Sunlight peaked through the thick velvet curtains, showing the billions of dust particles floating through the air nonchalantly. Unfortunately, light wasn't what Columbia wanted to be awakened by, her hung over mind wanting darkness and aspirin. The bottle was still held limply in her left hand, but dropped when her eyes opened and her palms shielded the light from her eyes. Sure, she had tried to think of a plan. She really did. And she got halfway through before her guilt got the best of her, and she drank to forget about what she said to Eddie.

The plan was half formed; her headache was pounding away, a hundred percent. The bathroom cabinet wasn't much help, opening it resulted in boxes of condoms spilling into the sink, assorted lubrications, and a few bottles of pills. Most of the prescriptions were outdated, except a possible few that didn't have labels. Popping what seemed to be a pain killer (expired only a few days before) she swallowed sink water, regretting it immediately. The water seemed dirty, but Columbia wasn't entirely surprised: As far as she could tell, anyone passing by the house thought it to be abandoned. How anything worked still marveled her.

The clothes felt dirty, felt like she was wearing trouble and pain. Throwing them off in the bathroom, she grabbed a ratty towel. Somehow, even with the blood stains and the holes, it felt better than the sequined bustier. Trying her door, it was locked. 'Cause all the surprises were used up yesterday,' she laughed bitterly, walking down the hall slowly, turning knobs. Most were locked-or jammed-but she was lucky enough to find the closet that Frank referred to as the "Costume Room." It nearly took her breath away, all the frivolity, and shimmer and glamour; it was almost enough to make her forget about her head.

The were boas, and masks, and everything even Frankie considered "not for everyday wear." She found a pair of sparkly tap shoes that made her think about days when she was a good girl, when everything made sense. She'd come back for them, but her head reminded her that she still wasn't in the mood to hear a click every time she took a step.

But fuchsia ballet flats, with ribbons lacing up over some fishnets? She was in the mood to be silly, look a little childish so when she faced Eddie, maybe-just maybe-he'd be more willing to forgive. She pulled on a maroon mini dress that fanned out tutu-like at the bottom. It occurred to her that she ought to shower, but while walking through what seemed to be a frivolous dream, she thought about a lot of things. Eddie liked music. Eddie liked rock and roll. Eddie liked Columbia, but she didn't know if he still did. She thought of ways to connect the two, into a peace offering he couldn't resist. As she applied mascara at the make up table, she thought about what she would say, but didn't get very far. Lipstick in a fiery red, to give some "sophistication" to her look made her wonder if it would be rubbed off, if they would kiss again. Blush, that made her aware of how pale, and shaky she was as she brushed it into her cheeks. She thought she looked alright as she walked out the doors, promising herself she'd come back for them when she found a place to put them. If she found a place to put them.

Columbia made sure to meld into the shadows, realizing with dismay that everyone else in the household probably hated her. Or at the very least, won't be opposed to making her feel even worse. Calling out the wrong name while sleeping Magenta-well, that was reason enough. And of course, her creepy balding brother would take her side. Running into them, they would probably ignore her or shoot her looks. Columbia wasn't very sure which she preferred. Running into Frankie-the groupie didn't even want to think of what could happen. 'Sure, he hurt me a coupla' times. But I love him…loved him' There was an even chance she'd run away or sleep with him.

And Eddie. Walking down the stairs, she begged herself not to sweat. Everyone else she was running away from, but she found herself wanting Eddie to like her, wanted his approval rather than the others. Seeing something in on a table she did not notice before, she grabbed it and headed to his room.

She stood outside for a very long time, swearing she could hear her heart beat. Her hand was on the doorknob, but she couldn't turn it, she was too nervous. Biting her lower lip, and tapping her foot to no beat, she seemed immobilized.

"Ya know, we could both get this over with if ya would just open the damn door."

She let out a squeak of surprise, and did what he told her to do. She almost dropped the "peace offering" her hands were defiantly slick enough, but she gripped it behind her back as she went in.

"How'd you know-"

"Well, when nothin' changes in this room, hot pink shoes underneath the door catch your attention real quick."

He said that without looking at her. He was shackled, must've lost the key, but she could see his fingers fidgeting, occasionally balling into a fist. Not sure what to do, she plopped down onto the mattress, wiggling until it was some sort of comfortable.

"Closer your eyes."

"Why? Is he comin' with a knife? Preppin' me for sugery?"

Columbia clucked her tongue, and repeated her request, adding a "Pretty-please-with-sugar-on-top" to the end of it this time. She thought she heard a bittersweet snort of amusement, but Eddie closed his eyes.

"Tada!"

She held out to him a portable radio, giving him a shy smile. At first he didn't say anything, his eyes just popped for a second. The hands stopped moving, and a look-not a smile, but a look-showed sincere appreciation. But Columbia knew too well that her little performance the night before wouldn't be so easily forgotten. The greaser asking her if it was for him to listen to while he got his 'brains ripped out' stung, but a tiny hint of playfulness came from the comment as well.

"Well, no…it's for you to listen to when there's nothing better to do."

"Until I get my 'brains ripped out.'"

"Not if I can help it!"

He actually laughed at that, and told her to go back to her science fiction double features with that kind of talk. Again, she wasn't sure if it wasn't meant to hurt or not. She wasn't sure if it did. Crawling up to him, the bumps making her hands and knees wobble; she put on her best angel face. Eddie looked at her, deadpan, and she gave a sigh and batted her eyelashes comically.

"No, seriously. I have a plan."

"And this would be…?"

"Well, what if we wrote a letter to someone?"

Now he sighed, looked at her and shook his head. It wasn't from disbelief, or pity, it was from the reality and the predicament they were both in.

"Than how would we mail it?"

"Well, one of us would have to get out."

"Impossible."

He said it with such misery, Columbia felt like she was breaking inside. But the plan was still in her head, still forming, somehow making sense to herself. The night the servants went to dig up the graveyard, the alarms would be disconnected. She'd slip out-she would, because one of them would need to distract Frank while the other was gone. It crushed her slightly, thinking about how Frank would notice Eddie's disappearance before hers, but she set the matter aside. She'd stick the letter in the nearest post office, and head back. It didn't scare her that she knew she wouldn't stay out forever. Not without coming back for Eddie. They were in this together, and she felt-even though she hadn't known him long-that she almost loved him.

She told him the plan, leaving out her feelings. There was a long silence, where both there bodies were tense. His fingers still didn't move, she suspected they were asleep by now. Finally, the biker took a deep breath.

"What do we do after that?"

"We wait."

"And what do we do until then?"

"We wait."

"…Okay."

She heard him sigh, knew that he couldn't think up a better plan. Finding the key under the mattress, she unlocked the cuffs, and they held hands. Not as friends, not as lovers, but as two people who were bound by their need to escape madness.

X.x.x.x.X

Hope you enjoyed! It's been sooo long, I know. Busy. California, job, good excuses. Next chapter will be worked on tomorrow. The end is nearing my loves! But fear not, it shall be a fun bumpy ride. I promise.