Caim came around to the sound of a woman screaming. He winced as the noise stabbed into his already pounding head and he attempted to sit up. The world spun and he fell back, smacking his head off the ground. A groan escaped his lips and the lady shouted again, some sequence of numbers – Just shut up… Please. – and he heard her shoes rushing over to him.

"Just don't move," she told him franticly. 'Cause I'm totally going to get up and run a marathon. "Help is on its way." Help? Damn.

He tried to sit up again but the lady rested a hand on his chest, holding him down. "Don't move," she repeated. "You'll be ok, you'll be ok." Wonderful. You're consoling yourself.

He moved her hand away with his left hand and kept his eyes closed as he sat up. If his eyes weren't open he wouldn't have to see the world spinning around him.

"You shouldn't move, you're bleeding, you need to lie down."

Bleeding? His stomach contracted as he felt the stickiness on the side of his neck. His body started to shake and he thought he might pass out again. Raising a hand he touched his head, where the guy had kicked him the night before, and automatically wished he hadn't. Damn. Oh damn… He bent his head, suppressing the bile rising in his throat, and squeezed his eyes closed.

Another pair of footsteps came over and suddenly something was being pressed to the side of his head. Caim pulled away and ended up falling onto his side.

"Don't worry, we're going to help you," the lady told him, touching his arm. I don't care. Leave me alone.

"I-" He swallowed. "I'll be fine."

The lady was silent, probably surprised by his voice, and he took the time to stumble to his feet, reaching out with his hand for something to hold onto. Upon finding nothing he tripped the couple steps over to where he knew the wall was. Leaning up against the wall he managed to get his eyes open, and quickly diverted them; right in front of him, where he had surely been laying, was a pool of blood.

"Son, sit down. The ambulance is on its way." That was a male's voice, and when Caim opened his eyes he saw him standing next to the lady who was now standing from her knelt position on the ground.

Ambulance? No. No no no no…He shook his head and then paused and waited for the world to go from a whirlwind to slightly tipsy. Taking a deep breath he looked around for his bag and found it sitting beside the lady. "Can I-" He took a breath, trying to keep the pool of blood out of his peripheral vision. "Can I have my bag?" he asked.

"You should sit down first," the man told him. Caim sighed and took a step forward. "My bag," he said simply.

The man picked up his bag and held it away from him. Caim ran a hand through his hair, avoiding his head wound, and took a minute before he spoke. "Please," he said. I can't believe I'm begging for my own bag. This is so wrong… "I-I need to get out of here. My bag, please."

"Are you in some sort of trouble?" the lady asked, her eyes widening.

You have no idea. "Can I please just have my bag?" He added a firm tone to his words, hoping that they'd finally get it and just give him his bag.

"Just wait another minute. The ambulance will be here, they'll take you to get fixed up, then you can take your bag and leave," the man explained.

You don't get it do you? I'm not leaving in the ambulance. So just give me my bag and let me leave. He stepped up to the guy as steadily as he could and held his hand out. "My bag." His voice was hard now, cold.

The guy looked him up and down and slowly held out his bag. "We're just trying to help," he told him.

You're trying to help the wrong person. "I know, and thank you." Caim softened his voice a tad. "But the one way you could help me is by telling me what day it is today."

The guy looked at him strangely. "June twelfth," he replied slowly.

June twelfth? "Do you… is there a train station here? Like an Amtrak?"

"Yeah. A couple blocks over…"

"Thanks."

Caim slung his bag over his shoulder and stumbled as the extra weight made him tip over. He righted himself as he pulled the backpack on properly, feeling the eyes of the man and lady boring into him. Caim cast them both a look and the tiniest of smiles before setting off, hoping that he'd be able to make it on the train before passing out again. Crashing last night, literally, had caused him to sleep better than any pill or over consumption of alcohol had ever done, but he still felt completely drained. Yeah, I doubt I'll make it to the station…

Despite his doubts and with the eyes of the man and lady following him, he set off. Using signs on street posts to help direct him he finally got to the station and let out a deep breath. I actually made it. When he lifted his head to go into the building he noticed a red convertible sitting in the parking lot. You have got to be joking. He turned his eyes away and hurried into the station, barely considering the idea that it wasn't the one from the highway the day before.

Ahead of him in line for tickets was a girl with long red hair pulled into a ponytail. The one thing Caim found weird was that she didn't have any bags with her. As he waited for the line to move he pulled his bag off and rummaged through one of the side pockets for his money. He pulled it out and stuffed it into his pocket before swinging his backpack on. He stumbled sideways a bit as he did and the girl turned to look at him; he quickly looked at the floor. Please don't talk to me.

"Are you ok?"

Of course you talked to me.

"You…" She paused and Caim could almost picture the look on her face. "You're bleeding-"

Caim raised his head and forced a small smile onto his face. "That's not blood," he explained. "Leftover hair dye."

"But it's all down your neck-"

"Yeah, I know. My friends are idiots when they're drunk. I didn't have time to wash it off."

"Oh." She gave him a smile but he could tell it was fake. "Alright, but where are you going in such a hurry?"

None of your business.

Luckily at that point it was her turn to walk up to the ticket booth.

"Where are you going?" she asked again.

Just get your ticket and let's hope we aren't going the same way.

"I'm actually just pricing the tickets, my car's outside," she said.

Caim froze. The red convertible…

"If you're going our way we could give you a drive."

We…? "I doubt that we are," he replied. He stepped around her to get to the booth but she spoke up. "Even if you aren't we could still give you a drive. At least to a hospital maybe?"

Of course she didn't believe that. "I'm fine," he replied. He stepped up to the ticket booth and ordered a one way ticket to New York, all the while talking in a hushed tone so the girl couldn't hear. When he turned back around she was still standing there, hands in the pockets of her jeans, looking like she had nowhere else she'd rather be. Caim took a breath before speaking. "Thanks for the offer, but no. I don't take rides from strangers." I sound like a child.

She smiled. "You're smart," she said.

Thanks, I guess. He headed down the hall towards the platforms, half expecting her to follow him. At the end of the hall, just before he stepped out onto the platform, he turned to see if she was still standing in the lobby. To his relief, she wasn't. Freaky chick.