It was strange, the way he'd gotten himself in this situation.

As he waited for the bus, it started to pour. Duncan was starting to get confused, epically when it had started raining. There hadn't been a cloud in the sky. Then he started to think. Why did I come here? What's going on? Why is everything in black and white? He thought. I don't remember a bus on the island.

The bus pulled in, splashing through a puddle that had formed. Duncan slowly boarded the bus and took a seat next to a short woman who couldn't have been older than twenty.

"Uh, lady, can I sit here?" he asked the young woman. She just sat there, her chest moving up and down with every breath she took. Duncan noticed she was sleeping. He also noticed who it was…

"Beth? Is that you?" He asked, forgetting that she was unconscious. Beth just snored and continued to sleep. Duncan sighed and sat down. He still didn't know why he was here. It felt like his feet took him there.

When the bus reached the final stop, Duncan tried to stay put, but he found himself walking down the stairs on the bus. He hadn't realized that Beth had left some time ago. Against his will, Duncan walked over to a door. It had a textured glass window with "Private I." written on it with big black stickers. The window was also covered with duct tape in places. Duncan turned the doorknob and walked into the room. It was filled with smoke and he strained to see who the office belonged to.

"Whadaya want, kid? I'm past closing time. Come back tomorrow if ya want somethin'." A voice said. Duncan knew the voice, but it had gained a weird accent that he'd never heard before.

"You know what I want." Duncan heard himself say. He covered his mouth with his hand when he heard himself.

"Ya know, this ain't no playground, kid. What you're askin is nothin' but trouble. You better just give up now." The voice said. The smoke started to clear. Duncan could make out the figure. Tall. Female. Long, black hair.

"Now, listen, Heather," Duncan said. "You know I'm not that kinda person." What was he saying?

Heather laughed. Duncan saw a cigarette in her mouth.

"Ah, good ol' Duncan. You're dead set on this, aren't ya?" She leaned back in her chair, putting her feet on the table. "Sit down and we'll discuss this." Heather removed her cigarette and set it in an ashtray. She leaned forward, and so did Duncan. They were so close, their noses almost touched. "Listen, buddy. I've investigated this case for months now. I've tried. If we go any further in this case, well, we'll be in a crap load of trouble with the authorities. You should know, right?" Heather laughed and leaned back in her chair.

"Hey, don't mess with me." Duncan growled. "My love life is on the line."

Heather removed the cigarette once more, this time smothering it in the ashtray. "Duncan," She said. "Let's face it. Courtney doesn't love you anymore."

"I don't see why not," Duncan said, slightly sarcastically.

"Let's see… There's the fact that you two married at age eighteen, the fact that you've been in prison longer than your own home, and let's not forget-"

Duncan stood up, putting his hands on Heather's desk. "Don't overdo yourself."

"Kid, you're somethin' else, ya know that?"

Duncan turned to leave. Right before he opened the door, Heather stopped him.

"Hey, kid, the world's a mean place. Take care." She smiled and patted him on the shoulder. Duncan returned the smile and nodded.

"See ya." With that, he was gone.

"Hey, dude, wake up, Duncan…" Duncan thought he heard Geoff's voice.

"Hm? What?" Duncan sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes.

"Time to rise and shine, buddy," DJ said. Duncan then realized what had happened was a dream.

A very, very strange dream.

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