A/N: Greetings! For those of you who don't know me, I'm an angst writer. Mostly for anime. But this idea just won't leave me alone. I have always adored Lie to Me, and the amusing antics of Doctor Cal Lightman.
So, I realize that this first chapter may (or may not) be a little confusing. But this is meant to be the introduction to this story which I hope you all enjoy! And please review to let me know the level of interest in this concept!
He couldn't feel his feet against the ground as one moved heavy in front of the other, walking past the masses of nameless, faceless souls flooding the bustling sidewalks. Like blood coursing through veins. He had been torn down. Made a walking void. Nothing. He had been reduced to nothing. He was nothing.
And he felt...
Nothing.
He didn't register that he had finally made it to his apartment complex...a lavish, high rise building. Nor the sensation of the keys in the palm of his hand as he stood outside the door. He didn't feel his feet carry him helplessly through the threshold of darkness into his empty apartment. Empty, like himself. With a darkness he couldn't claim back from the light that had just been shed on his past. A darkness he now longed for.
He wanted it back..
That darkness that had so loyally held his deepest secrets.
He couldn't feel the sensation of his fingers as he slowly undid the laces of his thick, spiked, black leather combat boots. Slipped his feet from the protective comfort of familiar spikes and chains, separating them to set them aside from the rest of his rebellious, almost anarchistic attire. He didn't feel the cold apartment floor beneath his bare feet after removing his socks. One foot in front of the other, moving him silently through the space as he found himself paused at the beautiful, large sliding door of the balcony.
The favorite area of his home.
A space he absolutely loved...for many reasons.
He stood there. Silently, for a moment. Staring through the glass door. His deep, rich chocolate brown gaze took in the vast expanse of the city from the silent safety of his living room. He watched, for a moment, as the city lights fought against the dying sun like vigil candles flickering against whispers in the silent sanctuary of a holy church. The refracted light from the city skyline against the sliding door brought out the more subtle warmth of amber and gold flecks in his now lifeless eyes as he watched the death of this day before his hand finally found its way to the handle.
Long slender, calloused fingers tipped in gothic black polish moved of their own accord as they curled around the handle to open the sliding door. Stepping lightly through the threshold into the elements and faint city noise below, he couldn't feel the biting cold of the unforgiving concrete of the balcony underneath his bare feet.
Nothing.
He felt nothing.
He was nothing.
Nothing, as he made his way to the rail. Nothing, as his feet lifted him up and over each slat. Nothing, as his toes delicately touched the concrete on the other side of the rail, turning him like a graceful dancer to face out towards the city. Nothing, as his fingers gripped and twisted the rail. Nothing, as the weight of his tall, almost awkward lanky frame was held suspended by arms that held him weightless above the world below him.
He should feel something.
Anything.
He wanted desperately to feel again.
...anything at all...
All of the time he had spent running. Hiding. Violently forcing everything down with alcohol and pills. All of the fear. Pain. Rage. He wanted it back.
Maybe if he just let go.
Maybe then he might feel something. Anything...but this agonizing emptiness. His body still moving and breathing, but completely disconnected. Disconnected and disjointed from any sensation. Completely hollowed out and numb. Dead.
He felt his fingertips respond infinitesimally towards this almost welcoming thought. Loosening their grip on the rail as his head hung to gaze unseeing upon the world below him. The garishly rebellious razor-blade dangling from the chain around his neck lightly swinging like a pendulum with the infinitesimal movement of his body.
All he had to do...was let go.
And this thought. It was so warm and inviting. So completely irresistible. Inevitable, and unavoidable like the gravity longing to take hold of him and pull him down.
It would be so easy.
All he had to do was let go.
And in the end...with this final act.
Was nothing.
Nothing at all...but black.
Black...and the bloodcurdling sound of a horrified scream.
Dream
Send me a sign
Turn back the clock
Give me some time
I need to break out
Make a new name
Let's open our eyes
It's a brand new day
Ay
Ay
Ah-ah-ah-ah, ah
Ah-ah, ah-ah