A/N: Some of the inspiration for Michael's Characterization and events in this chapter comes from the novelization of the 1978 film by Curtis Richards

I actually got pretty excited about rewriting the introduction of Aaron haha

Chapter 6

Normal POV

It had been nearly a year since being committed to Smiths Grove when Michael had gone mostly silent. He refused to say a word during his sessions, to his nurses, to nearly anyone.

Despite that, Dr. Loomis would still swear to anyone that would listen that if Michael had so wanted to leave his room without an escort all he would have to do is ask an orderly for the keys, and they'd comply. But there was no evidence to this claim – despite some suspicions that he had somehow gotten out of his room more than once undetected by the nurses and orderlies on shift over the following three years– but no evidence to back the claim.

Instead, anyone who was perceived to slight Michael would have something horrible happen to them– but no indication that Michael was involved. From other patients turning off a show he was watching in the recreation room suddenly having a seizure, a nurse that he perceived to offend him somehow falling down the stairs– but Michael appearing to have never left his room when checked no matter how much she'd claim it must be him. Even an incident involving the power going out and another patient having an accident during a supervised Halloween party– the party being organized by Loomis as a trap to catch him in the act, Michael was nowhere near the incident.

But his suspicions remained.

It had been nearly five years, and the only shred of humanity he ever showed at all was toward Loomis's other patient, Lynn Brenson.

As much as he wanted to stop the scheduled time he'd orchestrated between the two, the girl would begin to regress almost immediately after- refusing to eat, meltdowns. If it had come down to behavior alone, he'd have had her releaes already. But the evaluations factored her development– while she excelled in schoolwork, socially the child would barely speak, and stress responses unmedicated led to outbursts or panic fits. Medicated she was much like Michael- silent, numb, staring - though it was indicated to be more of a response to the lethargy and other side effects- the girl being barely able to stay awake for half a day when the dosage was at its highest.

He resigned himself to keeping the two from being entirely seperated for the time being, trying to coax any humanity out of Michael at all was a victory, and the goal was to try and wein Lynn's medication dosage down enough for her to be functional while unmonitored and encourage any more social development…

Lynn POV

It was five years full of different group sessions, medications, and "new breakthrough techniques". Whatever those were... It had been five years to the day since my first days at Smith's Grove. Jokingly, Michael and I had begun calling it out 'anniversary', marking when we'd starting getting much closer than first grade classmates.

In all the time that had passed, not much had really changed for me anyways– the strange voices and impulses came and went now, Michael and I had been inseparable then and we were now, possibly even moreso; even if the doctors had tried keeping us seperated a few times. I was even still called 'small' by doctors and other patients and downright 'tiny' by Michael.

Michael had changed a lot, he'd stopped speaking in therapy sessions, stopped talking to other patients, and I'm pretty sure as far as the hospital staff thought, stopped talking altogether. He still spoke to me, though he wasn't long winded by any stretch.

Physically he towered over me, and his face started to thin out a bit– I'd started noticing it a lot more when my medicines weren't putting me in too much of a fog. He'd gotten pretty cute.

Boys in general had become…something worth noticing.

Then there was one day, Michael and I were sitting in the cafeteria, Michael glaring blankly at the table while I picked at a muffin. Someone else came and sat at out table. In five years of sitting at the same table, nobody had ever just…flopped right down near Michael, even the new patients were wary of him.

I could feel Michael's rage, even though he kept his face a blank slate. He didn't like him…it hadn't phased me, I wasn't sure he liked anyone. I turned to Michael and spoke just quiet enough so he wouldn't overhear…

"Be nice," I said. "Please?"

"Don't like him." he mumbled, barely audible.

"Do you like anyone?" I wrinkled my nose the tiniest but. His dark eyes softened slightly.

"You."

"...anyone else?" I urged.

He responded with a huff and I rolled my eyes. Then I pulled my lips into this pout-like expression that always made him laugh when we were alone to lighten him up.

"Please," I pushed. I saw that Michael had softened just beyond 'blank'. Good enough. The boy just stared at me, as I did him.

"Uh. Hi. Is there a problem?" he finally muttered grimly, when he looked up, his appearance; light brown hair and shiny grey eyes dazzled me. I could tell he was a few years older, by his face, I'd say maybe fourteen.

"Hi." I said breathlessly. "I'm Lynn, and this is Michael." I nudged Michael under the table a few times.

Michael blinked.

"I'm Aaron," he said moving closer to me, the corners of his mouth pulling up into an angelic smile. I blushed. I could hear Michael breathing, irritated.

"So what are you in for?" I joked.

"Promise you won't think any different of me if I tell you?" Aaron said, shifting in his seat. Well then. I didn't think he'd actually tell me.

"Okay" I raised an eyebrow. He took a deep sigh and began to talk again.

"They think I tried to kill my brother, but it was an accident, I swear! I didn't think he'd get hurt!" he said. I began to laugh. He shot an angry glance at me, but I kept on.

"Sure. I've heard worse" I laughed. Soon the anger in his eyes disappeared and was replaced by…something I wasn't sure of. I wasn't very good at reading people who weren't Michael without assuming the worst, but this was going well so I decided to try and let it.

Aaron stood up and turned towards me,

"I think I'm gonna go out to the courtyard while we have some time left, would you wanna come with me?" he asked, were those dimples? I felt a blush burn at my cheeks. Is this what it was like being eleven and…normal? I said yes almost immediately. Michael didn't move.

"You don't mind right– I'm not interrupting something am I?" Aaron asked.

Michael's only relation was a blank, deadpan stare without emotion, but I could feel the hatred radiating off of him. Aaron continued, "I mean you two aren't – a thing right?" he asked with– was that odd tone of hope? Or was I just making it up?

Michael's black eyes were hard to read, but then again, I wasn't really trying to…

Taking his silence as a no, he motioned toward me. "Shall we?" he offered me a hand, I blinked up at him, touching a stranger wasn't really something I was comfortable with, even a cute one.

We walked out into the small courtyard, and sat down up against a large tree, we sat there for a few minutes, just sitting in silence and enjoying each other's company, something I often did with Michael for hours, more than once after lights out when he'd managed to find a way to sneak across the hall into my room.

"You're really pretty," Aaron suddenly said, breaking the silence.

"Um. Thanks, you too?" Great job Lynn….

Aaron shifted. Before I could look to see what he was doing, he wrapped his arms around me, I felt butterflies in my stomach and my heartbeat speed up, that only happened with one other person I know—Michael. But this time it was too much. My heartbeat was in my ears, the air was suddenly too thick. The butterflies were too fast. I pulled away, picking at the grass to try and calm down. It was never so ..jarring when it was Michael.

Speak of the devil…he appeared at the window, giving me a soft look, and then his expression hardened as he glared at Aaron.

I guess either Dr. Loomis had noticed, or one of the orderlies had mentioned Aaron and me, because he mentioned something about me 'finding a new friend'.

–

Within a day, Michael was still…angrier than usual. I arrived at Dr. Loomis's office while his session with Michael was still going on, early from art therapy. I couldn't help but glance in the window, Michael had actually communicated!

Well. Via chalkboard. A single word scribbled across.

MINE.

–

I hoped it would be brought up during my session, like Loomis used to do- trying to pry information or thoughts about Michael from me since he stopped speaking– but it was only about how "well" I was doing socially and questions about why I was so tired all the time…

Useless.

–

When I was dismissed back to my room saw a small package on my bed and tore it open immediately. My brother, John, sent me another novel, Lord of the Flies. I decided to read it, but two chapters in and my energy was completely sapped, and I woke up to a face full of book and someone standing right over me. I jumped and almost screamed until I saw it was Michael.

"Jeez, you scared me!" I hissed. "What time is it?"

He put a finger to his lips and glanced over his shoulder. It must have been late, then.

"We need to talk." He said, voice slightly raspy.

"About what?" I asked although I already had a pretty good idea.

"Him."

"What about him?" I yawned. Michael sat down beside me, pulling me closer to him, hands gripping mine. Butterflies, but not the way-too-much feeling.

"You around him. I don't like it. He's…bad."

"Why is it such a big deal? Why are you all of a sudden so…emotional." I began bombarding him with serious questions, trying to hold back my anger.

He's taking you away from me. First the doctors tried to…now this… I don't like it," he said, there was so much sadness in his voice.

"Michael," I reached for him. This was the boy I wished he'd show to the doctors. The sweet boy under all the anger and the voices and the blank stare. The one who made me laugh and hushed me through the nightmares of my father when they came. Maybe then they'd let him out of here– "You knowow that will never, ever, happen. You're important to me, You know that. " His eyes lit up.

"So, you'll forget Aaron completely?!" he asked hopefully. The butterflies left, anger in their place.

"No!" I whispered angrily. "You're missing the whole point!"

"Well I thought you'd understand that friends protect each other. I'm telling you he's no good. I'll give you a choice; it's either me or him!"

What hurt more is that was the most he'd said in awhile.

"Friends don't give friends ultimatums," I squeaked, a lot different from what I expected what would happen. My chest suddenly felt tight as my voice broke mid-sentence and I could feel tears in my eyes, threatening to leak out at any second.

Michael sighed angrily and looked at me in dark fury, something he'd never done before. I felt myself shaking. He stood silent.

"No…you can't do that. Say something." I could only whisper.

"Guess...we're not friends anymore!" He snapped, getting up. His words were sharp. My stomach dropped, it felt like five years ago, when they took him away. The time I'd spent alone with father. Alone.

Normal POV

"Michael… don't do this, please!" She pleaded, reaching for him. She grabbed him by the sleeve. He stiffened, trying to just breathe.

No.

He couldn't lose control here.

But he was so angry! He flexed his hands seeing the tears in her eyes, threatening to spill over. No! That's not what he wanted.

He just wanted her to understand. He couldn't tamp down the anger though, he'd have to step away to make sure nothing bad happened. To ensure the burning and the voices didn't start up like they had with Judith. Or the boy that teased him. Or that nurse that had made him so angry.

"I need…to go." He breathed. His eyes steeled over to the deadpan. "Lynn...let go."

He saw the first tears make their way down her face.

No, no, no. He didn't like that. It made him tense…and unhappy. He didn't like seeing Lynn like this. He didn't like being why he was seeing her like this.

Michael shook his head slowly as he crossed the room; "Michael please!" He had to. He pulled the door open and slipped across the hall into his own room. He sat in the familiar chair in the center of the room and stared out the window like he did every night, trying to live in his head, not in the Smith's Grove walls, but unlike most nights he couldn't find that far-off place to stare.

He could hear her cry from across the hall.