The chilly evening air crept up around Brian Littrell as he walked quickly along the virtually empty sidewalk. He loved the boutique section of town, finding the selection more broad, despite the inconvenience of the early closing hours.

He couldn't shake the sight of the salesclerk. She seemed so rattled by something. Her eyes, such an unusual colour, were evidently sad. Her face was one of those haunting ones that he knew would stay with him for quite a while.

He shivered as he glanced around him, slightly paranoid. He had the strange feeling that he was being watched. Looking around, he found the street deserted around him. Shivering again, he pulled his car keys out of his pocket, and crossed the street, to his car. Unable to shake the feeling he was being watched, he turned the ignition and pulled out into the street, thinking happily of the expression on his girlfriend's face when she saw that he remembered her book.

"Sadie, I need help. I can't take this anymore. I can't sleep, I can't think, I'm focused on one thing only. And it's not helping," Beth said nervously, pacing around.

"Beth, I don't know how I can help you out. I don't see what you see," Sadie protested.

"I know, but there must be some reason this is happening. Why would I see - feel him this way if there was no reason for it? I have to be able to help somehow, I have to do something!" Beth yelled.

"Why, Beth? Why is this so important to you?" Sadie asked.

"I connected again last night," Beth answered dully, staring straight ahead blindly. "I saw him trying to hold the pieces of his life together, to hold the pieces of her together, but it was slipping away from him, and he's going to loose it."

"You know two things about this guy. He has green eyes, and someone is gonna be mighty depressed when his friend dies," Sadie stated for her.

"He doesn't have the green eyes. It was his…friend I guess. I don't know. I don't know anything," Beth said hopelessly.

"But you do know me!" a voice called, interrupting the conversation. Turning around, Beth saw the late-night customer from the night before.

"Weren't you here yesterday?" she asked flatly, her shell re-emerging as she realised that there was a stranger around.

"Actually, that's why I'm here. Remember the book I bought? Well it was the wrong one…And I was hoping-"

"-We don't do refunds on books, sorry," she answered apologetically.

"Well, I was hoping that you'd be able to help me find the right one," he asked, with a hopeful smile. Feeling awkward, Beth fought the urge to run away.

Brian watched the young woman, staring at him like a deer frozen in headlights. He thought it was strange the way that she looked like the thought of just talking to him terrified her. If only Shauna would do her own damn shopping, I wouldn't have to beg this poor girl to help me out, he thought bitterly. He had been pleased with himself when he had presented her with the book, but the look on Shauna's face when she saw the title was a let down for him. She had been understanding and nice about it, but he couldn't help but notice the slight disappointment in her eyes. Again, he gave the young woman a hopeful look. Something must have changed her mind, because she conceded to his request.

"I'd be happy to help," she said, uncertainly. He laughed, startling her.

"You don't look that happy about it," he chuckled as she led him away from the hidden corner where she had been talking with Sadie.

"I'm not really used to working with customers. I'm more into the behind-the-scenes of the store," she answered honestly.

"So I've caught you off guard."

"Pretty much. What title is it that you are looking for?" she asked. Pulling a slip of paper out of his pocket, he read her the name and she knew right away where it was. Turning a corner to lead him down the proper row, Beth suddenly felt light-headed and her eyes began to burn. Knowing what was about to happen, she bit back a slight whimper and grabbed hold of the shelf, waiting to be engulfed in the connection. The anticipated heat of pain was diluted, she was no longer there to experience it, she was with him.

Bitterness. Stiff, a determination to remain motionless. Stifling the air, the acrid smell of stale cigarette smoke filled the room, oppressing the fresh breeze desperately whistling through the window. The staid coloured walls rose up around him, trapping him like a caged animal.

"Now, as his cousin, he must have mentioned something about these letters he had been getting," a stolid voice repeated for the second time. Anger, frustration added to the oppression. Helpless.

"He was supposed to call me. He never called," the dry voice said. Repeated. So many details, so blurred. The burning desire to forget it all and curl up into a tiny ball, a tiny emotionless ball. He didn't want to feel, he didn't want to think. Most importantly, he did not want to remember.

The questions continued, bruising him with their hidden innuendoes. The accusatory tone. Taunting him. They all blamed him, he could sense it. The questions came faster and faster, and his breathing became restrained, as the room seemed to close in on him. Trapped. Caged animal.

"Officer, it has been a very difficult day. Can we continue this some other time?" coolness, composed, comforting to his bruised soul, her voice distracted them from their torture victim.

"As soon as he finishes, miss, he'll be free to go. We need his statement for the record."

"I was there and he wasn't. I called his cell. It rang a few times, but he didn't answer. I was looking for some papers from the day before, he shoved them into the drawer. Only I opened the wrong one. I found the letters. And then I heard the glass break. It was so close, I knew it was in the house. So I ran towards it and I found him. Why wouldn't he tell me?" So many questions, so much blame. Cool and reassuring, her hand reached out and grasped his. Stone. He was a block of stone.

As they left the closed in room, she was able to see around the edges of his reality. In the freedom he was unknowingly allowing her, she observed that the colour was draining away. The warmth, the yellow-gold warmth had tarnished.

Tarnished to black.

"Ma'am? Can you hear me?" a worried voice was asking. Shaking off the lingering affects of blurred reality, Beth sat up slowly. She was on the floor of the bookstore. Her customer was bent over her, apparently worried.

"I'm…fine. I just didn't eat today. It's been one of those busy days," she lied quickly, as she pulled herself up by the counter, ignoring the hand he offered her as if it would contaminate her.

"You really should never do that, especially to the point where you are fainting," he suggested. She smiled weakly. He lingered in the store for a few minutes, until he was certain she would be fine. She flagged Sadie down so that she could ring in his purchase, while Beth escaped to the back room. Walking briskly into the store room, she shut the door and locked it. Having successfully barred the outside world from entering, she crawled weakly into a corner, dim and dusty and safe, and she cried.