When I touched your skin for the first time, I felt heaven in my hands
So I try to close my eyes. And I'm dreaming me away. (BLUTENGEL, Song "In my dreams")

=== Bay Ridge / Hospital ===

Over a week had passed since Westlake woke up first, grasped by the panic to be in the hands of some 'scientists' eager to experiment on him again. Meanwhile his fears had settled for a big part. These medics were actually here to help him… He felt much better already. For 4 days now, he was out of intensive care. The additional strength supported a better healing process, it seemed. He had already wondered about this side effect 8 years ago after he had ripped the controlling device out of his neck.

Moreover… hope had sneaked in again, like a thief, unnoticed first and only detected when it was too late to overwhelm him. First, Peyton had struggled against the various alluring possibilities, the prospects suddenly enfolding and being within reach again. He had fought against them like a thirsty man in the desert against visions of shade and water. However the thirst had been greater than all rationality. He did not want to let go of the vision. He could not. Hope was like a drug. Once tasted, it made addicted.

Things had happened, which only rooted deeper the hope in his mind. One day, the door had opened and one of his old colleagues showed up. Hendrik Reinitzer acted as if only some days separated them from the time as assistants in the Medical Department. When he left, Peyton had asked for some summaries from Varinapam's publications. Meanwhile he felt well enough again to read some pages of them. Still it was too straining to concentrate longer than half an hour consecutively, but it was getting better every day.

Hope to resume his work soon! Hope to finally find the right formula!

And then, there was Claire. She made it somehow believable his hopes could be fulfilled. Her presence made him really forget who he was; not only some seconds, but all the time she was in this room. He fought against this feeling like against the growing hope. In the quiet hours, when Claire had left, the fear to loose everything again was a dark agonizing cloud hovering over him. He did not want these feeling, because to feel also meant the possibility for disappointment and pain. However, his heart clearly did not listen to these rational computations.

…

Claire was sitting next to him and talked about the latest adventures of the cats and Jerky, and her mother's worries about these 'flea bags' – even after an additional cleaning process at the veterinary!

Peyton reached out and let his fingers slide through her hair and over her cheek. It felt wonderful; as he had imagined the moment he danced with her in the Old City Hall Station. No… it was a far more beautiful sensation! He was not certain if it was the same when he had touched Julie long ago. It seemed… different, and probably not only because of his still rudimentary ability to sense anything. Perhaps it was… just her. Or the fact that he had lived deprived of this sort of contact for so long.

Claire smiled and took his hand. They looked into each others eyes. There were moments like this one, when reality pierced him with all its force again and threw him down. He wanted to embrace and kiss her (and if he was honest to himself, he wanted much more than this alone) but for now this all was out of question.

"Claire… I don't know, how long it'll take… It could take 'onths… and i' there are sudden di'iculties… it could take years."

"So I will wait with you and help you through", she answered. "I mean, I won't be a crack in Medicine or Bioengineering, but – I can prepare you the best morning coffee ever! For instance…"

I love her, he thought, I love her and I want her, and I really go mad…

=== Bay Ridge / Claire's home ===

Claire sat on the couch in the living room and felt like on trial.

"I have to talk to you," her mother had said, looking still deranged and nervous. And the young woman had chosen to listen in order to not upset her further. Nonetheless, the communication was nearing a dispute…

"Claire-darling, I know this man has rescued you and your father. Of course Frank and I are very, very, grateful about that. It was a great gesture-"

"A great GESTURE, Mom? He risked his life for persons he did not even know! He nearly DIED!"

"You understand what I'm trying to say. It was a brave action, and for that he deserves our gratitude. Be assured, we will recompense him adequately, with anything he requests. A place to live, a monthly check, anything." Anna Deveraux stopped pacing through the room and rested in front of her daughter. "I know you feel responsible for what happened to this poor man –"

"His name is Peyton!" Claire was getting angry. Her mother still talked about him as if he was a nameless hobo not worth remembering, only worth to let a buck fall into pleading hands and then walk by.

Anna Deveraux repeated: "I know it is difficult for you, Claire-darling. But you ARE not responsible for his condition. He gets all necessary treatment in the hospital. In fact, we sponsor the hospital; you are surely informed of that. It is of no use visiting him daily! On the contrary, this could disturb the medical procedures. Claire, you have done more than enough, and it is time to occupy with other important things, as your studies!"

Her studies didn't interest her the slightest at the moment. "Mom, I do not visit him, because I feel guilty! I LOVE HIM!" It was good to say it aloud in her presence. She was in the mood now, and would have liked to continue with words like 'I go with him to the end of the world and raise a family and I don't want your help!'

But the shocked expression of her mother let the words stuck in her throat. Anna Deveraux was as pale as the designer couch. To hear this from Claire herself was nearly too much to handle. "Claire…you act impulsive and irrationally. I only want the best for you… please, understand."

"Mom. I appreciate your concerns. But I KNOW what I'm doing. I'm no baby anymore!"

"You're acting upset and weird since your incident in the Subway; since you first crossed the path of this man! Claire, find back to your senses! Perhaps it would be good if you go on a little vacation, to forget everything. Perhaps to Aunt Louise in Toulouse…"

"I won't go anywhere!" She jumped to her feet.

"Claire, what I mean is: you don't know this man!"

"Why can't you say his name? Is something wrong with it?"

"Please… don't raise your voice like that. I have such a headache…." Anna Deveraux sighed. "The medics at the hospital made some tests with him. He suffers from a major neurological imbalance. Dr. Coley judged him mentally highly unstable. Now you understand, why-"

"You let them do experiments on him?" Claire shouted now. She didn't care about her mother's headache or the housekeeper in the kitchen.

"Claire! Heavens! Don't you see you are not yourself? No one did torture this man. Only some simple, harmless tests performed on many patients with neurological trauma or something similar!"

"You let them make tests on him BEHIND MY BACK! I told you what he is gone through, and you ordered this!" The young woman ran out of the room, without giving any attention to her mother anymore. Tears of anger and disappointment burned in her eyes, while she hastily searched for her passport, her credit card, and some clothing. She threw everything in her backpack and shortly after she was on the staircase again.

"Claire? Claire-darling? What are you doing?"

She was out of the door.

=== At the hospital ===

Westlake still felt slightly disoriented, when Claire came to visit him, one hour earlier than usually allowed. She had made quite a scene outside at the front desk, until the nurse decided it would be the best just let her through, than to cause trouble in the whole ward.

"Claire…?" He squeezed his eyes. "They did so'thing to 'e…" A nasty doubt was bugging him, if he could still trust her, or if everything had only been a ruse. "They injected me so'thing…"

"It's okay. It was nothing bad. Just a little post-op-check-thing," she said, taking his hand. She felt evil about lying to him; however she did not want to compromise her mother, too. "How do you feel now?"

"Don't know…" He shook his head; tried to get a clear mind and to get rid of the doubts about Claire. "I ha' to get out o' here. Soon. … Ha' to start 'orking…"

"You are not fit enough for work, Peyton, you know that."

"Yes…" And I have no place to stay… he thought, …even if I get the job at the Columbia again, the bureaucracy has to be done before. No one would give me that an important position with just a handshake. I have to be up to this! With considerable effort, he forced his mind out of the haze. "I ha' to start 'orking, Claire! E'en though I ha' to sit in a 'heelchair!"

"I'll get you out of here as soon as I can, I promise!" she whispered, letting her head rest besides his for a moment. "I can… bring you a laptop, if you feel well enough for that?"

He nodded. He simply HAD to feel well enough! Still the string from hope to reality was a fragile thing. He had to make it a little bit stronger.

But for now, it was too much. He fell asleep and did not notice Claire crying.

The young woman did not know what to do. She had checked in at the hotel next door again and so far denied every call from her mother or father on the celly. Perhaps this was not wise. Perhaps her parents would call the police, and then everything would get worse. She planned to talk to her girlfriend Jenna. But for the moment she only wanted to stay here. If possible, she would've rested at Peyton's bed like a watch dog and take care nothing else happened.

=== Two days later ===

The mansion of the Deveraux's at Bay Ridge was again in agitation. "Frank," Anna had just said in leaving the lunch table without eating anything, "she won't listen to me! She answers no calls! It's as if she is in… in a kind of religious sect! You HAVE to do something! I don't want to loose our only child to an unpredictable maniac!"

Frank Deveraux folded his napkin together. He did not like this situation, but considering the state of mind of his family, he decided something had to be done.

…

Peyton was surprised to see Claire's father again. He had visited him once, with a press-team on tail, which was out for a photo of the rescued shaking hands with the rescuer. He knew from Claire, her parents weren't too fond about the 'relationship' between him and their daughter. For that, he was curious what this was all about.

Frank Deveraux had the air of a business man in a hurry who did not want to repeat his important decisions twice. "Mr. Westlake, I hope you're feeling well." His voice betrayed his non-existing interest in this matter.

"Yes. Thank you. Sorry I can't talk good. I'll try."

"Don't worry. It is not important for you to speak. Only to listen to my proposal… my offer, in fact." He cleared his throat. "I know you are eager to go back to your research and if possible get the position of the late Professor Varinapam at the Medical Department. I know it is your goal to complete the work on the liquid skin and make it applicable in day-to-day-hospital treatment. It is certainly known to you the project lacks funding and the Dean is not sure yet if there is enough money to provide without the star of a Nobel Prize – winner like Varinapam. Well… you saved my life. You did a great thing for our country. I'm willing to fund the project and move you at its head, Mr. Westlake…"

Peyton watched the man in front of him. This was an awesome offer, something like a fairy letting rain golden stars in his hands. But… there was a trait in the face and the eyes of Frank Deveraux not suitable to a fairy's gift. A cold and hard shine. He sensed his heart hammering and suddenly felt very vulnerable – vulnerable vis-à-vis his own emotions!

"I'm willing to support your research by any means you need," Deveraux had continued. "Under one condition: you won't come close to my daughter Claire again."

One second a crispy silence lasted in the room, already loaded with the energy ready to burst out. Peyton stared at the man, while his unbelievable 'offer' started filling his mind with anger. You can't do this to me! You can't! The next moment he was up and hurled against this man in his black suit with his stone heart – at least he tried it. A blinding pain shot through him, everything was spinning around him and he fell to his knees close to the bed, taking the infusion device with him.

=== Next Day ===

Because she had an appointment with one of her professors at the University, Claire came to the hospital only in the afternoon. After the awful discovery not to find Peyton in his usual room, she had been running from one nurse and medic to the other, only to find meagre excuses. What was going on here? Why did no one tell her what had happened? Eventually, she stormed into the office of the head physician and was surprised to get an answer without any resistance.

"I'm sorry, Miss Deveraux , you have to learn it that way," he said, not looking up from his papers until now. "There was an incident and –"

"What? An incident? And… and he is…" Claire felt numbness spreading in her.

"Mr. Westlake attacked your father…"

My father? What did he want here?

"…and then a medic who tried to hold him back," continued the head physician. "We had to sedate him and put him into restraints. Unfortunately…and despite our precautions…" He let out a short sigh, "Mr. Westlake escaped. This morning, supposedly. And we don't know where he is."

Claire did not know if she should be relieved or worried. Peyton was alive – but the circumstances were rather sinister. And whereto did he go, in his condition? She tried to put her racing thoughts in at least a little order. She didn't notice the door opening and her mother entering, until Anna Deveraux began to speak.

"Claire-darling…"

"Mom? What … are you doing here?"

"The nurse at the front desk called me when you showed up. She thought you might perhaps need some comfort. After these horrific news…"

Claire did not want her here, but at the moment she had not enough strength to discuss this or simply leave the office. "He can't have left this way… simply left…" she whispered.

"My poor little one, I know how you must feel." Her mother embraced her, but Claire could not return the gesture. All she was was concentrated on Peyton and why he had run away – again! Everything had seemed perfect, just yesterday!

"He can't have left! There is something bad going on, Mom! We must…must find him!"

"Claire-darling, I told you he is unpredictable, mentally unstable. All I ever wanted was spare you a moment like this! Come home with me."

There was something subconscious kicking in. She was too upset right now to let it come forward into her mind, but nevertheless, it rested a warning feeling. Something was wrong.

"I cannot come with you… sorry, Mom. I simply cannot."

"But – Claire!"

"I'm sorry," she repeated and walked out of the door and back into the hotel. She felt too exhausted to decide what to do. She wanted to be alone, that was all.

…

Hours went by, while Claire still tried figuring out what had happened, and why. The things she knew did not fit together. Peyton had attacked her father? But why should he have done this? What did her father want in the hospital anyway? She wondered if she should call him and ask but had the distinct feeling she wouldn't get any answer. Yes, something was wrong… Which reason Peyton could have to attack and then escape? A disturbed mind like her mother said? No, Claire didn't believe that! I know him. I know him and he would not do this without a cause, she repeated to herself. Especially not now, when the job at the University and the finishing of the research are within reach! This Reinitzer-guy had just called yesterday again! And his pets… Jerky and the four cats! He would never go and leave them alone! The longer the young woman sat at the window in the hotel room, the more she was certain of it. Perhaps they had made more 'tests' with him at the hospital and he had panicked and fled? I shouldn't have left him alone this day! I should've rescheduled this damned appointment!

It was nearly midnight, when Claire decided to look for Westlake at the one spot where he possibly would hide: the underground. She felt far less secure this time in walking through the tunnels now, than before, when she had come rescuing her father. Now everything seemed frightening again, and dark. Sometimes she thought to hear a voice in the distance. She called Peyton's name, but never got an answer. She began feeling silly and then she was afraid having lured out some bad people with her calls. However, no one except some rats crossed her way down. And she found Peyton's hiding place exactly as she had seen it the last time. An untouched chaos. Nonetheless, Claire looked in every dark corner. He was not here. This made her worrying even more. Where could he be in his condition? Had someone picked him up and hospitalized elsewhere? Or was he still out there on the streets, in this cold? Should she inform the police? Or rather not?

She climbed into the old subway wagon, where he had his old shelter, and huddled up in a corner, to find some warmth for herself.

=== Meanwhile / Medical Department of the University ===

The tall man had walked slowly down the street, from time to time seeking hold on the wall of a house or a fence. A young couple passing him made a comment about drunkards everywhere in the city. The man did not react. Eventually, he entered a doorway and headed towards a couple of still illuminated windows on the far end.

Yes, Hendrik Reinitzer was still a night shifter! And the past weeks even more, with all the papers of Varinapam to assort and prepare for his successor!

The last steps to the illuminated windows were difficult to master. Westlake leaned against the house for several minutes to recover a little, but the ice cold wind seemed to only take his breath. Snow fell. He had certainly not been in shape for a walk. However, the money Claire had left him in the hospital, had not been enough for a taxi ride nearly across New York! He clenched his teeth and stepped on. This was his last chance! He could not give up now!

Shortly after the bell of the laboratory section rang, and Dr. Reinitzer went to the door, silently cursing about who-the-hell was bothering him at 2 AM!

He opened yawning and his brain needed a second to grasp the view in front of him.

"Das kann nicht wahr sein-" in his surprise, he spoke German. He blinked. „Peyton? … Your face…"

"It's the last of my… unstable creations. I wanted to… to speak understandable…" His voice trailed of with the wind.

Realizing his unexpected guest was barely able to stand any longer, Reinitzer reached out, lent a supporting arm and helped him inside. "What are you doing here? Are you mad? You belong into a hospital bed, not out on the street? Do you want to kill yourself?"

"There's not much … left to kill…" Westlake sank on a chair and fought against the weakness. "Take me to Varinapam's computer, please. I did some… some calculations…"

"I'd rather call an ambulance, man! Cannot believe they let you out of the hospital!"

"Listen! Listen, Hendrik! I cannot go back! I need your help! I have to work! Please… don't let me down… this is the last chance … I have!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Let me start to work! I went over my old files… I did some calculations, I KNOW-"

"Peyton," Reinitzer grabbed him at the shoulders, "of course you will start to work here, if we have the okay from the Dean, and the funding! Of course you will, no questions. Calm down, okay? And now I call an ambulance…"

"Please… you know it can be done! I just need Varinapam's original files… the sequencing codes… please, let me work!"

"I can't, you know that. You can't simply walk in here and go on this computer and search through those files! I mean, this is sensitive material, and there are restrictions all around, I can't allow you! I would loose my position and you every hope of getting the job anyway. -Peyton, stop, you can't go in there! It's key-card secured!"

"So give me yours!"

"Don't you understand what I'm saying?" With a hasty move, Reinitzer was at Westlake's side again, who stood next to the glass door to the office, hands put on the wall for support.

"You don't understand… Let me tell you: Mr. Frank Deveraux, the man I rescued from these terrorists, 'offered' me something." He spat the word 'offering'. "He said he would manage I… get the position of Varinapam. And the … funding! If I stayed away from HIS DAUGHTER!" A short moment of silence followed this outburst, and then he added: "I can't betray her that way! But I will never reach results with stable samples WITHOUT Varinapam's files! And without stable samples I will never - … Don't you understand?" He was short before crying, yet alone of exhaustion. "Please let me work… Only some hours… No one has to know…"

"I can't! And you can't either, in your condition. I'm sorry."

Peyton had not enough strength to translate the desperate anger forming in him into outside force. He turned around, faced his ex-colleague one last time, but let the words coming into his mind unsaid. Reinitzer looked down like a reprimanded child. "I'm really sorry, it's just…" He shrugged. "I'm no one here… no one to make a decision…"

Westlake walked past him, holding himself upright with his last strength and went through the door. When Reinitzer realized he was no longer in the room, he sped to the entrance, and looked out, calling. But amidst the dense falling snow, nothing was to see anymore.