"I was thinking we could go to dinner tonight. There are so many amazing restaurants here," I tell him. He glances over at me.

"Whatever you want," he shrugs. I let out a deep frustrated breath and head into my bedroom. I pick up my phone and call Angela. Last week she finished her thesis and went on vacation to the Bahamas to celebrate.

"Hey hon!" she says enthusiastically.

"Hi. What are you up to?" I ask her innocently.

"Nothing much, I've been watching a marathon of Snapped mostly," she chuckles.

"A whole marathon? Isn't that kind of depressing?"

"Yeah, I guess it is," she admits.

"Well, I have the perfect way to bring some sunshine into your life," I laugh.

"And how would you do that?" she says cautiously.

"By getting Caylen for the weekend," I say optimistically.

"Really? Of course I can. What do you have planned...How are things, is he still acting like he's from The Walking Dead?"

"Pretty much. I talked to Helen though and she says that I should try to snap him out of it in so many words,"

"And how are you supposed to do that?" she chuckles.

"I have a couple of ideas, but as long as Caylen is here I don't know how well I can implement them," I admit.

"Hmmm. You must tell me how this goes," she chuckles. "Anyhow. Yeah I'm in for the weekend. You can bring her whenever you're ready."

"Great. I'll be over in like an hour and a half if that's okay."

After I've packed up Caylen's things for the weekend I scoop her in my arms off the living room floor. Chris looks at me curiously as I get her dressed, but doesn't say anything.

"Are you excited to stay with Aunt Angie this weekend Princess?" I ask Caylen. I glance over at Chris. He rises from his seat and walks toward us. He kisses Caylen on the forehead and heads upstairs. I don't even have to guess. When I get back he'll be in the guest room playing his guitar with the door shut. It only takes me about fifteen minutes to make it over to Angela's. When we arrive she quickly buzzes us and I make the trek up the stairs to her apartment.

"Hi Princess!!" she squeals in excitement, taking Caylen from my arms.

"What's up Mama?" she says, all of her attention on Caylen.

"I need to start back working out. Your stairs almost killed me," I say, catching my breath.

"Are you ready for fun with Auntie Angie?" she coos, taking off Caylen's coat.

"She should be asleep in the next hour or so," I tell her.

"No worries, if she's not I have a whole night of fun things planned for us. Now what about you and the hubby?" she asks playfully.

"I am going to try to break him out of this trance that he's fallen into," I shrug.

"I really miss him. I miss both of them as crazy as it sounds," I chuckle.

"They or he? He's in there, Lauren. If he wasn't he wouldn't be sitting at home with you and Caylen," she says taking a seat on her sofa and patting the cushion next to her. I plop down next to her and watch as she switches the TV from Lifetime to Nick Jr.

"I thought for some reason knowing whatever happened that caused his condition would make things better, instead it made things worse."

"One of the things that's interesting about DID is how it's a mechanism with coping with, tragedy, pain, loss. When you think about it, we all dissociate when we don't want to feel. We deflect. Now we don't necessarily do it to the extent of those who have the disorder but when you think about it we're all searching for a form of it, whether it's drinking, using drugs or even shopping."

"I guess you're right," I say, mulling over her words.

When I make it home, the living room is as empty as I expected it to be. As I head up the stairs, sure enough I can hear the sound of the guitar being played. I stand next to the door and listen for a couple of minutes, trying to figure out my next move.

"Make him feel something," I say softly, reminding myself of Helen's words. I have been doing the exact opposite since we arrived. I open the door and he stops playing.

"You don't have to stop on my account," I tell him playfully.

"I was finishing up anyway," he says as he starts to put the guitar away.

"I wish you wouldn't treat me like this," I tell him, stepping in front of him.

"How am I treating you?" he asks, closing up his guitar case.

"Like I'm a stranger, or a roommate you tolerate. I know you're hurting, I just wish you'd let me help you. That you'd let me in," I tell him, grabbing his hand.

"I'm not hurting. Everything is fi-,"

"Everything is not fine! Stop saying that. You are walking around like a zombie! I don't even know who you are, anymore" I plead with him.

"Well that makes two of us," he says, walking past me and heading downstairs.

I follow behind him.

"So that's it. You're going to be like this forever? Not talking, keeping everything bottled up, acting like I don't exist?" I ask him angrily.

"You're going to let him ruin everything? Stop living your life based on a mistake he made. How can you let anyone have that much power over you?" I shout at him and he stops in his tracks and turns to face me.

She said to make him feel something.

Well here goes.

"Cal would never let him do that. He'd never let anyone else's actions dictate his life or the decisions that he makes," I say tightly, meeting his stare, which has gone from indifferent to intense in the span of a sentence. His eyes squint at me.

"You don't think he would, do you?" he says, a smug grin on his face.

"No." I tell him adamantly.

He chuckles as if he's in on a joke I'm not aware of.

"So you laugh now?" I ask him sarcastically.

"As much as he's done, you still think he's n.o.ble, that he can do no wrong," he says, shaking his head.

"Don't you get it? He's not the hero in this. He doesn't come out to save us," he says dismissively.

"Well, right now, you for sure aren't the hero," I retort back at him. I see his eye twitch and he turns away from me.

Is it working? I don't know, but at least that tone and stoic expression that's been on his face for the past month has changed. He turns back around, his arms crossed across his chest.

"Do you want to know why he was in Venitan?" he asks, stepping closer to me.

"He told me that his biological parents lived in the area," I say quietly.

"Did he tell you that he was looking for Clayton?" he asks sarcastically.

"If that's his dad, why wouldn't he want to find him?" I retort back.

"Did he tell you he wants to kill him?" he says casually, making my heart drop into my stomach.

"W-what?"

"And when I say that, I don't mean like an arbitrary threat. I mean he's hired people to track him down. That he's kidnapped men he thought were him, and he is dead set on finding him and murdering him," he says tightly.

"So you see when I sit here quietly and appear to be in my thoughts, it's not just because William had s.e.xual intercourse with my Lisa. It's not because I want to appear anti-social, it's because I am trying my absolute hardest, to maintain control in one of the most trying times of my life so your beloved Cal doesn't come out and kill someone and get me sent prison!"

His words keep echoing in my head, blood is rushing through my ears. Is it true? Is this for real?

"Cal wants to kill someone?" I ask him in disbelief. He scoffs at me. Since when does Chris scoff at me? He laughs dismissively and walks into our bedroom. I try to collect my thoughts. I think back when Cal and I were in bed together and how he talked about his mom and dad but he didn't say he wanted to kill his dad. I feel like I'm about to throw up. I go into the bathroom, splash water on my face, and take a deep breath. I gather my nerves up and go into our bedroom. He's sitting there, the television is on the news.

"You're not Chris are you?" I ask him hesitantly.

He looks towards the ceiling.

"How intuitive of you," he says dryly. My heart starts to beat faster. The moment he started referring to his dad as William I knew something was off.

Another one? A f.u.c.king other one?

I hold my head in my hand and sit on the bed. This is crazy. So crazy. I remember reading that most people who have DID have more than one alter.

"And who are you exactly?" I mumble, rubbing my temples.

"You don't have to give me a name but if you must, you can refer to me as Collin. I'm not an attention wh.o.r.e like my counterpart Cal is," he says, his posture changing in the span of his sentence. He's sitting upright and even has a slightly different accent.

"How long have you been here?" I ask him.

"It depends on what you mean," he says simply. Then he turns towards me.

"I am always here. I have been transitioning in and out when Chris needed me since he spoke to Lisa. However if you mean when I came to the forefront completely would be just a few minutes ago when you tried to trigger Calvin," he answers.

"However, in actuality I am always there. We all are."

"We? Oh Jesus," I say, covering my face in my hands.

"How many are there of you?" I ask, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"I won't worry you with those details," he says, walking over to our closet. He opens it and sighs.

"Calvin isn't one of my favorite people, but I must say I prefer his style of dress than Chris'. If you don't mind, since you're aware of the situation, can I be free from these off the rack jeans and department store t-shirts?" he asks.

"I don't care what you put on. Why did you come instead of Cal?" I ask, watching him as he sifts through the boxes of Cal's clothes packed in the closets.

"Calvin is the most dominant part of us. He can execute more control in most cases. Christopher lets him do so. However, with Christopher having checked out, so to speak, and you goading him as you just did, Cal was very close to gaining control, which at this moment is not in the best interest of any of us," he says "We can peacefully co-exist if all of our agendas are aligned," he says.

"What do you mean, Integration"?

"If that's what you'd like to call it. Prior to Christopher falling in love their agenda's clashed. You have made it where they share a commonality. Christopher finding out about William sent him into a bit of a shock, again which would have allowed Calvin to transition as you all like to call it. However, Calvin's urge to kill Clayton will not work for any of us. It would destroy Christopher and none of us are interested in seeing if prison is like what they show on TV."

I look at him, his mannerism, his expression, everything about him is so different. He seems to be a lot more sophisticated than Chris and Cal. He actually reminds me a little of Dexter.

"Would you like a gla.s.s of wine, Lauren?" he asks, with a knowing grin.

"How much do you remember?" I ask him, skeptically.

"I know everything," he says with a quick smile.

"Everything?" I ask him.

"Everything," he says with a wide smile.

"Chris doesn't know everything. Does Cal?"

"Calvin thinks he does, there-in lies the problem," he says once he's completely dressed. He's wearing a suit of Cal's but it looks so different on him the way he put everything together.

"And are you going to tell me everything?" I ask him hesitantly. He walks towards me and smiles.

"I am going to help you Lauren. However, there are a few things I'll need you to a.s.sist me with, and tonight it will require you in a nice dress and your hair to be a tad more presentable," he says before heading into our bathroom.

"Oh, and if you can go into the guestroom and get those pills Christopher has in his guitar case and toss them out, that would be fantastic."

"Pills?" I ask in disbelief.

"Yes some experimental drug that Dexter convinced Christopher would get rid of Calvin. All it does is make us queasy and it's hard to sleep,"

"Dexter gave Chris pills? Why would he do that? I thought..."

"Remember Lauren, everyone has an agenda. No matter how much they pretend not to," he says before closing the bathroom door.