Perfect Insanities

Meeting

Devon looked over at the blue-haired boy before starting his car. The nurse had practically dumped the kid into his care before getting the hell out of their way. Out of the three of them, this kid seemed to be the most put together. He looked cynical and quiet, but nothing more than that. Then again, he was supposedly "ready for release", so he guessed the patients were expected to be relatively stable before they were let out.

"What's your name?" the man asked, shooting his new living mate a grin. "I'm Devon!" Before he had even spoken to the kid, he had felt like he had given a bad first impression. He had come right from work, and was still stuck in his coffee stained white shirt and baggy jeans. On the plus side, he had at least kept his hair looking decent, and he had remembered to brush his teeth in the morning.

Rather than responding, Julio stared at him like he was an idiot. For a while longer, he observed Devon's face, as if looking for whether or not the man honestly didn't know his name. When he decided that Devon was clueless, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his license.

"Julio Gonzalez?" Huh. Nice to meet you, kid," Devon replied, taking his eyes off of the younger man to focus on the road.

For a moment, Tomahawk was taken aback. Why didn't Devon pry at him for questions, or berate him for not speaking? He had to have been in the hospital for so long that those things became normal to him; the nurses always pushed for him to answer questions, or at least speak. Of course, they were irritating beyond belief, but the boy had forgotten that there were many people that would just leave him be, and didn't give a rat's ass if he talked or not. Tomahawk knew it was dangerous for him to be left alone with his thoughts, but he found Devon's carelessness comforting.

It wasn't until they got to Devon's home that the man decided to speak again. It was a small, two bedroom home that was messy but comfortable on the inside. The living room was a bit cramped, but Tomahawk didn't mind. For now, he had his sights set on the kitchen. He hadn't been able to eat much at breakfast or lunch from pure anxiety at the sudden change in his life.

"Are you hungry? I was thinking about getting takeout tonight, if that's fine with you," Devon said with a sheepish grin. He couldn't remember the last time he had cooked himself a meal, and he wasn't about to ruin this kid's first dinner out of the hospital. Thankfully, Tomahawk gave him a nod. "Is Chinese fine?" Another nod. "Okay, awesome."

One phone and approximately twenty minutes later, the two found themselves sitting at the kitchen table, silently eating an order of hot Chinese food.

"So, what did they lock you up for?" Devon asked in between mouthfuls of shrimp lo mein.

Tomahawk froze, and just stared at the man. He had no idea how to even begin answering that question. He blinked a few times, then hurriedly got up from the kitchen table to grab the folder the nurse had given Devon earlier. He wanted the words to come out, he really did, but they refused.

When he returned to the table, he expected Devon to be livid at him not only refusing to answer the question, but leaving the dinner table without any sort of permission. It was the same feeling of anxiety from before he had gotten admitted into the hospital all over again. His father would scream at him for being such a disrespectful brat, and everything would just snowball from there until it turned into an outright fiasco.

Instead, the man took the file, opened it up, and nodded slowly. "Interesting. I had a feeling I was going to be with you. Maybe it's because I talk so much, eh?" he said with a wide grin.

At this, Tomahawk couldn't help but crack a small smile as he sat back down.

"I'm going to tell you this straight up, though; you're going to have to talk eventually." Tomahawk blinked a few times, then nodded slowly. Damn, this guy was already getting on his case. "If you don't want to talk, I can't force it out of you. I can tell, you don't want to get better yet. So just let me know when you do, all right?" Devon said, trying his best to keep smiling at the boy. The kid's silence made him uncomfortable, but what could he do? He couldn't force Tomahawk to talk, especially if professionally trained nurses couldn't get him to speak for weeks at a time.