A/N: Ringing in the new year with another chapter. Lol. This chapter's just Past, by the way. Like I said before, there's a lot more to cover there, and if I'm not careful I'll get ahead of myself. Lol.

Chapter 7

Past:

Still curled up by the door. That seemed to be where I was going to spend the night, I guess. The pizza was long gone at this point, of course. All I could do was sit there, and wait. For what, I couldn't tell you, but that's all I seemed to be doing these days. Waiting.

After a long time, Paul came back into the cell and cleared away the dishes. When he returned from putting them away, he sat on the bed, his hands clasped loosely in front of him, and just looked at me.

That's all. We sat there for what felt like forever, staring at each other, and not saying anything. To tell you the truth, by this point I was afraid to open my mouth. Beyond pathetic, I knew that, but I couldn't help it. You'd be afraid to, after the beatings I'd had to go through while sitting in there, locked up like some animal (A/N: hehe, got that idea from Breaking.Benjamin's review. XD -gives credit-).

Finally, Paul sighed. "Do you know what the crystal does, Suze?"

I didn't even know what crystal he was talking about, and I'd told him so, more times than I could count. But instead of saying that again, I just shook my head and waited for him to continue.

"Mind control," Paul said, smiling ironically. "The sort of thing you'd read in some science-fiction novel." He shook his head. "I'm surprised Jesse didn't tell you all about it after he swiped it from me. Unless…" he tilted his head to look at me. "Unless, of course, he's been using it on you."

I gaped at him. Was he serious? Of course he was, I thought, he obviously believed every word that he was saying, otherwise he wouldn't be holding me here. Right? Of course that was right.

Then again, it was Paul.

"Mind control's not possible," I croaked, finally. After a beat, I added, "And Jesse wouldn't do that."

Paul smiled. "I didn't expect you to be quite so naïve, Suze. He's certainly had it long enough to use it. And it must be hard to resist." He shrugged. "In a matter of moments, he could have the perfect wife, if he wanted to."

I shifted uneasily, not liking at all where this was going. "He wouldn't do that."

Paul shrugged again. "Maybe. I doubt you'd be able to tell, anyway." He stood from the bed and came toward me, his hand reaching into his pocket as he stopped in front of me. "Whatever the case, he has it, and I want it back." He pulled an object out of his pocket, though I couldn't see it clearly at the moment. My head was starting to spin. "There's only one way that I can see him handing it over, and… well, sorry about this, Suze."

I couldn't move, wedged against the door, and he was blocking the only direction I could have moved anyway. All I could was watch dumbly as the knife Paul had been holding came down toward me.

A wreck. That's what Joe said Jesse had turned into. He was probably right, Jesse thought, as he sat on the somewhat-repaired-couch in the living room, staring sightlessly at the muted television. That was most of what he had done for the past week. He hadn't slept, he'd barely eaten, and the phone rang off the hook after he yanked the answering machine's cord out of the wall following a particularly painful conversation with his in-laws.

That was about four days ago.

The police had come, searching the apartment for clues and questioning Jesse. He couldn't tell them very much. Nothing they would believe, anyway.

While he was still answering his phone, Joe had called. Jesse would give his friend that much—he was trying to be sympathetic. Suze was his friend as much as Jesse was, and he was worried about the both of them. But even then he couldn't understand. Not really.

"Jesse."

Turning, Jesse saw his friend standing in the doorway, as if he had conjured him up. "What are you doing here?" He glanced at the open front door. "How did you get in?"

"You left the door unlocked," Joe said, stepping further into the room. "Not exactly a safe way to go, Jess."

Jesse snorted derisively, turning back to the television. "What does it matter now?"

He heard Joe sigh. Joe took a seat in a chair next to the couch. He motioned at the beer bottles on the floor. "Trying to get yourself drunk?"

"Trying would be the operative word."

Joe nodded. "I see." There was a long pause. Then, "Have you been out at all?"

Jesse motioned to the beer, of which all but one of the bottles were still full. "I went to the store earlier. Took a walk."

Joe nodded again. "Walking's good," he said, not terribly helpfully.

They sat in silence for a long time, watching the soundless television. Finally, Jesse sighed, leaning forward. "Why are you here, Joe?"

"Ah, right." Joe cleared his throat. "I thought you might want to know. Found out our final scores." He smiled at Jesse grimly. "Congratulations, my friend, we're going to be doctors after all."

Jesse didn't respond. Deep down, he knew he should be elated. This was what he had always wanted. This was what he had been dreaming of for as long as he could remember. But he just felt empty.

Susannah was gone. Little else seemed to matter.

When Joe finally left, Jesse stood warily, turning off the TV. He should try sleeping again. Maybe this time he would actually succeed.

Jesse went into the bedroom for the first time since he had come home. He turned on the light and blinked. There was something on the bed. When he moved closer, he realized it was a piece of paper. He lifted it up, only to reveal a knife, dug into the bed. A very bloody knife.

Shaking violently, Jesse turned the paper over to read the words written there.

Bring me the crystal before more people you care about get hurt.—P.S.

A couple days later, I awoke, laying on the bed. Paul had deposited me there after coming at me with the knife. I winced, sitting up and pressing a hand to the bloody bandage over my arm. Of all the places to aim for…

I could move now, at least. Paul had pretty much left me alone since the other night. Meals still showed up at the same time, though there wasn't anymore pizza.

It took me a moment to focus on the room around me, and that's when I realized something very important.

The door was open.

I stared at it. It had to be a trick, I reasoned. There was no way that Paul could have forgotten to close and lock it. He was trying to trick me… Wasn't he? I eyed the doorway for a long moment, thinking about it. If he was trying to trick me, he would be waiting for me the moment I stepped out of the cell. But if he wasn't…

I struggled to stand, and made my way to the doorway. I peeked out, looking around. I was in the middle of a long hallway, I realized. Everything that I could see in the hallway had obviously not been used in a long time—there was a thick layer of dust over everything.

I moved further out, keeping an eye out for Paul. When he didn't suddenly pounce on me, I started in the direction I hoped led to the outside. As soon as I got out of here, I promised myself for what had to be hundredth time, I would go to the cops. And then I'd find Jesse.

As I was passing by a doorway—the only one I could see—I heard Paul call, "Suze."

I stopped, turning to face the doorway. Paul was sitting in a chair across the room, smiling at me. He motioned for me to come in. I willed my feet to move away from him, but they seemed to have a mind of their own, and then I was walking into the room.

Paul's smile seemed to deepen. "Come here, Suze," he entreated, holding out his hand.

I felt suddenly very cold as I stopped in front of him. Oh, God. My head was pounding. This couldn't be what I was beginning to think it was. No.

Paul reached out to pull me closer. I flinched. Paul continued to grin at me. "Come on, Suze, I'm not going to hurt you," he said silkily.

I stared at him. "Did he give you the crystal?" I asked suddenly, feeling like my head was going to explode. Oh, God, what was wrong with me?

Paul started rubbing his hand up and down my uninjured arm. "What are you talking about, Suze?"

I couldn't think. It felt like I was trying to hold onto something, but each time I tried to grab for it, it slipped out of my reach. Why couldn't I think? "Did he—"

Paul pulled me even closer, until all I could see was his face. "Who, Suze?"

My head was starting to clear. Nothing could be wrong, a part of me reasoned. Not when he was looking at me like that, and seeming so sweet… And then my head stopped pounding, and the niggling feeling in the back of my mind faded, until I just stood there, blinking at him.

"I don't know," I said. "No one."