Circles

Jason chuckles and sinks a little lower in the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. Misty might have some kind of motherly glow, but she was beautiful whether she was pregnant or not. He'd always thought so.

Yawning, he watches the movie with tired interest as his eyes begin to grow heavy. It had been a long day and it was finally catching up to him. He knew if he was alone, he'd be lying in bed tossing and turning. But with Misty here... she was so warm and comfortable under his arm... so relaxed...

It didn't take long for his breathing to slow, signaling he'd fallen asleep.


"Cory just... got in the way," Garret responds lamely. "He just... got in the way." It was the truth. But only partially. They'd staked out that warehouse for two days and on day three, they'd finally been able to move in. And when they did, Garret had found himself alone with a clear route... to freedom. He'd never taken advantage before. Never. But something inside of him had seemed to snap. Slipping away from his position, he'd aimed for that door... the door that would lead out to the bay where he would disappear. But Cory had seen him. Stopped him. Questioned him. Suspected him. And Garret, fearing his slip in judgment to be exposed, had shot him. And that shot had started a mini war, throwing the whole mission into upheaval. He had dared, for one moment to grasp the tattered edge of a dream, only to discover his foolishness.

Blinking, Garret pushes the images from his mind to bring Victoria's face back into focus. It takes a few seconds for her words to register, as if he'd been in a momentary daze.

"I don't know if it's even possible to relax anymore," he counters wearily. This was a life of wealth and frills. Anything anybody wanted right at their fingertips. But somehow it had all lost its appeal... ever since Cassandra.

His eyes fall shut once more, his fingers gently running back and forth through Victoria's hand. "I'm just so tired... in here." He taps his chest. "I never thought I could tire of this life. But I have... and I don't know if I can recover or not. Suddenly nothing makes sense. Like discovering all along, I've just been a rat in a formulated maze, prompted to the end over and over and over, and like a robot, I have obeyed. One wrong move is certain death. Yet there is a sick side to it all that lures people in - that keeps them addicted to the glamor and power. As much as I am sickened by this prison, I wonder if I ever really could walk away." He'd started to today, but would he really have followed through? He'd never know. "Maybe this isn't the nightmare at all - maybe it's the outside world that truly is, and we're better off here than anywhere else." It was a pitiful conclusion, but the safest.

Letting go of her hand, he opens his eyes before lifting his palm to her face, his thumb running slowly down her cheek, over he lips, then back to her cheek again. "You and I are cursed. Cursed with a forbidden love. When does a man finally break under the agony?"

He was talking in circles, but whether he realized it or not wasn't clear. Was he finally losing his mind?

"Sometimes I feel I am losing my heart. That it is slowly turning to stone, allowing me to continue each assignment of insanity. But how long can a man live with a stone in his chest? Perhaps longer than I think - your grandfather has no heart. But why would a man even want to live without a heart?"

He stares into Victoria's eyes, desperately searching for something real to grasp. "Without a heart... can I still love?"