Standing in front of the fridge, Percy was frozen in place, with his fingertips just barely brushing the handle. His eyes were glassed over as he struggled to find himself again. Because before, he had orders to eat. To keep himself alive and well. Now there was no voice in his mind, reminding him to keep living. He twitched as he struggled to remember how to move, panic rising inside of him. What if he was stuck like this? Frozen in place until he keeled over and died on this kitchen floor.

He almost wished the spell was back and that thought alone was enough to make bile rise into his throat. He should be happy dammit! He should be able to get himself a goddamn carrot from the fridge! Small choked sounds, dull and muted to his ears, escaped his throat. An almost silent call for someone to help. To pull him back to himself.

A soft hand wrapped around his own shaking one. Thumb rubbing circles over his knuckles. Another hand rubbed his back.

"Breathe, darling," a calm voice pierced through the fog. "You're alright. Just take a deep breath now."

Slowly, Percy came back to himself, blinking owlishly. He glanced at his hand wrapped around the handle of the fridge, and the soft hand with red nails wrapped around his. He looked over to Audrey's big round eyes and relieved smile.

"Back with me?"

He nodded. Looking back to the fridge, he pulled it open and grabbed the carrot he'd wanted. Shame pooled in his gut and he avoided her gaze as he made it back to the pull-out bed, curling up against his pillow.

If Audrey was curious about his little breakdown, she didn't say anything. There was the sound of a can popping open as Audrey sat down beside him and turned the telly on; something that never failed to amaze Percy. He almost thought about how jealous his dad would be if he could see him now, but quickly pushed the memories down. He was getting better at not thinking about it.

"You ever see Beauty and the Beast?" She asked.

Percy shook his head.

"You'll love it."

She had been saying that about everything. Percy found she was usually right.

"You ready to do this?" She asked.

He shook his head, words catching in his throat, hands digging into his hair.

He didn't want to leave the house. It was safe here. Quiet. He wasn't expected to be a person here like he was outside. There were people out there who would see him. His skin crawled at the thought. What if they found him? They might find him and drag him back, away from this angel and he'd be locked back up in his own head.

"You need clothes," Audrey said firmly. "I doubt you want to wear mine forever."

The baggy pink hoodie and girls sweatpants might have once bothered him, and he could only imagine what his classmates would say if they could see him, but when it was only him and Audrey, he couldn't give it a second thought.

Sure, he wanted to say. Just don't make me go out there.

Instead, he nodded, swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to remember what it was like to be a Gryffindor, even if he couldn't quite make himself believe he ever was one in the first place.

"Good. There's a thrift shop in town. They usually have good stuff there. Why don't you go take a shower and we'll get going?"

Percy had never actually used a shower before. He almost panicked when the water rushed down on him like heavy rain, and tried not to cry out when the temperature went from Antarctica to the inside of a volcano in less than ten seconds. He eventually figured it out though, and wondered how long he could hide in there for.

His old clothes sat on the counter, freshly laundered and folded neatly. He stared at them for a long time, wanting nothing more than to burn them. He knew he was being ridiculous. That a black button-up should not make his skin crawl the way it did.

With a shaky breath, he got dressed, ignoring the way the clothes itched and seemed to suffocate him.

Purple bags hung under Percy's slightly bloodshot eyes. His cheeks were gaunt and his skin was a waxy pale. He looked like an escapee from St. Mungos. He gripped the counter tightly as memories crashed over him. Bare minimum contact with people. Just enough food not to starve. Sitting in a dark flat staring blankly at the wall until his body shut down.

He could hear Audrey knocking, asking if he was alright. He focused on her voice, letting her pull him back to himself. When she stood in the doorway, forehead creased with worry (for him. She worried for him), he gave her a small, slightly strained smile.

Audrey talked to her station wagon, introducing Percy to it like it was her child. A small flicker of amusement passed through Percy, as he was reminded of wizards who named their wands.

"Her name is Olga," Audrey told him.

The drive into London was about half an hour. Countryside rolled passed them. Audrey cracked the window and lit up a cigarette. She offered one to Percy. They smelled awful and he could only imagine the damage they would do to his lungs.

He took one, hissing when he burned his thumb on the lighter. The smoke set his throat on fire and seared his chest, yet the wave of dizziness that passed through Percy was as closed to relaxed as he'd felt in a very long time. So he coughed and hacked his way through his first smoke, enjoying the rush it gave him and the cathartic feeling it left him with.

"Come on, we're here."

Reluctantly, Percy followed Audrey into what she had called a 'thrift shop'. She led him down the aisles of clothes, stopping at the mens.

"So what size jeans are you?" She asked.

Percy just shrugged. Wizards had spells to measure themselves. They had clothes spelled to fit automatically. He had never really had a need to know his own size. For all he knew, muggles had a completely different system.

"Alright," Audrey said, undeterred. She scanned the racks, and pulls out several pairs of jeans. Shoving them into his arms, she pointed toward the changing room.

"Go try them on. Room's right there."

Everything was so strange. As Percy shrugged out of the black pants, and tried the scratchy muggle pants on, he wondered if muggles did this all the time. They must have, but it seemed like such a hassle to go through this every time you needed a new shirt.

One pair of black pants seemed to fit him alright. Baggy around the legs, but hugged his waist properly. He refused to look at himself in the mirror. Just changed back into his regular pants and carried the pile back to Audrey.

"These fit? Great." She grabbed a few more pairs in that size. "Now go try these on."

No matter how much Percy and always prided himself on his maturity, he would never, ever like clothes-shopping. By the time they were done, he was carrying three pairs of jeans, five short sleeved shirts, five long-sleeved shirts, three sweaters, and four pairs of shorts. On their way back to the front, Audrey also grabbed a package of socks and underwear.

Just as they were reaching the checkout, something caught Percy's eyes. Hanging on a display, was an old black wool coat. It was waist length, and had a nice collar, and he bit down on his lip for even thinking that it should be his. Audrey had already done enough for him. He had no right to ask her for anything. Besides, it was summer. He didn't need it anyway.

"You like it?" Audrey said with a bright smile.

Before he could say anything, she hurried to the display and plucked it off it's hanger. "We'll take this too."

The clerk gave them an odd look as Percy blushed pink. He felt so...spoiled. Growing up, he'd never even thought about asking his parents for something he didn't completely need. He watched as Audrey paid, watching as the tiny little telly read _. He tried to think if that was a lot in muggle money.

Next, Audrey dragged him to another shop. This time, for shoes. He stared at the shelves, completely lost and until Audrey picked out a pair of what she called 'chuck taylors'. "These will suit you great."

When he tried them on, he found himself agreeing. His old shoes went in the bin as they left.

They stopped at a small diner before heading home. Audrey ordered herself a burger. Percy was relieved to find just regular roast beef and didn't hesitate to point to it. Audrey pushed her root beer toward him as he sipped on his tea. The bubbles were awful and the drink stung slightly.

Keeping his head down, he picked at his food. The diner was loud, and he couldn't help but flinch every time there was a sudden loud noise. At one point, some poor waiter dropped his plate of dishes. Percy jumped slightly, his tea sloshing out of his mug. He clapped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to calm down.

"Everything alright?" Their waitress asked.

"Yeah," Audrey replied. "We'll just get the bill now please."

"It's alright," the waitress said. "It's on the house."

"Why?"

"Well we know it must be a struggle, taking care of someone with mental disabilities like that."

Percy could hear Audrey choke slightly. Then suddenly her hand was gripping his arm, pulling him to his feet. "Let's go Perce," she muttered, face red and eyes filled with anger.

Disabilities? Why would they think-oh. Shame rushed to Percy's cheeks as he glanced backward at their waitress, who's face was filled with embarrassment.

People thought he was crazy. They thought he was incapable of taking care of himself. They thought that they could talk about him right in front of him, because he was too stupid to understand what they were saying.

The ride home was silent, with Audrey's burning anger and her burning cigarette. "People are real arseholes," she said. "Just ignore them."

When they got home, Percy crawled into bed and stayed there for the rest of the day. Audrey grabbed her book and sat down beside him, her leg forming a comforting line of contact down his back.