Ahhhh, hi! Sorry, this update has taken so long, I've just had a rather stressful month. Hopefully, updates will be a bit more regular, now that i've got my act together. (Although i say that every time, so i wouldn't hold onto too much hope ;D)

"I can't do this anymore, Ben." Alex whispered, tears running down his cheeks. "I just- can't!" His voice broke and he looked down at his lap in shame.

A hand was placed on his shoulder and he flinched, expecting an attack that never came. He glanced at the man kneeling in front of him, tear tracks still staining his face.

"I'm sick of it!" He continued, ignoring the look of indescribable sadness that lingered in Ben's eyes as he spoke. "And I- I- I don't want to be here anymore…" He trailed off, suddenly feeling extremely guilty for causing the man who had sacrificed everything for him so much pain.

The silence stretched on for several seconds, before Ben took a deep breath and gently tilted Alex's chin so that they were looking into each other's eyes.

"Yes, you can. You can get through this." As Alex began to shake his head, Ben continued to talk in a quiet, soothing voice. "I know how hard it is sometimes, trust me I do, but pain is temporary. And no matter whether you believe that or not, I promise you, it's true."

Ben's eyes were becoming rather red and he stopped briefly to wipe them with a shaking hand, before continuing, his fingers still gently holding the boy's chin.

"Alex, you're the strongest person I know and if anyone can get through this, it's you! I can help you, but only if you let me. I understand that it'll be hard to talk about everything at first and that's okay! Healing takes time and you can have all the time you need. Just please don't keep everything to yourself, it isn't doing anyone any good and you can't get through this alone. But together, we can do this. And, no matter what, I'm here for you. Always."

Suddenly, the scene seemed to dissolve in front of his eyes and he stared in horror, as the living room they had been in moments before morphed into a bullet-ridden compound.

Alex looked around, stirrings of unease starting to form in the pit of his stomach. He recognised this particular compound. It visited him every night when he tried to sleep, plaguing his nightmares and haunting him, even in his waking hours.

Slowly, he turned around, searching for what he knew must be there and hating himself for looking at the same time.

His breath caught in his throat as he took in the awful scene that lay before him. The scene that would be burned into his mind forever.

Ben's body lay in the sand, bloody and broken, a look of terror still lingering in his eyes. The bullet wound was visible just below his heart and Alex was sickened as he saw just how much blood was spread out around the man.

And then, with a sense of overwhelming sadness, he recognised himself.

He was kneeling down next to Ben, sobbing, begging him to move, to sit up, to smile that familiar smile and tell him that everything would be fine. Begging him to be okay.

But he didn't sit up. Didn't smile or laugh or even twitch a finger. Just as Alex had known he wouldn't.

The scene started to dissolve before his eyes. It almost seemed as if he was watching the end credits of a movie, not the death of the man who had been like a brother to him.

With a gasp, Alex was pulled back to reality, the images he was constantly forced to relive filling his mind and vision, almost as if they were taunting him.

He stumbled into the bathroom and bent over the toilet, knowing he wasn't going to throw up but at the same time feeling a strong sense of nausea wash over him.

He sat there for a few minutes, trying desperately to calm his racing heart and remind himself that Ben had died weeks ago, this wasn't happening right now.

But it did happen. A voice in his head seemed to whisper. He really is dead.

With a shaky breath, he stood up and walked back into his bedroom, refusing to look at the clock that he knew displayed a ridiculously early time in the morning.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a framed photograph and turned to get a better look at it. He froze as the two figures in the picture became clear.

Ben and him were standing in front of the SAS training camp in Brecon Beacons, both clad in the standard army issue uniform, impossibly large grins on their faces. He remembered that day. He'd stopped by to visit K-Unit at their barracks, on his way home from a mission. He'd had a great day, laughing with the four soldiers and playing pranks on the staff. It hurt to realise that that had probably been the last time he'd ever done something like that with the whole of K-Unit.

As he stared at the photo, Ben's voice seemed to echo throughout his bedroom.

"No matter what, I'm here for you." But that was a lie. Ben wasn't here for him now, when he needed him more than ever. Anger seemed to bubble up inside of him as he glared at the paper version of the man he would never truly get to see again. The man whom he had loved like a brother. Who had always been there for him.

"Always." Fury overwhelmed him and he grabbed the picture frame and threw it against the wall, glass flying everywhere.

With a yell, he kicked it then stamped on it over and over and over again, hot tears streaming uncontrollably down his face. "You liar!" He screamed, not caring that his behaviour was irrational, if not borderline psychotic. Not caring what anyone thought or if any of the neighbours could hear him. All he cared about was the fact that he would never hear Ben's voice again, never feel his hand on his shoulder after a particularly bad nightmare, never laugh with him over stupid, pointless things that weren't even intended to be funny, they just had the same sense of humour. The small, pointless memories were the ones that hurt the most to recall.

"I'm always here for you." The words were everywhere. They were filling his vision and mind, suffocating him, he was drowning in them, they….

He sank to the ground, both mentally and physically exhausted. With trembling hands, he picked up the remains of the picture, unable to care about the jagged shards of glass surrounding it.

The photograph was almost completely torn in half, the two of them nearly separated, and it almost seemed symbolic. He hated himself for breaking it.

Again, Ben's voice seemed to appear out of nowhere and Alex had to resist the urge to turn around, it seemed so real.

"I'm here for you. Always."

"No." Alex whispered shakily, an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness spreading through him. "No, you're not here anymore, Ben. And I- I need you." His voice cracked and he wiped his eyes, still gazing down at the torn photo that meant so much to him. "Please come back Ben. Please. I can't keep going without you and- and- you can't be dead! Y- you just can't!" Distantly, he realised that he was talking to an empty room, but he didn't care anymore. How could he?

"P-please, Ben, I miss you. You said you'd always be here, you promised and I- I-" He shook his head viciously. This was ridiculous! Ben was dead. It was as simple as that. And the sooner he accepted that, the sooner he could start to heal.

But that was just it...Ben wasn't here anymore. And he never would be.

Alex hugged the photo to his chest, sobbing uncontrollably, memories of times he would give anything to go back to, floating in his mind's- eye."You liar…"