It was a game, seeing how long it took for him to break. The walls closed in on him, and the darkness was stifling. It sucked all the oxygen from the room. He scratched at the door until his hands were a bloody mess, then he weakly thumped his hand against the door. Finally he would pass out after screaming himself hoarse.

After a few hours, the door would creak open and his father would kick at his unconscious body.

"Get up boy!" He hauled the small boy up by his arm, nearly pulling it out of the socket. With one final tug, he pulled him out of the room and dumped him unceremoniously on the floor.

Sleep tugged at Adam, but every time he began to drift off, the dull ache in his stomach-a constant reminder of his hunger, and the memories of his past-kept him awake.

Matt wasn't sure what to make of his recent look into Ad-Julian's past. It was all jumbled up into images of pain and cramped closets, which painted a picture of a horrific childhood. No matter how much Matt fought it, he was starting to feel something akin to empathy for the man. He knew what it was like to have a less than perfect father.

He pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind and tried to analyze the man before him. His own stomach was beginning to ache. Julian appeared to be sending out his feelings in waves and it was impossible for Matt to not pick up on them. Finally, the pain stopped. He saw Julian's eyes roll into the back of his head and he saw him stop breathing. At first he panicked, but then he saw a slight glow come over the man and a few minutes later he coughed.

Feels like being raked over broken glass, like my insides are burning. Can't even die right. Should have just stayed buried.

Matt shuddered at the intensity of the words. It felt intimate and wrong to be listening to Julian's thoughts. He knew how invasive it was for someone to dig into your mind against your will, but he couldn't hold back the torrent of emotions and thoughts that the other man was unknowingly broadcasting to anyone with a psychic connection-which in this case was Matt. He just wished that there was something he could do to comfort the man. Maybe if he could-

"Oh!" Julian flinched at the man's shout. It was a yip of excitement that barely caused the sleeping occupants of the room to stir, but that snapped Julian out of his internal turmoil and brought him back to the current situation. Matt jumped up and padded across the room, to his bag on the floor in the corner opposite Julian. A few minutes of rustling and mumbling later Matt stood up, grasping something in his right hand, a look of joy and triumph on his face. When he turned to face Julian, the other man's gaze was fixed to the floor, but if he had looked up he would have been struck by how child-like and innocent Matt's expression was. The detective found himself approaching the immortal much like he would approach a traumatized victim or a child. He held his hands out, intending for them to be nonthreatening at his sides, and he took careful, steady, steps forward on the carpeting.

Julian fixed his eyes to the dull gray carpet. Just be quiet. Maybe he'll go away if I'm quiet. I promise to be quiet. I'll be quiet if he just goes away. The walls of the hotel morphed into darkness, cupboard walls closing in on him. He smelled the faint tinge of metal and dust. His damp clothes were clinging to his clammy skin and even his armed wrapped around his middle could not hold in the warmth that was seeping out of him. Father's never thrown me in with wet clothes before, Julian mused. I must have done something to really anger him.

Suddenly a loud "Oh!" was uttered from somewhere nearby. He found himself flinching, much to his chagrin. Stupid. Stupid. So pathetic. His eyes flicked up in suspicion as the mind-reader from before stood up. His muscles tensed in preparation for an attack, but he found himself relaxing when the man walked to the other side of the room. Yet again his focus turned inward. Maybe I'll freeze to death. Have I ever frozen to death? I think it would be a peaceful way to go. And maybe…just maybe…it'll be the last time I die.

Julian returned his attention to the man across the room when Matt stood up from his crouched position before a bag. As the man turned, Julian averted his gaze back to the ground.

"Can't even look me in the eyes like a man. No wonder you're so pathetic!"

The telepath was walking towards him now at a slow, daunting pace. Please don't come any closer.

The feet came closer. The other man was halfway there now. Please don't! I promise I'll be good father.

A quarter of the way left. Please. Please. Please! Please! I don't want to hurt anymore!

The feet stopped two feet away. Julian's eyes were frozen to the socked feet before him. Thank god they're not steel-toed boots, Julian found himself thinking, thanking the powers that be for small favors.

The man before him kneeled and a face came just in his field of vision. Not so close. Close isn't safe. Close hurts. A few seconds passed, but nothing happened. A minute was gone when Julian finally lifted his eyes, hesitantly, to lock gazes with softly crinkling eyes.

"Please," he found himself moaning mournfully.

Authors Note: Until next time...tee hee! Sorry for the delay with this latest chapter. I have been trying to find the inspiration to write, but now that I just got a new phone and I get updates for on it, I had noticed that a bunch of people keep pestering me to work on my stories, so I have finally started working on them again. Hopefully I'll be able to keep up the momentum.