Hi peoples, thanks for reading this far. Usualy warnings, spelling, grammer, attack of the flash back monster...

Thanks to all reviewers!

On with the chapter!

Lance Sweets thought his apartment rather suited him. It wasn't exactly small, just sort of compact, filled with things that made it seen much more lived in than it actually was. Pictures, knick-knacks, dvds and cds, things to given to him by his parents, his family. Things that would remind him of them. It was a bit sad to cling to trinkets and memories, but they helped him cope, with their absence during stressful times. It was a nice apartment located in a nice part of the city. Not that, that helped Lance when he stepped over the threshold. He had managed to stave of tears when he was driving, not wishing to add car crash on his list of troubles, but as soon as he saw the smiling faces of himself, his mum and his dad, in a picture on the coffee table the proverbial dam broke. It wasn't a flood of raging built up emotion like in the movies. No, it was slow and silent. He just sat down on his couch and cried.

His father had once told him that it was a stupid man that thought himself too big to cry. His mother had once told him that someone who avoided life to avoid sorrow avoided joy. His parents had been smart people, smart wonderful people. They had done everything that they could, and more to make sure he had a good life and Lance felt that he was disrespecting that effort by how he was reacting to the 'Thomas' case. Thomas the year and a half of Hell before a lifetime of Heaven. So why did it hurt so much?

Maybe it was all just too much. His parents death, the stressful job, almost acceptance quickly dashed away by an act of betrayal, and now the reappearance of his childhood tormenter that apparently had the ability to traumatise him from beyond the grace. It was enough to drive anyone to despair.

Memories continued to flash through his mind, tortuously reminding him of the best and worst moments of his life.

Three-year-old Lance rummaging for food in the trash, his foster mother past out on the couch, a bottle in her limp hand.

Four-year-old Lance being lead away by Thomas trying not to squirm from the mans tight grip on his little hand.

Five-year-old Lance cowering in the corner, Thomas leering over him, holding a belt.

Six-year-old Lance, falling in to blissful emptiness, then waking up to beeps and blinding white lights.

Six and a Half year old Lance looking up from his corner at the extended had of Diane Sweets.

Eight-year-old Lance really laughing for the first time at his fathers antics while decorating the Christmas tree.

Ten-year-old Lance feeling truly cared for and loved as he watches some goofy movie with his parents, all of them under one blanket and sharing a bowl of pop corn.

Thirteen-year olds Lances awkward "Talk" with his father.

Fourteen-year-old Lance graduating from high school, fours years early, seeing his parents practically glowing with pride.

Sixteen-year-old Lance covered in garish make up, railing against society in an attempt to fill the black void in his stomach. Avoiding his mothers eye as he comes home. He feels guilty.

Seventeen-year-old Lance getting his act together and accepting his first doctorate.

Eighteen-year-old Lance trying to find his birth mother. When he does, he doesn't know why he tried to hard and calls his Real mother.

Twenty-two-year-old Lance sitting in hospital waiting room, a doctor appears from behind some doors to nowhere. When she apologises he finds he can't breath. Less than three weeks later, he finds himself in the exact same place. This time he collapses.

Twenty-three-year-old Lance being comforted by Dr Brennan and Agent Booth, bowling is actually quite fun. He defiantly hates fish.

He has friends now, almost. People he can talk to over pie at the diner. People who are just as different as he is.

Then he's hated again and Zack's a murderer.

Then there's Thomas again leering down a him from a computer after 16 years.

A knock on his door, a call from a familiar voice, jolts him from his memories.

He knew who it was and stayed sitting. He couldn't handle them right now.

There was another knock, another call and Lance just hugged his knee's tighter.

Aw Lance give them a chance...

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