The time is unknown, because the body doesn't care about the outside world when it thrusts itself into the world of unconsciousness. However, it never is that simple, is it? Forced into a vivid dream, nightmare really, Luca finds himself inside the bathroom of his apartment.

He looks himself in the eye with the help of the mirror. Everything seems to look fine, until the image distorts itself. The face is now a manifestation of some long forgotten identity, haunting Luca's subconscious for longer than he knew. After a few long minutes of staring hard into the fucked up reflection, the man who owns the face he's looking at's name pops into his head.

No. It can't be.

The face is that of his own father!

"What the fuck?! I can't have any escape from you, can I? The only reason I am the way I am is because you went to jail for that piece of shit! Fuck you!"

The face in the mirror begins to speak in response to Luca's rant.

"Luca. The only one you can blame is yourself. I never wanted you to follow in my footsteps."

"Oh, but I did! You see, after you left, mom decided she was tired of looking me in the face and sent me to live with your boss while she moved back to Ukraine! What kind of a man are you? To care more about your boss than your fucking family!"

"Dammit, I did what I had to do! If it wasn't for Heiman, you wouldn't even be here!"

"Exactly! If it weren't for crime, I never would've been conceived! I was genetically modified to follow in your footsteps since birth, you sack of shit! I became you because that was all I was meant to do!"

"You made that decision!"

"No, you made it for me. I hope you're burning, you no good piece of subhuman fucking filth. You gave me birth, you killed me. I'm a shell because of you."

Luca knew that last part wasn't true, but he figured that if that was really his dad and not just the guilt he felt every second of the day manifesting itself in the ultimate root of his crimes, he should let him know that. With an angry yell, he throws a punch that shatters the mirror into tiny pieces and cutting his hand in the process. You know that whole 'pinch me, I'm dreaming' thing? It doesn't really work if you've been pinched while conscious.

Again, his eyes are forced open and he's presented with a blast of reality. The nurse, Katrina, is asleep in the chair she was sitting in. Good, because Luca had something to do, and he didn't need anyone looking over his shoulder while he did it.

Reaching into his back, um, front pant pocket, he pulls out his wallet. Opening it up, he reaches into where he keeps his money and pulls out something that very well isn't a dollar bill of any kind.

It's a folded up picture.

He unfolds it and tears automatically begin to well up in his eyes. He hasn't even looked at it yet. Pulling himself together for a moment, he looks right at the picture and just loses it. Dead behind the eyes he stares at it, tears streaming down his face as if it were Niagara Falls.

What was the picture of?

A picture of him, and unidentified woman, and a baby boy...



Without warning, Luca's thrown into yet another dreamlike environment. This one however, all too real...

Pulling up to a house in what appears to be the middle of nowhere, we see Luca step out of his car and close the door behind him. The night air felt oddly relaxing as he walked gingerly to the house. The clothing he has on denotes that this occurred during the time lapse from when he left New York and when he met with Toreno.

Walking across the street easily enough, he steps onto the walkway leading up to the front door. A sudden sense of ill feeling comes over him, as if this wasn't the best idea he's had. Shaking off the feeling, chalking it up to nerves he continues to walk forward. Each step he takes the feeling amplifies. He pulls a small piece of paper out of his back pocket, and checks it to the address of the house he's standing in front of.

Like he hoped it was, and subliminally hoped was the opposite, it was the correct address. Nothing was really stopping him now, was it? He continues the journey up to the door, the same feeling continuing to build the closer he got. Stepping on the small stairway up to the porch, he steps up to the front door and knocks.

After about thirty seconds, the door opens. The person opening it is an eight year old boy. Luca kneels down to be at eye level with him, and asks one simple question.

"Do you know who I am?"

The kid looks determined as he tries to rack his developing memory to figure out the answer. After what feels like an eternity, he looks the man at the door in the eye and shakes his head no. By this point, the woman Luca could assume was the mother sees him at the door and shuts the door in his face. As the door slammed shut, he could hear her scolding the child for opening the door for a stranger.

Luca's heart fell into his stomach at the display. Turning around, he walks back toward his car. From the corner of his eye as he hastily walks down the walkway, he sees the little boy watching him out a first story window. A slight smile crosses the disheartened man's face, but isn't enough to cheer up his mood.

Opening the unlocked door and stepping into the driver's seat, Luca begins to cry his eyes out. That was it, the final nail in the coffin. He was officially dead now.

For the best thing he felt he'll ever contribute to this world doesn't recognize him and will never know him.

However, Luca figured it was better this way.

He certainly didn't want a repeat of what had happened with his father to happen to his son.

As he drove away, tears still clouding his vision, he couldn't help but ask himself.

"Could there have been a better way? It's what's best, why do I feel so wrong about it?"