I will admit that this isn't the best chapter I've written, but it had to be done, so I hope ya'll will enjoy it anyway. And thanks again for all the nice reviews. And I got a question about wether he actually was immortal or not.. Only time will tell, I can't say more than that. :)

"How are you feeling today?" Dr. Hannon smiled warmly at Simon, who studied his hands silently in the armchair.

"I'm.. I'm fine." He mumbled quietly. Fine as in extremely tired, because you haven't slept anything because of the nightmares. Fine as in hearing the patients on the floor above scream and cry at night. Fine as in being completely fucked bit his lip at the reply he gave himself in his mind, not daring to look up at the doctor. He wasn't a fan of doctors, they always scared him as a young boy.

"How on earth did you get these bruises, boy?" The doctor asked him, glancing up at him, as he was around his lower leg. The broken leg had been described as an accident when he tripped over a rock in the backgarden.

"He fell out of the apple tree." Simon's father muttered from the corner. The local doctor glanced at his father, and then back at Simon. He was pretty old, grey, short hair and harsh blue eyes. He looked serious, and bitter. It always scared the crap out of Simon when they looked like that.

"You really need to be more careful, son. Your dad can't drive you up here just because you're clumsy." Dr. Scott muttered, finishing up with the cast. Simon screamed inside. It was him! I promise it wasn't me. It was him! All I did was say that I didn't like the food. His father's face had been completely emotionally cold, as he battered his mum's rolling pin at least twice against Simon's lower leg. He swallowed hard, just nodding at the doctor, who messed with his hair.

"Well, boys will be boys, eh? Try and stand up and I will get you some crutches."

"Well, is there anything you'd like to talk about?" Dr. Hannon studied him, still smiling. Why were they always smiling? How could they possibly keep a warm smile on their faces, when there was so much evil and horror in the world, and they knew about it? He could never understand how they could keep smiling in this world. Like nothing ever happened. He just shook his head, glancing up at him briefly.

"No.. Nothing."

Simon walked down the corridor, anxiously chewing on his lower lip after that failed session with Dr. Hannon. He knew he had to open up at some point but it was just.. hard. He didn't want people to know, yet he did. All he'd ever wanted in his life was someone who cared. Not someone who claimed she loved him more than any man in the entire world, four laps around the world and back, and then still just let it happened infront of her eyes. Why couldn't he just tell them? He'd never done anything to hurt Margaret. Margaret was his father's little princess. Only Simon. Simon wasn't special. He didn't have blonde locks, and beautiful blue eyes like Margaret. He was just Simon, and his father wishes that Simon had never been born. He didn't even matter. The corridor had never before felt as long. It was like the shadows stalked him, and it felt darker than it used to.

"Psssst! Wierd kid...! BARRY!" A, now quite, familiar voice hissed from somewhere. He glanced around, wrinkling his nose, trying to figure out from where. "Oi! In here, you twat!" A door opened, and the light shone out on him, and the shadows seemed to run off in fear. The part of the corridor where he was standing once again turned brighter, and for a few seconds his heart didn't seem just as heavy. A familiar jungle of curls popped out within half a second, and Nathan grinned wide at him, singing at him to come closer. Simon bit down his lip, slowly walking closer.

"What?" He asked, slightly curious about what was behind the wooden door. The boy didn't answer, just gripped his arm, quickly pulling him inside. As soon as he was, Nathan closed thedoor without a sound.

"What is this? What do you want?" Maybe he turned out to be violent? A rapist? A cannibal? Simon's imagination took over, causing him to take a step back. The curly-haired lad gripped his arm again, stopping him from taking yet another step back.

"Watch out. Ther'es a bookcase right behind you. You don't want to make everything fall over and re-create us as pancakes, now do you?" Nathan gave him a brief smile, as he let go off his arm, glancing around. "This is one of the supply closets. Sadly one of the smaller ones, but I'm sure we'll manage."

"Manage...what?" This boy was beyond strange.

"Well, I did take a cake from the kitchen without getting caught just half an hour ago! But if you don't want to share it, then fine, weird kid. You know where the door is." Nathan rolled his eyes, as he sat down on the floor.

"I... sure..." Simon sat down as well, watching the other boy pull out a sponge cake from the lowest shelf of the bookcase behind him.

"I've got strawberry lemonade too, if you're into that."

"You really like strawberries..." Simon couldn't help but smirk.

"Reminds me of a fine summer day, so how can I not?" Nathan grinned smugly, handing him the bottle.

"Why... Why did you invite me in to eat it with you?" Simon said after awhile, glancing up at him. Yeah, invite him in as in pulling him inside without a warning!

"Hey! I might not like you or anything, but I'm not that much of a dickhead that I don't invite fellow nutjobs to eat a delicious sponge cake with me." Nathan shook his head, taking a large sip of the strawberry lemonade. "Besides, Jamie has never been a fan of sponge cakes. Or strawberry lemonade. He's a blueberry guy."

"Who's Jamie?" Simon wrinkled his nose, studying him.

"He's my brother." He had millions of questions, but he feared of asking too much. He glanced around, stopping to look at Nathan's wrists for awhile.

"Wha...What happened?" He stammered, almost afraid to know the answer.

"Oh y'know. One of the violent patients decided to dig his fingernails into my wrists. Hurt like a motherfucker. Started bleeding and everything." He rolled his eyes, shoving another piece of sponge cake into his mouth. Terrible, terrible lie. Simon could see right through it.

"Are you really immortal?"

"No of course I'm not, I just said it because I was bored." Nathan frowned. "Yes, I am."

"Is that why you're here?" Simon asked quietly, glancing up at him.

"You may be surprised, but when you tell people that you are immortal, they tend to think you're absolutely mental."

"Why don't you prove it to them then?" He titlted his head slightly, studying the other boy. His green eyes refuses eyecontact with Simon's blue eyes. He looked tired though, like he hadn't slept for ages, Simon knew how that felt, what it was like. He could easily see when others had the same problem. He wondered what Nathan could have nightmares about, what kept him up at night. Was he one of those who screamed and cried? Or was he one of those who silently stared into the darkness, about to explode inside?

"And how would I do that exactly?"

"Well... If you're immortal you won't age, right? So, if you never age then.." His love for this started to take over.

"Hardly, no. I haven't really figured this whole thing out, you see. There's always a chance I'll grow till I'm like 40 and old and then stop! Then it would take years to prove it to them. Boom, plan crushed." Nathan rolled his eyes, with a sigh. "What did you then, weird kid?"

"I... I tried to burn someone's house down." He mumbled, glancing around.

"You think fire is fun, eh?" Nathan's face had changed now, as he stared at Simon. He looked furious, and dangerous. There was something in his eyes that he just couldn't put his finger on what it was.

"I... No!" He stammered, now slightly creeped out.

"Could you please drop my sponge cake and get the hell out of the supply closet? I don't do conversations with firebugs. Plus, you look like a bloody panty-sniffer!"

Simon quickly got to his feet, rushing past Nathan, towards the door. He didn't stop until he was in his room again, didn't care about the nurses and patients staring and shouting after him as he came running by. Well, that went well.