Blink

"Pain... is a very int'resting concept. I'm not shure who came up with it."

"It's not..." He frowns. "It's not something anyone came up with."

"Well. 'parently it's necessary to let the body know it's been injured. But I mean, does it havta hurt?" Standing suddenly, she took a step towards the bathroom and stumbled. His fingers touched her arm, just as she steadied herself on a pole. "Why's it all hurt?"

"Sit down," he instructed gently.

"Don' tell me wha' to do. You can't tell me wha' to do!" Her breathing quickened, and he quickly guided her back down to the chair. She slumped over, onto the table, so all she could feel was hard wood below and his soft touch above.

"Nikki, calm down. It's okay."

"No, 's not." With a choking gasp, her shoulders started to shake. "I's all wrong, an' it hurts."

"I'm sorry," he said, staring at her helplessly.

Don't say sorry, she thought. It's not your fault. But she couldn't say it out loud. She didn't quite believe it.

"Anyone else know you're here?" he asked, thankfully changing the subject.

"No," she said sharply. There was a pause, and she fiddled with the engagement ring looped around her dog tags. "I need'd some 'lone time."

"But they're worried about you. And they'll come looking for you."

"Am on uvver side of city to our pub. An' I told Ka'e I goin' home." If it wasn't for the slight pout on her features, it would have seemed like she was trying to convince herself that her night out would be uninterrupted.

"If she checks?" he persisted. She almost wished he wasn't there.

Nikki shrugged. "Whass she gon do? Phone's off. No'ne's gonna find me." It was tempting to unhook the ring, put it on, and keep it on. Sliding the end of her finger through the gap, she sighed. "I need this. An' I got you."

"They want to help you. Why won't you let them?"

Before she could think of a reply, there was a clunk. Blinking, Nikki saw the bartender removing the empty vodka bottle from the table in front of her.

"Gimme 'nuvver," she demanded softly.

The bartender shook her head. "You've had enough."

"I pay... you serve."

"Sorry, luv. You're drunk, we can't legally serve you any more alcohol. Maybe try eating something –"

"I don' wan' eat," Nikki snapped. How long since she'd had a real meal? Bomber forced a plate into her hands at least twice a day, but how much of that made it into her mouth and how much just slid back and forth across the plate?

"So what do you want?" the bartender insisted, breaking into her thoughts.

"Hey," her male companion broke in. "She wants a drink."

Nikki took a deep breath. "I wan' my feeonshay back. Wan' him to be notdead." Was there a difference between alive and not-dead?

Sighing loudly, the bartender held out a hand. "Give me your keys."

"My wha'?"

"Car keys. Get a cab home, and pick them up tomorrow."

Nikki frowned. "No, s'okay. Josh'll dri' me home."

She blinked again, and saw the bartender was walking away. The soft touch of a hand on her shoulder made her look up; then she felt his arms around her, and another wave of sorrow passed through her light frame. She'd lost weight recently, which was probably why the vodka was affecting her so badly tonight.

"Shh, it's okay... it'll be okay... maybe you have had enough."

She nodded against his chest. "'kay. Ta'eme home."

With his support, she was able to walk outside. Peering around blearily in the dim light, she watched him pull the car keys out of her pocket, and together they moved towards her vehicle.

"It's not far," he said reassuringly, noticing her dazed expression.

Several minutes later, she blinked. Where was she? In the car. Okay. She could feel vibrations running through the seat. Oh, of course. Josh was giving her a lift home. She was pretty wasted, wasn't she? Her arms ached, her head ached. She wanted to sleep.

She blinked.

The view out the front of the windscreen kept changing. The streets were empty, so empty. What time was it? Late, very late. Very early.

She blinked. A burst of brilliant white light, right in her eyes. Headlights, another car. She tried to steer away.

Where was Josh?

Josh was dead, she realised. So who had she been talking to?

Nothing made sense. She blinked and looked around the car.

Empty. Like her.

The muscles in her arms were so tired she could barely hold the wheel. She wanted to sleep. Her head was heavy and floppy... like it had been filled with wet cement.

Light and sound were suddenly reversed. There was a screech, a scream – possibly her own – and the ringing sound of shattering glass. She blinked, saw another flash of white light, and the world around her crumpled inwards. A final, blinding moment of pain, the brightness disappeared and she slowly fell away.