A/n: Sorry for how late this is. I have A LOT of family visiting plus I had writers' block. And I don't want to write much here, but say...

THANK YOU FOR OVER 200 REVIEWS! And before I uploaded Chapter 20 too. I love ya guys. :) ANd I wanted to give shoutouts to some people who have been reviewing from the very beginning: Mossface from Windclan, MusicLoveNiley, LollipopFandom, SarahB, arubagirl0926, mcandnj61106, . Jonas, YaY3, nickandtaylor4life, Over- Bridges, and so much more.

Also one shout- out to JemiObsessed/ DemiRawks for her amazing reviews that always really make my day. AND always talking about it on twitter causing more people to read. ILOVEYOU3

And thank you to EVERYONE who has read the story, even to those who don't review. I LOVE YOU ALL LIKE CAKE. 3

May 6th, 2010 (11: 47 P.M.) {Present- Day}

I blinked my eyes a few times and at first all I could see was red… and red… and more red. I blinked a bit more until my vision cleared enough to see it was a flashing light. Suddenly, I became aware of the authoritative voices around me, along with sirens, and the screaming of orders. I also became aware of the wool blanket wrapped around my shoulders and the hand that was rubbing my back softly, in a comforting way.

I looked up to see Nick's eyes straight at me. My head was gently resting on his shoulder as I took in my surroundings in more, but Nick reached over and brushed away a strand of hair causing me to stop and just look at him, to question him what was going on. "Shhh," he tried to whisper calmly. "It's going to be okay."

"What?" I croaked out as if I hadn't talked in years. Suddenly, I felt the pain like a blazing fire. My lungs. My legs. My arms. And then in a single moment, everything came back to me. Nick driving me here, his apology, jumping into the lake, playing around in the lake, the dead body… My face crumpled into a pained expression and Nick noticed instantly.

"Shh. You'll be home soon," he whispered as he continued to rub my back. He was trying to calm me down, but I felt like throwing up, and my head was pounding so badly that I thought a vein was about to pop.

"What's going on?" I asked again, but a voice interrupted me before Nick could answer.

"Hello, Ms. Stewart," Detective Widlen exclaimed as he approached us with two other officers beside him. I felt Nick tense next to me.

"Hi," I mumbled softly.

"I know you've had a rough night, but I have a few questions to ask you."

I began to nod, but Nick interrupted me. "Can this wait? She's really tired, and I think all she needs now is to get home."

Detective Wilden's head snapped at Nick as he flashed him an icy stare. "I don't think I was talking to you, Mr. Hason."

I could feel Nick's hand on my back curl into a fist, and I put my own hand on his arm to calm him. "It's okay," I mumbled so softly that only Nick could hear. I could hear him grumble a few curse words, but his argument seemed to stop there.

"I'll go get the car so we can go home," Nick explained, making an emphasis on the 'go home' part. I watched him go, looking back a few times as if making sure I was still alright. Finally, I turned back to Detective Wilden.

"What's going on? Is he really… dead?" I asked cautiously even though I already knew the answer.

"I'm asking the questions, Ms. Stewart."

I snapped my mouth shut and was reminded of how much I hated him. "Fine."

"Did you know Patrick Nelson well?"

I shut my eyes and felt my chest tighten. It really was Patrick. When I first saw those dark waves of hair, I knew it was him… but now… with official confirmation, I felt myself feel remorse. Even through everthing he had done to me, I still felt sorry for him. He was young. He had problems. He just made bad choices.

"I don't know," I shrugged as I tried to keep my body in control. "I knew him from a few classes. We weren't the closest friends, but we weren't strangers."

"Did he ever show any strange behavior?"

I stiffened and held my breath. "I… I mean, I didn't know him well enough, but there were some moments," I replied quickly, and flashes of his hands around my wrists… shaking me until I almost lost consciousness… always knowing to get me coffee on a cold day. "But it wasn't that bad," I finished gulping. I didn't know why I was defending him, but for some reason, it felt like the right thing to do… Maybe it was because I knew him better than anyone else.

Finally, I broke my gaze from my lap and turned to look at Detective Wilden straight in the eye. "Did he.. do it?"

"Commit suicide? Yes," he nodded. I looked back down and nodded. "Well, we believe so. The only fingerprints found on the butcher knife were his own. There are no signs of a struggle either."

I nodded again like I didn't know what else to do. "And there was also something else," Detective Wilden continued, but there was a change in his tone.

I looked up to face him as I waited.

"On his arm," he started slowly, and I couldn't help but remember the open wounds and scars trailing his arms that I had seen underwater. "He had cut himself using the butcher knife."

"I know-"

Detective Wilden stopped me. "He cut his arm in the form of the numbers 3 16."

I froze up as I realized what that meant. I couldn't meet his eyes as I kept my gaze on my lap. I felt his eyes on me, but I didn't have the strength to look up. This was my fault. It was all my fault.

Detective Wilden continued. "It's the date of—"

"It's the date of the school shooting," I finished in a soft almost inaudible whisper.

"Yes," he nodded. Even though I couldn't see his face, I could tell he was looking at me curiously. He suspected me to be part of what had happened. And in a way, I knew it was true.

"Have you contacted his parents?" I asked, remembering how they hadn't cared when he had ran away from home.

Detective Wilden ignored my question, and continued asking me questions about what I knew about Patrick. I answered to the best of my ability, yet at the same time, keeping it vague, not revealing too much. Surprisingly, talking about him hurt. Memories and pain and even some laughs filled my mind. He commited suicide from all the pressure of what was going on. He had to.

I should have seen it coming when he was about to leave the court room earlier today. His face… it was a mixture of fear and then acceptance and finally defeat. He knew what was coming, and he also knew the only way to escape it.

I froze up, feeling myself lose control of my body as I began to shake uncontrollably. Detective Wilden didn't need to ask why as we both watched the deceased body zipped up in a full sized body bag being pushed on a stretcher. The stench of death filled my senses, and I had to bite my lip from screaming and crying. I watched as they lifted the body carelessly; as if he were a piece of garbage instead of a person; a real life person. Not being able to look at it any longer, I twisted my head so that it was facing the clear blue lake. It amazed me that even through all the chaos erupting around it, the water still looked inevitably calm.

From the corner of my eye, I suddenly saw Nick pull up with his mustang, and I couldn't help but sigh knowing that in a few minutes I would be with him soon. In a few minutes, I would be safe. Luckily, one of the officers next to Wilden whispered something quietly in his ear, and I knew he had to go.

I stood up slowly, ignoring the pain stabbing itself throughout my body, and just wanting to get out of here. Before turning to go, a hand grabbed onto my arm tightly. I winced from the added pain and turned around to meet Wilden's heated gaze.

"Don't think you're completely off the hook, Ms. Stewart. This incident is going to erupt into so much more than you think. Breaking bail rules and being involved with another dead body aren't very respected in a small community like this."

I stood there frozen, not knowing what to say. I knew from the second I saw the body that I had gone too deep into all of this. I knew my life was over. I would never see anybody from my old life again. Finally, I stiffly nodded and somehow was finally able to make my feet move over to Nick's waiting car.

"Hey," he whispered quickly. He didn't move, but instead he sat there and watched me. I don't think he knew what I wanted right now. To clear up his doubts, I placed my hand on his and watched as he slowly intertwined his fingers through mine. Finally, I felt a wave of relief and relaxation cover me from head to toe. This was where I was supposed to be.

"Take me home?" I asked, leaning my head back into the smooth leather seats. I was already beginning to close my eyes from the exhaustion that weighed them down, but I felt Nick's lips press onto my forehead right before I slipped into a world of dreams. "Thank you," I managed to whisper out.

"For what?" he asked, and I could hear the confusion in his voice.

Right before I felt myself loosing hold of reality, I squeezed his hand as if he were the only thing keeping me on the ground and whispered, "For being here… with me."

The familiar worlds catapulted me to a serene and mystic dream world, but instead of dreams, my mind was overwhelmed by memories, to a time before the shooting, to a time when Liam and I were actually in love and happy; to a time when we actually believed we were on top of the world.

February 28th, 2010 (1: 25 P.M.)

I grabbed an eager hand to get a cookie from the baking pan and munched on it cheerfully as I swung my legs back and forth, feeling like a kid again. Next to me, Snort was sitting there awkwardly as if he weren't sure what exactly to do. I had invited him over a few hours ago, because everyone else had been busy with whatever they had to do. Selena had some weird lacrosse party for winning the championship game, Demi was hanging out with Joe (OBVIOUSLY), and Liam was off practicing for a marathon for like the 5th time this week. I guess I was the only one who didn't have a social life.

"You want a cookie?" I asked Snort as I motioned towards the full tray. "We didn't bake them for nothing."

Not knowing what to do, we rummaged through the kitchen until we found a cookie batter mix and decided to make some. Well, actually, it was more like me doing everything and him just standing there not knowing what to do.

"Oh right," he snapped out as he grabbed for a cookie with burnt edges. I watched amused as he took a first bite cautiously as if scared at how it would taste. I watched even more amused as his face seemed to light up after chewing and swallowing. "Wow. This is amazing."

"You've never had a chocolate chip cookie?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

He shook his head. "My parents are really strict. They won't let anything go into my system aside from vegetables, fruit, and basically anything organic." Well, that explains his frail, outmuscled figure.

"Sucks," I mumbled, taking another bite into my cookie, and sighing in bliss as the chocolate chips melted on my tongue.

"Yeah, they do," he mumbled back. I hadn't been talking about his parents, but I decided it was better to not comment. I laughed as he reached over for another cookie. "What?" he asked confused as he took a huge bite that basically finished half the cookie for him.

"Nothing," I shook my head, even though I kept giggling. He gave me a weird look before finally taking another huge bit and finishing the cookie. "Well, at least I know what to get you on your birthday."

"Shut up," he mumbled through a grin as he reached for another cookie. I laughed easily, and was surprised at how comfortable it was with him. Maybe it was because I knew he wasn't expecting anything from me. I didn't have to watch what I was doing or saying every few minutes to make sure I wasn't doing anything wrong, like what I did with Liam's more popular friends. Here, I could be myself freely. No restraints.

My mom walked in looking very professional in a pure black suit and grabbed a cookie on the counter. She waved to me before noticing that there was someone else in the house. "Oh. Hi!" she jumped up as she saw Patrick shying away next to me. I was starting to get that he wasn't a people person.

"Mom. This is… um, call him Snort," I introduced awkwardly, knowing that he probably wouldn't have said anything if I didn't.

Mom hesitated and looked him up to down before finally breaking into a friendly motherly smile. "Oh. Well nice to meet you. Miley rarely brings friends here. Aside from Selena and… what's the other girl? The pale one?"

"Demi," I reminded her laughing. She was horrible at remembering names. Especially Demi's. She would always refer to her when she had forgotten as 'the pale one'. Surprisingly, Snort broke into a soft chuckle next to me. It was so casual… so… normal.

Mom looked at him again. "So how do you know Miley?"

For some reason, he seemed more comfortable as he kept his gaze up instead of on his lap. "We have a few classes together."

"He," I patted his shoulder lightly. "is the reason I passed that cinematography class I was complaining about for months."

Mom's eyes widened. "No way. We owe you big time. I'm not sure Miley would have been able to graduate without you," she joked.

"Thanks for the support, Mom," I laughed, rolling my eyes. Mom reached her arm over and shook my hair causing it to fall in frizzy waves over my forehead.

"You know I love you, hun," she smiled. I could feel Patrick's gaze on us, and I turned towards him to see something fill his face. It was almost shock with a slight hint of awe. It was like we were the most alien thing to him right now.

"Well, I have to go, guys," Mom finally exclaimed as she grabbed her bag and keys. I turned in my chair.

"You're going to work now?"

"Just meeting with a client. I'll be back in a few hours. And I'm making your favorite for dinner."

"Bacon?" I giggled. Mom rolled her eyes as she grabbed an apple from the kitchen counter to eat later.

"No. Then I guess your second favorite… AND maybe a bit of the first favorite on the side. Maybe."

"Did I mention how much I love ya?" I teased.

Mom laughed casually and told me a few emergency numbers as if I were still 12 before kissing me on the head. "I'll see you later. It was nice meeting you Patrick. You should stay for dinner later."

"I.. um… sure," he mumbled. Mom flashed him a reassuring grin before disappearing down the hallway and leaving for work. I turned back around in my chair and was already on my second cookie when Patrick blurted out. "Is it always like that? With your mom, I mean."

I shrugged not really understanding the question. "Yeah. I guess. Like I know we're kind of freaks, but it's fun. She feels more like a friend than a mom to me, you know?"

But he seemed like he didn't. His mind seemed to be somewhere else. "Interesting," was all he mumbled.

"So, what about your parents? Aren't they some big business people?" I asked, remembering seeing their famous family advertisement posters everywhere. They owned this huge company that manufactured cameras. That must have been where he got his interest in cinematography came from. "That must be cool."

He shrugged in an 'I guess so' way. Although, I knew he was hesitant on the topic, I couldn't help but continue the urge to push on. "So where are they now?"

"LA… or maybe it was Chicago… I can't remember," he explained softly.

"Do you guys… talk much?" I asked, my voice thick with curiosity.

"No," he answered matter- of- factly. "They don't really have much time left for me."

"Why?"

"Because of work."

"Oh."

I sat there awkwardly, letting a silence fill the room. Patrick was the first one to break it. "Let's just say that my family and I have been strangers ever since I was 7."

"What happened when you were 7?" I asked.

He ignored the question and looked behind him. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

I blinked a few times. I was still a little dazed from the conversation, but I managed to nod. "Um. Sure. I have some DVDs."

"Anything loud," he explained as he stood up from his chair. "I don't want to think anymore."

I nodded completely understanding and walked into the living room. I picked a Mission Impossible movie knowing it was probably the loudest one I had. He sat on the couch next to me stiffly, and I followed sitting next to him, but giving enough space between us to not make it awkward.

We watched the movie in complete silence, only letting the blaring sounds of gun shots, screams, and explosions fill our ears. For most of the movie, I had been watching him the entire time. Not making it obvious by just occasionally sneaking peeks from the side of my vision. He was frozen still and his eyes were glued to the TV. By the time, the credits started playing, his phone began to ring.

He gave me an apologetic look though I didn't know why. It wasn't like it was in his control. He stood up and walked back to the now empty kitchen to carry on his conversation. I stayed seated on the couch with my feet tucked under me, waiting awkwardly for his return.

From where I was sitting, I could hear a few grumbles and sighs. As it went on, Snort's voice grew higher and louder. The words became clearer and more prominent. Now, I could make out the words, "AGAIN? But I thought-… Dad. Mom… It's going to kill her… Disappointed in me? Shut up… shut up… SHUT UP!" the last words ringing through the deadly silent house. I bit my lips and turned my head back around, erasing any sign that I had been listening. When I heard his approaching footsteps, I swiveled my torso to face him and smiled encouragingly. "Are you okay?"

He dropped his shoulders in a deep sigh and shook his head. He crumpled into a weak mess onto my couch and kept his gaze in his hands.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, suddenly feeling an urge to make him feel better. Anything to erase that helpless and upset expression embedded all over his face.

He flinched from my words as if they were words he did not know. "You are so lucky, do you know that?"

Pictures of my friends, my parents, and Liam fill my mind. All of them positive memories of them just being there for me, to make me laugh or smile. "I wouldn't say lucky, but I'm happy."

"Your life… it's so… open. You have so many choices ahead of you. And people who will be there for you the whole way," he smiled tensely. I listened intently. This was the most he had opened up to me since I had first met him. For some reason, I felt a little uncomfortable… almost… undeserving.

"My life… it's laid out for me. Even when I don't want it. And when I try to fight against it, I just cause more disappointment."

"Forget about those other people. The first person you should think about disappointing is yourself. It's your life. You have choices," I tried to explain. His lips twisted into a melancholy smile as if he didn't really understand my words.

"It's not that easy… My family… they're really messed up. Let's just say that," he said, not able to meet my eyes. I froze up from his words. From my own family, I never found a reason to hurt them or hate them. Of course, we had fights; we've disagreed; I've been angry, but I never said anything that I knew would hurt.

"I'm sorry," I only mumbled back in response.

He nodded slowly. "You shouldn't be."

Instead of questioning why, I just stood up, wanting to get away from the sadness that filled the room. "What about we leave and go do something? I know a good ice- cream place," I smiled.

And finally, through the depressing haze suffocating us, a small smile broke on his face. I stood up taking that as a yes, and turned around surprised as he stayed sitting down. For a few moments, we just watched each other. His almost coal- black pupils staring back to my own gray eyes. Finally, he broke the still silence with the softest and most tender tone that I couldn't help but feel my heart twist inside my chest.

"Thank you," he said in a soft lingering whisper.

"For what?" I asked confused.

He stood up slowly and stood next to me, yet staring at the distance; almost as if a far away place that he could only admire but never touch. "For being here… with me."