Healing didn't come all at once.
It came in pieces. In moments. In color.
Alexander didn't realize it at first, but every time he sat with a pencil or brush in his hand, the noise quieted. His thoughts slowed. The pressure in his chest loosened, just enough to breathe.
The first thing he painted after the cougar attack was not claws or blood.
It was a girl laughing in sunlight.
The Studio
Claire Knight cleared out the small attic room and turned it into a studio just for him.
One wall became a chalkboard. Another a canvas. He covered the ceiling in paper—sketches of inventions, human anatomy, bird wings, musical notation.
He didn't show it to many people.
But Haley had a key.
Flashback – Haley Sees the Painting
It was a late Saturday.
She came in unannounced, holding a bag of gummy bears and a bottle of orange soda.
He didn't hear her at first—he was staring at a nearly-finished painting: a watercolor of a girl standing in the middle of a storm, eyes closed, arms out, hair flying like she was daring the wind to break her.
It was unmistakably Haley.
She walked up behind him.
"Is that me?"
He tensed. "Yes."
She looked at the figure again. "Why am I in a storm?"
He paused. "Because you never run from them."
She didn't speak for a long time. Then she gently bumped his shoulder.
"You're a freakin' poet, Alex."
"I'm not a poet."
"You are when you paint."
The Guitar
Music came next.
It started with an old acoustic guitar Thomas kept in the garage. Alexander picked it up one day out of curiosity. Within a week, he was playing scales by ear. Within a month, he was composing short melodies in odd time signatures no one else understood.
It wasn't perfect.
And that's why he liked it.
Flashback – First Song Played for the Family
It was after dinner.
The Dunphys were over. Haley and Luke were arguing about hot sauce. Claire was talking about college savings. Phil had just done a bad magic trick involving broccoli.
And Alexander sat on the porch, tuning the guitar.
Quietly, he began to play.
It was soft. Haunting. A little sad. But it moved like something alive — rising and falling like breath.
Everyone went quiet.
When he finished, no one spoke for a moment.
Then Luke shouted, "Yo, that sounded like Batman died!"
Everyone laughed.
But Haley? She just stared at him, heart full and eyes wide.
She didn't say anything.
She didn't have to.
Friendships and the Other Side of Genius
Middle school got easier, not because it got simpler, but because Alexander learned how to carry himself differently.
He wasn't trying to hide anymore. Just trying to connect.
He started tutoring kids who struggled in math. He built a website for the art department. He even helped Luke with a science fair project involving potatoes, wires, and a fire alarm they definitely weren't supposed to trigger.
Luke called him "Professor X."
Alex Dunphy called him "annoying but useful."
But Haley?
She still called him Alex.
And that meant the most.
Flashback – The Sculpture
One rainy afternoon, he stayed after school in the art room.
By the time Claire picked him up, he was covered in clay.
"What is it?" she asked.
He showed her the sculpture — a small bust of himself, but the eyes were replaced with mechanical gears. A vine wrapped around the neck like it was choking.
Claire said nothing.
Then she reached out and cupped his cheek.
"Is this how you feel?" she whispered.
"Sometimes," he said.
She kissed his forehead. "Then let's keep making things until it
That night, Alexander sat by the window, sketchbook in one hand, guitar across his lap.
He wasn't inventing.
He wasn't planning.
He was simply being.
There would be more ahead — more questions, more tests, more people who wanted something from him.
But for now, he had music.
He had paint.
He had friends.
He had Haley.
And for the first time in a long time…
That was enough.