A/N: Hey guys, I'm not dead :P . Sorry about the long wait. I've been caught up in all my studies. In fact, I'm about to study for my French Coursework right now! Also, you guys should look at The Inheritance Project on YouTube by MalteWegmann. They are absolutely amazing so, please, give it a listen. Just wanted to thank my two biggest supporters before continuing- InnocentIthinknot and Dream Plane. I hope you guys are still there and not tooooo mad at me. Well, the show must go on!

Disclaimer: If I owned The Inheritance Cycle, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction.

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Murtagh couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the redhead standing before him. A torrent of emotions were cascading through him right then. How was a person supposed to feel in such a situation? It wasn't like if he could just go up to him and say 'Hey buddy, how's it going? Listen, I know it's been a year since we last saw each other but I need some help to make sure I don't die or go to jail forever for stabbing my bastard father to death. Got any suggestions?' Let alone talk to him, he wasn't allowed to stand since they chained him to the damn table.

While all these thoughts were going through his head, Thorn had made his way across the dark room to his chair and began scrutinising him. When his best friend's eyes landed on his arms, he shifted them self-consciously and asked the question that had been stuck in his throat for the past few minutes.

"Why are you here?" he whispered.

What surprised him was when Thorn took hold of his left shoulder- the one with his bandaged scar- and asked, "To hear the truth."

He felt so wretched.

He never deserved Thorn's goodness or compassion. Even now he wondered why Thorn had chosen to sit with the lonesome child in the corner on that first day of primary school, rather than play with the crowd beckoning to him. Thirteen years later, his best friend still had that unwavering sense of loyalty and compassion.

Murtagh wanted nothing more than to tell Thorn everything but something made him hold his tongue. Keeping to yourself all the time has its perks. You learn to observe everyone and everything around you, taking in every detail and over-analyzing all possibilities. You learn not just to look, but see. From as young as three, Murtagh learnt the most important one of all- not only to see things for what they are, but trust in his own judgement and instinct over everything else.

His eyes rested on the grey ceiling tile above him and let out a low cynical laugh.

"Don't you see?" Murtagh asked, leaning forward. His gaze was now firmly interlocked with Thorn's. When he spoke again, his voice had a hint of anguish to it, finishing with a small growl "Anything I say can and will be used against me. If you think anyone regarded me with anything other than caution and disdain in the past, well...let's just say they won't take too kindly to a schizophrenic maniac."

It seemed as if Thorn were about to say something but he forced his eyes away from the redhead. When they landed on his handcuffs, he saw the reflection of the observation mirror behind him and imagined the numerous psychiatrists and police, no doubt behind it. For a moment, the pain was clear in his voice as he challenged the world to disagree with him.

"Where were you the times when I was the victim?! I guess I never stopped being the victim, actually. No doubt that demon's money is flowing through this corrupted the system, right... RIGHT?!"

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Thorn wasn't having any of it. He stomped towards the side of his best friend's chair and shook him by the shoulders. He slapped Murtagh across the face before yelling at him.

"Of course there is you dumbass! But the person behind there is innocent. He's a lawyer- your uncle Tornac- that I got to be your defense but how are we supposed to help you if you don't tell us how?!"

Thorn thought he had finally gotten the message through Murtagh's thick skull. As he would soon see, only half of what he said did.

Briefly, he saw a single tear run down Murtagh's left cheek before he turned away.

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He waited until the tear rolled into his hoodie before focusing back on Thorn's forehead. He knew that if he looked him in the eyes, whatever little composure he had left would crumble.

'Abandoned by all; Nothing more than a thorn in their side to be plucked' he thought. Where was his uncle all those years when he needed him? Most likely hiding away from him. Of course he would've preferred to stay away from the demon child that 'caused' the death of his cousin. After his mother's death, all of her family no longer visited- including her brother. So why should he?

"Leave while you still have the chance. I've burdened you enough already" he deadpanned.

He heard brief sections of Thorn's voice pleading for reason but Murtagh couldn't process any of what the redhead was telling him. Ignoring the voice of his best friend, he muttered, "A burden is all I've ever and will ever be."

For the last time in what was soon to be weeks, he listened to Thorn's voice- "Not to me."

"I'm sorry, Thorn. For everything I've ever'" at this point he chuckled darkly, "and will ever do."

Thorn's protests fell on deaf ears as Murtagh continued with his plan.

I'm coming mother.

He pulled his head up and slammed it into the steel table at 30 kilometers per hour. Repeatedly, he felt the searing pain in his temples. At some point, hands tried to restrain him but they couldn't stop the cyclone of his anger. When all else failed, tendrils of electricity burst across his lower back and neck simultaneously.

All sounds around him drifted into the background, just muffled noises. His vision went black as he entered the one sanctuary he had left: his mind. Hazy thoughts swirled around him as his body went numb. Closing his eyes contentedly, he let the darkness take him.

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Thorn couldn't believe what just happened. He stood there frozen as his best friend tried to kill himself- and he'd been powerless to do anything except watch.

Five seconds in, some police officers burst through the door. They kept trying to stop him and hold him back but their hands had no effect on him. Hands calloused and delicate alike could not wrangle the beast of his insanity. And how do you rein in any wild animal? Why, by inflicting pain, of course.

Apparently, two of the officers had the same idea. Like two parts of the same being, they whipped out their tasers and shot strong bolts of electricity at Murtagh's neck and just below his scar. Thorn watched as they dragged the limp form of his best friend out the door- all the while, still paralyzed with shock.

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I will try to post the new chapter very soon. And, as an apology for the long wait, the next chapter will feature a new POV. Don't forget to review!