<br/><strong>"Each bullet has got its commission; and when our time's come, we must go." - Charles Dibdin</strong><br/><br/>Hours after the incident passed. And yet, Gerard remained secluded and alone. He wasn't aware of his sister's eventual return, nor everything of the world around him. Devoid of emotion and empty of strength, he sat by the sofa, eyes glazed as his piercing blue orbs scanned a television that reflected images which meant nothing to him. He opened his palm slowly and stared at it, then clenched it into a shaking, shuddering fist; veins pulsed along his flesh and throbbed.<br/><br/>His once-clear blue eyes became clouded in uncertainty. He held his hand up and clutched the side of his head quietly. He no longer knew what he was. And, truth be told ... he was no longer what he was.