'We're joining you at lunch. No buts.'

Connor was pulled from his dazed state as they were on the way home by the ring of a text from Kevin. He groaned, not really in the mood for the invasive company of his friends. He just wanted to curl up and hide away from the world, until somehow, the urge would go away.

"Will you be alright in yourself?" Christine asked, not quite sure if he would be. "I have to go somewhere."

"I'll be fine," he stared at his phone, thinking of how to persuade his friends not to come over.

'Please don't. I just want to sleep,' he texted back, returning to his curled up position as they pulled into the house.

He staggered through into the living room, slumping down onto the sofa tiredly as his mum followed behind.

"Talk to me," she sighed, smiling gently towards him. "Please, don't push me away."

"I'm fine," he turned away from her.

"Connor, I can read you like a book. I know what's bothering you."

"Mum I'm so sorry," he bit his lip, just trying to hold it together because he knew that once he'd started crying, he wouldn't be able to stop.

This time though, his mum's comfort provided him with little warmth. He edged further into the sofa, desperately trying to make sleep come to him so that he could be free from the terrifying consciousness, but every time he tried to close his eyes and drift off, he felt the memories of that day flood back. The oxygen is being pulled from the air. The fuel shows no need to be replenished. The fire just builds and builds and builds, engulfing every inch of the room in thick orange. The flames grow, becoming taller and taller as each second passes. The smoke rises, coiling it's way around his throat like a boa constrictor.

"Connor," he barely noticed he'd gagged until he heard his mother's worried voice and her gentle hand rubbing circles on his shoulder. "It's okay..."

"Don't leave-" he stopped, swallowing as his throat clenched again as if he was about to retch. "Please."

"You're more important than where I was going anyway," she smiled comfortingly. "You're not going to school tomorrow, and we'll see about Wednesday, alright?"

"Mum..." he mumbled, sighing heavily.

"Did something upset you today?"

"Barry knows, mum. Barry knows I started the fire."

"Oh Connor-..."

"He hasn't told anyone yet. I think he's going to use it to blackmail me, or something. And... I just haven't thought about things at all, and then it's like... he drops this bombshell and it hits me again. I-I feel horrible," his face paled again as he spoke, looking like he was going to gag again.

"I know you do, son," she ran her hand through his messy mop of black hair. "You've run yourself ragged. Try and get some sleep, hmm?"

"Kevin texted and said they were coming at lunch, no exceptions. I doubt my refusal will have meant much."

"I'll turn them away. Now you get some rest, I'm going to go mark a few essays."

...

"Are we still planning to go over to Connor's or what?" Kevin appeared by Imogen's locker.

"He's ill, Kevin," Imogen shook her head. "We'd just be intruding."

"You and I both know that's not the case. Barry knows, and he knows that he knows. That's why he's not here."

"We'd still be intruding!"

"Let me put it this way, are you worried about him?"

"Yeah, of course?-"

"Then why don't we go and make sure he's okay?"

"You go ahead, but I'm not coming."

"But why not?"

"He'll be thinking about the fire, Kevin. Seeing me won't help much will it? You can go- it'll probably help him. But me being there might upset him."

It wasn't only that; Imogen didn't particularly want to think about the fire at all. She'd accepted her scar. She'd accepted what Connor had did. She didn't want to take a step backwards, just as she'd taken such a huge leap forwards. She also felt slightly responsible, seeing as it was her who'd confided in Dynasty at first, but she knew that trying to blame herself for what had just happened would have been pointless. Connor wouldn't have blamed her, so why should she blame herself? She knew how much of a state he'd be in- he was never that good at handling things.

"Imogen, trust me on this," Kevin smiled. "Seeing you, and how much you care about him, will boot him right onto cloud nine!"

"So you want me to give him false hope?" Imogen shrugged. "And you're meant to be smart, Skelton!"

That was the other thing; she had to be careful about how she spoke to Connor. She didn't want him taking something the wrong way, then having to deal with the consequences of having his hopes dashed. She loved him. She really did. But she needed to put her more rational feelings first. Just seeing Connor, and seeing his apprehension every time he looked at her face, made her all the more aware of the scar on her neck. She knew they were never going to be like how they were, and trying to glue the pieces together would just be stupid. She needed to make the right decisions for her own well-being, and whilst it hurt that she knew her and Connor were a lost cause, it would have hurt more if she'd given in, spending the rest of her lifetime unhappy.

"I'm not coming okay?" she sighed contentedly as she closed her locker. "Tell him I hope he's alright if you're still going."

"Are you mad at Dynasty?" Kevin finally spoke again.

"Why would I be? It's myself I'm mad at. And Barry Barry."

"Don't be mad at yourself. All you did was confide in your best friend."

...

As Connor lay there, staring up at the ceiling, he was finding it harder and harder not to bust out of the house, straight down to the park and set something alight. The urge was getting worse, and he couldn't even move without being overwhelmed by the thick nausea that rose in his dry throat. His head swirled, and he was growing ever more tempted to pull out his lighter and get rid of the urge once and for all. But he couldn't. He wouldn't.

If only he'd resisted the urge before, then he wouldn't be in such a mess. He couldn't let the fire use him as it's fuel.