Sebastian:

He is lying on his back. Darkness surrounds him, holding him down like a straitjacket. There's a sharp pain in his head, his breathing is difficult and he knows he is going to die soon. And he isn't afraid of the darkness or the pain or his impending death, but he doesn't want to die without her, the one who's always been there. She is the demon who leans casually over his shoulder and goads him into unspeakable acts, and the secretly vulnerable sister whose hand he squeezed under the table at the birthday dinner, while her mother ranted about her weight. And he is in an incoherent state and has no names for what he feels, but he needs to hear her mocking laugh above him, to feel her nails digging into his flesh. Hovering near him is a blur of yellow and white like some impersonal angel, a blank emissary from heaven's bureaucracy, her voice an annoying buzzing sound. He is alone. No matter how many strangers are around him, he is alone. He slips further into despair, and then into coma.

I wake up to find my "family", if you can call it that, arrayed by my bedside. At the head of the bed is Annette, my angel. Her eyes are red and puffy, like she's been crying for hours. For me, no doubt she's been worried sick about me. It's one of the things I love most about her, such innocent honesty and openness of feeling.

At the side of the bed stand Edward and Tiffany—just the thought of calling them my parents makes me want to vomit—Tiffany obviously pissed off at having to leave the mayor's charity luncheon early, Edward not-so-subtly eyeing the young nurse.

And at the foot of the bed is...Kathryn. Perfectly composed; as always. I try to read her expression. Can't.

Annette notices right away when I open my eyes. Edward and Tiffany don't notice a thing. I think Kathryn sees it, she sees everything, but she gives no sign. "Sebastian..." Annette says softly. Her face cracks into a smile but it's a shy, hesitant one. She isn't jumping up and down with glee. She looks broken inside, dead inside, dead used broken like all the other girls I've fucked and thrown away.

"Your family's all here."

Ah yes, my wonderful loving family. "I'm awake, you idiots," I say, meaning for it to come out smooth and caustic but my voice is not my friend here, it sounds pathetically weak and hoarse from disuse. Edward turns around mutters "Glad you're still with us son," goes back to staring at the nurses. What Tiffany does is worse: she makes a big fuss, coos over my recovery with insincere delight. And Kathryn joins in. The concerned sister act.

Something is wrong here, but I'm having trouble figuring out what. The pain makes it hard to concentrate.

The memories come back, but slowly. Vague confused dreams of being trapped and needing something, probably air, given the pain I feel right now whenever I try to breathe. Before that, the accident. Ronald angry about something, but he's nothing more than a pawn—Kathryn sent him. Then Annette coming by and me jumping in front of the car to save her, that's right I nearly died just to save you Annette so why aren't you happy you ungrateful bitch?

"I'm just glad that you're okay," I tell Annette. "I was so worried when you came in front of the car like that...you're the light of my life and I wouldn't want to live a second without you." I'm speaking to her but my focus is on Kathryn, who I glance at out of the corner of my eye. It's exactly the kind of speech most likely to make her throw up. But she doesn't blanch in horror or make any sarcastic comments, just keeps that fake concerned look on her face, even shows a little half smile, not a knowing smile or a vicious one or any of her real ones but an adoring I'm-so-happy-for-you look, the kind of sweet platonic smile normal sisters give their real brothers.

I should tell her to leave. The bitch almost got me killed, after all.

Should.

Should.

My angel's face lights up when she hears my words, and I'm glad I could do this much at least because I don't ever want her to suffer. She's beautiful, and mine. She caresses my hair—I don't feel anything. Kathryn's still wearing the same look. Did I say Annette looked dead inside? I didn't mean it. Annette is very much alive, just sad. Kathryn's the one who's dead inside, or maybe she was never alive to begin with, and if I ever thought otherwise that was just wishful thinking. Perfect petite doll girl with expensive clothes and all the right friends, insides as hollow as that stupid cross she wears around her neck. A carbon copy of her mother.

And then I remember—the reason why Kathryn sent Ronald after me. Her ice-blue room. My ice-cold champagne. The lust in her eyes as I pushed her down, all set to make her my whore and then go back to the real girlfriend leaving her alone crying and hurting in all 3 holes, realizing almost too late that the victory even then would be hers, her victory for turning me into a rapist a mindless monster, reminding her of the arrangement and hating her for being able to hear my voice break as I did it, "war it is" and the sound of glass breaking against the wall as I closed the door behind me.

The perfect socialite couple leaves. Their perfect socialite daughter leaves with them. "Get well soon," she says. Annette glares daggers at her but doesn't say anything. I tell her to go home and get some rest, I'll still be here when she comes back.

So this is what war feels like. That little sweet smile. I'd rather you just took the IV out, sister. That would hurt less.

I ring up Edward's business line and tell him I need to get away for a while, woman trouble, you understand. I ask him if he can arrange the little matter of faking my death. He agrees with pathetic boyish eagerness, delighted to have something he can keep secret from Tiffany now that she's got his balls locked up in an iron-clad prenup. London's my first choice, but there's a slim chance someone I know might see me there and blab, so we decide on Thailand. I'm asleep by the time the plane flies over Kansas, my darling Annette's old home...

...flyover country.

A/N: Not sure if I got Sebastian's "voice" right in this one. Would welcome any criticism/commentary. More to come...