He's already locked the door by the time she gets there, and is sinking down the other side as everything starts to take its toll. He had been praying that this would help, but it isn't, and he doesn't know what to do. He knows what's waiting for him when he leaves. He's not going to be able to keep running away.

They're just going to take him back again, and they're going to know that something's wrong. They're going to...to...

He makes pained clicking sounds in his throat. He knows what happens, but he can't put words to it. Like when he tries to really think about it, his focus bleeds away. He puts his hands to his face and when he pulls them away, his palms are faintly stained with red tears.

He starts pulling off the top of his body suit, stripping down to the torn flesh beneath. The rest of his skin is pale and sick.

Maybe he should just let them get him, he thinks. At least then maybe they will make this stop.