I stand in his room.  The scent of him, the feel of his presence is still
very strong.  I wonder how long it will take to fade... from the room,
from me.  We never said anything about love.  There wouldn't have been any
point, we knew that there was never going to be a happy ending, for the
relationship or the cabal.

There is one last chance.  He may be out there, in the darkness of that
nightmare world where they came from.  I will try one last time to find
him.  I owe him that.  I will try one last time..... if he yet lives, he
has been corrupted and I owe him the gift of death.

I run my hands over his chains, then wrap them around my hands.  I let go,
watch them dance for a minute.  The stereo is on, hissing faintly in the
silence.  I look through his CDs, asking my hands to select whichever is
most appropriate.    I slip the
t-shirt over my head, let it drop.  I grab hook at the end of the chain,
position it over my chest, push it into the skin.  The flesh resists, but
I ignore it and press harder.  The pain spikes into my brain; I push in
the second hook, let go and let the chains hold me up.  I let the pain
translate into a rush of energy... my eyes close and the room is gone.

... seeking ....
... his light ...

For some unknown amount of time I drift.  Finally, defeated, I come back
to myself.  No Ryan.  Hopefully that means he's dead, and not just that I
have exhausted my resources.  I'll talk to Nic - we can talk to Agents
Smith and Jones and find out what we can do to avenge Ryan.

I look down at my chest, now bristling with the hooks, blood still
oozing.  I am not healing these wounds.  The scars will remind me that
this is my duty, now.  In his memory I will take on these chains.  It's
fitting.  Someday I hope to see with the clarity of the blind man.