Kind of a character sketch for Syd, he'll return a bit later, most likely. Is he reasonably believable or sympathetic? Is this a good amount of backstory exploration for something of this length?

Why was it that, no matter how long you have perservered, giving up never becomes less easy? Syd had been on the run for two weeks, fueled on coffee and the amphetamines truck drivers could spare, but now smoking a cigarette down Highway 3, as best as it would stay lit in the rain, he felt it would be so much easier to identify himself at the nearest State Police plaza and go back home, work from there.

So he did, carefully, knowing that he had created a sticky situation when he ran with Laura and wondering what kind of talk he would have to employ to resolve it. The plaza parking lot was full of police cars, and Syd had to take a few breaths to center himself before he entered, trailing water from all his layers of clothing.

“How can I help you?” The woman at the desk was kind but uninterested. There wouldn’t be much fanfare from it – although he wasn’t ever looking forward to it, there would be no opportunity for him to avoid a flashing brigade of journalists in the triumphant end to an epic saga of disappearance, like how they bill it on the news.

“My name is Sydney Graham from Fairview Heights. I’d like to be taken home, please.”

The secretary flashed a practiced incredulous look his way, then disappeared for a moment, returning with a yellow paged phonebook with a bookmark labeled “TAXI” about three quarters of the way through.

“That’s forty-five minutes away, kid,” she said, and handed him the phonebook. “Payer’s down the hall, I can give you change if you need it.”

It was a false start, perhaps. Syd took the phonebook and sat down, not knowing what else to do. He was missing his bed at home, his mother's maid's food, even the illusion of hospitality that his six month stay at the Fairview Treatment Facility hadn’t tried beyond halfassed to evoke. He breathed slowly a few more times, then returned to the desk for another try.

“I went missing from Fairview Hospital about two weeks ago, and I think I need to go home.”

“Parents’ number?” The woman was unflappable, professional, experienced. Syd nervously gave her all the information she needed, feeling as he did the steady days of the high begin to fall. She had just about finished her cycle of inquiry when she got right down to it:

“Why’d you do it?”

“Laura came for me. She got me out. She said she was my sister and brought me a change of clothes, and then we ran. And then she got scared and went home, and I was the opposite, too scared to go back. But now I’m just tired.” He surprised himself with the sudden eruption, no filter between his thoughts and his ability to vocalize them. He returned to the seats in the main hallway and leaned forward, his head between his knees. Eventually, just like he’d expected, a bright-faced rookie tapped him on the shoulder and helped him into the back seat of a fresh cruiser. The young cop looked back only once to make sure Syd’s seat belt was on, then again to check that the rear windshield-wiper was doing its job. The smell of the car, new leather, was like a lullaby as the cruiser left the parking lot and drove lawfully back to Fairvew Heights. Syd slept the whole way.