I can't take this anymore. I just... I can't. There's no way I can walk through that door and pretend that nothing happened. No way I can pretend I didn't lose it back there. I mean, I lost it big-time. There's no way I can face Hobbes, or Claire, or anyone else at the Agency.

Yeah, so Hobbes saw whatever happened happen. So what? I'm not going in there. I'm perfectly happy to call in a sick day at my apartment, thank you very much.

I'd like to find some explanation for what happened. But I really don't think there is one. I just... snapped. I guess it could've been worse. But it was plenty bad enough.

It's hard to remember exactly what happened, at least for me. Most of it's a big fat blur. I remember walking into that building with Hobbes, I remember some guy shooting at us... And then... then I... Crap! I can't remember what happened. I just know I lost it.

I know I lost it 'cause the next thing I can remember is me sitting on the ground, and Hobbes standing beside me, with this worried look on his face. I'll never forget that look. It was the first thing that told me something was wrong.

I remember the body, too. That guy who'd been shooting at us... I blew his head off. Maybe I lost it after I killed him, I don't know. I just know I blew his brains out, and they were scattered all over the floor.

I can't do this, I can't do this. There is no way I can walk into the Agency like this. Maybe I'll just stay holed up in my apartment for the rest of my life. Play foxhole in the bedroom or something. There is no way I can face any of 'em today. No way...

I know I didn't go quicksilver mad, 'cause my tattoo only had three segments on it when I came to. I wasn't nuts, but I still blew that guy's head off. Maybe I was nuts. Maybe I really went nuts in there. Not quicksilver mad, but the real type of crazy. God, I can't stand not knowing...

Oh crap, someone's knocking at the door. Maybe if I ignore them they'll just go away. Maybe if I just sit here and hide behind my bed they won't realize I'm here. I can't let anybody see me like this.

"No. No, go away." I knew I should never have given Hobbes the key to my apartment... "Hobbes, leave me alone."

"Fawkes..."

"Get away from me! Go 'way!"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Just leave me alone..."

"Fawkes, do you remember what happened?"

I remember seeing some guy with his head blown off laying right next to me, and a gun lying near my hand. What more do I need to know? "No."

"Fawkes, you didn't kill that guy."

"Don't lie to me, Bobby."

"Really. You didn't."

I'd like to believe you Hobbes, but I can't... I know I did it. I had to be the one who did it. I killed that guy, I just know I killed that guy...

"Fawkes? Fawkes, stop beating yourself up, partner. I'm the one that shot the guy. He was hiding up on one of those little balcony-type things on the second floor, and he shot at you, and you fell and hit your head, and I shot him, and he fell off, and... Well, his head hit the concrete and he just went kersplat."

No, you didn't do it, it was me. It had to be me. "Hobbes, just leave me alone."

"Fawkes, you hit your head! That guy shot at you, you tried to jump out of the way, you fell down some stairs, hit your head on the concrete too. You were out cold for a couple of minutes, had me real worried there for a while. There's no way you could've killed that guy."

"No. I killed that guy, I had to be the one who killed him, there was a gun right by my hand..."

"That was MY gun! I dropped it 'cause I was busy checking your pulse!"

"I blew his brains out..."

"Fawkes, I'M the one who blew his brains out!"

"Then... then I didn't..."

"No. You didn't."

Oh, thank God. I didn't do it. I'm not crazy. "Hobbes..."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."


The End