Peak View's patients typically related their first month in residency to being the worst.

They would say that it was hard being accustomed to the new atmosphere, the wild eyes watching their backs like they had too many secrets to hide. Rumors passed easily, a shudder of gossip slipping through ears faster than in school. Eric found this to be the case when he arrived, taking as much as a seat within the cafeteria and noticing all of their cold, hard faces. He was only living there for about three weeks before he heard the things said about him, even from back with the encounter in group therapy. He didn't care about the opinions from anyone else but himself, and possibly the strange man who managed to tangle himself in the boy's life, uncalled for. Sharp eyes, an impenetrable wit, all traits that Eric thought only he could carry.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

"You seem to be hesitant this morning, Eric." That voice was snapping him back to their reality, where he was sitting in that same damn chair, in the same damn room bordered by shelves of books. Kyle was dressed in more casual attire, a v-neck shirt with those pockets that Eric absolutely couldn't stand but for some reason found it alluring on him, and a striped blazer. However, instead of trousers, there were jeans on the man. Jeans.

"Hesitant?" The word was almost shy, and he hated the lingering of his tone.

"Well, you've been there for almost twenty minutes and you've done nothing but stare off into space. But that's alright, being deep in thought is never a bad thing. I mean, that's mostly true, anyways." Kyle took a sip of his tea. He sighed as he broke away from the edge of his cup. "Mostly true in how it's you we're talking about."

"Got a lot on my mind." Eric pointed out. He realized that was an open prompt for continual discussion, but a part of him wanted to have the upper hand. He felt as though it was his right to leave the older man speechless.

"Nothing shameful about that. I can tell you are an expansive thinker." Kyle replied. Eric raised an eyebrow, not sure how to take that. He never thought about the kind of interpreter he was.

"What does that even mean?"

"You like to see the bigger picture. You're a visionary, Eric."

"I guess." Eric sighed, leaning back into his seat. His focus grabbed a hold of the picture hanging on the side of the wall, a dog riding a tricycle with a birthday hat on, vivid colors playing in the back. He found it almost ironic, a spontaneous image found in such a structured environment.

"Not a lot of people think that way, it's almost incredible, really." Kyle said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Eric caught the affirmative look in those eyes, green, lush with promise. He gulped.

"Visionary people are the ones who change the norm. They create their own standards for the way things should be done. They are the inventors." Kyle explained, Eric nodding to the sound of his voice, not too interested in the praise. He was too distracted by this man, this doctor that held no other degree to his well-being than his mentality, which was already loose and broken.

He glanced towards the palms of his hands.

Seeing the prints of red, he didn't squirm as he once did, he treated it like it was something of a birthmark. He twisted his right hand to see nothing drip, it only continued to stick. Imagining those same hands to be like crafters of God, stacking up buildings and designing roads, laying out the blueprint of any kind of a plan. Perhaps, when he left this place, this could be his calling: to change. Instead, he lowered his hands, looking towards Kyle and unsure how to feel about those sturdy eyes, judgmental with the best of interest. Or, at least, for now it would be best of interest. Eric wondered if Kyle could see the blood, if he knew this entire time and was waiting for him to confess. Confess, dammit, confess to everything you've ever done, and will do! Kyle was waiting to scream that, Eric was sure, so just go ahead and scream it, scream at me –

"Eric?" Kyle questioned, and Eric simply shook his head. The tan of his hands came back into the light, and he tore away his gaze.

"Why do you think I am that way? You've only known me for a few weeks, and you're already telling me I could this, or that. I'm asking why."

Kyle didn't say anything at first, the ticks of the clock louder than anything Eric had ever heard. He was worried if his ears would start bleeding, too. He could feel the itch just from the thought.

The psychiatrist stood up from his desk and started walking towards the side of the room. He flipped through a few books, until one caught his attention. Sliding it out of its position, he walked over towards Eric and passed it to him.

"I want to go ahead and let you borrow this novel. It's one of my favorite books, and I feel like you would really appreciate it, also."

Eric looked at the title of the book and scrunched his face. 'The Catcher in the Rye.'

"Isn't this some book they make you read in high school?" Eric flipped the book over and studied the contents of the back cover, the orange and cream illustrations melding together.

"Several people were able to identify with this novel, and it was very controversial when it was published. However, I feel like there are people who need to read it just because of the main protagonist. I feel like you would relate to him, Eric."

"What makes you so sure?"

Eric didn't enjoy reading. He found it bland and pointless, and he would rather have spent his time playing games or doing something outside. When he was younger, his grades would continually slip with English because he just did not like reading the material.

"I'm not sure. That's the fun of being curious, and finding out. Just give it a chance."

Eric glanced at and noticed Kyle was much closer, the closest he had been since one of their earlier interactions. Dimples and olive skin melded, aesthetically pleasure, scarlet curls and smooth skin.

Eric bit down on the side of his mouth and nodded, pretending to care.

"Now, why don't we get a little progress before the end of the session, hm?"

Kyle grinned, and Eric nodded, doing just about anything to continue the illusion of blind happiness.

Words carried on about Kenny McCormick were even worse, as Eric remembered. He thought of this as he and the blonde boy himself carried their way outside for the first time in a couple of days, joining some random lady for an afternoon yoga session. It was never in Eric's mind to volunteer, but Kenny insisted that he needed the break and to feel the Colorado air move through his bones again, or something cheesy like that.

"I'm surprised we haven't taken advantage of this sooner." Kenny said, laying his mat down. Eric looked at him, humored, as he did the same thing.

"We'll probably be the only two guys here." Eric said, and Kenny shrugged.

"All the better for me."

"Jesus." Eric chuckled. They stretched out their arms and legs as other people made their way for the class. There was some brunette lady who was obviously the instructor for the course, and Kenny gave off a grin in her direction.

"I'm not really sure if your special someone would appreciate you flirting with some random chick." Eric replied, as she led them into a Downward Dog. He leaned down and attempted touching his own mat, staring at his dangling stomach.

"Probably not, he can get quite possessive." Kenny replied. Eric thought he misheard that.

"…what?"

"My boyfriend gets quite possessive. If he knew I was making eyes towards Michelle, he'd probably blow a fuse."

Eric stood back up, straightening his back. "I didn't realize you were into guys, Kenny."

"Well, I'm technically into guys and girls, but I'm dating a guy right now." They situated themselves into the Upward Dog. Kenny was able to stretch his legs almost perfectly behind him, and Eric struggled getting into position. "I haven't really seen him for a while, though."

"This place not let you see visitors often?" Eric asked, and Kenny didn't say anything for a minute or so. There was a look of deep concentration on his face, as they shifted back into sitting positions.

"I wouldn't say that. It has just been a little weird since I came here. We talked less and less, and even though we're still dating, I just feel like me being here is affecting him. I wouldn't blame him."

Eric didn't say anything in response. He found it hard to acknowledge the emotions of others, especially when it was from someone whose voice, whose mannerisms were still so foreign to him. This boy who had randomly spoken to him, who showed him an instance of kindness.

A lot like him.

"But his best trait is his loyalty. He's waiting for me back at home, and when I get out of here…"

Kenny sighed. He glanced towards the muddled sky as Eric followed suit, glancing uncomfortably at the boy's shaking hands. He watched as Kenny reached into the pocket of his shorts, pulling out a piece of silver that gleamed.

"Shit."

"I know," Kenny replied, twisting the ring between his index finger and his thumb. "I meant to give it to him before I left but things got in the way and I may not see him for a long time."

Eric blinked, a sudden restlessness in his eyes. The subtlety of Kenny's words dangled in front of him, like a rope that Eric wanted to grasp and tug, pull so hard until the seams fell out and it snapped.

"Alright, time to raise up." The instructor Michelle called, motioning her body upwards and bringing her hands to her sides. Kenny followed, putting the ring back into his pocket as he leaned to the side, and as Eric mimicked.

Eric raised his hands towards the sky, but kept his eyes on the other boy, who didn't look back towards him, but to the horizon, in its apathetic glory.

Ms. Jackson continually annoyed Eric more since their first encounter.

He didn't need much to know this. Her eyes would flash across the circle, attempting to meet his gaze but failing almost every time, and averting back to the other goonies there. Eric wished she would quit looking at him, judging the ground that he walked on. It was hard enough to get through these sessions without falling asleep, now he had to invest himself in pretending to give a shit. He never wanted to give her the satisfaction that she was better than him, and it was something Eric would say he was good at.

Proving his superiority.

"In Florida, we would never have to wear this many layers of clothes. Keep that in mind if any of you want to get away for a break, or for some sun."

Eric kept the idea of her burning in the Floridian heat in his mind, and he smirked to himself.

"There's also Disney." Roger recalled, and Ms. Jackson smiled, clasping her hands.

"Of course! Just make sure you plan ahead to avoid the tourist traps."

Eric shuffled himself in his seat, glancing towards the clock. The two minutes that remained ticked so slowly, he was starting chew the inside of his mouth in the anticipation of running through that door.

"Alright everyone, before we head out, I wanted to remind everyone that Christmas is only in a couple of weeks. I think that for this weekend, just think about all of the things that you are thankful for, and when we meet again next week, we can talk about openly as a discussion. I think it would help us before the holidays to be able to discuss our favorite things about Christmas."

The therapist grinned, scanning the room. "You're free to go."

Eric was the first to go, making his way towards the door in almost a frenzy. He could feel the freedom from the hour of sitting on what seemed like nails.

"Ah, Eric, would you mind staying for a couple of minutes, please?"

Eric shut his eyes and internally groaned as the other boys made their way outside of the room. Kenny flashed him a small grin, and Eric never wanted to flip the blonde off more. He turned and slowly walked back towards Ms. Jackson.

She pulled some of her hair away from her shoulders and put her hands behind her back. He hated the grin that she wore, her lips thins as the sides of her mouth made indents into her skin. It was obvious she had plastic surgery, just from her face alone. Eric didn't want to think about the possibility of anywhere else.

"I just wanted to talk to you since I feel like the both of us got off on the wrong start. I don't want you to feel like you have to hold walls against me, Eric."

Her minty voice sounded like chalk in his ears.

"Why would you think that?" He asked, avoiding her gaze as he looked towards the floor.

"I know that being in this situation is hard for you. If I were seventeen years old in rehab, I would probably feel the same as you."

Eric felt himself ball his hands into fists, but loosened himself as soon as he suspected.

"I just want you to know that if you ever want someone to talk to, for anything, I will be here. Being openly communicative to someone can help you more than you think."

There was a brief silence. Eric flitted his eyes back towards her gaze, and could see through her eyes that dismissive undertone. He felt his insides knot up at the plastic emotions, her silicon eyes trying to break him apart.

"Which is why I think it would be of your best interest to spend more time with me with one-on-one sessions, so you and I can get down to these rampant emotions you feel."

The word was thrust into the air like a disease, and Eric didn't dare loosen himself.

He couldn't stop seeing a blur of reds and oranges, and a part of him just didn't know what he was going to do next.

"If you want to help me, you'll stop trying to get to me." Eric said, stepping in closer. "I don't need anyone's help, especially from the likes of an actress therapist who doesn't know one thing about me. So stop trying."

Eric turned away, trying to count to ten. He needed to get away, back to his room, where he could be with his coloring book, his Clyde Frog. He needed to stop being so angry, to calm down and not think about her.

Get out, now.

Get the hell out before you do something you'll regret.

"Eric, please wait-"

Ms. Jackson closed the distance and put a hand on his shoulder, before Eric turned around and pushed the arm off, gripping onto her wrist. She shook, her lips trembling and her eyes scattered. Eric could see it, the denial and the fright in trapped in those colors of blue and green, swirling.

God, it was just like her.

He hated how much it was like her.

"If you don't leave me alone," Eric whispered, "I may just kill you."

Ms. Jackson yanked the arm away and froze, that same petrified look. Eric said nothing else as he walked out of the room, remembering his bloodied hand on her wrist, red mixing with ivory.

"What are you doing, Eric?"

The boy did not register his friend calling for him, walking in his front yard and searching, He carried a microscope in his right hand, and he crouched in the dirt as he found what he was looking for: the biggest anthill. The eight year-old pushed the sweat out of his eyes as he positioned his weapon, finding a big ant. His friend came towards him crouched besides him.

"Eric?"

"Sh." The boy hissed as he started spot on the back of the ant started shrinking as the tiny flicker of smoke rose. His friend blinked incredulously towards him.

"Why are you doing that? You're hurting him!" He leaned forward and tried to stop Eric, but the bigger boy pushed him as he leaned further in.

"Butters, if you're going to keep being a pussy, then go home."

"But I don't want to go home. My mom is still mad at me and if she sees me…"

Butters grimaced as the deed was done, the ant lying dead on the ground. Eric was already looking for another victim, indifferent of his victory.

"Wasn't like that fella was asking for it." Butters muttered, and Eric shrugged.

"I'm bored."

"Then let's go play a game or something!"

Eric didn't do anything at first, his mind balancing the two options, before he stood up and brushed off his pants. "Sure."

Butters and Eric walked to Eric's front door, where the two of them walked in and kicked their shoes off. Butters looked into the living room and alleyway of the kitchen to find it eerily empty, while Eric slipped out of his coat and reached for his cat.

"Go ahead and set it up." Eric said, and Butters nodded.

"S-sure, Eric. Where's your mom at anywho?"

"Working." Eric said, petting as he sat on the couch. Butters said nothing else as it didn't prompt for further discussion. The two boys played Need for Speed, Eric beating Butters in every match because he was the only one who could play with the police car. Butters glanced towards the clock, seeing the time and shuddering.

"Do you think I could spend the night?"

"I guess." Eric replied, keeping his eyes on the TV. Butters smiled towards him as Eric won, once again.

"Thanks, Eric."

Eric walked into Kyle's office to see that Wendy was sitting at the redhead's normal desk, eating a large salad from a plastic bowl. He glanced around to see if was just her, and she met his gaze as she put a strawberry in her mouth.

"You're early."

"You're not Kyle." Eric countered, and Wendy shrugged.

"Fair enough."

Eric narrowed his eyes as she made his way to the other chair. He didn't keep his eyes away from whatever she was eating, the smell of ranch dressing filling the room. He only liked ranch if it was with fried chicken, not what he saw as rabbit food.

"Where is he?" He asked, and Wendy took a napkin and cleaned off her mouth.

"He's in his office at the other place he works at. Peak View isn't the only place he helps with."

"Oh." Eric said, knowing that already but not mentioning it. His nose lifted as she took another bite of her lunch.

"How can you eat that?"

"It's delicious." Wendy commented, smirking towards him. "You should try some."

"I think I'll pass. If it's anywhere near you, I'll probably catch something."

"Right." Wendy rolled her eyes.

Nothing was said between the two of them as Wendy flipped from eating her salad to writing something for what Eric was assuming was schoolwork. He watched her, the concentrated look in her eyes one that he had not seen from her before. It was almost intense, powerful enough for the boy to tap his foot and wish for a command. He said nothing, as she noticed his staring and looked back. They fought for the contact, and Wendy tilted her head.

"Hey, are you feeling alright?"

Eric opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed his mouth and nodded as his spit was caught in his throat.

"I think so."

Liane pressed the tube of lipstick to her bottom lip, covering the light pink skin with red radiance.

"Your friend Leopold has been spending a lot more time here than before." She commented as she slid into her black dress. Eric was sitting at the kitchen table, eating his dinner and trying not to stare as she got ready.

"His name is Butters." He said offhandedly, bringing his fork of spaghetti into his mouth. She glanced towards him and smiled.

"That's right, sweetie."

She pulled up the zipper and glanced at the mirror in the kitchen, twisting her head side to side as she put her earrings in.

"Do you think that he doesn't get along with his mom and dad?"

Eric didn't say anything. He didn't know what happened between the boy and his parents, but he didn't care enough to ask. Mr. Kitty looked up at the stove, eyeing the pasta and scratching the floor.

"Now, now, kitty, kitty. That isn't for you." Liane giggled, picking up the cat. She put the cat in the living room before grabbing her purse and keys. Eric picked up his fork and stabbed the meatballs that were on the side of the plate, entertained at how they split into halves.

Liane walked back into the kitchen and smiled, ruffling Eric's hair as she kissed his head.

"I won't be gone long." She said as she walked away and made her way towards the door. Eric watched as the cat jumped off the couch and followed Liane, in an attempt to go with her.

"No, you need to stay here and keep Eric company." She said, not paying attention as the cat started whining. She glanced towards Eric, her blue eyes to his back.

"I love you, sweetie."

Eric said nothing as the door closed, he only threw the plate into the dishwasher and made his way upstairs.

He had stared up at the ceiling for a good hour before he realized he couldn't sleep.

The boy sat up, tired but not enough to doze. He flipped the light on and found his slippers, yawning as he glanced towards the drawer next to his bed. The book that Kyle had given him was still there, after a week and half of not being touched, not being read. Eric groaned to himself as he caved, opening the drawer and pulling the novel out. He let his fingers linger on the paperback material before he flipped to the first page. He didn't understand why Kyle wanted him to read this so badly, and as Eric continued reading through the first chapter, he couldn't help but find it boring.

"What was I expecting?" He asked himself, closing the book after reading the chapter.

He was about to slide the book back into the drawer before he heard something outside of his room. He glanced at the door, where a shadow passed by, and a hustling noise was heard on the other side. Eric raised himself slowly out of bed and tried to listen through the crack of his door, but there was nothing but silence. Grabbing the flashlight out of another drawer, he made his way outside of the door, into the black hallway.

He hesitated walking. There was nothing but darkness, and the soft still of the hospital machines. He closed his bedroom door before he turned the light on, making his way in the direction that the shadow went.

Coming across rooms that were familiar to him, Eric walked slowly through his floor. It had been a while since the boy felt a sense of adrenaline, and a tinge of fear. He turned the corner and found a staircase that led downstairs, so he followed it.

Without expecting it, Eric spotted the noises to slowly become more obvious as he went down a level. He felt the shadow near him. It was close, Eric knew.

Then, Eric raised his light to see that the hallway looked never-ending. His eyes widened, his dream from weeks ago flooding back into his mind. He started walking towards the end of the hall, past closed doors, only hearing his slippers rub against the tile of the floor. The shadow was playing at the end, and Eric wanted to catch up with it. He started walking faster, and as the shadow started moving away, Eric started sprinting lightly.

He was almost there at the end of the hall before he felt something on the other side, grabbing onto his shirt. He hissed, frightened as he turned his body and flashed the light in someone's face. Eric's eyes widened as it was a nurse, with short, brown curly hair and glaring eyes.

"Son, what do you think you're doing at this time?"

Eric stuttered, not sure what to say.

"But, I saw…"

"You saw nothing, boy. I'm taking you back to your room, come with me."

"Do you not see it? It's right there!" Eric said, and the nurse towards where Eric pointed his flashlight and shook her head.

"It was probably a nightmare, son. Now, no more lingering, back to your room."

Eric was about to say something else but as the nurse walked besides him, he turned to find the shadow still there, flaunting him.

He didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

"Eric?"

The boy turned from the bed to see his friend on the floor, underneath one of Eric's blankets with only his head sticking out.

"What, Butters? I was almost..."

"I can't sleep." Butters confessed, playing with his thumbs. Eric stared at Butters for a second before sighing, reaching over on his side and finding Clyde Frog. He tossed the stuff animal towards Butters, who just looked at the toy, confused.

"What is this?"

"He helps me sleep, so just hold him, I guess."

Eric rolled over to the other side and closed his eyes, listening to the light snores Butters made as he eventually went to bed. He looked back at Butters and rolled his eyes before pulling his own blanket over his shoulder, sheep falling out of his head.

A/N: Thank you for reading!