The view from the hospital bed was nice enough. He spent the early morning hours just watching joggers run along the river and the occasional boat drifting lazily past.

It was Dr. Randolph who came to him that morning.

"Have you remembered anything about last night?" Said the kindly older man.

"Some." He supplied back. "I was outside Wimples, wasn't I?"

"Yes." The doctor nodded. "Is that relevant?"

The young blonde boy's face wrinkled in pain as he fought back the tears and nodded. "I can't believe I went there!" He sobbed. "I don't know what I was thinking!"

The older man put down his clipboard and took a seat on the edge of the boy's bed, blocking the view of the boy from the hall just in case anyone walked past. "Why son, what is it? What makes Wimples Store so important?"

The boy sobbed again. "When… When I was… five… My mother… She said… Just wait here honey I'll be…" He swallowed and looked away before spitting the words: "She never came back! She went to… Vegas and … Married a trucker…"

The doctor swallowed once and laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "She just left you there?"

His face knotted and contorted in pain as he nodded again. "And… Yesterday… I was … Out, walking and… I just wanted someone to … talk to… I didn't want to be … alone for…" And he broke in to another sob and looked away.

The doctor squeezed his shoulder affectionately.

"But there was no one to talk to!" He shook all over. "All my friends… Gone to college and …" He sobbed again. "I'm … alone…" His voice dropped to a whisper. "…again."

A twinge of guilt passed through the boy's body when he looked over and saw that Dr. Randolph was crying. He hadn't meant to lay it on quite that thick.

"Do you know why you hurt yourself son, why you were shouting all those things?"

Again he nodded, less enthusiastically this time. "When she left, I kept inventing excuses…" He whispered. "Any reason why she… didn't come back… Anything to make me think… It wasn't my … my fault." He took a very deep breath. "And when I realized… that I was just … lying to myself… I …"

"You hurt yourself." The older man finished for him. "I see." He paused. "There's a group therapy session in just under a half hour." He smiled through the tears. "A lot of people there find it hard to be alone during the holidays. I'm sure that they'd understand if you felt like sharing, and if not, that's fine too because I'm sure they'd appreciate the company just as much."

"I'd like that." He said at last.

"Good." The doctor smiled and undid his leather straps. "If you behave yourself until then, you can come."

"I will."

The Doctor stood up slowly and left the room.

Sucker!!! He thought.

A flicker of movement outside caught his attention. It was two children having a snowball fight. He watched them, quietly, smiling. And the time passed quickly.

His smile faded quickly however upon entering the group therapy session.

Most of the patients were heavily drugged. Many didn't seem to know where they were or why. Some of the more active ones were paranoid, jittery or in one case - ranting and raving uncontrollably.

Worse yet, they were almost all there and he didn't see what he was looking for…

And just when he was ready to give up and blow his top, it happened.

Dr. Randolph came in, his grandfatherly smile upon his face, pushing a wheelchair with a single, strait-jacketed patient. He slipped the chair and it's overly medicated occupant in to the circle and took an empty seat.

"Now, I know this might seem strange to some of our newer friends…" He began.

"Newer?" A dark eyed man replied thrusting a finger at John. "He's the only new person here. I know everyone here and I don't know him!"

"Easy Derek. I was just getting to that."

"Can… can I have a cigarette?" John asked slowly. "It helps… steady my nerves."

The doctor considered for a long moment. "Well, since it is Christmas Eve and all… I don't see the harm in sharing one…" And he drew out a cigarette and disposable lighter. "I'm trying to quit myself…"

"Can…" John reached slowly. "I just … I like the first puff…"

The doctor smiled. "Okay." And he handed him the lighter and cigarette.

"That! That's preferential treatment!" Derek wailed. "I want a drag!"

"You don't smoke Derek." The doctor told him.

"NEVER THE LESS!" Derek assured him.

The lighter was a light blue Bic. John held it up to the light to see how much fluid it had inside.

"Maybe…" John caught their attention. "Maybe we should all quit… Today. After all… Smoking is as dangerous as… Well… As fire itself." And he struck the lighter's wheel.

The flame leapt up and took the form of a dragon. He couldn't help himself, he burst out laughing maniacally. It felt good.

It felt honest.

The dragon turned towards the drapes and breathed fire at them. They were thin and linen. They caught immediately. And it was all he needed.

Many of the patients scattered. Many more just sat there mesmerized.

"DOCTOR!!! I'M HALLUCINATING AGAIN!!!" Derek screamed out, grabbing some of the less mobile patients and drawing them back away from the flames.

Orderlies scattered for fire extinguishers and the doctor gasped but remained rooted on the spot.

John closed his eyes for just a moment and focused his will upon the windows. He heard the flames hiss with rage and the glass explode outward. Then he made his move.

He drew the fire from the curtains out around him and made it form a snake that coiled around him and slithered in between anyone who approached him. He dove for the girl in the wheelchair and grabbed her up, hefted her over his shoulder and ran for the shattered windows.

"Wait!" The doctor yelled out. "I can help you!"

He cast a glance back. "No, you cant. I've been lying to you about almost everything." He paused in guilt at his admission. "But… thanks anyway." And he dove with his prize out the second story window and landed with a thud in the thick, wet snow below.

He scooped her up and then… He hesitated. With a flicker of his mind he extinguished the flames in the room. Then, he ran until his lungs hurt and his bare feet bled. But he had done it. They had gotten away.