Eep! sorry this took so long! t'is the month of exams, but i've finally finished schooool aw yeah.

One restless night later and it was morning. After their small argument last night, Skips had left for his own home, but they hadn't parted on bad terms, Benson thought. There was a silent agreement that Skips would do all he could to help out, even if it meant getting no sleep, he'd said. Benson argued that he was being ridiculous; that he wouldn't need to be there every waking moment of the day. It would be nice to know that he could call him if he needed something, though, and that was what they'd agreed on. Although Skips knew Benson was not one to readily ask for help so the older man had said he would pop in on occasion.

Benson didn't quite know how he felt about this new setup. It did feel nice to know someone would be there for him without being paid to be.

He got out of his bed and checked the time. It was one in the afternoon. By this time the park employees would have already started carrying out their daily duties, save Mordecai and Rigby. He just hoped they were staying out of trouble. He could deal with a few unraked leaves over another broken cart any day.

When he'd opened the blinds that morning, the sun still looked bleak to him. He sat down at his kitchen table and his food still didn't taste as good. His clothes still didn't feel as comfortable and when he attempted to smile in front of the mirror, he ended up looking like he'd just gotten a filling. But even though he knew all this was happening around him, he thought at least, for once he was ready to change it.

He remembered what Skips told him once. "If you feel like you're life is deadbeat, it's not too late to start over." He realized that, while yes, this was true, that didn't mean it was easy. Starting over was just as hard as beginning.

He made a face at his mirror, taking his glasses off to get a better look at his eyes. They were still pretty red and the circles under his eyes were starting to look as dark as Rigby's. He shuddered thinking about it. That was one of the last things he wanted.

He quickly pulled on his shoes after his daily routine, leaving the house in just a t-shirt. It was summer after all, and summer's were warm there.

"Benson!" a cheerful voice greeted him when he'd stepped outside.

"Oh, hey, Audrey," Benson said, trying to smile. He figured he probably just looked like he'd smelled something bad instead. He sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" she toned down her voice.

"I'm alright," he replied. He didn't really feel like talking to her at the moment, not that he didn't enjoy her company when he was happier.

"Ah," she nodded. "Well, it's good to see you out and about."

"Yeah... I thought I'd go for a walk."

"Oh, it's perfect weather for a walk," she smiled. "I hope you have a good one."

"Yeah, thanks. I'll see you later," he gave her a small wave and continued down the hallway. She was probably watching him, frowning and realizing that, no, he wasn't alright. But that was okay, he was working on it, wasn't he? After all, he'd made the conscious decision to allow Skips to check up on him; he was visiting a therapist. He was taking steps.

He took the stairs instead this time. Although he was thin, he didn't often work out and he drank too much coffee. His therapist told him that exercise is key to being healthy and that he should try to work in an hour or so a day.

"Physical exercise increases blood flow to the brain," she had said. "And blood delivers nutrients and oxygen." She spoke a lot more about how that may have been a large part of why exercise increases cognitive function, but Benson had zoned out about half way through.

When he was outside, he jogged over to the sidewalk and began his walk. The sun was shining brightly down on him and he'd almost wished he'd brought a hat, but it was too late to go back now. He continued along the sidewalk until he'd come dangerously close to the park. His curiosity was eating away at him, but he knew if he looked and saw something he didn't like, he'd just cause more pain for himself. He'd tried really hard, but he couldn't resist a peek from behind the fence. He didn't see much. The place looked rather clean, much to his surprise.

Nobody was around except Pops, who was once again, sketching some flowers. He let a sigh escape his lips until he heard an all too familiar voice. "Benson, what are you doing here?"

"Shit," he turned around to face Skips, who was carrying bags of groceries, probably to load the house.

"You're supposed to be relaxing away from this place," Skips said.

"I know," Benson mumbled. "I was curious."

"Curiosity isn't a valid excuse. If you saw something that made you angry, there's no telling what would happen."

"Hey!" Benson snapped, "Don't act like I'm some bratty little kid!"

"I'm not."

The redhead rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Alright, fine, I'm leaving."

"Wait," Skips stopped him.

"What?" he muttered.

"I'm going on lunch break. Let's eat together. Just let me put these groceries away."

"But-" Benson was about to protest until his stomach began growling. He guessed that half bowl of cereal he ate that morning wasn't enough. "...Alright."

Skips smiled momentarily, "I'll be right back." He then proceeded to walk toward the house and unload the groceries into the fridge and cupboards.

"Dude, Skips," he heard Mordecai behind him. "Is that Benson out there?" he was peering through the window.

"Yeah, it is Benson," Rigby added.

"So?" Skips said.

"What's he doing here?" Mordecai asked.

"We're about to go eat lunch."

"Yeah, but is he cool? Is he coming back?" Rigby was sitting on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth. "We kind of heard a bit of the story from Pops."

"Yeah..." Mordecai mumbled. "I think we probably forced it out of him with our constant asking. We weren't supposed to tell anyone we knew, but you probably already do, right?"

Skips sighed, rubbing his forehead. These two could be a bit too curious for their own good.

"I feel kind of bad," Rigby was frowning. Wait, Rigby was frowning and saying he felt bad? Skips thought he was imaging it. "I mean, we put him through a lot of shit by not doing anything we were supposed to."

"Yeah... I can't help but feel like maybe we're part of the cause," Mordecai said.

"Look, don't blame yourselves," Skips said. "He's just dealing with some stuff. It isn't your fault."

"Yeah, but... how can you be sure?" Rigby mumbled.

"I just am," Skips replied. "Don't dwell on it. Just do what you normally do, but maybe start to do your jobs better now. Alright?"

"Yeah alright," Rigby hopped off the counter.

"Could you tell him we're sorry, though?" Mordecai added before they left. "I guess that'd mean he knows we know, but I just kind of want to make sure the air is clear."

Skips nodded slowly, "I'll give him the message."