He's climbing the steepest road in existence, almost exactly ninety degrees. He runs perfectly parallel, his bare feet swiftly making contact with the pavement.

He comes to a grinding halt when he reaches the top and stares down at the end of the road below. With one step forward he can easily tumble down the sudden violent drop, and his toes curl over the edge.

A hand is placed over his mouth from behind. It's sweaty and forceful. A swift knee is jabbed into his back and his body now becomes airborne.

As he falls into the abyss below, the figure of a slim, blonde woman is seen from in the distance. She's crying, and without hesitation, quickly jumps after him.

*

Roy had gotten little to no sleep after Dahlia dropped him back off at his house. She kissed him goodnight and said she'd be back in the morning for work. Despite Roy living only a few houses down Dahlia only seemed nothing but happy to pick him up. He never wheeled to her house anymore.

He expected the atmosphere between them to be tense, but that wasn't the case. Dahlia embraced Roy almost immediately that morning and even tongue kissed him. She tasted like coffee and questionable decisions. Roy couldn't resist but to kiss her back with the taste of discontent on his own tongue.

Roy's nose was the color of his shirt. It was slowly starting to heal, and Roy was relieved that after the swelling finally went down his nose wasn't as crooked as he thought it would be.

He got most of his work done quickly, mostly because if he kept himself constantly occupied his mind wouldn't wander and the guilt in his stomach wouldn't creep in. He felt totally nauseous all day.

Amanda would occasionally glance at Roy and Dahlia whenever they were in the same room, and would grin so wide her eyes became little slits. Roy was dumbfounded at the almost motherly way Dahlia had first treated him in public and then overnight acted as if they were married for years. She didn't do it today besides the occasional tousle of hair.

"Roy, could you do us a favor?" Dahlia asked. She sat on his lap. She did this often. Roy was indifferent about it. "Would you look over the library if Amanda and I did lunch?"

"Uh, sure, I guess."

"Ah! Thank you." Dahlia kissed Roy on the forehead. "Kevin should be stopping by real soon anyway, so you shouldn't be alone for that long."

"Look at you!" Amanda exclaimed in that voice. "Running this entire place by yourself!"

Roy glared at her but she didn't seem to notice.

"We'll be back soon," Dahlia smiled. "You're still coming to dinner tonight, right? Dade wants to play games and stuff."

"Yeah..."

"Great!"

Roy shuddered when they left. His thoughts were racing. He was not having separation anxiety, no, that would be absolutely ridiculous. He felt guilty and terribly tired. His mind felt like an assembly line with no end. And he wasn't even intoxicated when he chose to pick up the telephone mounted on the wall in the back room.

"Hello?"

Roy froze up. He didn't know what to say. His heart pounded violently in his chest.

"Roy, I know it's you. No one else calls this number."

....

"A GIRL GAVE ME HEAD."

....

"What?"

....

"WE HAD SEX."

"What the fuck?"

....

"WE SLEPT TOGETHER."

"Why the hell are you telling me this?"

"Because I feel guilty."

"AS YOU DAMN WELL SHOULD BE."

"I, uh..." Roy turned bright red when to his surprise, that same elderly woman from the day before was staring at him again with a look of fear.

"Am I ever gonna see you again or are you gonna marry whoever you're humping?"

"I-I'll come back...I will."

"I feel like you're not. I feel like you're just saying that."

"Are you...still paying my rent?"

"Why? Should I not?"

"It's not your responsibility."

"It is now."

The line was closed. Roy hung up the phone, disgruntled.

He stared back at the elderly woman. "What?!"

She jumped.

"Ah! Mr. Walker!" Kevin said cheerfully as he came through the back door.

"Mr. MacMillan..."

"I've brought packages from city hall."

"You can set them on the desk..."

"Where are Amanda and Dahlia?"

"Out at lunch."

"They're not technically supposed to do that."

"I kind of figured." Roy wheeled back to the front desk.

"What, er, your face looks a bit weathered. Who punched you, Dahlia?" Kevin chuckled.

"Oh...I fell..."

"Yikes! Take better care of yourself, y' hear?"

"Mmm," Roy answered.

He continued to check out the occasional book and several purchases of the paper. He usually never looked at their faces, his head down.

A library patron slid over a copy of the newspaper and put his cash on the desk.

"Mm. Thank y-" Roy glanced up. He met eyes with someone very familiar, and both their eyes widened.

No fucking way...

They stared at each other for awhile, neither saying a single word. The tall, slender man retrieved his paper without looking, and Roy's expression suddenly turned into the most violent death stare of all death stares.

Yes. That Doctor. Dr. Lockhart. The doctor. The one who put Roy on suicide watch. Who watched he and Dahlia basically jailbreak out of an institution.

The doctor slowly leaned over util he was down to Roy's level. He looked at him straight in the eye, a sinister expression as he spoke lowly.

"You know...people are more comfortable with those who look and are similar to them."

He totally knows. He totally knows.

Roy gulped, sweat beads forming on his forehead. Dr. Lockhart stared at Roy for what seemed like several minutes before slowly walking out the front door.

Roy let out an exasperated sigh. He would've jumped off the top of the library if he could climb the building.