Stockholm Syndrome

I had just finished another pointless therapy session with Dr. Martin. I didn't understand why I had to keep talking with her, seeing as I hadn't even touched another drug since I've been here; however, it was a rule. Yet another fucking rule.

"Damien, how are you?"

I looked over my shoulder to see Erik standing right behind me with an eerie smile on his face, as usual. He stared at me with wide, unblinking eyes and it sort of creeped me out.

"I'm fine," I said, brushing him off and taking a step forward.

"Damien, you still haven't collected that letter," he reminded. I stopped in my tracks and sighed; this was about the tenth time he's told me. "Would you like to get it now?"

"… Whatever," I grumbled, turning around and following him.

"You know, communication with family and friends is vital to recovery," he said with his unfaltering grin. "We like to encourage a sense of camaraderie and overall well being inside as well as outside of this facility when you return home."

"Yeah, home sweet home," I mumbled sarcastically.

"It is equally as important to regulate and stimulate your social skills back in the 'real world.' Mastering these skills will help you adjust upon your arrival. It really does help reduce the stress level…" Erik kept on babbling until we reached an office filled with papers and what I assumed to be other mail. "This is why it is important for you to accept this letter. I would highly recommend you respond, since you already rarely arrange phone calls and have never had a visit."

"Not my fault nobody wants to see me," I shrugged as he handed me the sealed envelope.

"It appears somebody might," he said as he gestured towards the letter.

"Uh, okay then… Thanks I guess," I said awkwardly before darting out of there. I don't know what it was about Erik, but I just didn't like the guy. I have developed a lot of tolerance for strange guys, I mean Landon would probably be the closest thing to a 'friend' that I have here; but Erik was plain weird.

I ripped open the envelope as I started walking back to my room. I took the letter out and unfolded it, struggling to straighten the paper out so I could read it. 'Dear Damien, I miss you,' it read. I looked up from the paper to realize I had reached my door and opened it.

Sawyer was sitting against the wall in his neatly made bed. He wasn't doing anything, not reading a book or a magazine or anything; he was just sitting there and staring off into space.

I gave him a slight nod and sat on my bed, opening up the letter again.
'Dear Damien, I miss you.'

Every day I keep –

"Hey Damien, you in there?" a voice hollered. I cleared my throat and stood up, walking towards the door to open it.

"Landon, what up?"

"Yo. Me and Han were going to get some lunch. I want to show him Big, Ugly Olga. You in?" he asked, smiling giddily with the emotionless-looking Han standing behind him.

"Um, I'm kind of in the middle of something," I said. Landon made a loud farting noise with his hands and pushed the door open.

"Fuck that dude, you're going to miss out. Let's go now, before we miss Olga!"

"Fine, fine, I'm coming," I grunted. I tossed the letter on my bed before following Landon and Han to the dining hall, closing the door quietly behind me.

-----------------

Landon had been sent into what the facility's version of 'solitary confinement' was; he was locked up in his room and not allowed to go out or socialize for two days. He had been streaking through the cafeteria yesterday, exposing his wiener and trying to shove it in Olga's face. Of course, he only found it even more hilarious when she didn't register what was happening and tried to grab it… Honestly, I have to say, I kind of felt embarrassed for her. Regardless, today was the last day he'd be in his room; until then, it would only be me – oh, and my new follower.

Sawyer has kept on my trail, especially when Landon wasn't around. He still didn't talk much, but he definitely has become more comfortable. I'd even gotten him to drink a little carton of juice every lunch period. Though it may seem like nothing, I'd say it's improvement.

We were currently sitting on the couch in a leisure room, which had now been decorated with various heart shaped cut-outs in pink and red. Oh, yeah… It was Valentine's Day tomorrow. How I was looking forward to that. The center even organized a little mixer sort of thing for tomorrow. Apparently, Dr. Martin thinks it would be a good idea for patients to take a load off for once and have a reason to celebrate that 'love' was yet another reason to be alive – or something like that.

I sighed and sank slightly into the couch. One arm was resting on the hand rest of the sofa, my legs were set comfortably, wide apart and my other arm – well, it was around Sawyer. I mean, it wasn't my intention of cuddling him; I didn't try to get him this close to me. It's just that my arm was previously resting on the back of the sofa and Sawyer saw that as an open invitation to snuggle into my armpit, really… My hand wasn't even around him, it was just sitting on his hip, that's all… This wasn't a snuggle.

As usual, he said nothing and just chewed on his nails. However, his big, shiny eyes continued to stare at me. Looking into those eyes, I found it hard to say no. It was like… If I did, I would break him somehow. Besides, what do I have to lose? This is the most intimacy I can find with anyone around here, considering tomorrow is the international day of love…

"So…" I mumbled as I drummed my fingers on the arm rest. "Hey, Sawyer, you mind if I ask you some questions? I'm tired of you acting like a statue."

He shifted from my embrace and looked up at me before nodding slightly.

"Okay… " I sat up and removed my arm from around him. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?" I asked. He shook his head.

"How about a boyfriend?" He paused and shook his head silently again. "Oh… So, you're a virgin, then?"

He stayed still for the longest time, his eyes getting that glazed over look again. I was beginning to think that he forgot the question or maybe he didn't even know what 'virgin' meant – until he slowly shook his head no for the third time.

"Not a virgin, huh?" I asked, looking him up and down. "Interesting…"

He recoiled away from me and slowly curled up on the other end of the couch. Oh, I guess I'd struck a nerve… But, looking at him, I couldn't see sex; I couldn't see vulgarity. All I saw was a scared, innocent boy. I don't even know if his frail little body could handle sex, even. Whether he's giving it or getting it, I could imagine him getting flattened like a pancake.

I continued to size him up and I realized that his eyes had grown wide and he was staring at me, visibly shaking somewhat.

"Hey," I said, reaching out to him. He shrunk back into the couch as soon as he saw me coming towards him. I paused and withdrew my hand. "Sawyer, you don't need to be afraid of me. I'm not going to hurt you, you know."

He stayed silent. I moved back into my seat, with my arm up on the arm rest.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize how personal those questions were," I said after a moment. "I was just trying to get to know you. But I won't ask you anything like that again."

His face softened for a minute. Gradually, he slithered back to his position and snuggled up to me. I stroked his hair – I'd discovered that this was one of the most effective ways of calming him down – and he seemed to relax.

"D-Damien," he said quietly, so quietly I wasn't even sure it was him.

"Huh? Did you say something?" I asked in surprise. He looked up at me and stared into my eyes. He was silent for a short period of time and I decided it was better not to rush him, seeing as he would probably infer it as a reason never to speak up again.

"I… Tomorrow… C-can you…" he spoke softly, like a little girl, and fumbled with his words. I pressed my lips together and bit back the urge to tell him to spit it out, already. That's something the old me would do.

"Can I what, Sawyer?"

"C-can you… Um, the d-dance tomorrow…"

"Yeah, what about it?" I scoffed.

"… Never mind," he quickly silenced himself.

"No!" I startled him. "I mean, no…" I said more gently. "Please, continue."

"C-could you… I mean, with me…" He stuttered and began chewing on his nails again.

"Oh…" I said, finally understanding where he was going. "You want me to take you – or something like that?"

He averted his eyes and shrank, chewing furiously at his nails before giving me a hint of a nod.

I chuckled, ruffling his hair lightly.

"I don't think it's that kind of party, Sawyer," I said and his shoulders immediately dropped. "But… I'd be happy to walk with you from our room and back?"

He looked me in the eyes and I could have sworn, I saw a little smile, even if it was for only a flash of a second.