Hey guys how many days this time? Anyway Boulevard of Broken Dreams came on while I was writing this and I thought that was important sooo... yeah. Well I hope you enjoy. Jefferson is making things difficult again.

Things have been rather quiet for the past few days. Jefferson hasn't spoken a word to me ever since our… stand off. He wouldn't even look at me half the time and I thought that he was finally going to release me. Hope rose in my chest the longer it went on. I was free to do what I pleased without worry of him watching me and it felt great. However the freedom didn't last. He was walking beside me on my rounds now. He didn't respond when I asked him what he was doing or why he was following me. Even if I told him he couldn't enter certain areas with me he followed anyway without a word. I couldn't do a damn thing again and it was frustrating. When someone who needed surgery finally turned up I was ecstatic only to find that after the surgery when I let the nurses go so I could be alone Jefferson came in the minute they left. I felt trapped.

I walked at various paces and attempted to slip out of one area and into another without notice in my efforts to escape him only to find that all my efforts were in vain. Why wouldn't he just leave me alone? I was so close to snapping at him. So close to doing something I knew would give me away. I was back to pacing and having zero focus. I felt like I was suffocating. I heard every comment. Felt every look on my back.

And thus why I was glaring down Jefferson. Jefferson remained unintimidated. Just sitting in the chair across from my desk with a book in his lap. He stared back at me. His expression rather calm. I swore he was mocking me though that may just be due to my mental state. I was rather defensive and on edge after all. No. He was mad that I insulted him. That I outsmarted him so he was intent on pissing me off. Intent on harming me in the only way he could without breaking the law. He was with them. All of them were in on this. Every single one. They knew I found a way to be happy. They didn't want a monster like me to be happy so they sent Jefferson to stop me. To make me miserable. Him meeting me on the street that day was no accident. He was waiting to just walk in on me and see what was making me happy so he could prevent it. Ruby hadn't said a word to him.

My glare darkened. Jefferson just blinked lazily. Everything about him was setting me on edge. Irritating me. Making me crave the pain and sweet blood all the more. The look in his eyes was cocky. A challenge. A challenge to beat him and I would. His challenge was accepted. I would not stand for defeat. I would win. I would do it in a neat manner. I'd find an opening and I would use it. Defeat was not an option. This world was killing me so it was only a matter of time before I cracked. I needed my blades.

And so the game was on. I was trying much harder to lose him. However I wasn't being obvious. Instead I was making it look like I had given up. My gaze set on the floor though I was extremely aware of where Jefferson was at all times. My pace slower than normal. I completed the pathetic act with a dull voice and a slight drag in my steps. I'd win this game yet.

I fell back into the passenger seat and fixed my gaze out the window. The familiar silence didn't bother me in the slightest. I watched as the buildings turned into trees. A blur of green and brown. I didn't find it as soothing as I once had once upon a time. Instead it was just a reminder that I was trapped like a damn rat. I drew in a breath and let it out. I needed him to let his guard down, but would I hold out that long? I rubbed at my wrists absent mindedly. No pinpricks. No tugging. It was disturbing. I felt a slight panic rise within me, but I quickly crushed it. I was not going to fail. He'd let his guard down and I'd use even the smallest moment for all it was worth.

"... Want to talk?"

"No." I kept my voice dull and even.

"It might help."

I didn't give a response. I opted to chewing the inside of my cheek.

"You won't be able to fully break your little habit until you deal with what drove you to it and talking is the best way to figure it out."

"You're not Dr. Hopper, you know."

"No, but maybe you should see him some time. I'm sure he can figure out your problem faster than I can."

"My only problem is you."

He sighed. "You do know that you're addicted, right?"

"Che. You can believe what you want."

"I'm just trying to help you."

"Liar." I whispered to myself.

"What?"

"Nothing."

It was quiet for a moment.

"I just want to help." He breathed and I didn't respond.

This was it. He was looking out the window. I slipped out the door and I bolted. I made several turns and ducked into a supply closet by a bathroom. The bathroom was too obvious so the closet was my only option. Not the best place, but beggars can't be choosers so I'd have to deal with and I was happy to do so. Pulling the familiar blade from my pocket I yanked my sleeves back and got to work right away. Each letter fit into my flesh perfectly. Each letter I finished left a feeling of accomplishment. Of freedom and life and- the door opened. Jefferson looked irritated yet again.

He wasted no time in grabbing my wrist and pulling me out. The hall was still abandoned much to my relief. I said nothing as he dragged me into the bathroom. He checked the place out quick before locking the door. At that he forced my arm under the water before taking the blade. It was a regretfully familiar cycle. Now I had another word to add to my arm. Failure.

After the cuts were taken care of I sat with my back to the cold wall. Jefferson looked down on me with a look I'm sure meant nothing good for me. I failed. I freaking failed. How had he found me? Was I that obvious? That predictable? How I have fallen. I needed to work harder. I needed to be better. I couldn't keep losing to someone like Jefferson.

"Victor."

I jumped at the hand on my arm. I looked up. Was he talking? Something told me he was and he was not in the mood for my 'spacing out' as he called it.

"We're going home." He spoke rather harsh and deliberately.

"Huh?"

"Get up. We're going now."

"I-"

"I'm pulling you out like I planned before. Unless it's an emergency you're staying home with me."

His tone left no room for argument, but I tried anyway.

"I can't just-"

"You just don't seem to get it. I've had enough of this little game. I'm not going to let you do this anymore."

"You have no right to interfere with My life."

"I do if you're depressed enough to harm yourself."

"I'm not depressed."

"Really. Diagnose yourself. Your view of reality is warped. You go from happy to sad and angry faster than anyone who is mentally healthy. You're thinking many negative things about yourself if what you're writing on your wrists are anything to go by. You've lost all interest in any hobbies you had before. You wouldn't be eating or sleeping if I wasn't forcing you. Look at that and tell me those aren't symptoms of depression."

"What the hell do you care for anyway?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You're my friend, Vic." His tone was softer, but that didn't stop me.

"Monsters don't have Friends."

"Well it's a good thing you're not a monster then."

I glared at him, but he didn't seem affected just like all the other times.

"Now come on. I'll make some tea and we'll watch a movie."

Aw ain't he sweet?