Once said, Neil understands there is no going back. Two weeks have past since his makeshift operation; whatever break making up the hole in his head would have started to fuse. And there is no amount of bracing that's going to prepare him for that separation. He breathes, chest expanding and contracting in a rhythm fit for concentration. For readiness.

Funny thing, though, about pain. Sometimes an overdose of it is enough to keep you from feeling the full extent, keep you from knowing when it finally hits.

Neil doesn't remember. For a brief, unknown point in time, his world spirals into the dark, into that blessed nonexistence.