A/N: So, about that meaning 300 instead of 400... but whatever! I am leaving for Wrestlemania today. I hate flying, so I wanted to update this before I left! Also, this is the last chapter. But there's gonna be an epilogue, don't you guys worry.

It all happened so fast, so it couldn't be a nightmare. Nightmares were slow, dark corners, hands reaching out to grab you. There were no jagged edges.

It was almost like a dream. Bright saturation, things coming out sideways, moving without meaning to, the constant fear of falling. Hazy corners.

"How does the defendant plea?"

"Guilty with reason of insanity."

She was in the back, eyes shadowed by sunglasses, a big hat. She didn't want to be noticed but everyone was looking at her anyway, the widow at her husband's funeral.

He turned his head slightly, caught her out of the corner of his eye.

She'd been asked to testify.

He looked all the way back, at her. Emotionless. A robot in a pressed white shirt.

She'd said no.

He faced forward again.

Strangers with an inside joke.

They were both smiling.

As of right now, reports are saying that WWE Superstar, Randy Orton's court case has determined he is guilty of third degree kidnapping. His sentence is up to six years in the St. Louis Mental Facility for rehabilitation as well as psychiatric evaluation. Details to follow.

A kidnapper. That's all he was.

He murdered four people.

But you can do anything when you're crazy.

Insanity beats rock.

"Kidnapping!" Jim beat his fist against the wall. "How much did he pay them?"

A dream. A scene in black and white, shaky camera angles, catching the light coming in from the window instead of the emotion on his face.

"I can't believe this! He got away with everything!" He smacked the paper against the table, once, twice, three times, and then he threw it, spilling coffee. Randy's face soaked up most of the liquid, head down, pushed through the crowd. "He got away with murder!"

He got away with murder.

He taught her everything she knew.

It started off simple.

Pages torn from old library books, just the scrap in the corner. It had been weeks, maybe months since she last saw him, last heard from him. And then one day... One day she opened the mailbox and there it was, in the rain and the gloom, sitting on top of the neatly stacked envelopes.

She opened the tiny note and smiled.

Together we can rule the world.

She figured she should dress up for the occasion. She remembered the way Randy was dressed, jeans and that tight shirt, she wanted him so badly, even then, when Jim still loved her.

Her shoes were noisy against the solid tile floors. The lights were brighter than her office, more like a hospital, with patients staring up at her as she walked the plank.

She needed to be escorted.

She felt like her hands were tied together.

Turns out they were.

"I can't believe you!" He was a whirlwind, spinning around her, tearing things from the bookcases, from the walls. They were everywhere, the tiny scraps, floating like leaves in the air. He was grabbing at them, reading the little notes, eyes blazing with something she couldn't quite see.

She stood, stoic, and just stared at the wall.

"Do you want to get yourself killed? Do you?" And then he was in front of her, shaking her, and that blaze in his eyes was the bits of love he was trying to hold onto. "Answer me, Lily!"

She averted her gaze, stared up at the picture of them on the wall. It was crooked.

She was still wearing her wedding ring.

"Are you comfortable, Lily?"

She was more graceful than Randy, more personable. Her legs crossed, elbows resting lightly on the arms of the chair.

But she didn't say a word.

She only smiled, the red of her lips pulling.

The crazy femme fatale.

"You fucked him, didn't you?"

Her eyes didn't stray, didn't twitch. She was the wall he was looking through, laughter dancing.

He shook her. "How many times?"

A scrap fell from his hands, landed on her feet.

Poison.

He slapped her. "Goddamn it, Lily, why!"

Because it didn't take long.

Because it was quick and painless.

Just like that.

"Do you love him, Lily?"

Lily cocked her head slightly. Her eyes did all the talking.

The doctor looked down at her notes. "Randy. Did you love him?"

First it was the present.

Then it was the past.

She should've asked if she was going to love him.

All the answers would've been the same.

It was time to send something back.

She'd started waiting by the mailbox, hoping to catch him. But no matter what time of day it was, she'd be standing alone, in the rain, in the cold, in the dark, in the sun. He never showed up until she left, until she closed her eyes for a second.

She almost thought he wasn't real.

She left him a scrap, from her favorite book. There was a haiku on the back.

It was so easy. You taught me everything I know.

In the morning it was gone.

A pressed Lily was in its place.

Lily started to laugh. It was slow at first, deep in her chest, and then it bubbled, hit her throat, broke past her shut mouth. Her eyes weren't laughing with it, though, they were dark, eyes on the bright window behind the desk.

The therapist looked up. "Why are you laughing, Lily?"

It died pretty quick, as all things do. Her fingers tightened against the arm rest slightly. "Because it's so funny, really."

Same taste in the air.

"What's so funny?"

"What I did." She uncrossed her legs, leaned forward, hands clasped between her knees.

Same stance.

The therapist frowned. She was bad at her job. "And what did you do?"

The hairs stood up on the back of her neck.

Eyes lifted, caught the light behind the woman's head.

"I murdered my boyfriend."

Same famous last words.

A/N: And things come full circle. Unless you guys consider an epilogue the actual last chapter, this is it. I could end it like this, but I figure Randy should be apart of it, although he tied everything together in this one. But alas, everyone wants a happy ending, so the epilogue will be the twisted romance everyone wants. Review, or I won't write it! :D