Note: I just want to remind everyone of the warnings stated in chapter one. This chapter contains potentially triggering material.


Wheeler met Gi at the top of the landing. She was towelling her hair with her fingers, shivering slightly.

"Hey," he said softly. "Is he any better?"

Gi shrugged. "It's hard to tell," she said, crossing to the window by the top of the stairs. She glanced out into the street. The rain was still pouring down steadily. "The doctors say he's showing signs of improvement, but he still looks like he's in a coma to me."

"Well, I guess the doctors know what they're talking about," Wheeler said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

She leaned up and kissed him softly. "I guess."

He put his hands on her waist and she kissed him again, her hands moving to the front of his t-shirt and tugging lightly at the material.

He broke the kiss gently. "Gi, we can't do this again," he whispered, dropping his hands from her waist.

She lowered her eyes. "Yeah, I know... But..." She shrugged helplessly and looked up at him. His face was all light and shadow, and the pattern of the rain on the window showed against his cheek.

She ran her hand lightly down the front of his t-shirt and hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans, gently tugging his hips closer to her.

"It doesn't have to mean anything," she whispered, stretching up to him again. Her lips were just an inch or two away from his and he'd bent his head unconsciously closer to her.

"But it does mean something," he whispered. "Being here – it makes us feel different. Awful, actually." He rested his forehead against hers. "Finding comfort in one another doesn't have to go that far."

"I know," she answered softly. She ran her fingers along his jaw. "It was sort of nice, though."

He smiled, and kissed her forehead. "Yeah, I know. But what about when we go home, huh? I don't want to ruin things with you..."

"Are you ever worried about ruining things with Linka?" she asked.

He froze, and pulled away. "Huh?"

She looked down at the floor and her cheeks were pink. "I'm not asking you to love me or anything," she said. "I just want to know why you're worried about ruining a friendship with me and not ruining one with Linka - if - if it were her kissing you now, not me."

He opened his mouth and then closed it again. "It's just different with Linka," he whispered eventually.

"Because she's beautiful, and I'm not," Gi accused. The flush on her face deepened to crimson and she looked upset and embarrassed.

"You're beautiful," Wheeler said instantly, his voice soft and low. He ran a thumb over her cheek. Her skin was still damp and cold.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No."

"You are," he promised.

"Stand me next to Linka and say that," she whispered. "Stand me next to the leggy, green-eyed blonde and try to keep your attention focused on me."

His stomach had started to hurt at the mention of Linka. "Gi, come on," he said, dropping his hand.

"I get so jealous sometimes," she admitted, lowering her eyes in defeat as she uttered this admittance to him. "Not because – I mean, it doesn't have anything to do with you. I don't..." She trailed off and shrugged. "Sometimes it'd just be nice for someone to look at me like I'm a beautiful girl. Like you look at Linka." She tilted her head up to him again and her eyes swam with bright tears. "You look at me and you just see plain old Gi. One of the guys."

"Believe me, I don't see you as one of the guys," Wheeler muttered, avoiding her eyes.

"Wheeler... This is all..." She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his chest, moving her arms to surround his waist. He hesitated for a moment, but he slipped his arms around her and he hugged her gently.

Gi breathed in the warm scent of him. "This mission sucks," she whispered.

"You can say that again." He rested his chin on the top of her head.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She let out a sudden sob and he was filled with dismay.

"Gi, come on," he murmured gently, cupping her face in his hands and looking down at her. "It's not your fault."

"It is," she wept. "I brought us all here without really understanding how dangerous it was going to be. I was so stupid to think we could change the way these kids think. They're all carrying guns..." She shook her head and buried her face in his chest again. "Why the hell should they listen to us, huh?" she asked bitterly. "We're the new kids at the school, who have no idea what it was like growing up around here. No idea on the history between these gangs and why these kids are the way they are." She scoffed bitterly. "Yeah, they're gonna listen to us." She squeezed her eyes closed and tears ran down her face, soaking into the material of Wheeler's t-shirt.

"We're gonna find out who did it, okay?" Wheeler promised. He kissed the top of her head again. "It's not gonna be pretty, Gi, but sometimes you've gotta show these kids the consequences of their actions before they really start to think about changing themselves. And for a lot of them, it's gonna mean jail time. Like Leon."

"Guess there can't always be a magic solution," she mumbled.

Wheeler stroked her damp hair quietly, and for a few moments they listened to the rain hitting the windowpane. Water trickled from the broken spouting outside.

"I just hope David wakes up," Gi said miserably. "What if he dies?"

"He won't," Wheeler answered softly.

"But what if he does?" she asked again, leaning back and looking up at him. "Or – or what if one of us gets hurt, huh? What if something happens to one of us because I brought us here?"

"Gi, come on –"

"Maybe we should just go home." She closed her eyes and leaned against him again, her arms fitted snugly around him. "Maybe we should just give up."

"You've never given up on anything," Wheeler whispered. "You're not gonna start now, okay?" He kissed the top of her head again, and she shifted, tilting her head upwards and brushing her lips gently against his.

"It feels like everything is out of control," she said. "Feels like I'm about to break into pieces."

She stretched up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his, kissing him firmly.

He didn't respond at first, but when her hands slid over his shoulders and her fingers pushed into his hair, he cupped her hips in his hands and pulled her closer.

She sighed quietly, breathing through her nose and opening her mouth so he could move his tongue against hers.

Outside, Linka looked up at the shadowy figures silhouetted behind the window on the top floor, and froze.

She shook her head in amazement, her eyes wide. Rain ran across her skin and dripped off her nose, but she didn't notice it. She watched as they broke apart, and then Wheeler ducked his head again to meet Gi in another kiss, before they moved out of sight. The light in his bedroom came on.

She stood still for a long time. The rain beat down around her. She seemed to wake up after a while, but the bad dream didn't seem to end. She turned and walked away quickly, not caring about where she was going. She just needed to get out of there.

It was confusing. For some reason she suddenly felt intense hatred towards Gi. For a few scary moments, Linka had several violent thoughts, and in the imagined scenarios, Gi was suffering the brunt of her actions.

Wheeler, however...

When she thought of Wheeler, it just hurt. She didn't really feel any hatred towards him – not like the rage she was feeling against Gi – but she felt betrayed.

I have no right to feel betrayed by Wheeler, she thought bitterly. I never told him how I feel about him. I pushed him away for so long... I should not blame him for looking elsewhere.

She wiped her eyes, her head bent against the rain. She was only vaguely aware of being wet and cold, and that the night was sweeping in rapidly. The evening had turned indigo, and she was walking through white patches of streetlight with the rain heavy and loud on the pavement.

A car backfired a block or so away, sweeping away the thoughts of Wheeler and Gi and replacing them with the realisation of where she was. For a moment she was hit with uncontrollable panic, and she realised just how utterly stupid she had been.

She glanced around nervously, trying to get her bearings. She had been so caught up in trying to escape the scene of Wheeler and Gi she hadn't given any thought about where she was going.

She was cold, and wet, and alone.

"You lost, sweetheart?"

The voice came out of nowhere, and she jumped and spun around.

Clayton. He stood opposite her, rain running down his skin. He cocked his head at her. "Saw you at Wheeler's," he said softly. "You doin' some spying for Main Dog?"

"Nyet, it is – I am just lost," she stammered. "It is not like that."

He stepped closer to her, leaning over her with a leer. "This is America, baby. In this country, we say no."

She blinked up at him, rain drops and tears still clogging her lashes.

"Say it," he ordered softly.

"What?" She shrank back from him. Is my ring going to work, if I have to use it here?

"Correct yourself," he said. He took another step towards her. "That Russian bullshit got no place here..."

She glanced around nervously. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried when she saw nobody else.

"Just you and me," Clayton said. He was towering over her now.

Linka clenched her fist, but she already knew it was useless. She felt no surge of power running down the nerves in her arm, indicating that her ring was live and ready. Hatred hung in the air of this neighbourhood like thick, invisible smog.

"So you wanna tell me what you were doing outside Wheeler's place?" he asked.

She searched frantically for an excuse – but the reality was, she didn't have one. She had made a stupid, careless mistake, fuelled by her own emotions, which were anything but logical and clear. Now she was alone, and frightened, and in the company of someone who wouldn't bat an eyelid at the thought of seriously hurting her.

Clayton chuckled and took hold of her arm. "C'mon sweetheart," he said, tightening his fingers around her flesh. "You and I are gonna have a little chat – somewhere nice and quiet."


It was different, this time. The blanket of exhaustion and spontaneity had been lifted. This time, Wheeler and Gi both knew what they were doing, and there were no shadows to hide behind.

We shouldn't be doing this.

The thought occurred to both of them several times, but neither stopped nor broke contact. Gi's shirt lay rumpled on the floor beside the bed, and her jeans were unbuttoned and open. She closed her eyes and let a lazy smile spread across her face as Wheeler tracked kisses down her neck.

He cupped a breast in his palm and stroked his thumb over the thin material of her bra, feeling her nipple stiffen under his palm. She arched up to his touch, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"That feels good," she sighed, lifting her arms so they rested over her head.

He pressed kisses across the soft skin of her chest and wriggled down so his hands were on her hips. He inched his mouth lightly down the flat plane of her stomach. Outside, the rain fell steadily.

He had just reached the open material of her jeans when she froze and lifted her head. "Stop," she said urgently.

"What?" He looked up in surprise.

"Shh!" she hissed. She cocked her head, and then he heard it too. The back door, and a voice calling them.

"Shit." He sprang away from her and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Where's my shirt?" she asked frantically, trying to button her jeans.

He tossed it at her and disappeared into the corridor.

"Wheeler?"

"Up here," he called, casting a quick glance back towards Gi. He hurried down the stairs. Kwame stood in the foyer, dripping wet and looking worried.

"Where is Linka?" he asked.

"Linka?" Wheeler felt a surge of guilt. "Not here; I have no idea. I haven't seen her all day. She's not here. Definitely not here." He pressed his mouth shut, realising he sounded frantic.

Kwame didn't appear to notice. He put a hand to his forehead. "She left. We think it was about half an hour ago. Ma-Ti's headache..." He shook his head. "We think she is in trouble."

"Where'd she go?" Wheeler asked in alarm.

"Ma-Ti thought she was headed here," Kwame said. "She did not arrive?"

Wheeler felt sick. "No..."

"There is no sign of her anywhere," Kwame said worriedly. He shook his head and started pacing. "She knew how dangerous it was," he groaned. "Why would she run off by herself?"

Because she's upset, Wheeler thought immediately. Guilt hit him hard. He had an awful idea that Linka knew exactly what he and Gi had been up to. What if she'd come in and seen them, and they hadn't noticed?

"Shit." He sank to the bottom stair. "What does Ma-Ti think?"

"He cannot get out of bed," Kwame said worriedly. "He is in pain. He thinks Linka is in trouble. He has been trying to reach you, but things are bad..." He shook his head again.

"What's going on?" Gi asked, joining them.

"Linka is missing," Kwame said. He glanced back towards the windows and out into the rain. "I am going to look for her."

"Me too," Wheeler said immediately. "Kwame, you shouldn't go out there. If Clayton sees you –"

"I can take care of myself," he said sternly.

Wheeler swallowed, and nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"I'll come with you, Kwame," Gi said immediately. "If Clayton sees us, we'll think something up."

"Someone should stay here in case Linka shows up," Kwame said, shaking his head. "Keep the doors locked, Gi. Call my cell if you hear from her."

"Have you tried calling hers?" Gi asked, realising it was probably a stupid question.

Kwame wrung his hands. "She left it in the kitchen," he said. "She does not have it with her."

"Shit," Wheeler said again. He felt panicked. He leapt to his feet and grabbed his sweatshirt from the back of the couch. "Let's go."


Linka's breath came in panicked gasps, though she had done her best to stay calm. Her voice seemed to have frozen up entirely. Clayton held her by the back of her jacket, and he pushed her forward into the factory. Rats scurried away in the dim light. Huge windows – most of which were broken, showed grey light and rain into the main room, which was empty but for two large boilers against the far wall.

"What are you doing?" Linka asked, her eyes darting left and right for an escape route. If she could get free of him, she could possibly slip through one of the large gaps that used to serve as windows. She could see overgrown shrubbery and figured she could hide, if she needed to.

"What are you doing?" Clayton snarled, shaking her a little. "Spying on Wheeler's house?"

"Nyet – no, of course not," she denied. "I am lost – I could not –"

He laughed bitterly. "Sure."

She tore herself loose, wrenching free of her jacket and leaving it hanging limp in his hand. She pelted across the floor of the factory, sending up small clouds of dust as she ran. She could hear him chasing her, and she realised with horror she wasn't going to have time to slip through one of the broken windows and escape into the rain and the shrubbery outside. She skidded to a stop and ducked under his arm before pelting back the other way, little sobs escaping her with each panicked breath.

He threw her jacket at her feet and she fell heavily, skidding across the floor. He landed on top of her, breathing heavily.

"Bitch," he spat, rolling her onto her stomach.

"Stop!" she gasped. She kicked and wriggled under him. She heard material ripping, and realised he was tearing her jacket to shreds, using a knife to plunge through the material.

"You do not understand," she pleaded. "I was not spying! I know Wheeler; I am friends with him –"

"Sure you are," Clayton laughed. He pinned her wrists to the small of her back and bound them with the strips of material he'd cut from her jacket. She winced as he pulled the knots tight.

"I am telling the truth!" she cried, trying to kick away from him as he rolled her over.

To her horror, he straddled her, pinning her down heavily and grinding her body into the floor. He brought his gun out and set it gently on the floor beside her, before flicking the blade of his knife to life again.

"How about this?" he asked softly, tilting it in front of her wide eyes. "I'm gonna ask you some questions. You tell me the truth, and I'll put the knife away and you don't get hurt. But if you lie to me, Princess..." He trailed off and let his knife settled against the soft skin of her cheek.

"Stop," Linka pleaded.

"Shh," he whispered. "So tell me... Are you are cop? Undercover?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked nervously, wriggling under him. "Of course I am not..."

"Guess that's a little far-fetched," he agreed. "But you and those other new kids. You and Wheeler, and the others. You're not really students, are you."

"You are making a mistake," she pleaded. "I do not know what you are talking about."

He laughed. "Sure you don't."

He grabbed her face in his hands and pulled her to him, kissing her forcefully. She screamed against his mouth and kicked her legs, trying to break free of him. For a brief moment she thought she was going to be sick.

When he dropped his hold again, she started spitting insults at him – the worst ones she could dredge up. Words she had never spoken aloud before tumbled vehemently from her mouth.

Clayton laughed, and pushed her back to the floor. "Thought I told you we spoke English here?" he said, wrapping his fist in her t-shirt. "If you're gonna insult me, do it in a language I can understand."

"You will not get away with this," she babbled, twisting and struggling beneath him. "The police are watching you, Clayton. You cannot –"

"So you are talkin' to the police?" he asked. "You and Wheeler." He scoffed and shook his head. "Man, I knew I shouldn't have trusted him." He smirked down at her. "Never mind." He bent and ran his tongue across her neck and she groaned and squeezed her eyes closed.

Wheeler, please come and help me.

Another deep, angry jolt of fear ran through her again when she realised she was truly alone. Wheeler was obviously not coming. He was with Gi...

"You know what really tipped me off?" Clayton asked softly, his tongue still against her skin.

She shuddered and gazed up at him in terror as he pulled back and leaned over her.

"You've all got those same rings on," he said. "Like you're in a secret club, or somethin'. I thought it was lame when Wheeler and Gi were wearin' matching ones, and then I see you and your other little friends wearin' 'em too, and I gotta believe it's just a coincidence?"

He slapped her hard across the face and she gasped at the pain.

"How fucking stupid do you think we all are?" he asked. "You think you can come in here and join up with whoever the fuck you want, and all spy around the place? Wheeler selling secrets to you and the others, is he?"

She sobbed and wriggled feebly beneath him again before giving up.

"You know, when girls go missin' around here, no one really cares," Clayton murmured, stroking his fingers across her cheek. "But you? Pretty white girl? Yeah, the cops are gonna work hard to figure out where you went, and why you were around here." He gripped her t-shirt in his hands and bent down, his face just inches from hers.

"Unless they already know what you're doing in this neighbourhood?" he asked.

She shook her head timidly. "I am not what you think I am," she said pleadingly. "You are making a mistake..."

He scoffed, and she flinched when she saw him produce the knife again.

"Better keep still," he said. "I wouldn't want to slip and send this through the side of your throat or anythin'."

She gave a moan of frightened desperation as he carefully moved the collar of her t-shirt aside to expose the strap of her bra. He sliced through the material slowly, smiling as she squirmed and trembled under him at the feel of the blade so close to her skin. He cut through the other strap just as slowly, letting the blade settle against the warm skin of her shoulder for a moment.

He reached under her shirt when he was done and pulled the useless scraps of material away from her skin.

"Tell me the truth," he whispered. "Where are the cops and what's going to happen?"

"Please stop," she said, feeling hysterical. "Let me go. I will not tell anyone –"

Her head snapped to the side again as he slapped her face with another sharp crack. He grabbed her chin in his hand and forced her to look back at him through tear-filled eyes.

"Who handed Leon in to the police?" Clayton asked softly. "Was it Wheeler? Or did little China Doll follow us that day and do it herself?"

"Nyet, I do not know anything," she insisted. "Let me go! Wheeler will be looking for me..."

Clayton laughed and slipped his hands under her t-shirt. "Oh yeah?"

She wailed as he pressed his hands over her bare breasts, digging his fingers into her flesh. Her skin crawled and she thought for a moment she was going to be sick all over herself.

"Stop, please," she begged, trying to kick him off.

"They feel kinda small," he said, sneering at her. He gripped her t-shirt in his hands and she went limp as he ripped the material from her body, tossing the scraps aside. "Guess I'll have to make do," he said, running his eyes over her skin.

She realised she was alone, then. If somebody had been coming for her, they would have found her by now – because that's the way these things were supposed to work. She should have been saved, by now. But she was naked from the waist up, and Clayton was letting his eyes and his hands wander over her skin with a leisurely delight that made her physically ill.

Losing her shirt was the point of no return. No one was coming to help her.


Wheeler hurried along, oblivious to the rain that was soaking him. He glanced left and right, his breath puffing out in front of him in small white clouds.

"Linka!" he shouted. His voiced echoed up another empty street. Where the hell are you, babe? Where did you go and why did you go by yourself?

The thoughts in his head sent another sick feeling of guilt to his stomach and he bit his lip. Because you know what Gi and I have been doing...

"Linka!" he shouted again. He started jogging again, his shoes sloshing through the water lying in the street.

The abandoned factory loomed up ahead of him, and he stopped for a moment, his breath tearing from his lungs in ragged gasps. He blinked water out of his eyes.

If Clayton's seen her...

He touched the gun tucked away at the small of his back and started running again.


Linka screamed.

Clayton sat back on his heels and laughed. "Bitch, who do you think can hear you?" he asked, motioning around. "It's just you and me." He bent his head to her neck. "Nice, ain't it?" he asked, stroking his tongue against her skin. "Lucky you."

"Get off me!" she cried, twisting and squirming beneath him. Her skin was scraped and raw from the rough floor, and there were red marks and scratches across her chest from Clayton's violent attention.

"You fucker."

Linka screamed again as Wheeler collided with Clayton, tackling him to the floor. Each of them started throwing punches wildly.

She struggling to sit up, drawing her knees up to her bare chest, sobbing desperately. Relief swam through her immediately, making her weak, but Clayton wasn't going down without a fight.

"Wheeler, stop!" she begged. "He has a knife –"

She was cut off as Clayton gave a roar of pain, his hand crushed under the weight of Wheeler's knee. Wheeler threw the knife across the room.

Clayton heaved him off, rolling him over and reaching for his gun, which was still lying on the floor by Linka. She reached out and kicked it away. He snarled at her, but froze when he felt the cold, steely barrel of Wheeler's gun against his jaw.

Wheeler pinned Clayton to the floor and reached for the gun, emptying it quickly and tossing the ammunition aside.

Linka couldn't help another sob. She tried to hold her breath and get herself under control, but she was trembling.

Clayton glared at her, and then shifted his eyes to Wheeler, smirking. "Go ahead, man," he panted. "Do it. Put your gun to some use."

"It's not loaded," Wheeler scoffed. "And you know why? Because guns cause more problems than they solve."

"Maybe in your world, with unicorns and cotton candy, and where the ghettos are full of fucking hippies," Clayton spat. "You think it's safe to walk the streets here without protection? You were too scared to come here tonight without it."

"I don't need a gun to fuck you up," Wheeler whispered, pressing his hand hard against Clayton's throat.

He choked and tried to punch Wheeler away, but the Fire Planeteer dodged the blow and pinned him securely.

"You know what the really sick thing is?" Wheeler asked. "We came here trying to help someone, and all it's done is drag us down into ruin with the rest of you."

"Take your girlfriend and get out of here before it's too late," Clayton whispered, smirking up at Wheeler.

"Maybe I should kill you," Wheeler whispered, digging his fingers deeper into the flesh of Clayton's neck. "I sure as hell want to."

"Princess isn't hurt," Clayton wheezed. "She's not worth my time, anyway."

Wheeler narrowed his eyes and pressed down again. Clayton bucked silently under him, his eyes bulging.

"Wheeler, stop," Linka begged. "I want to go home. Let him go."

He did, after a few seconds. After Clayton's face had gone purple.

He gasped in a heavy lungful of air. "What are you afraid of?" he asked breathlessly. "Don't be a pussy."

Wheeler smirked. "It'll be sweet, handing you over to the cops," he said.

Clayton choked a laugh. "Sure, man. In your little world you always get the happy ending, huh? Hand me over to the cops for what? I been with Theo all night." He grinned. "Just ask him."

Wheeler slammed a punch into his face, and Linka jumped, frightened.

"Wheeler, stop it!" she shouted at him. "Let him up. He is not worth it..."

"Go home to China Doll," Clayton whispered. "I'll see you tomorrow, man."

Wheeler scoffed and shoved him away. "Yeah, whatever."

Clayton tucked his emptied gun into the waistband of his jeans and disappeared out into the rain.

Wheeler turned to Linka.

She was still hunched timidly on the floor, her knees drawn up to her chest. Her back and her arms were scraped and dirty.

He stripped his sweatshirt over his head and knelt beside her, freeing her wrists. "You okay, babe?" he asked softly.

She hurried to pull his sweatshirt over her head, unable to resist a shudder as she remembered Clayton's hands on her skin. She wiped her eyes hurriedly, smearing her tears across her cheeks.

"Take me home," she whispered.


The rain was pouring down heavily, and Wheeler and Linka were shivering under a road bridge, hoping it was going to ease up a little. He had called Kwame to let him know Linka was safe, and had asked him to call Gi and let her know they would both be back as soon as the rain eased up a little.

Wheeler glanced to Linka. She was standing away from him, near the curtain of water that was pouring off the bridge, hugging herself tightly. Now and then she would reach up to brush a new tear away.

"How did it happen, babe?" he asked. "How did Clayton find you?"

"I made a stupid mistake," she whispered, staring out into the dark street. "It was my fault."

"What happened back there wasn't your fault," he said sharply.

She bit her lip and wiped her eyes again.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Wheeler asked hesitantly. "I mean –"

"Nyet, you arrived in time," she whispered.

He put his arm around her. "We've gotta get back to the house," he said. "Gi's there alone."

Linka hung her head. The rain had sent a chill right through to her bones, and when Wheeler said Gi's voice, it all turned to ice.

He grabbed her gently, cupping her face in his hands and forcing her to look up at him.

"Linka, tell me he didn't hurt you," he said. His eyes blazed with concern.

"He did not hurt me," she whispered. You did.

He stroked the shadows under her eyes with this thumbs and drew her close, wrapping his arms tightly around her and hugging her to him. He buried his face in her hair, his mouth by her ear.

"What would I do if I lost you, huh?" he asked, and his voice cracked.

She sobbed in response and clutched at him tightly. He was certain, then, that she knew everything. He couldn't explain how – his brain kept telling him that he and Gi were the only ones who could possibly know what had really happened. Everything else was just stories and cover-ups. Lies, to fit in with Clayton.

But his heart told him she knew.

"We've gotta go, baby," he whispered. "We've gotta get out of here and get to the others."

She nodded, but she didn't let go of him, and he made no move to separate from her. Her breath was warm and deep against the wet shoulder of his t-shirt, and now and then a sob would tear through her, ragged and hoarse.

The rain poured off the bridge. Wheeler watched it running down the gutters, sweeping up leaves and soda cans and various bits of trash. He watched an empty cola can spin and bob in the shallow current, and he closed his eyes, the movement making him dizzy. All of a sudden he felt as though the rain could wash him away – that if he stepped back into it he'd just dissolve.

"We gotta get out of here," he said again. His voice sounded tired. "Come on."

He let go of her slowly, and she stepped away, shivering as she left the warmth of his body.

"We're gonna be okay," he said. His voice lacked confidence and he was sure he had guilt and sorrow written all over him.

She gazed back at him, but her eyes were somewhat veiled and he couldn't be sure as to what, exactly, she was feeling just then.

"Da," she whispered eventually. "I am done making stupid mistakes."

She bent her head and stepped out into the curtains of rain falling from the sky.