It certainly helped that they spent the majority of their time together, every day, and talked about everything they could think of. Whether it be hopes, dreams, fears, memories, jokes, games, serious things, just everything! It was really nice to have that with someone. His daughter was the only other person he spoke with in such a genuine manner. But he couldn't have a lot of conversations with his daughter. She was too young, too naïve .

He hadn't had a relationship where he could have those adult conversations with anyone since... his wife. "Maybe it's for the best that Cosette is taking over my brain." He finally stood, walking to the door. There wasn't anything to do in their rooms. In a psych ward, the patients had to be woken up early for breakfast. The doors opened all at the same time, and they stepped out into the hall. Everyone gathered for their meal, the splintering wooden tables beckoning many of the patients who were still very tired in the morning.

Cody got his oatmeal, unfortunately cold, and sat at his place at their table. He followed the others with his eyes, noticing the lack of life in so many of them. The nurses came by and passed out medicine, including some for Cosette.

"I'm not going to get dead-eyed and ruined in here. I won't. You, ma'am, are going to have to keep me accountable so I don't lose hope, got it?" He sipped his water. The female blinked at him, surprised. Then she laughed quietly behind her hand. He glanced at her, curious. Huh, she wasn't wearing her makeup today. She was still every bit as gorgeous. "What's so funny?" He set his water down. "Nothing. I'm just grateful to see someone who isn't insane here. I don't know how you got trapped down here, but thank goodness. I'm sorry to say that, because it's really selfish of me, but I'm glad you're here, even though you're not crazy. Maybe they'll let us go at the same time." She chuckled without ceasing.

He watched the woman, eating her oatmeal. Without much thought, he reached out, and placed his larger hand over hers. She stopped eating, glancing at him. He couldn't tell what she was feeling. She didn't seem upset, excited, embarrassed, or even confused. It was more like a dare, the look she gave him. Something that said 'And where are you going with that, sir?'

Carefully, he brought his hand back, taking hold of his spoon. He didn't look at her, just swallowed mouthfuls of the strange oatmeal. Together, they sat in silence, trying to enjoy their subpar meal. Two half-sane people in a psych ward in which neither of them belonged.

(Good morning! Or afternoon! Or evening! Or whenever-it-is! I hope you have a blessed and marvelous time and experience healing from all wounds and sufferings in your life. Bye bye!!)