So here's the final chapter. Eek! Remember I said about this not being a plot-twist? It's really not. I just happen to think it fits well with the story. I'm not sure I did the thing justice, though - it's a bit heavier-handed than I usually go for. What do you think?

Disclaimer: DPS still not mine, the end.

...Neil marvels at the way Charlie and Steven walk hand-in-hand down the street and no one bats an eyelid. He's torn between wanting to follow them for the rest of the evening, and wanting to go back to double triple quadruple check that Todd really is happy.

And then he has no choice because he's swept up in the crowd, alternatively being trapped by bodies as they pass through his and ducking his way through the spaces between people. Even if he wanted to float above the crowd, he can't get enough of a run up to clear their heads.

That's how Neil finds himself in the middle of Brooklyn Bridge. That's how Neil finds himself in the intersection of two somewhat commonplace occurrences that should never, ever, ever happen at the same time, and yet right in this moment they're both happening to him.

The first occurrence is commonplace only to Neil, of course; a young man backs into his space, and he finds himself caught in the man's body. Fine. He's just been waylaid by nearly a thousand people on the street in the last five minutes alone.

The second occurrence is, unfortunately, more commonplace to the living; the man pulls a gun from his overcoat pocket, and feels the weight of it in his hands, as he looks down at the swirling black water below.

The intersection of the occurrences, however, is a one in a this should never ever ever happen chance.

Neil doesn't know the man is holding a gun because he can't see him; they're facing in opposite directions. But he can feel the man's pulse racing, and the clamminess of his skin, the sweat beading on his back and behind his knees; he can feel a skittishness in the man's body, nervous energy, like he's drunk eight shots of coffee; he can hear the man's breath, loud in his ear; and then he can feel, feel the dull barrel of the gun pushed against the man's temple, pushed against his temple; and it all makes sense and he wishes it didn't.

A crowd gather in a semi-circle around the man, but the man doesn't turn around.

"Someone call the police."

"Just put the gun down, son."

"Oh my God, is he really going to - ?"

"Hey," says someone in the crowd, their voice clearer than the rest – an old lady in a long overcoat, but Neil knows it's really Mr Keating. "You don't need to do this."

"You don't understand," says the man; his voice is shaking, high and soft. "I'm going to die anyway."

He's just a boy, thinks Neil. A kid with a gun and nothing to live for.

"You don't need to do this," repeats Mr Keating.

"Don't tell me what to do," the man yells. Neil feels the gun pressed deeper against his head. "I'm sick of everyone telling me what to do."

"So don't – " begins Keating, but he's cut off.

"And I'm not going to take it anymore."

No, says Neil. No, no, no. You don't have to prove anything. It's not worth the point. Don't do this, don't –

"It's too late now," whispers the man. He pulls the trigger.

His body is on fire and drenched in sweat. His breaths are short and ragged as he clutches at the sheets, heart threatening to burst out of his chest. It's dark and confusing, so confusing – he doesn't know where he is.

The open window bangs against the wooden frame again, loud and sharp.

Neil jumps, electrified; he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and stumbles to the window, legs barely able to hold his weight. He pushes the window open and stares out at the snow, the cold winter air cutting like ice at the sweat on his bare chest. At the edge of the garden, the trees shake their branches; a square of light on the white ground below lets him know his parents are still awake.

The crown of thorns and rosebuds sits on his bedside table. He grabs it tight in his hand. The sharp edges hurt him but he holds it tighter, and closes his eyes. He pulls the window shut, and collapses back on the bed.

He's alive.