The truck can only seat three, legally. Trying to stuff five roughly equivalates to a can of packed sardines. Pepper in the fact that the AC's been broken since I've known the Clarkes (which is about three years, mind you,) we get hot and sticky in the mix of May and body heat. It's a blessing when we pull into the driveway. Even if Alycia is mad. I'll take her cold shoulder over the boiling heat. She storms in the house, ignoring Madison's calls at her back.

I hop out the truck, thankful for the personal space, and stretch my arms as Nick and Madison do the same. Ugh, why is L.A. the equivalent of a human broiler? Nick trails inside after Alycia, and I go to follow but stop at the sound of an overly cheery voice.

"Hey, Travis!" A friendly neighbor greets from across the street, in his hands a startlingly pink party hat. I'll admit, my curiosity is piqued as I note the bounce house, multiple balloons, and a table set with plates and forks. A kids party? Now?

"You're having a party?" Travis voices for us, eyeing the decorations.

"Yeah, you should come by!" Another neighbor adds. His wife. A small girl runs up to her and the mom affectionately rustles her hair. "Gladys is nine. Can you believe that? It's so scary."

"That's great." Travis answers flatly. As a family man, I expected a happier response, but he's been tense since Matt's house. Madison and Nick, too. Wonder what happened.

"We have a ton of food, if you wanna stop by. We're getting a bunch of cancels because of that bug going around." The wife waves a hand to us, a cheery smile on her face. "So, we'll see you!"

Travis and Madison both give small awkward waves in return. I don't bother. Not my neighbor. I head inside, grabbing my phone from my pocket and head into the bathroom. Alycia and Nick would be in their rooms, and Travis and Madison are still outside, so I have a quick minute to check up on mum and dad.

I leave the door a crack open and call mum, considering dad doesn't answer half the time. The sound is a little patchy, but I get through easy enough.

"Mum!" I call into the receiver, smiling. I haven't heard her voice since she left.

"Cri...tina." The line crackles. "… So glad… hear you."

"You too, mum." I smile. "How's England? And the conference?"

"Cancelled. A bun… doctors… canc—last minute beca… couldn't… get- flight."

"Oh, that sucks. But you've been there, like, three days! What've you been doing?"

"Here, let me put you… speaker so dad… talk, too." I hear the crackled shuffling as she sets the speaker on.

"Hi, Smurfette!" Dad exclaims.

I chuckle, "Hi dad." My back leans against the sink, foot tapping lightly on the tiled floor. "What have you two been up to?"

"We're trying… catch a flight—back home… now." Mum takes over. "We're walking through the carpark to… and heading ov—the airport."

"You already booked?"

"No, but… hoping there's… ne we can hop on… Sir?"

"What?" I ask, brow furrowing.

This time my mum's voice is clear as day in my ear. She whispers out, "There's someone near our car."

"Sir? Something wrong?" Dad is loud as he tries to converse with the stranger. "We would like… you to move away… from—car. Now."

I hear muffled scuffling as someone moves, and I say, "Mum? Is everything okay?" My heartbeat picks up when she doesn't answer.

Instead, she asks the man, "Sir, are… okay? D'you need help? I'm a doctor, I can—"

With a growl, I hear dad scream. I can't tell if it's in pain or if he's scared or what's happening, but I grip my phone tighter. "Dad? Dad, are you okay?! Dad!"

"Charles!" My mum shrieks, and the phone clanks against the ground. Muffled screams fly from the receiver.

"Mum?! Dad?! Someone, answer me! What's going on?" I nearly start screaming. Then the line goes dead.

"No no no nonono." Tears form in my eyes and I rapidly press the call back button. "Please, pick up." I growl through chattering teeth.

The call doesn't go through, and all I hear is mum's voice message.

"No!" I hiccup. My throat tightens, like I can barely breathe. What just happened? Are you okay? What's going on? All those questions and more buzz through my head so fast I barely process the door to the bathroom flinging open.

"Tina?" Nick asks, concerned. "What happened?"

My voice breaks as I look to him. "I-I-I don't know. I called my parents, and something happened, and Idon'tknow if they're okay or what—" The words fly out of my mouth, gasping in between to try and catch my breath.

"Shh, hey." He says soothingly. His long arms go to envelop my shaking figure. "I'm sure everything's fine."

"I'm not so sure about that." I hiccup into his shirt, a small trail of tears staining it in the process. My arms go around him, gripping tight as my head rests on his chest. The height difference between us is hilarious; my head reaches about mid-chest, and his can rest comfortingly atop mine.

"Neither am I," Nick says honestly, and begins to rub small circles onto my back—a technique he knows works when I freak out. "But you need to breathe. Crying won't help them, and it's not gonna help you."

"You're an asshole, you know that, right?"

"There she is," he lightly teases. I chuckle into his shirt. "You never coddled me; figured I'd return the favor."

I nod against him. "That's fair. Touché."

"I know." I can hear his smile. Note to self: kick his smug ass later. "I'm gonna stay here until you feel okay enough to let me go. Got it?"

"Okay." My arms squeeze him one last time before pulling away. My hand goes for the small hand towel by the sink and I chastely wipe my eyes clear of any tears. He's right. They're gonna be fine. Probably just some idiot trying to steal their car. Or mum's purse. Or something.

"Sorry." I apologize, shaking my head. "They just sounded really scared."

When he doesn't respond, I turn and get a good look at his face. Oh good lord, is he okay? "… Nick?"

A thin line of sweat shines on his face, and there's a slight tremor in his step. The newfound grimace makes me think he's about to vomit. "You okay, mate?"

"Y-yeah." He answers with a jerky nod. "Okay, maybe not."

He dashes to the toilet behind me, yanking the seat up and dropping to his knees at the same time to throw up.

I scrunch up my nose in disgust, both at the sound and smell that immediately fills the room. "Madison! Travis! You're gonna wanna come in here."

Madison answers quickly, coming through the doorframe. "What happened?"

"He was fine one minute. The next…" I gesture to his hunched figure.

"Oh, no." She mutters, bending down beside him to rub his shoulder soothingly.

"He's going through withdrawal." Madison explains, looking to me from the ground. "He needs medicine."

I nod in understanding and clear my thoughts. He's sick. "What can I do to help?"

"Grab Alycia." Madison instructs. Nick bends away from the toilet and takes a deep breath, eyes shut tightly. His head bangs against the wall, but he doesn't so much as wince at the thump. "Tell her we need the buckets. She'll know what it means."

I give a curt nod and leave her with Nick, and quickly hop up the stairs.

"Alycia?" I call at the top, awaiting an answer. Nada.

"Alycia, your mum wants to you grab the bucket. Whatever that means." I explain as I make my way to the closed door. "We need you. Alycia?"

"Of course he needs the bucket," she opens the door, a deep sigh following her words. "He hasn't had anything in a while, right?"

She leans against the open doorframe, her height going over mine by a few inches. She gazes to me, a bored expression playing her features. She's disappointed.

I nod. "He just barfed jell-o cups into the downstairs toilet. Looks like shit."

"He never changes." She pulls her phone out of her pocket and haphazardly throws it to the bed behind her. "The cycle's making its course again. He says he'll change but he won't. He never does."

"Have a little faith." I offer. She passes by and I follow her through the hall. "Maybe he will. You can only repeat the same behavior so much before realizing it needs to change. Maybe this'll be the time he gets his shit together."

We make our way to what I assume is a maintenance closet of some sort. There's wound-up wires, different length pieces of wood, some tools, nails, et cetera. Set with an old sink towards the back. That's where Alycia goes, and she pulls up a bucket from underneath the sink.

As she sets the faucet up to fill the bucket, she turns to me with a smirk. "You're only saying that because you wanted to suck his dick freshman year."

"Did not!" I defend, an immediate blush flourishing on my cheeks.

"Sooo did."

"Did not! Just because I had a tiny crush doesn't mean I'd drop on my knees for him. I have some form of class, you know." I stick my tongue out at her before she turns back to the sink and shuts the water off.

"Grab that empty one." She points to another empty bucket beside me on a shelf. I comply as she adds, "And, please." She tosses a couple sponges into the water-filled bucket and we make our way down the stairs. "You have no class. There's a reason we're friends."

"I have some class." I roll my eyes. "I'm British."

"Doesn't prove anything, Hermione."

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, 'Lych."

When we make it to the living room Madison is leaving a voice message for Nick's doctor, and Nick is writhing on the couch. He's sweating buckets. Does this happen every time he goes through remission?

"Hang in there, big brother." Alycia says dryly, though her eyes wave over his form with concern as she sets her bucket beside the couch. His arms flail out in an attempt to get his jacket off. I go beside him, dropping my empty bucket on the table, and pull at a sleeve so I can help free an arm. He mutters out a shakey thanks as he gets the other one off himself and tosses the jacket to the floor.

"We're gonna get you your medicine, okay?" Madison leans over his head, her hand gently going to a cheek as she sets a wet cloth on his forehead.

"The longer we leave him, the worse he gets." Alycia says to Madison. Jesus, how many times have they gone through this? I know it's happened a couple of times, but damn. This sucks.

"I know, I'm aware." Madison answers.

"He won't be able to travel." Alycia adds. Wait, travel?

"Alycia." Madison warns.

"I gotta—I gotta get under a blanket." Nick pants, grabbing one set atop the couch. Hot flashes, cold flashes. Poor thing.

"Mom, what are we gonna do?" Alycia grabs a pillow and tries to set it behind Nick's ever-moving form as Madison sets herself on her knees to tuck the blanket underneath his sides.

"I don't know. Dr. Han's not calling me back, and now I can't even reach Travis."

"Where'd he go?" I ask.

"He went to go pick up his son and Liza." Madison answers. "They're coming with us on the trip."

"Trip where?"

Madison's shoulders drop a little as she looks over to me. "I'll explain later." Not a good sign.

Alycia flips the subject. "Well, it's like after an earthquake. Circuits are overloaded."

Nick moans out in pain, and there's a flash of hurt in my chest. I can't believe how many times Madison and Alycia have done this for him.

"Got anything stashed?" Alycia asks, hopeful.

"No." Madison grabs at the blanket as Nick thrashes underneath it, hoping to keep it in place.

"Vicodin, for wisdom teeth?" I offer. Alycia had them pulled about a year ago. I may or may not have had video footage of her poking at marshmallows and calling them "tiny bunnies," while still under the effects.

"I flushed 'em."

"It's too dangerous for him to go cold turkey like this!" Alycia stresses.

"I know, I know." Madison looks to him with a frown. "I—"

"The doctors! You can pick them up." When Alycia doesn't get an answer, she presses the issue. "Mom? The meds."

"Honey, I don't even know—I think they're closed! They're not calling me back, by the time I—" Madison stops mid-sentence, and I can almost see the smoke coming out her ears from the gears turning in her brain. "Watch him."

She stands from the ground, and as she walks to the door she points at Alycia. "Promise me you won't leave the house."

"I won—I won't!" Alycia nods, watching her mother's retreating form.

"Promise me!"

"I'll look after him." She huffs.

Madison hastily grabs her keys off of the key holder beside the door. "Tina, come with me real quick."

I glaze over Alycia and Nick before nodding and walking out the front with her. "What's wrong?"

She pushes the remote starter on her keys and the engine roars to life in the driveway. "Travis and I decided that we're going away from here. Because of the flu."

I pause. "… Going away, where?"

"The desert." She nods to punctuate her words. "Travis and I think it'll be safer there for a bit."

"Safe until what? There's a cure?"

"Exactly."

My brain follows up. "And your issue is me."

"I can't leave you here, alone, on good conscience. Do you know when your parents are comin' home?"

My eyes swiftly drop to the ground, finding the concrete suddenly interesting. "I… I don't know if they're coming back."

My voice is quiet and low; I can barely hear myself, let alone Madison.

She takes a moment to process. "… Why do you think that?"

"I called them earlier." I explain. "It was fine, at first, but… something happened. I couldn't understand half of it, but there was screaming, and something with my dad… Then the line went dead. I tried calling back, but nothing."

I look up to her, my green eyes locking on her pale brown ones, and all I see is concern. She doesn't speak, at first. Just watches and gauges my body language. Then a hand goes to my shoulder, and she envelopes me in a half hug. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

"I'm—I'm fine." I manage. "They could be fine."

"But you have no way of knowing. That's gonna eat you up."

"… Yeah."

"So," she clears her throat, changing the subject, "Would you like to come with us?"

I shake my head, "Looks like you guys have enough people to pack for. I wouldn't want to impose on the… family trip."

Her gaze softens. "You know you wouldn't be. You're like one of our own, Tina."

The edge of my lip quirks; the makings of a soft, shy smile. "If you don't mind, then I'd love to come with."

Madison nods. "Okay. When Travis gets home, I'll talk to 'im. We can stop by your apartment so you can pick up some things before we go."

"Thank you." I say, grateful. She's so nice. I don't know many others who would do this for their daughter's friend.

"Anytime, hon." She goes down the front steps before turning back to me. "I shouldn't be gone too long. Please keep an eye out on Nick and Alycia."

"Of course. I'll keep them from each other's throats."

"Ha, I appreciate it." With that, she opens her car door and drives off. I have no idea where, but she seems to think it'll help Nick. At this point, I think anything medicine-wise would.

I go back inside, making sure to lock the door, and head to the living room. Instead of being on the couch, Nick lounges on the floor with the blanket pulled tightly around himself. It covers the top of his head and leaves a little space for him to see through, like a cocoon. It might've been comical, if I didn't know the reason.

"Comfy?" I ask. I flop beside him on the floor, gently intertwining my fingers together and resting them on my bent knees.

He vigorously shakes his head. "No, but the couch is too soft." The sweat on his forehead is still there, shining proudly. I internally grimace. Gross.

"I see. Where'd Alycia go?"

"Bedroom." She probably wants to bolt back to Matt's house. Can't blame her.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like shit." Nick tugs the blanket close. "I'm too hot, then I'm too cold, and the room is spinning, and everything's too bright, and bla bla bla."

I comfortingly rub his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I wish I could help."

"I'll be fine, eventually. I know the drill." Well, I don't. He and I stopped talking when he started using, so this is completely out of my jurisdiction. Nick lets the blanket fall from his head and over his shoulders. "Want to help get my mind off of it?"

"Does that help?"

"A little." He shrugs. "Remember our friend Brown Cabinet?"

"Next to the tv? Of course."

"Pick a DVD. We'll watch whatever."

"Okay." I nod and pull myself up, lightly stretching out my back with the movement. I move to the wood cabinet and open the door, and kneel as I skim through the DVDs. My finger traces the edges of the cases. There are some in neat condition, others more loved, with old creases and discolored tops.

As I pull one out, I give a little chuckle and look back to him. "Transformers? By Michael Bay?"

"Hey, freshman year was a dark time for me." Nick gives a weak laugh in response. His head lolls back on the couch cushion behind him. Headache, maybe?

I slide the movie back in its spot and pull out another one. "Oh, Finding Nemo! I love this one!"

"It's pretty cute." Nick agrees. As I flip to the back cover he throws the blanket off in frustration and runs shaky hands through his hair.

"I'll keep looking, but Nemo's always a winner." I set it beside me and go to another section. "Oooh, Mulan is good, too. I think this was the first one I had on VHS as a kid."

"Yeah?" He looks to me, a small smile playing on his lips. "I think mine was a Bug's Life."

"Never seen it."

"Oh, you missed out! I used to watch it all the time with Alycia growing up."

"What was the first movie you watched at the cinema?" I ask, turning around fully so I can look over to him.

"Cinema?"

I tch in disapproval. "The movies, bloke. What, we don't talk for a year and you forget all the slang I taught ya?"

"Sue me."

"I just might, you yank." I roll my eyes before laughing. "Seriously, though, what was it?"

Nick thinks for a moment. "The Incredibles? I think? I don't really remember."

"Pretty sure mine was Night at the Museum." I say. "I discovered a love for buttery popcorn that night. I've been addicted since."

Oops. My face externally drops. Why? Why would I make that joke right now?!

"I'm so sorry." I quickly stammer. "I didn't mean—"

"It's fine, Cristina." Nick smiles. "Don't worry about it."

I nod outwardly; internally I berate myself. Stupid, big bloody mouth.

I'm going to hell. I'm not even religious but I'm so going to hell.

"So, which movie is our lucky winner for the evening?" I ask to change the subject. I hold up Finding Nemo and Mulan in each hand. "Unless you want me to keep looking?"

"Let's go for Nemo. I'm in the mood for it."

"You got it!" I quickly set up the player and turn on the tv. Once I'm done, I set myself on the couch and curl my feet up under my butt, taking over the right edge cushion, giving Nick some space on the floor.

Throughout the film, he readjusts the blanket on and off, and more than once he hops from couch to floor. I'm slightly irritated at the constant motion, but my empathy reminds me that he's most likely struggling to be still.

At the fourth or fifth move from floor to couch (blanket off this time,) I set my hand on his shoulder. Nick jumps at the touch, eyes wide as he looks from me to my hand.

"You're gonna make me dizzy." I softly tell him.

His gaze softens, and he nods at the request. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I know it's hard." I scrunch my nose, and instead offer, "Well, I don't know, but empathize, if that makes it sound better."

Nick chuckles as his hand goes over my own, warm and comforting, and he looks back to the screen. "It does. I appreciate it." He gives my hand a gentle squeeze and I smile.

"Don't mention it, yank."

Can't let him off too easy; teasing was always in our nature.

"Oh, bite me," he hums half-heartedly and snuggles into the cushion, leaning just a bit closer to me.

As we watch Nemo swim to the boat and, "touch the butt," our hands fall from Nick's shoulder and into his lap, his other hand encircling mine as they settle comfortably. I look at him, wondering just why is he doing that, but his eyes are still thoroughly trained on Nemo and Merlin on screen. Huh. Maybe movies really do help.

But he starts coughing, the sound of something in his throat overtaking the calm music of the movie, and I ask, "D'you need the bucket?"

He shakes his head. "That's not what I need. Cold turkey isn't good."

"Sorry, mate. Wish I could help."

"Can you?" Nick pries, looking to me curiously.

"Can I, what?"

"C'mon, you don't have anything stashed at your house? No Vicodin, oxy, anything?"

My lips press in a thin line. "Uh, no. Would've offered if I did." Cool, cool. Not enjoying this conversation at all. Hate it, in fact.

"I just know your mom's a doctor; you think she'd have the top-shelf shit."

I stare, raising an eyebrow. "She works with cancer patients, Nick. Unless you want to score some chemo, you're out of luck."

It's moments like this I remember he's not the person I met freshman year. The one I'd sit on the rooftop with and watch the stars. No, that Nick is gone.

Replaced by the shell of my friend; the one looking to score off me. Got to admit, that hurts. And to think, I thought he just wanted to watch a movie.

My eyes go to focus on the screen, listening to the tales of Dory and her absent mind. That hurts less. And just as the screen shifts to Nemo and his current capture, I pull my hand out of Nick's, granting myself some space.

Just as Merlin and Dory start talking to sharks, Alycia comes downstairs to make some food. "Need a hand?" I call over my shoulder.

"Nah, I'll just nuke something."

In record time she comes out of the kitchen with two bowls in hand and a thermos tucked under her armpit. "Here." She sets the bowls down in front of us and the thermos by the edge of the table.

"Oh, it smells amazing! Thank you, 'Lych." I go for mine eagerly, scooping up some noodles and broth. I relish in the warmth of the meal. "Eat some before it gets cold, mate."

Nick vehemently shakes his head. "Oh, no. I can't do hot right now."

"I'll make some gazpacho next time." Alycia says dryly.

"Hey, if you won't eat it, I will." I offer, eyeing the second bowl greedily. My breakfast was light, and after all the excitement of the day I've worked up a hearty appetite.

"You can eat all that?" Nick raises an eyebrow.

"Watch me."

He slides the bowl over and I pump my fists in the air. "Yes!"

As Nick watches me take spoonful after spoonful of chicken noodle, he grimaces. "Ugh, I can't even deal with the smell."

Alycia passes by us, telling him, "Okay, well, drink some water."

"I'm not thirsty." Nick's voice rises just a little. "Water is not what I need."

"Yeah, I know what you need, Nick." She snaps. She sits by the window, looking out into the street. "Mom's workin' on it."

I watch as Nick's face turns to a sickly green and he drops to the floor, grabbing the empty bucket and retching loudly into it. My nose immediately scrunches in disgust at the smell, and just to make matters worse, the kid across the street—what was her name? Gladys?—starts crying loudly. What perfect timing.

I look at Alycia; she hasn't even flinched at the smell. Her eyes focus on nine-year-old Gladys. "It's her party, and she'll cry if she wants to."

Nick continues to vomit loudly in the bucket, groaning in between when he gets the chance to breathe. I offer a pat on his back comfortingly just as he goes to the bucket to hack up more. And we went so long without any puke.

Alycia stands from her spot, goes to grab her backpack and snatches the thermos from the table. Uh oh.

"Alycia," I hum, warning.

"Woah, woah, where are you going?" Nick manages to pant between dry heaves. "Hey. Alycia!"

"I'll be fast." She replies, annoyed.

"Alycia, I don't think that a good idea." I try to advise. I set the soup on the table and follow after, hoping I can snap some sense into her. Madison would be furious if I let her go. "Your mom told us to stay put. I think it's sound advice."

"No, no! You can't go back there!" Nick nearly screams. He's shaking on his spot from the ground, and he sounds terrified. Is that just the drugs, or is he actually scared? Paranoia, maybe?

"I have to go see him—"

"You promised mom! You promised—"

Alycia interrupts, seething, "You. Make promises ALL THE TIME! Nick!"

He tries to stand up to meet her level, but Alycia yells, "LIE DOWN!"

Sheesh, is this how all siblings act? I opt to stay silent; I'm not getting between the two of them when they're this mad.

"I'm an asshole. I'm an asshole." Nick reasons, holding his hands up in surrender. "Okay? But listen. Alycia, you can't go back there. If you leave you won't come back. Please."

She raises an eyebrow. "You let mom go."

"Not safe." He mumbles from the ground. "No, Matt! Matt is not safe."

Jesus, what is he talking about? Matt's just sick. Bad, but just sick.

"Oh, jesus." Alycia rolls her eyes and stalks to the front door. My hand twitches at my side as if to reach out to her, but I know Alycia. Once her mind is made up, there's no changing it. And really, Matt's harmless. I've no bloody clue what Nick is talking about. Sick, but harmless.

"Nick, what the hell are you talking about?" I ask. "He's sick, that's all."

"You don't know. You don't get what it makes people do." Nick moans. He's on the floor, a sad attempt of a crawl with what little energy he has.

I set myself on the ground beside him, gently pushing at his chest to stop him from moving. "Nick, stop. Seriously, mate, you're scaring me." He shoves my hand haphazardly away, and I hmpf at him. Fine, do whatever the hell you want.

"No, you don't get—You don't get what I HAD TO DO! Alycia, you don't know!"

"Oh, what, Nick? What did you do?!" Alycia shouts at him. She grabs at the door and slams it shut behind her. Dammit. I have a choice; either follow after her, or keep Nick from falling over himself. And if Madison comes home and Alycia's still gone, it'd be better to hear from me than from her son who can barely make a full-sentence.

"Alycia!" I call. If she heard me, she doesn't turn around. Well, she's made her choice.

"Matt will hurt you Alycia!" Nick begs, close to tears.

"Nick, it's no use—" I start as he tries to stand again, using the coffee table as leverage to boost himself up.

I go to his side, trying to keep him balanced, but he's so unsteady that he trips. "He will kill you, Alycia! I'm serious—"

Nick's legs go out from under him, and he takes the coffee table and me tumbling down. I fall on my side, groaning in pain as the glasses on the coffee table shatter on the ground.

But I could hardly care about that. It's Nick that grabs my full attention.

He's writhing on the floor; thrashing fiercely with no end in sight. He tries to cover his mouth, but vomit forces itself into the air. It lands on his face, and through the fog of my brain I realize he might be choking on it, too.

"ALYCIA!" I screech. I try to put him on his side—just like in health class—but he keeps writhing under my touch. "ALYCIA, COME BACK NOW!"

The front door is flung open and she tosses the backpack and thermos to the floor. She drops to her knees on his other side fervently. "No nono, Not now. NOT NOW!"

"What do we do?" I try to keep my voice steady, but, just like my hands I can't stop it from shaking. I repeat the words like a mantra in my head. What do I do? What do I do?

"Don't do this to me, Nick!" She doesn't answer. Her eyes are watery as she goes to his head, keeping it on her thighs as she tries to hold him steady. "Don't do this to me now, you stupid son of a bitch!"

She sticks her fingers in his mouth, scooping out the rest of his vomit and getting it on the floor. He grunts at the motion, spitting haphazardly, but his ministrations calm down.

"There," Alycia whispers to him, "Stay still. Shhhh."

Once he finally stops moving, Alycia's eyes gaze to me. "Can you…" Her light brown hues are glassy as she tries to get a full sentence out. "Can you grab the bucket and clean this up?"

"Yeah." My blood is still pumping fast, my rush of adrenaline still going strong. He's okay now. He's fine.

Nick's passed out on the couch, where Alycia and I moved him after his intense seizure. Must've taken all his energy. Secretly I'm happy. The Clarke Showdown wasn't one I was excited to see, but it kept Alycia home. And safe.

It's quiet in the house. Alycia and I clean the floor, both on our hands and knees to furiously scrub the vomit whilst Nick lightly snores from the couch. I'm grateful for the noise. It's something I can keep track of. If he didn't make any I'd be checking every other second to make sure he's still breathing.

The floor is just about clean when Nick groans, a groggy sigh following. Oh, joy. Please don't start fighting again.

"Welcome back, sleeping beauty," I lightly tease. "Feel better?"

"More of the same, T."

Ah, bollocks.

He leans over the edge of the arm rest, eyes focusing on Alycia. "I'm sorry."

Alycia replies by scrubbing just a little harder at a spot that's already clean. "She should have been back by now."

"Yeah, I know."

"Someone should have called," she leans back and rests on her butt with a sigh, "by now."

"I'm sure Madison and Travis are fine." I offer, lightly humming. It's not much in terms of comfort, but I don't exactly have much to work with.

Nick keeps his eyes trained on his sister, saying, "Thank you."

She doesn't respond; her response is to sigh and take her gloves off. Her gaze is unwavering when she looks to him. "I hate you."

"I know."

Ouch. I remember a much nicer time between them. Guess the past doesn't live up to the present.

Suddenly, all the lights in the house flicker and shut off. I hop up and look outside the window. Looks like the party across the street did, too.

"Wonderful." I murmur. "Just what we need."

"Whole street?" Alycia asks, almost sounding bored. It's like she expected something else shitty to happen.

I nod grimly. "Yup." I pop the, "p," at the end, accentuating my mild anger.

"You remember where we keep our candles and flashlights and shit?" Nick asks.

"Still in the top left cabinet?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Aces."

I head into the kitchen and grab the spares. There's four in it, one for each person in the house. They're set on the living room table while Alycia goes to grab the candles and set them around the house. There's one for the bathroom downstairs, a couple in the kitchen, and multiple with us in the living room. We watch the sun go down, silent while we wait for the return of Madison and Travis.

It's nearly pitch-black by the time Madison comes home. The clock on the wall reads about 10:30, and I pray it's right. The power keeps flicking on and off, long fits of darkness spacing out Finding Nemo from a two-hour movie into about three. At the moment, the lights are on, so we can welcome Madison with lamplight and the rest of the movie as background noise.

Her face is void of any emotion, and it scares me. Madison's generally an expressive person, so the thought of something spooking her to the point where she wears a mask is terrifying.

"What took you so long?" Alycia grabs the door for her mother, clearly annoyed.

"Shut the door." Madison answers, monotonous. Woah. "How's Nick?"

"Never better." He answers for the couch. Silently I shake my head. Uh uh. That seizure was terrifying.

"He went grand mal on us." Alycia whispers, quiet enough so he can't hear.

Madison rests a hand on my shoulder and one on Alycia's and gives a quick, reassuring squeeze. "I'm sorry."

Alycia and I walk away from Madison, but not before she asks, "Did Travis call?"

"No, sorry." I answer. Alycia goes to the kitchen, and I can hear the start of a voicemail being made to Matt. He still hasn't called her back. I'm starting to think he's not going to. Ever. Maybe Nick was onto something earlier. This is the longest she and Matt have gone without speaking, and he wouldn't ignore her calls unless it was something serious.

I hop in the open spot besides Nick on the couch, kicking my feet up under my butt as I pull my phone from my pocket. With 43% battery left, I can probably make it last until morning and get a couple rounds of Fruit Ninja in.

Madison comes to me and Nick and hands him two small white pills. "We ration those."

He grabs them happily and looks quickly at the inscription. "Oxy? Oxy's good." I watch in both disgust and entertainment as he sets them on the table and begins to grind them with the bottom of his glass. "How much?"

"Enough to get us to the desert."

"And then what?" He looks to her, waiting for a response. He doesn't get one. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. And then hopefully you won't need it, mate.

"Hey," Nick snaps his fingers and points to the kitchen, "she tried to leave. I stopped her."

"Oh, bollocks." I snap. "You, 'stopped her,'" I use air quotations at the phrase, "by giving both her and me a heart attack. Don't act like a white knight, ya git."

His eyes widen and I raise an eyebrow, challenging him. He's royally pissed me off today, and I'm not letting him off the hook. I add, "Or was that seizure planned? Please, do tell."

Nick's too busy gaping at my rebuttal to see the grin on Madison's face. The edge of my lip quirks in a smirk; definitely proud that I made her happy for the time being. She's glad I took him off his pedestal. So am I.

As she leaves, Nick goes back to grinding the pills down to a tiny grains, and I go back to my Fruit Ninja level. I get to my grand finale win before I look down to Nick as he presses his thumb to one nostril and starts to snort the powder.

"Gross." I scrunch my nose in disgust. "Can't you just swallow them?"

"It's quicker this way." He shakes head quickly, rubbing his nose at the first inhale. "And trust me, I need it quick."

"Whatever you say, mate." I shake my head disapprovingly, but whatever. Not my problem.

As the power cuts out for the fourth time, Madison, Alycia, and I go around the house to re-light the candles. Nick's just about passed out on the couch, taking up two thirds of the cushions. I set myself on the last section. I'm ready to pass out, too, and I can't be bothered to trudge up the stairs to Alycia's room.

That is, before a blood-curdling screams sounds through the street. I jump in place and bolt to the window, following Alycia and Madison.

"What's happening?" I ask, peering over Alycia's shoulder. Someone—through the dark, it looks like it could be Gladys' mom—is being overpowered by someone. She screeches in agony as he holds her down. I can't make out much else, but if her screams are anything to go by, he is torturing her. My stomach drops, pulse flying.

"Don't look!" Madison grabs the curtains and shuts them with vigor. "Don't look!"

I start, "But, Madison!—"

"Mom, Mr. Dawson's hurting her!" Alycia shouts, frightened. I am, too.

Alycia pulls back at the blinds and we both see that the woman gets away. With newfound vigor, Alycia runs to the front door, flashlight in hand and ready to help the victim. I follow, my mind screaming to help.

"No, Alycia!" Madison calls, running faster than us. Just as Alycia gets the door open Madison slams against it, throwing her whole body weight into the wood. She plants herself firmly, keeping herself between us and helping that woman.

"Mom, what are you doing?!" Alycia goes for the doorknob again, but Madison swats her hand away. "Mom!"

"I can't let you girls go out there."

"Why not?!" I stare at her. At the fear in her eyes. What do you know that we don't?

"I can't."