DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sky High or any of its characters. I do not claim to know much about mental illnesses and certainly nothing about catatonia or schizophrenia. All of the craziness is gleaned from my own experiences and is, therefore, not totally bunk.
"It's the Commander." He growled the statement, dashing away the tears that streaked down his face with his hand. "If it weren't for him…" Warren trailed off, shaking his head. He looked up at Layla who really wasn't sure what to make of the situation at all.
"Layla, the job bussing tables, living like we're destitute in this tiny apartment… It's all because she needs the money for treatment." He was silent and stone-faced for a moment, not even looking at Layla but staring at the wall behind her. He used to love getting lost in her eyes but at the moment it hurt to let her in. It hurt to see her feeling sympathy for him.
"She's sick…?" Layla spoke in a soft voice, looking over at Warren with concern showing in her eyes.
"Yes." He stated simply with a nod, glancing back at her. Warren felt bad for burdening her with the knowledge. It would have been much easier if she was to go on believing that his mother, Pelefina, was a poised, retired super heroine - a statuesque beauty who'd loaned her dark features to her only son. He wished that he could live that lie as well, but life wasn't perfect. It was far from perfect, actually, and he knew all about that.
"Wh… What's the matter?" She asked the question hesitantly, her curiosity pushing her to inquire about something that seemed to be a sensitive subject.
"She's sick. She's been sick since Will's dad took my father away." He hugged his pillow close to him like a child might do with a teddy bear or a doll, hoping that hearing all of this wouldn't drive Layla away from him. The last thing he needed at this point was to be alone.
"I don't understand." Layla scrunched her eyebrows in confusion.
"They say…" He trailed off, staring at the floor. Layla didn't press him to continue, but soon he was speaking again. "All of the doctors who have seen her say that it was already there, lying dormant. The sickness, I mean, or at least a predisposition to being ill."
"To understand how horrible it was to see my father taken from us and put into such a terrible place… My mother loved my father with all of her heart." He sighed, taking a breath before continuing. "I mean, they were very much in love. She was the only one who really…" Warren stopped speaking shaking his head.
"Once he was put away, she became depressed. Really, truly depressed. She needed me to get her out of bed, to fix meals… She had no will to live. That's when they started." He looked down at the floor once more, trying to hold back even more tears. He was a stoic guy, never showing much emotion except for anger, but his mother's illness was breaking his heart.
"When what started?" Layla asked in a barely audible voice. She was afraid to press him for answers but she wanted so badly to be Warren's confidante and to be his shoulder to cry on. It may have been a bit selfish, but she only wanted to be the one who could make him feel better. She wanted him to be happy and she wanted to be his reason for happiness.
"Visions, bouts of paranoia, delusions that she believes are reality…" He rubbed his eyes once more, although it seemed that the tears had stopped.
"Oh," She gasped slightly, still trying to be a good girlfriend in a tough situation. Layla didn't know what to make of it. She had heard all about mental illness before this, but never to such an extreme degree. Magenta, her best friend at Sky High, suffered from Bipolar Personality Disorder away from the public gaze. All she had to do was go to talk therapy and take a few pills and she was right as rain or at least mentally stable. Warren's mother seemed to be a much worse case.
"Is she on medicine?" Layla wondered if it would be acceptable for her to take a seat closer to Warren, but decided to stay put in the corner until he had let the sorrow wash past him.
"Yes." He nodded. "Medicine and weekly electro-convulsive therapy." Layla's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as she stared in disbelief.
"You mean shock therapy!" Her mouth dropped open a bit. "What.. That's like torture, isn't it?"
"She's under anesthetic during the whole process… It doesn't hurt and it-- Why am I explaining this to you!" He raised his voice glaring at Layla with such anger in his eyes. She took that as her cue to stop asking questions.
Warren stood up, wobbling slightly on his feet as the fever had made him dizzy. He leaned with his back against the wall, looking at Layla and trying to summon the maturity to apologize for his minor outburst.
"It's not torture. It worked for a while. There was…" His gaze shifted to the floor. "Hope. Just a little bit, but it seemed like enough. I'm just afraid that she's going to wind up in a state hospital."
Tears were welling up in Warren's eyes once more just from the thought of his mother being locked up in some sterile white space with lights that are harsh and too bright having her medicine served to her by apathetic nurses' aides. She deserved better than that. Of course, people don't always get what they deserve. Warren had learned that lesson the hard way.
"Well, what good can they do if--" Warren shot her a glare that was meant to be one of threatening anger, cutting her off before she'd finished the question, but she could see past his tough façade. She could see the tears in his eyes. She didn't cut herself off mid-question just because he'd spooked her. She'd stopped speaking because he needed silence. His eyes were pleading for silence.
"She's been having delusional episodes more often. I don't know if I have the strength to watch over her. I'm just…" His voice faltered as he began to cry again. "Weak. I'm weak. The woman gave me life and I can't take care of her most basic needs."
"Oh, Warren…" Layla's voice was soft. She felt so helpless seeing Warren so sad and without hope. She wanted so badly to wrap her arms around him and provide solace from life's more difficult obstacles, but he didn't seem to want to be close to anyone. She couldn't imagine what he was feeling. Yes, they both had only one parent around and at first she thought that their situations were similar. After examining the details, though, she saw that they couldn't be more different. She had a bubbly, not to mention sane mother who was always there for her. Warren's mother was a ghost haunted by her own mind. She couldn't always take care of him but he always took care of her. It was a sad sort of role reversal and Warren shouldn't have experienced that, but life had thrown him one hell of a curve ball. It was his job to handle all that life had handed over to him, good or bad. Layla felt so fortunate to have a life that was easy in comparison to her boyfriend's.
"You're sick. You should rest." Her suggestion came out in a soft little voice as she was half-afraid that he would snap and shout or say something mean to her. Warren just nodded.
"I think I'll have that soup, now." He forced a half-smile onto his face, removing the plastic container of wedding soup from the brown paper bag. Warren held his hand over it for a few seconds, heating the contents so it wouldn't be tepid and disgusting. His powers could be really handy at times. He removed the lid and took a plastic spoon from the bag, slurping at the broth unenthusiastically. Even really delicious foods seemed blasé when one was consumed by a physical ailment. Layla smiled, though, glad that Warren had stopped crying and seemed to be calming down.
"Do you have soda? I always find that the bubbles are good for an upset stomach."
"Yeah, in the refrigerator. I could get it if--" Layla cut Warren off, standing up from her seat in the corner.
"No, no. You're sick. Make yourself comfortable and I'll take good care of you." Warren rolled his eyes, smirking just a little bit to show that he wasn't totally annoyed with Layla who had made making him feel better her mission in life.
Layla exited his room, humming some pop song to herself in an attempt to lift her own mood, and turned to enter the kitchen. She was jolted back into reality, though, as she rounded the corner and found herself face-to-face with Pelefina Peace.
"Oh!" She jumped a little, then laughing at her own skittishness. "Oh, Mrs. Peace, I'm sorry. You sort of…" She trailed off, noticing Pelefina looking at her with an odd sort of blank look in her eyes. She wasn't really sure of what to make of it. "You sort of scared me." She finished her sentence, wrinkling her eyebrows at the woman who stood before her, lacking any sort of emotion on her face.
"Mrs. Peace, is everything alright?" She tilted her head curiously, looking the woman in her eyes. Layla compared her expression to that of a zombie. It was as if she was dead. Beautiful and certainly not decomposing, but lacking any sort of soul or spirit that would have brought emotion to her face and life to her eyes. Layla knew that something was wrong and, although she hated to burden him any more than he already was, she knew that her only option was to go to Warren.
"Warren…?" Layla called out his name, her voice shaking just a little with worry. "Um, your mom is…"
Mom - That's all he needed to hear. He hopped to his feet just as he'd done when Mrs. Peace had called for him to look at the television. He hurried into the hallway to see his mother staring into space blankly.
"Mom…?" He took her gently by the shoulders shaking her just a little bit. "Mom!" Warren shouted, on the verge of panicking. He shook her harder, so very worried about what was happening. She'd seen, smelled, and heard things before that weren't there. She'd told Warren that they were being hunted by unseen forces when, in reality, they were safe. He had seen her illness manifest itself in many ways but nothing like this. Warren Peace would never admit it, but he was terrified for his mother.
The paramedic pushed the gurney Pelefina Peace laid on into the ambulance. Her face was still void of emotion and her eyes stared into empty space.
"We'll take her in for a psych evaluation." The paramedic stood before Warren and Layla with his hands on his hips. "It could be an epileptic seizure or maybe even…" He trailed off, causing both teens to worry even more.
"If you'd like, you could come to the hospital in the ambulance with your mother." He looked at Warren with sympathy in his eyes. "You, too, if he doesn't mind." He glanced over at Layla.
Warren took a pause and then nodded. "She'll come with me."
The paramedic nodded, holding the back door open so Warren and Layla could go with Mrs. Peace to the hospital and shut it once they'd taken their seats inside.
Everything seemed so surreal to Layla. How could life go from being so perfect to so scary? And to think that it was only the beginning…