The end.

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Headphone does not own.

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Guy stared at alabaster walls, innocent faces stealing away at the wholeness of everything. There was no exact way to do anything in this area, and no real law of how to run this place. His eyes darted from one stain on the plaster to another, and after a while, he was playing connect the dots with random smears of who-knows-what that people had spilt on it since it was last painted. A voice echoed in front of him, and he gave it no heed until said voice became a person blocking the view of his little game he had created.

The cigarette in his mouth became extremely distasteful suddenly, and he promptly took it out with a hand that was unwilling to move from its stationary spot at his side and began to twiddle it in-between his fore-fingers. His eyes were now shot up to a doctor, and he couldn't help but note as to how young they looked, and from the way their eyes shown with a hint of lively-ness, he assumed them just to be a figment of his own crazy imagination.

"So you're back from the cells, are you?" The doctor began, his white coat making random movements as he shifted his weight form one well-dressed shoe to another, making his hip jut out in the opposite direction. Guy just nodded, and continued to play with the cancer stick he held so lazily in his hands, and flicked off ashes before they became too abundant.

"Yeah, got back this morning." He reckoned, and brought the slim white stick up to his lips, but didn't dare to inhale the sickening toxins in yet. "Still got the bruises and everything." The doctor nodded, almost as to show he was pleased, but not to that high of a sadistic extent. His hair, as Guy had noticed almost too quickly for his blurry eyes to focus, was a deep green color, which was very unlike the rest of the staff, who had natural hair colors of pink, white, and a shade of green very similar to this doctor.

"Well, then I'll have Nurse Tear make sure to give you pain medicine at your next meal." The doctor said, his matching olive eyes scanning Guy as if he were some sort of medical prey, and as if the practitioner was some sort of creepy predator who had come for feeing. Feelings of unease traced all of Guy, and he could feel the odd tingles coming from his cancerous stick almost become amplified throughout his body by some weird sort of apprehension, and he wanted to ask the doctor if he made all of the people he spoke with feel that way, but decided against it as he noticed said practitioner leaving, and rather hastily at that. His coat-tails swished with every step and Guy realized that he hadn't known his name, and tried to make hast to figure it out.

"Hey—" Guy called out after him, almost shocked at himself by this little thing he hadn't realized he'd been doing until it escaped from his cracked smoke-tasting lips. The doctor, who had almost gotten out of his sights, turned around, a single, almost-modest, glare placed upon his eyes, as if a scowl not even a second earlier was not enough trauma for the blond male.

"What?" The green-haired doctor answered back, his voice sounding more agitated then before, and with a single little hitch in it that made him sound more adolescent then before. Guy walked forward a little bit, so to see his face better, since his vision wasn't as up-to-par as most peoples, finding he could see the glare clearer now then a few seconds before.

"I never caught you're name." The blond replied, his own drained out blue eyes focusing upon the green orbs placed on the name-less doctors face, and found the same hint of liveliness as before, and brought himself out of a trance of the living as he realized that he had been talking the whole time. As it turns out, the doctor was, in fact, not so much a doctor, but one of the higher-up doctors that were known for treating the unstable of the patients, and that he was in fact very well-known, but that hardly anyone knew his face.

"My name is Doctor Sync F. Vladimir, good day." And with that, he turned on his well-polished heel and made way with himself throughout the hallways, and Guy only found himself feeling extremely stupid that he wouldn't have been able to recognize his own doctors brother. He was quickly caught between thoughts and pain as the cigarette he was been holding had quickly burnt up, leaving only his hand with the hastily burning stick, and had, at that moment, obtained a new burn-mark with the many on his hand where that had happened many times before. He yelped, threw the, now stubby, stick onto the linoleum and quickly ground it swiftly with his dull heels, finding himself all the while cradling his burnt fore-fingers in an attempt to stop the pain.

Stupid Mondays and their ability to make everything and everyone go wrong, turn inside-out, and switch the entire polarity of the solar system, resulting in an epic catastrophe leaving us in the middle of the end of time and space itself.

Whoever had created the world, or more so, what Guy had seen of it so far, was obviously a melodramatic psycho without a girlfriend. Because the fact that there was even such a thing as psychotics was one reason, and the other was for making said blond be surrounded by them on a more-then-constant basis. Standing against the same wall, with the same brand of cigarette on his crackling lips, and the same hair gel fluffy his hair up in the same way everyday was a sign of the same thing to happen.

He was almost expecting a white coat tail, well-trimmed boats, and slacks that were worth much more then his entire life, to come waltzing over, mincing words, and leaving it as nothing. It would have been an almost that was easily forgotten, since as soon as the simple thought of anything going as an insane bastard dictated would have been complete and utter nonsense. Plus, there was no reason for Dr. Sync to come around, making his way namelessly down the halls of faceless patients.

Almost as on cue, Guy remembered his earlier game of connect-the-dots that he had previously abandoned without delay throughout Sync's appearance, and found it more then amusing, as he quickly was able to make profane images easily. Then, things blocked his vision of his wondrous and amusing game, only this time it wasn't the cliché white coat tails he was almost asking for, instead, it was a face, all too innocent, yet at the same time, he knew better then to think anyone in this hospital would be slightly sane.

Green orbs that were too light to be the doctors, and eyebrows that spoke unconvincingly in a shade of red, along with a nose that was evenly shaped for the shape of the face, and lips that parted to speak without sound. A sudden nerve was pointed into as the person at hand poked their finger into his side, causing him to loose his game even father by sliding ever-so-slightly to the side.

"Guy~. What are you doing?" The voice was recycled in his head about seven million times, and all of the times, he felt as though it was a bit too iffy for his preferences. The jutting finger in his side was removed promptly by Guy's left hand, echoing a small, disapproving mewl from the short, red-haired boy who insisted on sticking his nose into Guy's face in a manner that anyone would have thought of as strange, or hell, even awkward. Though it was more common than not.

"Move." Guy said hastily, skipping introductions, or any sort of friendly greeting, picking the smaller male up under his armpits, though foremost placing his cancer stick between his peachy lips, and placing him next to the blond, to his exact right, facing the same wall Guy so often played his game on. It seemed awkward, but he did this little thing so he could continue his game of connect-the-dots without any larger interruptions than the common passer-by who would pass by in a way that was slow but well-passed. After a few moments of suckling, Guy replaced his cigarette back between his fingers, not even noticing the hastily shortening length of it.

"What's up?" More silence followed this, until a hiss ensued from Guy for the second time that day, as he quickly flung the deflated stick to the ground, crushing it promptly, all the while shaking his hand to even out the pain into his palm and wrist. Luke found good humor in this, and chuckled lightly, finding a quick glare shot to him from Guy's direction, and turned his head to flush out his giggles silently without any worries.

After the quick panic in Guy's hand settled down to a light tingle like the rest of his common burns that he cared too little about to actually get them checked into, there was a bone-crushing silence that was all too common. Every few moments, Luke would open his mouth to say saying along the lines of 'You never answered my question', but found his answer quickly on Guy's face as it was obvious that he was enthralled with something, with his blue eyes glimmering with a small shot of liveliness that was about a third of the doctor's.

"Connect the dots." Was stated suddenly, and between the two of them, Luke was the first to flinch at the sudden noise that was not the screaming of some random instructor to try and stop a fight that was most likely caused by some sort of paranoid beneficiary and a common rapist and/or insomniac that somehow got involved even if they weren't a part of it, like it usually was in this place.

"Huh?" Confusion laced Luke's face, and the secondary patient could have set a record for the amount of time having to ask himself 'what the fuck' over a question. And although the red-head was never one to question his intelligence, he knew he wasn't up-to-par, like the blond male's promptly seceding eyesight. The things Guy currently set his sight on, as if on a cliché mentioning asked for it, was the bottom corner of the wall, where the plaster ended, and a new hallway began, where the alabaster ending and began with the linoleum.

"That's what I was playing today." Guys voice was steady, almost too much, which caught Luke slightly off-guard, since he was expecting a small stutter in his voice, a light crack, anything to show he was on a normal level with his being. But this, this showed he was above level, it showed that he was doing magnificent enough to not try to swallow his voice like how Mondays swallowed humanities entirety, and then spit it up to give us what we call lunatics.

"Ah." And Luke pretended for the third time that week to know what was going on, and he also pretended that it wasn't Monday, and he wasn't a joke of a human. He pretended he was an alien-matter that just so happened to come across a planet full of sane persons just long enough to give him an understanding, and then have that crumble into fear, paranoia, and his problem for being at the Abysmal Therapy Clinic.

A/N:

The reason for this being BOTH Guy/luke and Guy/Sync is because they do both happen, and while i can't divulge details, since that would spoil it ALL, just believe in me, and the reason that this is under Sync x Guy is because that's the larger portion of the story.