Authors note: It's been a long time, and I'm sorry for the delay. I don't know if anyone will still read this, but I'm posting anyway! Thank you so much to all who reviewed the last chapter – Emely, Brookestar, xanaimb, CarbyLuv, nikki, Prevent the Dreams, Allisha and lostinlove. Your reviews were greatly appreciated.

Also a huge thank you to Brookestar. You gave me that push I needed to continue with the story and get it written. I probably would have given up if it wasn't for you. Thank you for putting me back on track.

~*~

Chapter 6 ~ Falling

It's cold, too cold for autumn. My sweater clings damply to my skin, melting into a sea of goosebumps that spread up my arms and along my stomach. I curl up into a ball, pulling my knees up until I can rest my head upon them. The coats hanging peacefully overhead brush my shoulders and hair. I pull one closer and drape it over my body.

She screams again. A harsh, spitting sound of rage and my name reverberates around in my eardrums. I can hear her pacing the floorboards, stamping her feet, muttering to herself. If I close my eyes I look directly into hers. Except it's not her. It's some monster, a stranger. Her eyes dance with unspoken wildness, an uncontrollable fire. Unpredictable, a caged animal caught in a world of insanity, she's walking about the house screaming out my name. She wants me, but I daren't go. I can't.

Fear. It's not my mother I'm afraid of. It's this person she becomes, this anti-mother, the person who chases me, whose hand I can almost feel beating my body with the anger she holds inside. She needs me and I hide.

I'm shivering. My teeth rattle together, though I beg them to be quiet. A floorboard across the room creaks, an announcement of her arrival. She's stumbled into the room. I stiffen and stuff the end of the coat into my mouth, desperate. I can't breath. I don't want to breath. My chest aches with the effort, I feel tears edging their way down my face, but I don't dare wipe them away for fear she'll hear.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, I know I'm on the verge of passing out. Throbbing sensations, like dull pins shoot through my limbs, pinning me to the wall, holding me in one spot. My back is arched in the confined space, my fingers clammy and stuck together.

There's a silence, foreboding and deafening. I'm biting my lip so hard I can taste my salty blood upon my tongue. My hands take up position above my head as the cupboard doors crash open. Daylight spews in to reveal my position, as she menacingly stands overhead, casting her shadow black upon my face.

She lunges. I scream….

~*~

The room stops spinning and I find myself lying on a cold wooden floor. My hands brush the dusty surface as slowly objects come into focus, and my eyes adjust to the darkness that surrounds me. My head hurts, throbs incessantly – I rub it to find the beginnings of a large lump at my right temple. Without warning the light snaps on, and I hear footsteps again, hurried and light.


"Abby!"

A voice shatters my thoughts and reality slowly seeps into my surroundings.

"Are you okay?"

A concerned voice, somehow out of place here. When the glare of the light fades I find Carter kneeling down beside me, his hand soft upon my forehead, his face clouded with worry. His touch is light, soothing as he brushes my hair behind my ears. What is he doing here? I wonder. Perhaps he's come to rescue me, to take me away. I feel my lips smile at him, dazed, and I thank him profusely with indecipherable mumbling.

"Don't move," he whispers, followed by a reassuring, "It's okay now."

It is then, much to my embarrassment, that I realise I have fallen out of bed. And he's helping me back up. I close my eyes and open them. No. It's no dream. I feel my face start to burn as blood finds it's way to my cheeks. My epiphany has cast extraordinary light on the situation, and my thoughts immadiately turn to the safe option. Denial.  This cannot be happening. I haven't fallen out of bed since I was a child. Why does it have to happen when he's staying in the next room?

Acceptance kicks in with a horrible, nauseating sensation. I feel awkward, mortified. There was a time when I'd have loved this to happen. I'd have loved having him there to pick me up.. but not now. It's too complicated. Somehow my strengths are becoming my weaknesses. Everything I hide is being exposed, everything I suppress resurfacing. I've dealt with this before. I've locked away those memories, thrown away the key long ago. I'm trying to show him that I can cope on my own, that I don't need him, that I don't need anyone, but I can't. With every move I make I find myself closer to falling than before, with every word I speak to him I find myself closer to breaking down.

I want him to go and leave me alone.

But I don't. I want him to stay and help me work this out. I want him to put his arms around me and tell that everything will be okay. Yet somehow I can't tell him, and I don't want him to see me helpless and alone. I'm trapped, unsure of how to react. So I push him away.

"I'm fine, Carter," I snap. But even so I still find that I can't lift myself from the floor. I gasp, as a surge of pain stabs at my side, and bite my lip to stop myself from crying. He seems to sense my frustration, and gently steers me back to a lying position, grabbing a pillow from the bed and placing it under my head.


"Where does it hurt?"

"My side and my head," I whimper. As I speak I touch the bump on my head and feel a certain dampness nestling among my hair. I pull my hand away and for the first time I see it. Blood. My blood, tiny red tributaries running down my fingers. I can smell it, taste it in the back of my throat and for a time I stare at it in fascination. Shocked.

I mumble. He pulls my hand away, down to my side and looks me in the eye, not letting go of my hand.

"It's only a cut, Abby. It's not serious. Stay where you are. I'm just going to get a bandage."

He squeezes my hands, and waits for me to give him a feeble nod before disappearing. I shut my eyes and lie back against the softness of the pillow. I want to leave. I want to go, to leave this house in Minnesota and these memories far behind. My throat is tight, I'm suffocating slowly in this confusion. I don't know what to think, to feel. My chin trembles, I'm losing control. My tears escape from behind clenched eyelids, my lips are pursed with the effort of trying not to scream.


He returns and I feel his fingers slowly untangling my matted hair. The cloth is damp, the water lukewarm and his touch so welcomed. I turn my head to the side and he instinctively slides his hand under my cheek for support, lowering it onto the pillow. My breathing slows as he gently washes away the dried blood from the edges of the wound moving my hair aside carefully, so as not to leave a trace.

"All finished!" He announces. I can feel him stand back and inspect his work.

His voice softens, and I sense that his smile has vanished. "I just want to check your side – if that's alright?"

He's almost whispering. Finally I open my eyes and nod, too weak to argue with him. My skin crawls as I feel his hands palpate my abdomen first and then move slowly, hesitantly up to my ribs. His fingertips burn through the thin material of my t-shirt. I take the time to look at his face. I follow the rays of light that reflect off it to the wall, where I see him bending over me, taking care of me. He keeps his gaze downwards, concentrating on the patch of my stomach that lies exposed, while I concentrate on him.

I jump as he presses a tender region, and he pulls away apologetically. There's a soft tugging sensation as he carefully lifts up my t-shirt to reveal the wounded area, in it's shiny purple glory. His hands are shaking, but I pretend not to notice. His face is grey, he frowns, but we both know it's just bruised – no fracture. He replaces the navy material and smoothes out the creases that have formed.

Leaning over me, he places one hand on the small of my back, while the other holds my head and neck. I reach out and grab his arm as he pulls me to stand. I feel him sway under my weight, but he doesn't let go. His muscles tense under my fingertips, strong and supple. Our bodies collide as I reach an upright position and my head finds a resting place in the crook of his shoulder. He steadies us both, then cups my cheeks in his hand to get a clearer view of the swelling at the side of my face.

I move away.

"I'm okay now, Carter." I manage to say as I walk backwards towards my bed.

"Are you sure?" He shakes his head to the side, eyes open, still worried and steps towards me. "You don't want me to stay for a while?"

"I'm fine." I mutter defiantly, raising my hand to stop him reaching out to touch me. "Turn the light off on your way out."

Don't go. Please don't go. Don't switch off the light, don't leave me by myself. I'm so tired of trying to be strong, so tired of pretending that everything will turn out fine. My body is so weak it refuses to move, my limbs so heavy they pin me to the bed. The cold gnaws at my feet, even though the duvet. There's no comfort here except you. Don't walk away…

He lifts his head and sighs, tucking in my blankets. "Fine." I think I hear him mutter under his breath. He seems almost hurt, or disappointed. The light switch clicks and darkness floods the room.

I'm alone.

~*~

I see it in the looming in the corner. Wooden and box-like the cupboard stands highlighted by the inky night. It dominates the room, devours everything until all I can see is it and me. Trapped. The doors rattle in the draught, the hinges creak of their own accord. I close my eyes to get some sleep but it penetrates my thoughts with lost and lonely impulses.

My skin is cold and clammy with sweat. It calls me, mocks me from the corner, and in an instant the room is filled with shadowy figures, dancing coldly on the walls and ceiling. Ghostly shapes swim around my head, their eyes white and rolling. They hiss at me, serpentine voices loud against a backdrop of fear. I pull the covers over my head, but to no avail. Light is eliminated, but I sense them, feel them rubbing their numbing hands all over my body. My chest convulses, I feel blood pulsing through my fingers as my heart races clattering between my ribs and lungs leaving me breathless.

I push the covers aside. Ignoring the pain in my head and chest I stagger blindly to the corner and fling the cupboard doors open. The dark figures start to laugh at me as my hands trace the rough wooden edges of the battered doors. Another voice cuts through my mind, screeching as a diamond dragged across a glassy surface. It's her, and she laughs louder than them all. I hear her from all corners of the room, every crack in the wall. Her laughter resonates off the furniture, the vases, the windows, until it drowns out even my ragged breathing.

I pray for her to stop, to go away, but she doesn't listen. My eyes are closed, forced shut. She's whispering, telling me to get into the cupboard. I plead with her, but her mocking tones don't cease. She's surrounding me, pushing me closer and closer towards the black hole in front of me.

"I don't want to," I whisper. I look around but I can't see her.

"Don't make me. Please - " My leg rises, an automatic reflex and I feel the sole of my bare foot brush the dirt and dust as I step into the dark expanse. This isn't real, I tell myself. It isn't.

Then something surges inside of me, some force that I can't explain, but it's powerful, uncontrollable and I slam the cupboard door shut and step back. I'm shaking; my body shivers with effort, with pain. I'm sobbing so hard that I can't catch my breath. My shoulders rise and fall rapidly. Pinpricks of colour flash before my eyes, as blood drains to my feet leaving a hollow numbness. I've nothing left to do, nothing that I can do so I run..

~*~

"Carter - "

He's asleep, sound asleep, cocooned in his quilt. As his name leaves my lips he rolls over, to look at me, squinting. His hair is tousled and he's not fully awake. He rubs his eyes, and clears his throat before looking at me expectantly.

"I – um, I – I - "

I don't know what to say. My mouth opens and closes, fish-like, but nothing leaves except incoherent muttering. I lean against the doorjamb, suddenly tired. I feel my head fall towards the ground, and I start to turn around. It seems that in my panic I've left all sense, all reason behind and now that they've finally caught up with me I realise how immeasurably stupid I must appear to him. I'm in too deep, I've gone too far. My face flushes on cue. I turn to leave, slowly, because somewhere inside I know I'm desperately hoping that'll he say something, give me a reason to stay and talk.

"Can't sleep?" His voice fills my ears as he finishes what I had started to say.

Relief floods my ailing limbs and I nod, biting my lip as my eyes flood with tears. He catches my gaze, though blurry, and sighs softly to himself. I stand, unable to talk though I want to, unsure of what to do. I wait for him to make the next move, and as predicted he sits up. I look away, acutely ashamed and wish that I was back in my room, buried under layers of sheets, not so open, not so exposed. However I'm fully aware that this is impossible – with Carter there is no such thing as emotional retraction. At least not where I'm concerned.

He peels back the covers of his bed, and motions me to come towards him. I oblige.

"You can sleep here tonight. – If you want," he adds hastily.

I climb in beside him and he places the blanket over me, then leans over to tuck it in. He settles himself back down and I notice that his arm is draped casually over my shoulders. I turn to find myself completely in his embrace, my head pressed against the wall of chest.

Safe now. Secure away from all that haunt me. Maybe one day I'll have the opportunity to tell him how I'm at home in his presence. I often wonder if there's something deeper at work, something that means that whenever my world crumbles he'll be there. From the moment he walked into my life that's how it has been and I don't want it to be any different. I don't expect him to care, but yet he does. I've given him no reason to stay, but he has. He has and I've never told him what it means to me.

The stars wink at me from a frozen sky, the moon glitters with a dusky silver. Recently I've wanted to be someone else, I've wanted another life, another happier existence. Yet in all my thinking and hoping there's one thing I've overlooked. Him. And I realise how lucky I am that out of all the people in the world he has chosen to care about, he has chosen me.  

His scent fills my nostrils, his legs entangle with mine and I sigh contentedly, my cold skin warmed by his body heat, as his breathing gently rocks me to sleep.

~*~

Morning arrives with a slow and peace calm, as the sun rises over the evergreen trees in the back yard to creep into our room and set it ablaze. Though awake I am reluctant to move, reluctant to leave him. He snores to himself, his hand tenderly rubbing the small of my back in his sleep, oblivious to the beautiful rays of light that frame his face. I watch him, as he swallows and shifts position.

For some reason it feels right, lying here, waking up with him beside me. I realised it the first time I awoke to feel his hand in mine and I realise it now. I don't want to leave, because I'm so afraid that we'll part and I'll never feel like this again. I've found something so good, so right. I only need to see him and my heart beats faster.

I realise it now. I realise just how much I threw away when I said goodbye to him. If I'm honest I think I knew all along, I just couldn't admit it. I couldn't bear to feel as I felt the moment those words left my lips and I knew we were breaking up. He was everything to me then, and he still is. And even if we can't be together, maybe we can be friends. I can pretend to go on, living in his presence, being cut by his smiles.


I turn and get out of bed. He's still asleep. I find his dressing gown over the chair and put it on for warmth as I decide to go and make breakfast. I pull my hair into a messy ponytail and tuck the stray bits behind my ears. Then I stand beside him and kneel down. I run my fingers along the side of his face.

If only you knew how I feel, Carter. If only I could find the words to tell you. When I look at you I see a reflection of you and me, and when I see me without you I see a void, an unimaginable emptyness. 

"I miss you, you know," I whisper softly.

I freeze as his eyes flutter open. He breathes hoarsely.

"I miss you too…"

~*~

Comments: Thank you for reading. Please review, I do love to hear what you think and your comment do mean a lot. Just to explain the part in italics at the beginning is a nightmare about an event that occurred in Abby's childhood.