"You have time to change your mind," Dahlia said, zipping Roy's suitcase. She insisted she help him pack, but more the less completely packed for him. Her motherly side was showing again. It made Roy rather uncomfortable.

She had also insisted sleeping on top of Roy. He slept on the couch and she lay on his chest. She fell asleep to the slow rise of his chest, with each beat of his heart. Roy was awake nearly all night, watching her sleep. She didn't move once and neither did he. They lay there still, stone statues of lovers. Roy could've laid there for much, much longer.

"I'm not changing my mind," Roy said.

Dahlia's makeup was smeared and her dress wrinkled. The car was already running and her hands were shaking.

Roy shook his father's hand and he nodded. His mother embraced him tightly, and she tried to hold in her cry.

"I'm not saying goodbye because I'll see you again."

"Yes, yes you will," Roy's mother smiled, wiping her tears.

"Bye, son," Pop said.

Roy closed the door behind he and Dahlia. He sighed heavily. He transferred into the passenger seat, still unsatisfied. His brother was nowhere to be seen.

Dahlia was just about to pull out of the driveway when there was a knock on the passenger window.

Roy rolled it down and Whit smiled at him.

"Safe trip," he said.

"Thank...you..." Roy replied.

Whit banged the hood of the car as if to say go ahead. He walked back to the tractor he presumably was working on.

Dahlia smiled faintly. "Your brother doesn't hate you."

"I guess not," Roy said.

Dade was waiting on the front porch and ran up to the car.

"Just stay here, don't get out I don't want you to miss the train." He handed Roy a slip of paper. "Call me when you get home, okay?"

"I will do that."

Dade leaned inside the car window to embrace Roy.

"I love you, man."

"Same," Roy said.

Dahlia was silent on the way to the train station. She had her hand on Roy's the whole time. She kept her eyes on the road ahead, not once glancing at Roy. The car jerked into a parking space. She didn't realize how fast she was going, Roy presumed. She quickly got his wheelchair from the back and put his suitcase next to him.

"May I walk you there?" She asked.

"If you'd like."

"I would."

Roy's old but new life awaited him on that train. Oklahoma was dying and California was in bloom.

"C-come here," Dahlia chuckled, putting Roy's feet to the ground.

"We're really doing this here..."

"Please," she grasped Roy around the hips and he was standing. He desperately pleaded to himself that his knees would continue to lock as he embraced her and she put her arms around his waist. "That's all I wanted. That's all."

"That's all, huh?" Roy took in the sweet smell of her hair. He tried to concentrate, terrified he'd fall in front of strangers.

"That's all," she said. She lowered Roy back down into his chair and unclipped the flower in her hair. "A piece of me." She placed it in Roy's hands.

"Thank you," he said.

"Don't forget."

"I won't."

She kissed him hard and he kissed back.

Roy realized as he sat on that train, and on the next train halfway to California, that in nineteen hours and thirteen minutes, he'd be back in an environment he suddenly grew to hate nearly in one night. He didn't have a job, he didn't really have friends, and he wasn't even sure if the one person he needed to see the most was willing to take him back into her life. It petrified him. But he couldn't change his mind now. And he already said goodbyes.

He had fallen asleep on the second train. He hadn't realized it until an overweight conductor was practically shoving his wheelchair in his face grumbling that his stop was up. Roy thanked her politely and she said nothing in return.

He instructed the cab to take him home.

"1515 Gerard Way."

"You're traveling alone?"

"Absolutely."

The breeze was cool in the city. It blew Roy's hair back from his face. He inhaled deeply. The ramp once put over the stairs leading into the apartment had been thrown in the nearby weeds. He retrieved it and placed it back over, shaking his head at the odd instance that Sinclair chose to do something nice for him.

The key fit in the lock and opened exactly. Everything was exactly the way it was when Roy left. However, it looked as though it had been cleaned, the bed made, the clock set on time.

He threw his suitcase on the sofa and wheeled over to the bed. He kind of just sat there and stared at it, imagining the last times he had slept there. He put a pillow to his face, wishing somehow it would still smell like her, but it did not.

Everything was so still, so clean, so normal.

The telephone was still hooked up and working too. It was near three am, and Roy was exhausted, but still he needed to do what had to be done. He called another cab, and used the rest of his money in his wallet.

He knew where he was going. He knew, he knew.

Roy could've and should've waited till morning. But it was technically morning. He didn't even know if she still lived there, if she was with someone else, if she was gone entirely. She was most definitely sleeping. Or not.

It was nearly pitch black if not for the gleam of the moon. There was no little yellow car in the driveway. No lights were on. Roy was disappointed. He knew no one was home. But the cab had already left, and he didn't want to go home.

He wheeled up onto the porch and peeked through the window. Nothing. No light, no movement.

Well obviously, it's three fucking in the morning.

It didn't matter to him.

He placed his feet on the ground, as Dahlia had done. With one push he steadied himself on the frame of the front door.

Ring ring.

Roy stood there, sort of petrified.

Nothing.

Ring ring.

A gleam from a lamp appeared in the window.

Quick footsteps.

Roy gulped.

The door opened suddenly.

Roy was standing eye to eye with a sleepy MacKenzie. When she realized who it was her eyes widened. Her expression was not only shocked but puzzled as well. Roy in return was mesmerized. He had never seen her from this angle or height. Her hair was longer, lips plumper, frame thinner. She nearly gasped.

MacKenzie stared into Roy's sad eyes, not once breaking eye contact.

"I told you I'd be back."

TO BE CONTINUED...