Colton's back was to the wall again.
The grind of underground subway cars coming to a halt had roused him from his sleep again. Another night spent freezing in a brick alleyway, kept company only by bags of trash. His little unfed stomach stung sharply. It was nothing he wasn't used to, at least.
The guilt was keeping him up again. Didn't seem to matter that three months had passed, or that even what he did grew duller and duller in the back of his mind. All he could remember was the gun barrel and those words.
"Let go of her. Now."
He curled up and rolled over, trying to sleep it off, but it was useless. All he wanted was to be happy with her, and he ruined it again.
Colton sat up and hugged his knees. He gazed into the yellow streetlights at the end of the alleyway and wondered if it was where he belonged. He wished the answer was no.
...Maybe the answer could be no.
In its warmth, Colton wondered what he'd be if he wasn't selfish, if he didn't hurt people and ruin everything. He wanted to write it off, but he couldn't. This couldn't be where he belonged.
In the chill of the night, Colton slunk down The City's streets towards the old storage facility Penny used to work at. It was in worse shape than he was, yet someone was inside: a lanky, bespectacled orange cat a fair bit taller than Penny. Colton knew she was gone, but—maybe he'd know where she went.
Maybe he could make up for everything.