Who is psyched for the new episode tonight! ME me me!

Only one more installment to go! It's getting to the pointy end of things. Hope guys enjoy this chapter.

He had spent almost every minute of the past two weeks with Violet. Some of the time, he made his appearance obvious. He would knock at the front door and politely ask Vivien if Violet was home. Other times he would sneak into her room, and make himself one with the shadows when a parent knocked on the door. And then there were the times that even Violet didn't know he was there. Usually it was at night. He liked to watch her sleep. He could sit for hours and watch the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the flutter of a strand of hair as she breathed.

A few times when he had been doing this he couldn't help himself. He needed to feel her close, feel the touch of her warm skin against his coldness. Being near Violet made the pressure in his brain subside and usually it could make the whispering stop. So one night he had crawled onto her bed. He had only meant to lie next to her for a few hours but, in her sleep, she had wrapped an arm around him and next thing he knew he was waking up and it was morning.

She didn't seem too surprised to wake up with Tate next to her, their limbs intertwined. After that he slept on her bed every night. It helped them both. Not that she was scared, but Violet felt safer with Tate around. And she knew that when he kept such a close eye on her, she couldn't go back on her promise to never cut.

She liked the way that Tate simply wanted to be around her. She detested the couples at school who had always felt the need to have their tongues stuck down each other's throats 24/7. Or those who bragged about having wild sex every night. Violet loved moments of closeness with Tate, the giddying sense of desire that rose up in her with a simple kiss, but she also loved simply feeling their arms brush while they moved about the room, or sitting next to him as they read different books. She simply liked being when she was with Tate. That had never happened before.


Tate could feel a murmur at the back of his mind today. Like a voice, constantly whispering in his ear, but every time he turned to see who is there it was only his own shadow keeping him company. He knew what it meant though. It meant that he wanted out. Tate was surprised he had managed to go this long without blacking out. He couldn't remember ever having had two whole weeks of uninterrupted memories.

He was determinedly trying to suppress the presence in the back of his mind when Violet interrupted his thoughts.

"So?" she asked, standing before him with her hands on her hips. It was one of those rare days where she had her hair tied up in a neat ponytail. He liked how it somehow made her look happier.

He blinked at her in confusion, realising he had just missed the first half of the question. He shrugged at her sheepishly. She signed dramatically and rolled her eyes.

"Do you want to come to dinner tonight?" she repeated.

He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.

Violet smiled. "Officially I mean. As in not lurking in the shadows."

"I can see your parents loving making small talk with me over the mashed potato. Especially your Dad."

"It was his idea actually." She grinned wickedly. "He said something about showing our gratitude for your heroics the other week."

Tate laughed. "His words I'm guessing. Scale of 1 to 10 for the sarcasm when he said it."

Violet feigned a look of confusion. "Sarcasm? What's that?"

They both smiled. Tate grinned harder watching the corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiled.

"Alright. I'll come to dinner," he said. It would be interesting.


They sat around the end of the large dining table, Tate next to Violet and across from Vivien. It may have been her Dads idea but Violet still made sure they were as far away from each other as possible. Besides, she liked it when she felt Tate's hand creep into hers under the table. She liked knowing they were supporting each other whilst her parents were completely oblivious.

Vivien made friendly small talk which normally grated on Violet's nerves till she felt like hurling the dishes at her mother, but Tate was so talkative in response that for once she didn't mind. She had wondered how he would go with the usual questions on school and friends and the skate park.

Adults had a very limited range of conversation topics when it came to 16 year olds.

She wasn't sure whether he was lying his way through or just adjusting the truth of his memories. Either way, it made her mother smile warmly at him. Her Dad remained unusually quiet throughout the meal. He kept of studying Tate, then looking at his daughter and then back to Tate again. Thoughtfully he sat watching them interact, chewing slowly on his food. Neither teenager was unaware that they were being studied but they chose to ignore it.

Just as they were finishing the main course Vivien suddenly gasped and held a hand to her stomach. She turned to Ben, smiling.

"They're kicking again. Here feel. I think we might have a soccer team on our hands here." She grabbed Ben's hand and held it to her stomach. A look of concentration came over his face before splitting into a smile as he felt the rebellious movement.

Violet watched their happiness with disinterest. She realised she felt nothing. Nothing for the babies, nothing for the family they would become.

But Tate was distracted. Pressure was building behind his eyes and he could feel the twitch of agitated movement deep in his mind. He frowned, trying to push it away but it was as if something was calling to him. He was being drawn out, unfolding and stretching himself into Tate's mind.

"Tate?" Violet whispered, distracting him from his concentration. Her parents were babbling happily to each other about the babies. He followed her eyes down to their hands. His knuckles had turned white he gripped her hand so tightly and he could see dark half-moon marks where his nails dug into her skin.

With effort he released her from his grip. At the loss of her touch he felt a jerk run through him, as if Violet's touch had been the one thing keeping him in.

He stood up clumsily, his chair falling over behind him and sending a loud thunk ringing through the room.

"I'm sorry I have to go. I...I don't feel well," he rushed, his voice clipped with the effort of holding onto his mind. He didn't wait to register the looks of surprise on Ben and Vivien's face, or the look of concern of Violet's, he pushed passed her outstretched hand and practically sprinted for the front door. He threw himself through it and out into the biting cold night air. Stumbling as he felt the slip of his thoughts disappearing he rounded the house and ran for the bottom of the garden.

He made it to the shelter of the old oak tree at the very end before he felt the final jolt as he was pushed out of his own body.