Gavin has forgotten his meds. He needs them; and badly. Or he did, before the incomprehensible tear in reality solved that--- and quite easily so. Damn, why didn't he do that before? He's never been better, at least physically speaking. Unless blasting out of both ends from fear in a foreign world is a physical rather than a mental ailment. Which I guess it would be, technically. Because although his mind may be free from its previous abuse of his Mother and the dull gray of life oh so depressing, but it can't prevent a battle axe or mace from crushing it like a watermelon. Or can it...? Well, from this point on, at least, he'll either come out of his shell, or be cooked in it. Author's Note: Halp I cant write good give me pointerz but only the good onez plz im petty that way also wtf are these tables how do i use them can they be colored uh oh prepare for angst and cringe god i hope not REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE Oh, and the cover is a royalty-free stock photo. Bite me. Give me a lil' nibble.