The table turned round and round, faster and faster. The top of his head felt as if it would roll off…. a heavy, dead weight. His stomach contracted, a slow, painful upheaval, but there was nothing left for him to vomit. They'd tied him to the table, which was a joke, if only they knew…he didn't have the strength to get down on his own, much less fight. Or maybe they thought he would just roll bonelessly off with the turn of the wheel…a faint smile ghosted across his dry mouth at the thought.

What he wanted, more than anything in the world, was a drink of water. He swallowed convulsively, hearing the hard, dry click in his head. Sweat beaded his upper lip and forehead as he opened his eyes briefly, roused, yet finding nothing to focus on. Just as well. There was nothing he cared to see here, anyway… again his smile flitted across cracked lips, beginning to split, oozing blood. He didn't notice. He'd quit reacting to pain hours ago…or was it days?

He opened his eyes again. Now he was standing, bent at the waist, shoving the wheel around, pushing it faster and faster. He felt wonderful, strong. In control. He was in control now. He pushed harder, grunting with the effort, and glanced down at the table. Liska was tied there, spread-eagled, bloodied. The wheel began to slow. He knelt closer to her, waiting, as the wheel gradually came to a stop. "Tell me who helped you…" he breathed slyly, low into her ear.

Burke's eyes flew open. Quickly he lunged to his feet and strode out of the dark room just as Alan's eyes opened. Alan stumbled up, following him, stopping as Ann stepped out from the kitchen in her night clothes. Burke opened the patio door quickly, unaware of the two behind him.

Alan smiled hurriedly at Ann, then gestured Burke's way, intent on following. Ann stopped him with a hand to his shoulder and he stopped, eyes inquiring. "Let me talk to him, Virdon," said softly.

Alan looked at her appraisingly. "He's had a hard time lately, Ann. I'm not sure what I can do for him…but I have to try." Again, he started towards the door.

"I think I can help him. Alan," she said, still softly. "I'd like to help him. I've helped him before."

Again Alan stopped and looked at her, considering. "All right. You know where I am if he needs me," he said quietly.

She nodded, walking through the door and out into the fresh air. Burke perched on a stone table, feet on the bench, eyes pressed into his hands. A faint breeze ruffled his wavy hair. He jerked upwards, startled, as the door opened. He saw Ann and his expression relaxed into a sullen look.

"You're having some troubles, Burke," she commented quietly.

He made a harsh noise which caught in his throat. "Guess you could say that," he said tightly.

"You're having dreams again?"

He glanced at her briefly. "Look, I really don't think this will help anything, Ann. Although I appreciate the effort," he added, trying to be polite.

"Well, help me, then. My only son is out there, somewhere - if he's not been caught - trying to convince my nephew not to commit a suicide that I've helped lead him towards," she said, catching his brown eyes with her own.

Pete uttered a hard laugh and looked into Ann's eyes. He rubbed his upper lip, then looked at her again and shook his head. "What a pair we make, huh?" he said, more quietly.

"I'd say so. Quite a pair. Now what is it you've been dreaming about?" she asked.

"You're not one for the subtle approach, are you?" he asked, one side of his mouth lifting up.

"Directness has its virtue. Don't change the subject," she admonished.

He smiled a sarcastic smile. "It's nothing, really. Just dreaming about a girl who died because of me. Nothing to concern an ape."

"You forget very quickly, Burke. I suppose I'll have to remind you, then. It was in the home of apes that you recovered from Wanda's tortures. Do you think I'd let you stay here if I weren't convinced you were worth saving? Especially after you pulled that knife on me," Ann added tartly.

Burke laughed unwillingly. "Hey, I told you I was sorry about that. I was… confused. Thought you were Wanda." His eyes darkened at the thought.

"I'm not Wanda. I'm Ann, Galen's mother, and independent of my feelings for my son, I have grown somewhat attached to you and Virdon. Against my better judgment," she added severely.

Burke stared at her, then smiled faintly and sighed. "I know, Ann. I'm sorry. It's just that things are a little mixed up in my head right now."

Ann snorted. "A little? I think more than a little. Irregardless," she continued. "I know nothing of the woman who died, Burke. Nothing of the situation. But I know you, somewhat… and I know that whatever happened to her was not something you did. Perhaps something you did indirectly," she continued, holding up her hand as he started to protest, "helped bring about this death…but it isn't something you would have had a hand in. Except maybe in your own mind."

"You don't know that!" he exclaimed, glaring at her. "You don't know me at all!"

"I know more than you think I know. You're quite the one to talk in your delirium," she said firmly, staring him down. "And I know something even more important than that. I know you can't bear to let your friends down. And you think you have. But they are merely waiting for you, not condemning you. Waiting for you to get better…and hoping they know how to help."

Burke looked at her incredulously, then offered her a sideways smile. "You obviously haven't seen Galen giving me down the road," he said wryly.

She looked quizzically at him. "Don't throw any of that garbage at me like you do Galen. It won't divert me," she said.

"Garbage? Throwing garbage? You've been around me too much, Ann," he said, grinning. "What garbage are you referring to?"

"You constant obscure references stemming from the time-period you and Virdon came from. You do it in order to distract my son, and intrigue him, and irritate him. It won't work with me," she said firmly.

Burke smirked at her. "That's terrific - just what I need right now, another ape psychologist."

Ann stared at him silently. "Very well," she said evenly, and got up to leave.

Burke rubbed his forehead wearily. "Listen, I'm sorry. Really. I'm just…tired."

"And striking out at everyone who would help," pointed out Ann, sitting back down.

"It's just… I don't think I can be helped right now, okay? Not until I can…" he trailed off.

"Until what?" Ann asked him, eyes narrowing. Burke remained silent, staring at her a moment before looking away.

"Until I can make things better," he said, unwillingly.

"How are you going to do that? I'd like to know - if not for your sake, then for Galen's."

His brown eyes came swiftly up to meet hers. "Whatever I have in mind, your son won't be present. Okay?" He got up to leave, then sighed at the stricken look on her face. "I really messed things up, you know?" he said after a moment. He stood still, looking down at her wistfully. "I don't know how to make it better. But I'm gonna try."

He turned to leave. Startling herself, Ann reached out and grasped his hand. "Be careful, Burke." He turned and looked down at her hand in some wonderment. "Contrary to what you sometimes tell yourself, you do make a difference. For the better. And besides - who would I joke with if you weren't around, every once in a while? Yalu?" she wrinkled her muzzle, smiling at him.

His eyes were warm as he smiled back. "I'll have to keep that in mind, Ann," he said, and patted the furry hand grasping his own. Suddenly he reached over and hugged her. After a moment's hesitation, she brought her arms around and patted his back lightly. "I'll keep it in mind… okay?" he repeated, and letting go of her, opened the door and headed back into Galen's old room.

Ann stared after him, wondering what he thought he could do to make things better. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like it.