The morning was different in that Hyungwon didn't seem to remember having said anything last night or having a panic attack at all. Wonho supposed that maybe it was because they happened so often that it had ceased to be abnormal, which was worrying in its own way.

The week passed in the same manner, with Wonho staying up late every night until he was either sure that Hyungwon was all right or that he knew Hyungwon needed help. He was tired all the time, but he knew it was nothing compared to how exhausted Hyungwon felt all the time.

The week rolled around slowly, night by night, until Sunday evaluations.

"How are things going?" Dr. Irving asked Wonho.

"Fine," Wonho said before realizing it sounded dismissive. "I mean, good, I guess."

Dr. Irving looked up, examining Wonho's face, and frowned. "What about sleep? Are you getting enough? You seem less well-rested than last week. Do you have any problems? Or is it harmful for your health for you to be in the same room as Hyungwon? We can arrange something else-"

"No, I'm fine with my room," Wonho said quickly. "And I'm all right, just stayed up too late recently. But...about Hyungwon..."

Dr. Irving sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Hoseok, I truly appreciate the care you've shown for him, but if you continue to let him rely on you this much, you'll just be handicapping his progress when you leave."

Wonho flinched. He'd been so wrapped up in helping his roommate that he'd forgotten about his imminent departure. "Right, well...uh, I..." He swallowed before remembering what he wanted to say. "Well, actually, I had an idea that would actually help with that. It was mainly to help Hyungwon in general but it could work for that too."

Dr. Irving tilted his head slightly before nodding for Wonho to go on.

"Well, you see..."

***

Sunday rolled into Monday into Tuesday and so on. Hyungwon seemed somewhat preoccupied throughout the week, like he was thinking hard about something but was unable to find the answer. Wonho supported him the only way he could, through their nightly workouts and through staying up later at night.

Thursday night, he had no problem staying up. He had too much to think about for once. The way Dr. Irving had explained it to him, he had to pass two psych evaluations (which he had) before his parents would be notified. Usually, the parents would come in during visiting hours to discuss with their child whether or not the child thought it would be best to stay in the program or if they wanted to leave immediately.

Wonho didn't even know if his mom would come. His dad had died when he was little, so he'd always been close with his mother, but she hadn't come to see him in his time here (Dr. Irving had informed her that it might place increased anxiety on Wonho, who likely wouldn't recognize her in his fugue state). And if she did come, what would she say? What would happen to Wonho?

What would happen to Hyungwon?

***

Friday morning came, although Wonho was unsure as to when he'd drifted off. Last night had been uneventful. No panic attacks. It had been just him and his thoughts.

He was jolted out of his thoughts once more as the door opened and a ward guard stepped in. "Chae Hyungwon," the guard announced, looking over at the boy in question, who just shook his head from his slumped-over position on his desk.

"I don't want to see them."

Wonho swallowed. "You should go, Hyungwon."

Hyungwon frowned at Wonho. "No. I don't want to. They stare at me like a bug in a cage. I don't want to play that game anymore."

"Please, Hyungwon," Wonho tried. "Just go one more time. You can say goodbye to them if you want. Just, go for today, okay?"

Hyungwon frowned once more before sitting up, his irritation clear. "Stop telling me what to do," he mumbled even as he stood and left the room.

Wonho sighed in relief. Now he just had to hope that Dr. Irving had gotten his suggestion approved.

***

Hyungwon took a seat in the familiar metal chair. He was mad at Wonho for making him come, he was mad at himself for doing it anyway, and he was mad at his parents. Why did they keep coming to see him if it was clear that they didn't care for him at all?

He kept his eyes on the ground as the door in the other room opened. He had half a mind to just walk out of the room, but he couldn't bring himself to. After a moment, he picked up the phone, still not looking up, and held it a few inches away from his ear. He figured that maybe he could have the satisfaction of slamming it back on the hook after his mother told him how disappointed she was in him.

But the voice on the other end was not his mother, and as he realized this, he jolted up, his eyes tracing upward across the glass until they met someone else's.

"Hey, Skeleton. You look like shit."