"

"Yes, I do. I see how hard you're trying to deal with this. You haven't given up and that means that there's still hope. You'll get through this," Andy insists.

"I'm going to try and believe you, Dad. I hope you're right. I'm tired…I'm so tired of feeling like this…" Ephram confesses.