So here it is, another two-shot. I can't help it, I really like this story and I just had to continue it! Let me apologize for the gigantic mistake I made in this story and "Evading." (Which, by the way, you should read first to get the full effect of this story) I live in the US, and came up with this concept before I had seen "Together Forever" and had only read spoilers on-line. For some reason, I got it mixed up in my silly little brain that Craig went off to LA for his music thing, not Vancouver. Oops. Please forgive me and look past it if you will, because the idea still works if you change the name of the location. Okay, so Degrassi's not mine and neither is the song, yadda, yadda, yadda. Here we go, enjoy!

In the days after I left her, my vision was tinged with crimson.

Standing onstage night after night, I watched harsh lights radiate an eerie glow of manufactured cherry onto the hair of the girls before me. Sometimes I would hit the wrong note as I saw fire-colored limp locks lying almost obscenely against the stark white of hospital sheets. Hair that I stroked distractedly with shaking hands while she told me to leave her and go do my show, bloodshot eyes not meeting my gaze. When I looked at those girls, I thought of that hair, and the beautiful girl it belonged to.

Treading on pavements that lead to the back doors of clubs, I passed numerous stains, all of which seemed to turn a shade of ill-boding scarlet that commanded my stare as I carried my guitar case from the bus. I had stumbled more than once as I saw stomach-wrenching sticky pools emanating from a shuddering form on the ground. Pools in which I had knelt blindly beside her, bewildered at the tears that fell from eyes I had never seen cry before, until the moisture soaking through my jeans finally alerted my ignorant male brain to the direness of the situation at hand. When I saw those stains, I thought of the one she must have left at that gas station.

Sitting in the VIP lounge after a performance, random important males around me made vulgar cat-calls to the girls supplying us with drinks, each growing more provocative and nauseating than the one that preceded it. I gripped the chilled glass tightly with restrained fury as I saw red with hatred for the man who had done this to her. A man who had been lucky enough to conceive a child with this beautiful, multifaceted woman, and yet for his own selfish reasons had managed to abandoned the best thing that would ever walk into his pathetic life. When I heard those men and thought of him, I knew some of my loathing was really just echoing my anger at myself.

The tour I had welcomed as an escape from my thoughts now offered me no shelter. Everything reminded me of her, or of that night, or of last summer, or of ignorant I had been to my own feelings.

I attempted to get in touch with her, but without much luck. When I tried the hospital, they informed me that she had been discharged earlier that morning. Next, the cell number I had for her in high school only issued me the cheery electronic greeting that the number I had dialed was no longer in service. Finally, I called Marco for the number to her dorm, but he warned me disheartened that the only person to ever pick up the line was her roommate, a bored-sounding girl who always informed him that she was either in class or asleep. Still, I punched in the digits hopefully. He was right.

Shows, days, weeks, all began to run together before long. Life became a string of disappointments: another city that she wouldn't be in, another gig she wouldn't attend, another girl that wasn't her. I soon took to leaving the after-parties early and heading back to our hotel, often already asleep by the time my roommate, who had been brought along for on-the-road training, stumbled his way back to the room. If he noticed the change in me he didn't say anything, and for that I was grateful. The only person I wanted to talk to was her, and that obviously wasn't going to happen.

And then it did.

I was lying in yet another hotel bed, my eyes adjusted to the blackness I had been surrounded by for the past two hours well enough that I could count the cracks in the ceiling, when there was a tentative knock at the door. I rolled my eyes and grunted, revolted that my drunk-ass excuse for a roommate had yet again forgotten his card to get in, and most likely was in the company of some equally plastered blonde bimbo. Uttering a disgruntled, "Wait a minute," I my way over to the door, unlocked it and turned around before it had swung open all the way. Once back under the sheets, I realized that the door was still only partially ajar, and the light streaming in from the hallway silhouetted a lone figure standing behind the threshold.

"Umm, hello?" said the figure, in a voice decidedly female...and familiar.

I didn't think twice. I didn't consider that fact that her tone had been nervously hesitant, or that I was still in my boxers, or that our last meeting had been marked by tears and blood and hospital bed, or anything besides the fact that she was here, now, with me. Jumping from bed I rushed to her, crossing the short distance between us in a few strides and forcefully wrapped my arms around her. I pressed my cheek up against hers and buried my face in the hair that had been haunting my dreams for weeks. At first, she stiffened, and I worried that maybe I had acted too brashly, but then I felt her body go limp as she leaned into me. For a few breathless seconds we stood like that, before she pulled away soundlessly

Smiling like an idiot, I fumbled for the switch on the wall and watched hungrily as the harsh fluorescent lighting illuminated her. She was thinner than the last time I had seen her, that much I had felt when we were locked in embrace, but she was more pale now too, older-looking and more fragile. Her eyes swam with unshed tears, but she too was smiling. A small smile, but nonetheless it was one I recognized. She was still the same girl I had unknowingly fallen in love with.

Then there was the sound of a body bumping into the wall, and the door swung wide open as my roommate staggered towards us. She gave a small gasp and stared at him in shock, which quickly turned to disgust. I was surprised by her reaction, but assumed it has something to do with the little tolerance she must have for drunks after everything her mother must have put her though. Then my gaze shifted over to him. The expression he wore was one of shock as well, and the intense look that they shared perplexed me so much that I almost missed the subtle shift of his eyes to her stomach, and the confusion across his face that followed.

Then it dawned on me.

For the second time that night I didn't think before I instantly reacted. My hand curled itself into a tight fist of its own accord, and I moved toward him...but I was too late. Ellie had already flown at him, a perfectly aimed punch collided soundly with his face before he reeled and crashed down into the hall. Out cold.

"Elle, I didn't..." I began, trying to apologize, but found myself swiftly cut off by a powerful jab to the stomach.

Sputtering, I doubled over and she took the chance to place both small hands on my shoulders and forcefully push me backwards, causing me to fall back on my ass. Hard.

"What the hell!" I exclaimed, as she stood over me and grabbed a fistful of my hair, forcing my eyes up to meet hers.

"My therapist said that exacting physical revenge on all those who have caused me pain would only bring temporary relief and not do anything to solve my deep-seated emotional issues." Her hand jerked my head over and slammed it into the wall once before bringing it back to its original position and reclaiming my gaze.

"But obviously, she was a twat, because this feels fucking great."

My head aching, I started again. "But I..."

"Shut up," she lowered herself onto my lap, "Because I am giving you a chance to make it up to me." Her face was only inches from mine, beautiful eyes dark with something I had never seen before. They gleamed with an explosive mixture of dominance and anger and relief and...lust? "Now's your chance Manning," her voice was low and breathy, "don't fuck it up again."

And I didn't.

We'll get over it, sad, strong, safe, and sober,
We'll move forward, and know where we went wrong,

-"Mistakes we knew we were making" Straylight Run

Yay, it's over! I finally think I have expressed everything I meant to when I first wrote "Evading," and I would love to hear your reactions to the outcome. Thanks!