[Vote/comment or I kill every character and bring back Ryan]

[Derek's Point Of View]

"I think about killing myself too often," I replied, feeling nervous about what the doctor was asking me. I had already explained to her that I never shared these thoughts with anyone. Not my--Leo, not my father, not my best friend -- no one. "And there's not even a valid excuse most of the time. I just think about it. Death is a magnet I can't pull away from. It's constantly tempting me, forcing me to wonder what if."

"What type of scenarios do you put yourself in?" she asked.

"Like ways of dying?" She nodded. "For some sick reason imagining being found dead in a pool of blood excites me. And it's not something I want to do, I just want to cause pain. I want . . . I want my father to find me dead. I want him to scream and cry and beg God to bring me back." I looked down at my hands and studied the lines. My hands used to be extremely rough from all construction work I'd done, but in recent months I hadn't done much so they felt soft again. "I guess that says a lot about me, doesn't it?"

"I'm not here to judge you, Derek. I'm here to help you."

"But don't you ever wonder about the people you try to help? Like no matter how much help a person gets, some can never go back to being normal?"

"There is no normal, there's only the majority. That doesn't mean they are better than the rest of the world. Sometimes the most normal people are the ones who are the most troubled."

I averted my eyes when I saw hers land on me sympathetically. I didn't want to feel like a hopeless child who didn't know what he was talking about. I understood the different perceptions on what normal was and I also understood how some didn't believe it to be a factual concept. But my truth was that there were people who walked the earth on two legs, and then there were people who flew.

"Answer me honestly, Derek. What would happen if we released you right now?" she asked, fixing her glasses and preparing her pen.

"I'd still be the same. Nothing has changed for me."

"Would you still hurt yourself?"

I swallowed quietly as my thoughts went wild and my eyes began to burn. "I want to say no, but I don't want to lie."

"Would you use again?"

"If my thoughts got bad enough, yes."

I hated the feeling in my chest as I submitted to these questions. I wasn't comfortable in my own skin. It felt hot and wrong. I wanted to be invisible. I wanted to rip out of my skin and not feel like my existence was wrong.

My hands started shaking and the doctor noticed. She got up and walked around the desk and kneeled next to me. She gently laid her hand on my arm.

"It's okay, Derek. Session is over. You don't have to speak about this anymore."

I didn't look at her. If I looked at her I wouldn't be able to stop myself from saying that it was their fault that I felt worse. This place made me feel trapped. And when I felt trapped, so were my emotions and my feelings. I was trapped with all of my thoughts and there was nowhere I could run to.

Something didn't feel right. I was sweating and feeling increasingly nervous. The more I thought about being trapped, the worse it got. I stumbled out of the chair and headed for the door.

As I opened the doors to step out of the doctor's office, I was blasted in the face with bright white lights. The change of warm brown colors to burning white made my heart pound loudly as my being found itself in unfamiliar and unsafe territory.

Realizing I could not run, I walked out of the office and started walking towards my room but I didn't make it. I pressed my back against the wall and let myself drop to the floor. My eyes closed and I shut off the white frozen wasteland that made my hands shake and my teeth chatter.

The question kept popping in my head.

Would you try to kill yourself again?

The worst part, besides being forced to remember the night it happened, was knowing exactly how it felt to die. I remembered everything. I remember losing consciousness and knowing I wasn't going to wake up again. I didn't want to remember but everyone kept forcing me to. I wanted to scream I was sorry. I wanted to scream as loud as I could and tell Leo that I didn't mean to hurt him. And I wanted to tell my dad that I was sorry for being such an asshole.

Would you try to kill yourself again?

Yeah . . . Yeah I would.

There was a slight relief in my chest. For so long I had denied things even to myself. I tried to pretend, lie and act like what was happening to me was nothing. But it hurt to keep it up. It was heavy on my shoulders and I needed the weight off.

But did it help? Absolutely not. I started panicking because I knew it wasn't a lie. I was that unhappy with my life that I didn't want to live it anymore. The proof had always been in front of me I just never opened my eyes. I emotionally abused the person I loved because I was jealous that his life seemed perfect. I was jealous that he was happier when he wasn't around me. I was angry because he wasn't miserable like me and it frustrated me even more because he had stayed with me all this time when he could have had anyone he wanted. Asking myself why became a habit and it just made things worse.

And then my dad . . . I hated him, but it was also an invalid emotion to have towards him. He lost the woman he loved because their two kids decided fucking each other was more important than anything else. Not once did we ever considered how they felt. My dad was definitely a bit ignorant but he had a vulnerable heart. And when that vulnerable heart broke, there was nothing that could have repaired it. Not a second time.

He tried to help me, support me, be there for me when things got dark in my life and instead of letting him in I started using drugs. I hated him because he loved me.

What was wrong with me? There was no explanation to why I was this way. I loved all of these people but I treated them wrong. I loved Leo, I loved my dad, I loved my sister, I loved my friends, and they loved me . . . Yet . . . I couldn't feel it. I could only feel darkness.

I opened my eyes as I felt a pair of hands grab mine. It was Sasha. He was in front of me on the floor, his eyes glistening and lips dirty with Cheeto dust.

"Think about Leo," he said.

I pulled my hands away and wiped the tears rolling down my cheeks. Sasha stubbornly grabbed my hands again.

"What are you doing?" I asked him, my brows pulling closer together in confusion.

"Think about Leo and your favorite place," he said, leaning closer to our hands and closing his eyes. "I get panic attacks all the time. Thinking about my favorite thing in the world helps me calm down."

"I'm-I'm not having a panic attack."

"I'm not a nurse, you don't have to lie to me."

"I'm no-"

"-think of leo."

"How do you know about him?" I asked, trying to pull my hands back but he was a lot stronger than he looked.

"I listen to the walls."

"You've been listening to my conversations with the doctor?"

"If you think about Leo, it will help your panic attack."

"I'M NOT HAVING A PANIC ATTACK!" I yelled at him.

Sasha gasped and his eyes snapped open. He let go of my hands and looked scared of me. His big eyes scanned my face in pure terror as they filled with tears. I opened my mouth to apologize, not meaning to scream at him, but he jumped up on his feet and ran away before I could say a word.

There were nurses down the hall watching and it took every strength to not be an asshole. Sighing, I got up and chased after him. He went into our room, but before I went in I thought about maybe leaving him alone. If he was anything like me I just wanted to be alone, but he wasn't me, he was another human being that I just upset.

I went in and found him on the floor next to his bed. He was crying hard while feeding his mouth Cheetos. How he didn't run out of Cheetos was a mystery to me. I walked towards him and sat across from him, my back against the wall with the only tiny barred window.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you," I said.

He was laying on his side, facing my direction but avoiding me completely. He now turned to grabbing Cheetos off the floor with his lips instead of using his hands. It was wrong to think it, but his eyes were pretty when he cried. Now I understood why Leo said that to me. But I wasn't going to say that outloud.

"Everyone's so mean to me," he said.

"I'm sorry, Sasha. I promise I'm not mean, I was just . . . I was going through a moment and I took it out on you," I said truthfully.

"It looked like you were having a panic attack. I don't usually touch people but I really wanted to help you," he said, still picking up Cheetos with his lips and crunching on them.

"I get really bad anxiety sometimes and my mind doesn't shut up once it starts. And this place isn't helping my situation, if I'm being honest," I explained to him.

"Anxiety attack," he whispered, picking more orange snacks.

"You probably shouldn't eat that off the floor," I suggested.

Sasha grabbed the bag and sat up. He decided the floor wasn't comfortable enough so he climbed his bed, slid inside the sheets and cuddled the bag while he ate some more. How did he look so fit only eating Cheetos? Was that a diet I should be looking into?

"Do you regret coming here?" he asked, his eyes not once landing on me.

"Yes, but only because of how uncomfortable I feel. I think on the long run it might have been worth it but for now I just need to find a way to be comfortable. You?"

"I didn't get a choice," he said sadly. "My family doesn't like me."

"Why do you say that?"

"They lied and said I was violent and called the police. They took me here instead of jail because they told the police I'm retarded."

"They really said that?"

"They call me a lot of mean words: Retarded, autistic, dumb, slow, faggot. They say I shouldn't have been born and that they should have left me in a dumpster but they didn't know I was going to turn out so weird."

I was so shocked at what I was hearing that I couldn't form a proper response. Who in their right minds would do that to their own child? They should be the ones in here, not Sasha. How can they get away with doing something like that?

"That's really awful and sad that you have to go through that. You deserve better, Sasha. And you are not weird or any of those things. You are really cool and I like you."

"Thanks, I know," he muttered and sighed. "I'm gonna be released soon. They're just looking for a homeless shelter to put me in."

"Homeless shelter?"

"My parents don't want me back and I'm an adult, so."

This conversation was making me forget about all my issues and focus on his. It made me so angry how someone could treat their own like this. Sasha seemed like a very kind person who didn't deserve this. But when did most of us get what we deserved? Seemed like most of the type we got what we didn't deserve.

A nurse appeared, knocking on our open door to get our attention.

"Derek, you have visitors. Sasha, Dr. Vestine would like to see you," he said.

As we got up, I grabbed his shoulder and gave it a quick reassuring squeeze. He flinched and I retrieve my hand, still wondering why he never looked anyone in the eyes, except for earlier when he was trying to calm me down and looked dead into mine.

Sasha and I split up at the end of the hallway outside our room. He went into Vestine's office and the nurse guided me the opposite direction. I was nervous. But there was only one person who could be visiting me.

"Leo," I sighed happily as I walked into the visitor's lounge, totally ignoring that Nicole was also with him, but after almost (maybe) having a panic attack in front of everyone I only cared about seeing him.

"Surprise!" He jumped up and Nicole did as well, only her jump was delayed like she had no rhythm.

"We tried to bring a cake to surprise you with but they didn't let us, so Leo's cake is good enough," Nicole said.

Leo hugged me tightly and I closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around him and inhaling the scent of my shampoo in his hair. It had only been a week since I last seen him but it felt like an eternity in here. It also didn't help that I kept reminding myself over and over that I broke up with him and spent two weeks being single and then realizing I regretted doing it in the first place. But here we were, hugging, and totally not a friend hug.

"Happy birthday, old man" Leo said as he pulled back.

"It's not till Wednesday," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but I can only see you on the weekends," he said.

Nicole pushed Leo aside and opened her arms wide. I first noticed her super long sharp black nails before I noticed anything else. She gave me a very sensual hug and pinched my butt. We sat down on an empty couch away from the front doors after hugging session was over.

"When are you getting out?" Nicole asked.

"I don't know when I'm getting out."

"Do you think if I ask the nurses if I can use the bathroom that I can sneak around and be nosey?" Nicole asked, watching the door. "I just wanna see the place."

"Maybe, I don't know," I told her.

"Be right back," she said, getting up and leaving me and Leo alone.

"She doesn't actually care," Leo said when she was gone. He was playing with the fuzzy fabric of the couch as if he was nervous. "She just wants us to be alone."

"Figured."

"How are you doing? How are you really doing?"

I pressed my lips together in a not very reassuring smile. "I . . . feel anxious, a lot. But other than that, it's okay. Not what I expected."

"Do you want to leave?"

"Yeah."

"They aren't going to let you are they?"

"Not unless they see some improvement. I just don't understand how I can improve in a place like this but I had no other choice. It's what I need so I just have to get used to it."

He bounced towards me till our legs were pressing together. He playfully punched my thigh and smiled at me. I only returned an awkward smile.

"So what do you do for fun here?" Leo asked.

I shrugged, unsure of what kind of answer to give him. "There's a lot of activities that we do. There's reading, painting, gardening or you can just watch TV if you don't want to do anything. But if you don't participate in activities they deduct points from your overall progress and it just sets you back more because they think you don't want to get better."

"Have you been doing them?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to talk about this."

"What do you want to talk about?" he wondered, losing his smile.

"Us."

"Derek . . . I already told y–"

"–No, I can't . . . I can't do that," I said as I shifted uncomfortably. "I–I want you to know that I respect you and what you want, but I keep thinking about what you said and it's just making me feel worse. I know I hurt you and I broke up with you and you're too nice to yell at me and tell me off, I know you understand why I did it but I'm telling you it was a mistake, I regret it, I shouldn't have done it and I don't want us to break up. So please . . . while you're here, in front of me, tell me what you want or it's gonna make me crazy wondering."

He sighed and looked down at his hands. "I'm here for a reason, Derek."

"That doesn't answer anything."

He crossed his arms over his chest and looked up, but not at me. "I don't want to break up either, but if things are just going to go back to the way they were then I don't think we should get back together." And then he looked at me.

"That . . . That still doesn't answer anything."

"Oh. My. Gaga."

"I know what you mean, but that's something that we both know already. It's common sense. No one wants to be in a relationship that only goes downhill. I understand it's not healthy."

"Then what are you trying to ask me?"

"I don't know anymore," I sighed, slouching down on the couch and letting my head fall back. "I guess some reassurance."

"Am I giving you anxiety?"

"Yes," I muttered.

"Derek . . . Kiss me."

I looked at him confused, but he wasn't kidding. I wasn't afraid of kissing him, but I was completely taken back. Was it a test? Was it supposed to answer my question? Because it wasn't okay to mess with my feelings and it wasn't an answer.

He was looking at me with an eyebrow raised, waiting.

As I gave in and leaned closer to him, so did he. We met up together and locked our lips. Did I miss the his soft lips against mine? Oh yeah. But I missed it more when he never gave me full control. He always fought back against the kiss and never wanted to just take it.

"Yeah, I was wondering if that was Leo or not," I heard Sasha's voice say.

Leo and I pulled apart as Sasha sat across from us on the single armchair. He didn't look at us, only the floor, but he tapped his hands rapidly against the armrest.

"Were you eavesdropping?" I asked.

"Ah . . ." Leo said, almost in a comical way. "You're Sasha. I can tell because you're seriously good looking and it's threatening me right now."

"Er . . . Thank you, I'm not gay, please stop hitting on me. Oh no. I can't breathe. Don't look at me please," he said as he shut his eyes and took a Cheeto out of his pocket. "Every time I feel the crunch I imagine it's our planet and I'm just eating it."

"I like Hot Cheetos," Leo said.

Sasha opened his eyes and stopped eating the Cheeto in his mouth. He got up and walked away and as he exited the door he quietly said, "Don't talk to me."

"That's . . . my roommate. I like him," I said.

"He probably doesn't like me now. And how does he know me? Have you been talking about me?" He wiggled a finger teasingly.

"Um . . . no, he's just nosey and listens to my sessions. I don't know how but I'm not gonna snitch on him."

"We're not over, okay, Derek? I told you over the phone that you are mine."

"I just . . . I need to hear you say it."

He looked at me sadly and I hated it. I didn't want to feel like I was broken or that I couldn't live my life without some type of reassurance. But I needed it or it was going to eat at me.

"Derek, I love you. We're not over. I'm taking you back. We're together."

All the nervous bad feelings in my stomach vanished just like that. I hated how much power a person had over me, but honestly it was Leo so I didn't care. He was my other half. He owned my heart and I couldn't have asked for a better person to have it.

It was incredible not to have the doubts anymore. I truly had problems and it was impossible to pretend they didn't mess my life up.

I grabbed his hand and pulled it up to my lips and planted a kiss.

"I'm sorry, Leo. About everything."

His eyes started glistening. "I know. I forgive you. Don't make me cry or I'm gonna punch you."

"I mean it, I want to be a better boyfriend to you, and I'm gonna be."

"Just . . . focus on getting better for yourself first, then the rest can come after."

"I love you, boyfriend."

He rolled his eyes, smiling. "I love you, boyfriend."

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[Author's Message]: I apologize for the long wait. I was still having problems writing these 'mental hospital' chapters. I was going to write more but I don't think I can do that. Originally it was going to be a lot more but for the sake of MY mental health, I'm not gonna do that. I can't keep forcing myself to revisit these situations so I'm skipping an entire month of a timeline. Not yet though, next chapter is still around the same time line only in Leo's point of view, and then Derek's next chapter will be a month later. I hope you guys understand why I took so long and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. TYSM <3 Don't forget to shower me in lovely comments