I ordered the pizza and came back to check on Mikah. In just a few minutes he had filled the space next to the cot with little stick figure scenes using Damon’s oil based pastels. I knelt beside him and took a closer look. Whenever Mikah drew the alters he drew what they really looked like in Damon’s mind, at least from a child's perspective. He drew me and Damon hugging with big smiles on our faces. Next was Ana wearing an apron and holding a plate full of chocolate chip cookies. The last picture was rather gruesome for a child. A man that resembled Damon was lying down with blood gushing from his middle like Old Faithful and a dark figure with bright red eyes and sharp edges was clawing him apart. Behind the creature was a little boy with blond hair, most likely Mikah, cheering him on.

“What’s this?” I asked, pointing to the gory scene.

“That’s Bază,” he pointed with the red oil pastel in his hand, “and that’s Canaan. He scares me.” He curled into my side and shuddered.

I kissed him on the top of his head and squeezed his shoulder. “It’s okay, Mikey. I’ll protect you from the monster,” I said, thinking he was talking about Bază.

He left my embrace and smiled at me. “That’s all right. Bază already does.”

“Come on,” I stood up and held my hands out to help him up, “Let’s get you washed up and we’ll go to the playground.”

He got up with a spring in his step and a twinkle in his eye. On his way out of the room, he scooped up his new stuffed rabbit. I followed him to the bathroom and he sat his rabbit on top of the sink. His hands were like a bright chalky rainbow. I turned the faucet on and poured soap in his hands before he could get the residue anywhere. Feeling like a babysitter, I sat on the toilet seat and held his rabbit for him, waiting until he was done scrubbing his hands clean.

“Thanks for the bunny, Garret.” He said, water now dripping from his hands to the floor. “I didn’t get it dirty already, did I?”

“No,” I reassured him and handed him a towel before giving him his toy back. “And we would just wash it if you did.”

He grinned and ran down the hall, “Can we go now?” He shouted impatiently.

I found him in the foyer shoving his feet in Damon’s shoes. I threw my shoes and jacket on and held out Damon’s jacket for him since his clothes were still in the box.

Mikah groaned, “I don’t want to wear that crusty old coat.” He crossed his arms and stamped his foot, “Besides, I’m not even cold!”

“Don’t give me that attitude, Mikah. You put this on or we’re not going anywhere.” I said. I was hoping to spend my first night in our new place with Damon and frankly, I was not in the mood for babysitting a five-year-old. However, these transitions of his usually had to just run their course. At least Mikah was more tolerable than the others.

Mikah grumbled and let me help him shrug the big peacoat on then ran out the door. He stood in the hallway taking in his new surroundings. “This place is a lot bigger than our last one.” He said. It amazed me the photographic memory he had. I closed the door behind us and walked us to the elevator. I had to keep my hand pressed to the small of his back to keep his feet from following his wandering eyes. He wanted to knock on every door we passed and meet our new neighbors, but I steered him straight down the hall. Thankfully the lobby was empty at the time so we walked through the front double doors leading to the courtyard.

As soon as we got outside, Mikah ran to the playground next to the picnic pavilion, dropping his rabbit along the way. It came equipped with a jungle gym, a swing set, a fire pole, tunnel slide, a separate tall metal slide, and other odds and ends to keep children busy for hours. The playset’s heavy plastic framework was painted in various blues, greens, and yellows. Knowing he wouldn’t go too far without me, I picked up his bunny and took my time catching up to him. He was waiting at the top of the jungle gym.

He giggled and stood up at the center of the metal frame and shouted, “I’m the king of the world!” Then he slid down the scaffolding on the side and ran up the playset leading to the tunnel slide and waited for me.

I must have pushed him down the tunnel slide a dozen times and each time he’d scream on his way down like it was his first. By his last time to the bottom, the hairs in his ponytail had formed an afro of static cling. Just as quickly as he moved on from the jungle gym to the slide, he was ready for the swings.

“Push me, Gare-Bear!” He said, using his favorite nickname for me. I climbed off the slide from where I’d been pushing him and followed him to the swing set. His childlike innocence always made me smile, making me wish times were much simpler. But they weren’t. And as much as he acted like a five-year-old, he wasn’t. And as much as I didn’t mind acting like a big brother to Mikah, I’d much rather spend my evening with my best friend.

I pushed him as high as one could push a fully-grown man on a children’s swing. He screamed all the way up and giggled back down. Once when he was satisfied with his speed, I took the swing next to him. The whole time I watched him, he couldn’t look any more carefree and high spirited- completely different from how Damon carries himself.

“Do you think our new neighbors are nice?” he asked. Mikah was a very inquisitive boy with a hundred questions at the ready. He wanted to talk to everyone and could have anyone to do whatever he wanted. For some reason, I seemed to be the only one who could deny his demands and command him.

“I don’t know.” I could only imagine the spectacle between any of Damon’s alters and the other patients. Krieger Institute was a state-of-the-art home to a couple dozen patients seeking rehabilitation from a vast variety of mental illnesses. The building that I secured our room in held those on their way to remission whereas the neighboring apartments were where the doctors really wanted him- under strict surveillance and tests.

“Do they all have a roommate like I do?” he continued his questions.

He didn’t know I was his handler for his rehabilitation. Most of the patients were assigned a roommate with a similar illness. Through the arrangement I made with Dr. Reder, Damon will have no other roommate but me. The thought of him going to another person for help or even staying in the same room as he made me sick to my stomach.

I pulled the swing to a halt and answered over his shoulder. “No one could have a roommate like me, Mikah.”

“’Cause you’re all mine, right?” I resumed pushing him and he kicked his legs for momentum. Despite his childlike innocence, I could still hear that possessive tone all the alters carried.

“That’s right.” 

I saw the pizza delivery truck pull into the entrance gates, the neon logo floating above like a beacon. 

“Mikah, when is Damon coming back?” I asked him, although it was really a rhetorical question. Since the alters couldn’t care less about nor knew when their time was up, they would never have an answer for me.

He immediately stopped the swing, his feet digging into the mulch, and looked at me with those big green eyes that get me every time.

“Gare-Bear, don’t you like having me around?” He whined.

I repressed a sigh, shook a head and forced a smile. “Come on, let’s go eat.” I answered and headed to the front of the building to meet the delivery driver. Mikah jumped off his swing and beat me to the front door where the driver was waiting and had already started asking the man random questions. I pulled out my wallet and gave the driver some cash along with an extra tip for his trouble.

“Where do you get the pepperoni? Is it spicy? Did you remember the extra cheese?” Mikah’s questions continued before the young driver left. He looked like he was still in high school with his slight frame and acne matching the pizza. Mikah must have overwhelmed the kid by now.

I took Mikah’s hand with my free one, holding the pizza in my left. “Let’s go, Mikah.” I slid my key card through the security lock and pulled him through the front door and straight to the hall with the twin elevators before Mikah could notice the receptionist in the lobby. I gave him the pizza to occupy himself and he held the box close to him like it was a precious treasure.

We ended the night eating his pepperoni pizza with extra cheese on the suede sofa and watching The Lion King. I could only eat one slice, staying focused on hoping Damon would return, and Mikah ate three. Each cheesy bite he took he dragged the cheese as far as he could then lapped it into his mouth. Although I’ve seen the movie a dozen times by now and have watched it with Mikah on more than one occasion, he always acts like it was his first time. He sang along with Simba and his friends and cried when the powerful king of the jungle was trampled by the thundering wildebeests. When the two lions fought, Mikah cheered Simba on as if it were a wrestling match.

After the movie, I put the rest of the pizza in the fridge and cleaned up the living room and kitchen. Mikah was lying on the couch hugging his new favorite toy and loudly singing ‘Just Can’t Wait to be King!’ I finished up and rounded the sofa to sit on the coffee table facing him.

“Well, I think you'll have to wait a little longer. It’s time for Prince Mikah to go to bed.” I told him.

He pouted, trying to give me his best puppy-eyes.

“Listen. When you or any of the other alters are out, I want you to use the studio room as your bedroom. I’ll get some blankets and pillows for you and you can use your night light.” There have been times where Damon would be gone for days and I’d wake up to see Bază hovering over me or Ana with breakfast in bed, scrambled eggs cut into tiny bite-sized pieces.

“But Gare-Bear, I want to sleep with you!” Mikah’s big blue eyes seemed to get bigger and his lower lip quivered more. The idea of sleeping alone in a new place can be scary for a child, but unless Damon came back, I had no intention of sleeping with anyone else.

“I’ll tell you what,” I took his arms while he still held his rabbit and lifted him onto his feet. “If you have any nightmares, I’ll have my door wide open, okay?”

"Okay..." he lowered his head and he dragged his feet and walked into the spare room. Mikah went straight for his box and unpacked his night light. A tin star with hundreds of star-shaped holes cut into it that lit up the whole room with little dots.

I came back to the spare bedroom with a bed sheet, a light fleece blanket, and a large pillow for him. As I made quick work of making the bedspread for Mikah, he plugged his night light into the outlet under the window sill and tiny stars lit up the walls. He crawled into the bed, snuggled up with his rabbit and looked up at me as I tucked him in.

“What are you going to name your new friend there?” I asked him.

He pursed his lips and studied the rabbit thoughtfully then smiled back up at me. “Mr. Macy.”

I was taken aback by the unexpected name he gave plush doll. Macy was the nickname Canaan used on me. It still surprised me how conscious the alters were when one of them was out or even when it was just me and Damon. Yet Damon couldn’t remember a thing when he lost control. Damon had tried to describe the noise and constant headache he felt. There was always a nagging voice raring to gain control. For some reason though, Damon was unable to share co-consciousness like his alters could. Mikah’s knowledge of this nickname was more evidence that everything he and his detached friend did together would never go ignored.

“Goodnight, Mikey.” I told him and kissed him on the top of his head. Sleepily, he hugged my neck then dropped back to the pillow, his bright blue eyes darkening under heavy lids. How could this happy-go-lucky, innocent child be Damon? walked out of the room, flipped the light switch and left the door ajar with a last backward glance.

I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and prepare for bed. The man in the mirror looked exhausted, shadows beneath his eyes and worry lines beginning to form on his forehead, his dusky blonde hair a mess. 

I walked into our bedroom and took in the sight of the new surroundings. A king-sized bed lay on the far wall with night stands on both sides and an armoire sat next to the closet. I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling dreading a night alone, even though Damon was in the next room, or at least his body was. Nights like these without Damon made a large bed feel cold and lonely. As I held Damon's pillow close against me, I held just as tightly the knowledge he'd be back tomorrow morning.