Umm- sorry this took so long. Been fairly busy, and just generally lazy. So here's some more, and I'll try to get the next lot up as quickly as possible. Please review. You know you want to, and it makes me smile

"You knew." Accusatory, anger masking the pain she felt at being the last on eto know, again.

No reaction, she hadn't really expected one. Dry eyes that really should have been dripping with tears staring blankly into the distance, no sign of her having even heard.

Blonde hair dancing about her face as she moved closer, not seeing anything except Michelle's supposed lack of interest, eyes flickering with anger, barely able to keep her focus as she seethed. This was Michelle's fault, all of it. He was gone, and she knew, and said nothing. Kim had thought they were close, thought she could speak to Michelle, had felt flattered that it was Michelle who had offered to show her around, recognising that her father had probably been behind this, but still appreciating the gesture.

But she had known, she had done nothing, and now he was gone. Her father, the drug addict, the hero, gone. Pulled locks of blonde hair back, it was unbrushed, hung limply in her fingers as she tucked it behind ears, emphasising tired eyes. A baby, a boyfriend in rehab, a father that was stranger to her, a life that was coming apart at the seams. It was hard, and she was tired, so tired. Anger flooded through her, false conclusions springing to her mind, blaming Michelle for everything.

Still no reaction, Michelle hadn't moved since she'd got the message, wasn't sure if she actually could. Breathing, somehow, but beyond what she could recognise. Her world had already collapsed. How could they do this to her. She already had nothing left. She'd divorced her husband after he'd given up his freedom for her, she hadn't slept in forever, couldn't close her eyes. She couldn't do this.

Kim was a million miles past anything she could comprehend.

Anger built, seething inside of her as Kim eyed the mess around her. Piles of untouched documents that ought to have been seen to, boxes of Tony's stuff that ought to have been long gone. Kim didn't see the heartbreak that accompanied these, couldn't. She had nightmares of her own. She liked babies, just had never been given one to be a mother to before. Chase tried, but movement was still painful for him. And she'd done things she wasn't sure that she could ever come to terms with, seen things she wasn't sure she could ever make sense.

The man she had killed, barely more than a boy. She'd shot him, taken away his life. He was doing the wrong thing, she knew that, but he wasn't evil, just doing his job. She couldn't blame him for that, and yet she had shot him. And then there was Nina, the source of all the things wrong with her life. And she was dead. Standing there, covered in blood, swaying with pain, her hand still steadier than Kim's, the gun she held far more lethal than her own.

Kim's pain and anger was far from insignificant, and this was blinding her to Michelle's, her friend's pain incomprehensible through her own. So, steady now, facing her supposed enemy with a calm which had been lacking as she stared into the hollow eyes of the woman who had killed her mother. Fingers itch, desperate to fasten around her neck, wanting to drain her anger into Michelle, pain encompassing everything she can feel.

And she lets them, letting go, anything else would be too hard. Fingernails digging into skin, shaking her, trying to draw a reaction.

She did. A startled gasp of pain, more at the fact that someone could get that close to her without her noticing than anything else. Shaking Kim away instinctively, reflexes still sharp from repeated practise sessions that were a way of controlling herself, the way of maintaining her front, of keeping everything locked up.

Kim was on the floor before she even knew what happened, the soft warmth of blood under her fingernails matching the bitter taste spreading through her mouth as her teeth pierced flesh. She rubbed her hands across her face, spreading the blood already there in short finger trails.

"He's gone." Voice shook She ignored it, forced herself to hate, ignoring those eyes that were so very reminiscent of her own. "He's gone and you knew. He's on heroin again, and you knew." Hate wasn't so hard to find after all.

"Yes." Too tired, couldn't fight, couldn't pretend. This was too hard, it had to be her fault, everything else was, so this had to be too. Removing her knee from Kim's back, fingers surprised at the warmth they found at her neck, she had supposed that her blood, like the rest of her, would be cold.

"And you did nothing?" Voice was angry now, so very angry. Hatred was there, overpowering. This was her fault.

"No." Soft, almost drowned my the soft buzzing of the ventilation system. Nothing else, what else was there that she could say. She had known, and she had done nothing. Tears, just one at first, as she slowly fell apart, a million pieces shattering as she no longer had the strength to hold them together.

Kim's response was bitten back as she saw a single tear streak down Michelle's face, dragging a caking of make up with it, leaving a blackened stain as evidence of its existence. Others came, and anger melted. This was Michelle, it was hardly her fault. She was trying, trying so hard, it wasn't her fault.

She came willingly into Kim's arms, this more than anything proving to Kim just how broken she was. Gripping to her tightly, the similarity in there situations making Kim thank God that she hadn't ended up in Michelle's position.

Clothes were no longer able to hide the weight loss as Kim held her upright, uncontrollable sobs shaking her as burning tears fell into Kim's hair.