When they hit their shoes landed on carpet. They looked up to see they were in a dark hallway, one with many doorways leading in different directions. It was modern, with blue walls and many repeating pictures. Jack touched the one closest to him; it was the one of him, his mother, and his father, the only picture they'd taken together in years. His eyes grew sad. He wished that they had taken more. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so guilty about everything that happened.

"Jack?"

He looked over at Stryker, who was pointing at something ahead of them. When he looked the hallway seemed to shrink, and a room was in front of them. It was like looking into a window as Jack stared, wide-eyed, into his dining room. The table had shortened to accommodate only three people, he, his mother...and his dad. They were smiling and laughing in the brightly lit area. Jack guessed that he was about ten then.

No, he knew he was, because his mother was setting a present on the table for him. He found himself stepping through the doorway and staring as the younger him cheered and started ripping at the paper. His dad, grudgingly as always, gave a quick glance at his watch before smiling at his son. Stryker came behind Jack and raised his eyebrows as the ten year old pulled out a band with two yellow lenses attached to it. He slipped them over his eyes and Jack recalled clearly that he couldn't see passed the hypno design. His parents laughed at how silly he looked, then his dad reached over and slid them onto his forehead, pushing back the bangs that had been covering his eyes. Jack felt a pang as the two paused, eyes locked, and he remembered that being the happiest day of his life, when his father had had enough time in his schedule just to look and smile and be happy with him.

"Are you okay?" Stryker asked him as Lula left to grab the cake.

Jack stared a moment longer, then his eyes fell to the floor.

"Yeah," he croaked.

It suddenly felt heavy, and he looked up to see that the ten year old version of him was glaring at him. There was such hatred in his eyes that Jack felt his heart jump all the way up to his throat and down again.

"You killed him..." he growled.

Jack's eyes slowly widened as the child rose and took a step towards him.

"Why couldn't you save him?" was his next question. "Why did you let him die?"

"Jack, it's not real," Stryker hissed at him as he grabbed his shaking shoulders. Even as he said this he was backing away, his heart pounding as much as Jack's.

Jack's only response was a choked whimper.

"You killed my dad!" ten year old Jack wailed. "He was supposed to teach us to swim for our birthday! And you killed him-"

Jack screeched and covered his ears, reducing the child and his house to smoke. Stryker staggered as the dream transported them to some place outside. It was dark, with one streetlight on, and no sounds around them. Jack was shaking badly by the time he opened his eyes, and his breath was coming out in shaky puffs of smoke as he looked around them.

"S-See anything familiar?" Stryker asked, folding his arms and shaking. It was suddenly very cold here.

"No..." Jack breathed, starting to walk across the boards.

Wait, boards. Even though every part of him screamed that he didn't want to know, Jack raced to the railing and looked down, his stomach lurching at the sight of the river below them.

They were on a bridge.