The night they’d rescued Sarah, Chris had told Tony about what he’d seen in Sarah’s eyes. Tony, in a moment of uncharacteristic bluntness, had replied with, "Bullshit." He knew Chris thought he’d said that because he didn’t believe him. That wasn’t it. It was that he’d seen something completely different, something that defied explanation. When Sarah had looked at him and their eyes met, he’d seen the hazel windows give way to a long, golden, sun-lit world, a maze of impossible size stretching out before him, a castle rising from its center. Sarah’s labyrinth, yes, but it was his too now. In that moment he’d bought it. He’d made it his own. Everyone believed he and Jules had broken up over the fact that he was a closed and secretive individual and the pretty redhead was a hopeless gossip. He didn’t bother correcting anyone, and Julie, god love her, didn’t know how to begin to explain. The truth was simply this: when the nightmares began, he couldn’t tell her what they were about and she couldn’t stop asking. They both wanted to…but neither knew how. And the fissure widened into a chasm, the chasm became a gulf, and finally it felt like they were shouting incomprehensibly across an endless space, every message twisted and strange. It happened. But he had loved her, and the hurt and disappointment were intense. He didn’t want to blame Sarah. He blamed the hell out of her. In the darkness of his bedroom he sighed and put a pillow over his face. What the hell was that in her eyes? What sickness had she given him? What had he picked up from her? He couldn’t believe it and every night…and sometimes when he closed his eyes during the day…he saw it. The light. The maze. The castle. The owl… The man. Tony rolled over in bed and grimaced, shutting it out. Not tonight. Sarah’s stupid wish wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his problem anymore. Sarah was cured. Everything had been…fixed… "Never lost a patient," he was saying softly to himself. He was standing on the hill, looking into the maze. "Except yourself," reminded a voice behind him. It began again. Tony started to turn, knowing who he would see standing there, and it occurred to him how ironic it was for a psychology major to be losing his mind.