A/N: I'm so sorry, I don't know if anyone is still interested in reading this after so long, but I still want to keep writing. I have meant to, but I used to only write when I was depressed or lonely and my boyfriend he has been so good at keeping me out of those states over the past few years. Now, however, he wants to read this because I let slip that I based Bill's 'fun' side on him. There's not much of that in this chapter though, unfortunately. I also want to be able to say that I at least finished one of my stories, and this has always been my favourite and the easiest to write. Anyway, less rambling and more writing.

Fic starts here:

"Know where we are?"

Nancy paused. "I'm not really sure. Somewhere along the Thames, obviously, but exactly where..." She shook her head. "I can't say."

"We are at one of the many docking sites that litter the Thames. Nothing special about it on the surface." Bill replied, taking off his boots and coat. "But the beauty of this place is -" He placed his feet on the stone steps beside the river and began to lower himself down into the water as Nancy stared in horror - "That one can go swimming here if they so desire." He reached the bottom step and waded into the water, which reached up to his waist. She couldn't bring herself to speak. "Coming in?"

"You're mad!" She managed to cry in shock. "God only knows what's in that water. And even if you don't get sick from that, you'll catch pneumonia, it's freezing!"

"Come on, Nance! Where's your sense of adventure?" She did not reply. In a lower voice, he continued, "Get in the water or I will pull you in."

The thought of leaving crossed her mind, but, not knowing where they were and afraid of the possible repercussions of running away, she obeyed and began to climb down the bank. The steps were wet and slippery and as she descended, she lost her footing and fell into the icy black water. With shock, she realised that the water was much deeper than she had originally thought and she struggled to keep her head above it. Bill stood before her, the water inexplicably still at his waist. Then, to Nancy's horror, he began to laugh.

"Help me!" She gasped and wildy threw her arms at him, attempting to raise herself out of the water by holding onto him. "Please -"

"Anyone would think you couldn't swim!" He remained stationary, making no effort to assist her.

"I can't, Bill!"

"You can't?" He asked as a grin slowly crept across his face.

"No!" She screamed.

Sikes seized her by the shoulders and lowered his face to meet hers before uttering just one word: "Good." He pushed her under the water and held her there. She screamed, but there was no sound, no noise. She only could watch the sight above her helplessly: Sikes holding her down, his face distorted by the water currents and unmoved by her plight.

"Wake up! Now!" Her hair and shoulders were wet, the floor was wet, the mended shirt that she had dozed off next to was wet. Utterly perplexed and scared, she looked up. Sikes stood above her, his hair and face also drenched and the water jug in his hand. Upon seeing that she was awake, he seized her shoulders roughly and pulled her to a sitting position.

"Knife," he panted.

"What?" asked Nancy, still frightened and confused from her nightmare.

"KNIFE! Where is the KNIFE?!"

"I... I cleaned it. After you left, along with the rest of the dishes."

"Where IS it?!" She could see now that, unlike her, he was wet from sweat. She also noticed that cheeks were flushed and his breath came in gasps. He must have run a long way, she thought. Why?

"I put it in the drawer." He loosened his grip on her and made his way towards the cupboard. He flung open the drawer and noisily rummaged through it, swearing loudly as he did so.

"What are you doing?" Her voice sounded small and unfamiliar.

"Shut up."

"Bill - "

"I said, SHUT UP!" He roared, his lips quivering in anger. Now armed with the knife, he turned his gaze towards the table where, Nancy now saw, his dog lay quivering. "You ain't going to do that again, are ya?" He said softly to the dog. "I'm gonna make sure you don't."

"What did he do? What are you doing?"

Sikes grabbed the dog by the scruff of the neck and brutally yanked it from under the table. It yelped and squirmed in a futile attempt to break free.

"Don't," she whispered. Sikes moved the hand holding the knife towards the dog's neck. "DON'T!" She screamed, lurched forwards and grabbed hold of his arm, trying all she could to pull it back.

"Let go of me!" He bellowed. She would not. "LET GO!"

"I won't!"

"Listen to me! He barked at a bloody rabbit outside the window and woke the up entire damn house. I had to run for it, I got nothing from it, d'you hear, NOTHING! They might have seen me. They could have caught me. That's never going to happen again. Not if I can help it. LET ME GO!" He let go of the dog and pushed Nancy down with his free hand. Embracing its freedom, the dog ran to the door. Nancy got to her feet and turned the handle. It wasn't locked. She pulled it open and the dog fled down the stairs and into the open street, whimpering the whole time.

"You're going to regret that." Bill breathed, slamming the door shut.

"I won't let you kill an innocent animal that was only doing what its instincts told it to do!"

"Instincts, huh? I'll show you instincts!" The blow to her face was hard enough to knock her to the ground, but the kicks he delivered to her chest and belly were far more painful. At last he desisted and she dared to slowly open her eyes. He was sitting in a chair, wiping his face with his shirt sleeves. As she took one tentative breath after another, she vaguely began to realise that she was wet again - not on her face this time, but between her legs. "Bill..." she whispered. "Bill..." He turned towards her, his eyes widening in horror at something she could not see.

"No." He muttered. "No, no, no."

"What is it?" She murmured groggily. He walked to her and lifted in her arms, which, Nancy thought, were now suddenly so caring and gentle.

"I thought you had taken care of all that."

"All of what?" She was confused and so sore. As he carried her to the bed, she looked back over his shoulder to see the spot where she had been lying. With a creeping horror, she realised why she felt wet. Blood was running down her legs and there was a smal