Use me. You've done so much for us-" Marissa said. "Not.....for you." V said. "He's alive because of you. So that's everything." V shook his head and turned away from the wrist. "Can't." "I need you. I'm sick from what I do. I need you." Butch whispered. Vishous fixated on Butch. "Only for...you... not me." "For both of us" "All of us," Marissa interjtected. V took a deep breth and bit into the wrist.

And bottom line, without John by her side, everything seemed to be just a big, resounding meh.

He thought about all the holes in him, the blank places, the voids where others felt things. When it came down to it, he was really just a screen, more empty than solid, his emotions blowing through him, only angry catching and holding.

I love you forever" didn't always need to be spoken to be understood.

If you eliminate all possible explanations, then the impossible is the answer.

As far as he was concerned, there were only two good positions for a human. A female on her back. And a male facedown not breathing.

Destiny was a machine built over time, each choice that you made in life adding another gear, another conveyor belt, another assemblyman. Where you ended up was the product that was spit out at the end—and there was no going back for a redo. You couldn‟t take a peek at what you‟d manufactured and decide, Oh, wait, I wanted to make sewing machines instead of machine guns; let me go back to the beginning and start again. One shot. That was all you got.