Alright, guys. I'm really happy knowing that there are a few of you out there who are looking forward to the continuation of VIMH. Even I'm glad I've gotten off my lazy butt to finish this. I've been kind of in this bitter mood for the past few weeks, and I've been taking all of that frustration out on my alter-ego. But, I've got a new Shaitlyn in the works at this very moment, and as much as I'd love to put the first installment up now, I'm forcing myself to write the first five chapters first. I've got some peeps who would kill me for putting up another multi-chap. Heh. Anyhow, if you reviewed/favorited/alerted, you get a virtual cookie. -here- Enjoy this installment. Or not. Whichever, really. Hee.

I groaned, trying to figure out what the hell had happened to me. I could remember blacking out, I even remembered Shane calling out my name, but everything else was just one big blur. I got up, trying to figure out where I was. Where is Shane, I couldn't help but wonder.

Looking around, I realized he was nowhere to be found. 'Great, I faint and you run away.'

And then a voice in the distance, soft but firm, announced, "Michelle Torres."

I whipped my head to the left, the direction the voice was coming from. I walked warily towards it, my curiosity getting the best of me. "Who's there?"

"Come closer," was the only response I got.

I stopped. "Uh, I don't think so."

There was an awkward pause before a small figure, she couldn't have been more than five years old, appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She waved. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

I gaped. The girl was so adorable. "How did you know my name?" I rolled my eyes. "Did a boy with brown hair and really tight pants put you up to this?"

She laughed, shaking her head no. She held out my wallet to her. "I found this, so I looked inside. Your driver's license told me who you were." I grabbed the wallet, sticking it safely in my front pocket.

It was dark out, way past her bedtime. Way past my bedtime. I clenched my teeth, thinking horrible things to Shane. The only problem was that I wasn't getting a response.

Scratch that. Not hearing things from Shane wasn't a problem. It was a blessing.

I looked down at the girl, taking in her pink dress, brown ponytails, and teddy bear. She really did look the part of cute and cuddly. I knelt down to her height. "Do you need me to help you?

The little girl smiled cryptically. "Don't you think I should help you first?"

For a tiny little thing, she was strangely articulate. I furrowed my eyebrows. "Help me?"

"You and Shane," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I looked around then, glaring, looking for annoying guitar players who were laughing at my expense. "This isn't funny, Gray!" I yelled out into the night.

The little girl stomped her foot. "He's not here!"

I backed away, realizing that there was something very odd about the little girl. "Who are you?"

She smiled. "I'm you."

No, my eyes didn't get all big and my jaw didn't drop. Instead, I started laughing, falling directly on my ass. I ruffled her hair. "Very funny."

She held out the teddy bear. "Do you remember Fluffy?"

I decided to amuse her, taking the bear in my hands. I looked it over. In that instant, when I read the inscription on the charm around its neck, the one that had a big F + M on it, I screamed. "How did you get this?" I said, trying to keep my tone even.

"Mommy gave it to me for my 5th birthday." She took it back, hugging it tightly.

I remembered that birthday. I lost Fluffy a year later in the mall. To say I was devestated would be the biggest understatement of my sixth year of life.

Tears formed in my eyes. First there's a voice in my head and then the five year old me starts stalking me. What next? Fluffy would come to life?

I took another glance around me, realizing that Shane would never just desert me. "Where am I?"

"In a dream." She shrugged, taking a seat on the bench I didn't know we were standing next to, her feet dangling carelessly over the bench.

"A dream?" I repeated slowly.

"Uh huh. You fainted, so now you're here with me."

I nodded, biting my lip. At least I wasn't going crazy. At least I was in a dream. We sat in silence for a moment. And then I looked to her, happy as a clam, playing with Fluffy. How strange of me to think five year old me was cute. I took Fluffy out of her hands, watching in a daze as a frown identical to my own (insert duh here) settled across her face. "Hey Mitchie," I said, giggling at the fact that I was talking to myself. "What was that you were saying about Shane and me?"

She glared. "Give me Fluffy."

I smirked, holding Fluffy behind my back. "You said you'd help me."

She crossed her arms, her ponytails, strangely enough, sagging down. "You're a meanie."

"Hey, if you're me and I'm you, then that makes you a meanie too."

Her response was a shaking head and stuck out tongue. "You stink at rhyming."

I had to restrain myself from hurting the kid. She was an annoying little sucker. Even if her DNA was mine. "Look, you said something about Shane. What was it you were going to say?"

She held her hand out expectantly. I rolled my eyes, setting Fluffy back in her hands. She patted him gently, tucking him under her arm. And then she looked back to me. "Alright then. You and Shane won't be getting rid of each other any time soon."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm saying that you and Shane aren't done yet. You haven't figured it out yet." She turned around, skipping away into the darkness.

"Wait! I don't understand!"

"Time to wake up, Mitchie."

I jolted up, shaking. I took a look around, trying to place where I was. Instantly, I had figured it out. It was Shane's apartment. It looked exactly the way it had in my previous dream, the source of this bizarre, confusing connection. Falling back onto the cushion-y surface of Shane's couch, I closed my eyes, putting my hands over them. 'What is going on?'

Shane didn't hear me, because he was touching my forearm. And I was glad, because I didn't need him in my head, not after that freaky dream, not after what had just happened hours ago. In the beginning stages of our mental connection, we were annoyed. The horrific reality of how bad this could really be was only beginning to sink in now. We could no longer pretend as if this would go away. We had to attack this head on, figure out what the hell we were going to do, what the hell we were meant to do.

"Where am I?" I asked the obvious question, despite knowing the answer already. This was only meant to evade from the previous incident.

Shane was silent a moment, before: "My apartment."

I sat up slowly, using my elbows as support. Shane moved his hand to my own, placing it right over. I stared for a moment, befor saying, "We have to talk about what happened, don't we?"

"I think we do." His tone was so serious, so unlike his egotistical self that I was almost sad. In a bizarre, inexplicable way, I wanted the asshole-like Shane back. I needed him to antagonize me and make me feel horrible about our situation. In a backwards way, it worked as a soothing method.

"I don't know what to say," I began, stumbling for the right words. I needed to apologize for what I had done. Most of it had been my fault.

"You were angry," he said, pointing out the obvious. "We do stupid things through rage. It's a universal fact."

"I know. I just. I'm sorry, Shane. I'm so - so sorry for what I said. I mean," I smiled smally, "you can be a jerk, but...you've got it just as bad as I do. I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you. I'm just so sorry."

"Me too."

He didn't need to apologize for anything, but I didn't feel as if it was worth continuing. It was a stressful situation, my dream of Little Mitchie had confused the hell out of me, and all I wanted was to sleep for the next five years. I yawned and asked, "What time is it?"

"Late."

"How late?"

"Like, grounded for life late."

"Great," I said, groaning.

He picked up my hand and squeezed it gently. "No worries. I texted your friend Sierra. She covered for you. I just...I wasn't sure when you were going to wake up, and I thought about taking you to the hospital, but - "

"You're Shane Gray and the media would have had a field day."

"So you see the dilemma."

"Well, I'll crash on your couch for tonight, and we'll solve this mysterious connection tomorrow. I'm dead-tired and I just want..." My eyelids were closing on me, and Shane's voice was fading.

"Sweet dreams, Mitchie."

'Goodnight, Shane...'

Reviews are very much appreciated, really and truly. I do hope you enjoyed this one. Also, if you reviewed chapter ten the first time around, you will not be able to review this one again. I've re-enabled anonymous reviews though, if you really want to leave a comment. Otherwise, you can always PM me your thoughts. Thanks. ;)