Blackness. That was what he remembered. The pitch of darkness at the exact shade of the night. It was rather beautiful, and he would have definitely enjoyed it more, if he haven't awoken to find himself in a cave.

A pouncing headache and dim vision greeted his conscious. Upon slowly raising,(nearly falling over) he realized that he remembered very little of the previous activities that bought him here. A flash of conversation with Joseph, a dash of shots of him driving a vehicle, a spinning memory of Jane and a stabbing vision of being pulled over and-

Oh.

The car had been stolen.

A sudden lightheaded moment bought him back to crouching to his knees. Exactly what had he been offered in that waiting cell? And why on earth had he actually taken it?

He rubbed at his eyes and took a calming breath. He reached out to the wall and tried to use it to stable his stance. It worked, but was rendered useless when he lowered his hand away from the wall and saw it was covered in blood. Falling to the ground for what felt like the thousandth time was not the present way he thought his trip to Eastcliff would go. It certainly put him no better of a mood than he was before he left.

His mind screamed at him to lose consciousness again. But he fought against the urge, he didn't want to spend anymore time in this murderer's cave. With its dampened surface and hollowed echoing noises, it wasn't the most appealing place. And now, that he saw the pool blood inches away from him, he really just wanted to leave.

"Timberlake..." He mumbled and then blinked at his words. What did Justin Timberlake have to do with this? Oh Lord, he didn't kill him, did he? Great, the last thing he needed was more prison time.

He slowly dragged his unwilling body to the entrance of the cave. He was surprised to see sparks of daybreak, his thoughts pondered hours of which had been stolen from his memory. He recalled so few things, it was frustratingly pitiful. A man of his age going on a-a bender, he slammed his hand against a tree and tried to control his breathing.

He hated hangovers.

But was even a hangover? Damien knew he had learned to handle his alcohol long ago. He shouldn't be experiencing this. If only he could remember-

"Could you be more pitiful?"

Damien stumbled over a tree root and grazed his hand against the bark trying to stop his fall. That voice- a shot of shock and a flash of fear thundered through him like a storm. it couldn't be-

"No, really. Could you? I'm thinking of turning this into a book and I need a sorrowful protagonist."

"Toby," Damien said, though the name could been lost in his harsh breathing.

"Tobias," The voice replied in a mocking tone."Are we really having a Christian and Ana moment right now?"

Damien shut his eyes. No, no, This couldn't be. Perhaps the drugs and alcohol haven't quite made it out of his just system yet. Yes, that had to be it. He opened his eyes and gazed longingly at a large stick a few feet away from him. The temptation to grab it and smack himself with it till he passed out was great. His body had been right before- unconsciousness was the way to go.

"Oh stop being so dramatic. I know you're happy to hear me but quit it with these pitiful thoughts."

Damien could hear the highway now. Perhaps, if he ran fast enough and luck was on his side, a car could knock him out of this cursed existence.

"Tobias,"

Damien's breath hitched and his vision fuzzed over. The world was on it's side, he was taking away the daylight. But then an abrupt sound cut through his head. One that left him wide awake.

"Tobias! You've had enough damn sleep."

"Was it though?" Damien fumbled to his feet and leaned against tree to tree as he stumbled along to the roadside."The blankness of unconscious seems to be the only place you don't reach me." He nearly burst into laughter at what he was doing, literally speaking to a voice inside his head. Gods, if the mental institution staff could see him now.

"Come on, Tobias." Toby sounded exasperated."When are you going to just accept that we're best friends-No- brothers. I've been with you since birth."

"My brother was a psychopath,"The words floated out of his mouth. Was he actually saying this aloud? It didn't feel like it. He tried to focus. Carsden shouldn't be too far from where he was, judging by the mangled body which appeared to have been half eaten by some sort of animal.

Yes.

Home was close.

For a minute or two, Toby was rather silent. This greatly improved Damien's mood and soon he felt rather more recovered.

"I-I need to go." He hugged his side and slowly drag himself through forestry. This would be so much easier if the pounding in his head would vanish.

"Do remember what Maryse told us?"

Damien paused, an action that seemed to still everything inside him except his heart, which beat furiously in his chest. Suddenly the pounding in his head didn't seem so bad. It was nothing compared to this shot of pain which chilled his bones. His very soul fell into agony. For he had had a recollection of sort. A distant foggy mist of memory seemed to flourish in his mind.

"Don't," He whispered,"Don't say her name."

Toby paid his words no thought."Do you remember what she told us?" He repeated,"Do you remember what she said as the life floated out of her?"

"Don't-Don't-"

"Do you remember how the blood gushed out of her? How we draw the blade across her neck?  How we took what belonged to us! How we took her life." Toby broke into hysterical laughter. The tears never left his eyes.

Damien had fallen to his knees.

"Don't."

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Okay, it's been forever and a day. But since this was just sitting here, I thought I might as well punish you- I mean- publish it.