Although it had only been a few days since Angel had been admitted, to his mother Eleanor, already it seemed like far too long. As harrowing the last few months had been, already she missed her only son dearly... his absence from their home felt like an eternity.

Of course, no mother wanted their child to suffer like Angel was, to be ill to the point of hospitalizing them-- institutionalization, as horrible and unwieldy as the word was. Everything she'd read and been told assured her that it wasn't her or her husband's fault and that it was necessary that the teen received the help he required before he ended up hurting himself or others any further... but it was still hard. As strong as Eleanor tried to be in the face of it, it still hurt.

However, if nothing else, the success rate of this particular institution was said to be phenomenal - the highest in the nation. If she couldn't have faith in that, what hope was there?

As she waited, she still couldn't help but think that the orderlies and nurses seemed a bit gruffer than she remembered from the beginning, but she told herself that it had to be her imagination. In any case, the moment she was allowed to enter the room and saw Angel sitting there, looking tired and confused but well, all of that soon melted away. Putting on a warm smile for the boy, she approached him slowly, willfully loosening the grip on the purse slung over her should.

"Hey there," she said softly, as soon as she was near enough.