Hey guys, what's up? Um, sorry about the, like, month wait between updates, but I have had a lot of . . . stuff going on. But I'm here now, and I made this chapter longer than usual as a special treat! I know, it's not really that long, but it's longer than any of my previous chapters, so there you go!

And don't forget to review! I hope you people haven't forgotten about me . . .

Read!

Their eyes locked for a long time. Finally, he broke the gaze and, once more, stared at the counter.

"Truth," he said, as if tasting out the word. "Truth was barely ever known to me. It's like a distant memory, far back in the confines of my mind and soul. The lies and betrayal within my life has made me untrusting to the truth. I can see it, though, but I don't believe it."

She sat, awaiting patiently. Her inhuman stillness made him think sometimes that she was a statue of pure ivory, but when he gazed into the depths of her eyes, it made him think that they were stirring with a life of their own. Swirling violets, amethysts, and lavenders ––– they were alive with fiery beauty.

He noticed absently that she never blinked. This strange and mystifying aspect only added to her mystery.

"I have been deceived many times," he explained, continuing to proceed. "The deception still lingers throughout my memories and haunts me in my fitful sleep. I can't escape it."

She sat, even then, impossibly still. Her back was straight and her hands folded in her lap. She looked frozen in that position, never to move again. She suddenly began to turn her head slowly in almost a mechanical motion. Continue, she pressed.

He blinked in surprise, like a statue had just come to life. She resumed her normal stance, and he proceeded. "The Doom Patrol was a group of four heroes, and–––"

Five, she said.

"Huh?"

There were five. Her head turned to him once more and looked into his hollow eyes. He suddenly understood what she meant. He was the fifth.

He looked down. "I was no hero," he hissed forcefully, angrily. It wasn't anger at her, but instead, himself. He glared at the counter as if it was the cause of all his troubles. His teeth were gritted and his fists were tightened. He was nearly trembling in fury.

Why? she asked innocently.

Immediately, his expression changed. His hands went limp, and his teeth no longer grinded against one another. His eyes beheld not anger ––– but confused misery. "I–––" he stuttered unintelligently, as if he had never before contemplated the reason. Then he grew firm again. "You wouldn't understand," he replied carelessly.

She allowed him to drop the topic, but she refused to let him stop telling his story. Go on with your story.

He looked at her and sighed. How long was this going to go on for? Still, he didn't have much of a choice. "Memories of the Doom Patrol are –– distantly happy. I even started to –– like it. Love had been lost years before, but then it took on a new form. They couldn't replace my family, but . . . there seemed to be a special place for them in my life, you know? I didn't understand it at first, but then it grew on me."

His eyes wandered around the room slowly, as if deep in memory. It almost seemed like he was watching a movie of memories play before him, that only he could view. His fingers tapped lightly on the counter, an old habit that hadn't resurfaced for a long time.

"But –– but I couldn't hang on to them," he whispered, eyes continuing to gaze far off. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. He tried to blink them away, refusing to let them spill forth. "But I always knew it. I knew it all along. They wouldn't be there forever."

The tapping of his fingers became rapid and stressful. "They –– they became my family," he choked. "They were all I had . . . the only ones to love me." Tears once more threatened to brim from his eyes onto his cheeks. "I lost them," he whispered. "And it's all my fault."

She gazed over at him solemnly, watching the pain gnaw at him. Vicious wolves tearing at his heart . . .

She observed carefully and intently, analyzing the anguish that overwhelmed him. It was curious to see such devastation take over a human soul. Why did they express such emotions? Her comprehension was fuzzy, yet she understood perfectly.

Human life is affected much by emotion, and can be extinguished in an instant. Whether it be a knife or a broken heart, one's soul could be pierced and disappear. Feelings of one's mind and heart intertwined and battled over another, twisting in an eternal dance of balance. Human life was ultimately governed by one's heart –– the source of all feeling.

What she didn't understand were the emotions themselves. What is happy?

He breathed deep and slow, attempting to regain control. He hated doing this. He hated remembering. He hated reliving the pain that already haunted him everyday of his pitiful existence. Exhaling, he started up again.

"Mento was the leader. He was perfectly fit for the job, too, very commanding and such. I think he forgot what was really important, though."

Participating, she asked, What?

"I think that he became so focused and concerned about the crimes and everything, that he forgot to, you know ––– care. Reminds me of someone else I used to know . . ."

Though her facial expression did not change, her eyes gave him a questioning look. He responded accordingly, though avoiding mentioning the painful memories of his somewhat more recent past. "When Mento got into a mission, it was as if the lives of his teammates weren't important anymore. That . . . his own life ––– just wasn't important." He looked down sadly. "But he was almost–––just almost–––like a second father to me. Even though he looked like a strict, unforgiving man, I almost believed that he was as loving as you or . . . me . . ." This last part drifted off slowly in delayed realization. He shook it off.

"Anyway, he was a great leader nevertheless. We always got the job done, one way or another.

"Then there was Sharon, known commonly as Elasti-girl. She was amazing ––– she was the woman who saved me, remember? Yeah, that was her. I ––– I had a strange relationship with her. She was just like a mother, and a sister, and most importantly, like a friend." She continued to watch him, waiting for indication of emotion. He sat there, looking away, distant from himself and the universe. She observed his chest move slowly up and down . . . up . . . down . . . up . . . down . . . . This was such a normal motion for humans that it passed as unnoticed. But she, the girl with the extensive, iridescent white hair and brilliant purple eyes, was fascinated and, though she would never commit to admittance, envious. To be human . . . to have . . . to have a soul . . . .

She listened. She listened hard. But no matter how much she strained, she could not hear her heartbeat. His was distant and weak, but it still existed. She felt nothing.

Why? she whispered silently. Though she didn't intend it to, the word brushed softly against his mind. Brought out of his trance, he looked over at her, a confused expression on his face, with a twinge of worry.

"Huh?" he asked quietly, as if disturbing something.

Nothing, she lied. It was nothing. Please continue.

His eyes lingered on her for several more seconds as if sensing her lie, but then he turned back, pupils now fixed on the blank wall ahead of him.

"Sharon was the closest I had in the team. The others were nice enough, but she had that motherly affection, friendly smile, and comforting voice, you know? Just being around her made me feel . . . better, I suppose.

"She was a good fighter too. Strong and determined to never give up. I think her optimism may have rubbed off on me a little, even if it didn't last long. I felt ––– hopeful around her. And maybe, just maybe, for a few minutes of my new life, I was happy."

He let out a small laugh, however bitter it was. "I wish I remembered what that felt like." He ran his fingers through his hair, and to untrained eyes, it might seem like he was merely brushing his shaggy green hair out of his equally green eyes. However, the girl could see it. His fingernails were digging into his scalp, in a distressed and desperate attempt to relieve anger, stress, and confusion.

She suddenly had a sudden surge of brief, but vivid emotion. It was such a strange, unfamiliar sensation; she was startled to say the least. For a second, one fleeting moment, she felt like . . . like . . . like she should comfort him. Pat his back and say it wasn't his fault. Put an arm around him and tell him it was okay. Place her hand over his and murmur soothing words into his ear . . . .

Her eyes widened slightly. He didn't notice, too far gone. Why did she think of such a thing? Why . . . why was she feeling?

Before she knew it, he was looking at her. "What's wrong?" he asked harmlessly.

What he didn't know was that everything was wrong. And getting more wrong by the second.

There was lot more revealing of the girl in this chapter, wasn't there? Hmm . . . maybe I shouldn't have revealed that much . . . it might ruin the mysteriousness about her . . . oh well, by the time you read this, it will already be posted. So don't forget to review, people!

I said DON'T FORGET.

SO DON'T.