A/N: Hello! I'm back again, finally. This has taken an incredibly long time, I realise that and I do apologise for how long it's been since I last updated. I'm hoping that the next update will be quicker but don't quote me on that. The coffee bit in this chapter was inspired by my oldest brother being hopelessly addicted to the stuff. I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone that's reviewed the first four chapters; I am really pleased you are enjoying it and I hope this one is up to scratch. Also, a massive thank you to Checky for the random (but brilliant!) conversations about anything and everything and for chatting quite happily with me about how fantastic Rachel Shelley is. This chapter is most certainly for you.
Disclaimer: I own nada. Casualty belongs to the BBC; no copyright infringement intended.
Twenty-Four Seven
Chapter 5
The moderate sized room was flooded with light, caused by the burning rays of the rising sun streaming in through the gap where the two sides of the dark coloured curtains failed to meet. The scene was almost magical; the sun lighting up various parts of the room and casting a soft glow over the figures in the bed.
Nick stirred a few moments later, realising that his room was unusually bright. His eyes flickered open and immediately, he was greeted by the dazzling natural light that had filled the room. A small groan escaped his lips and he clamped his eyes shut again, deciding that he wasn't awake enough yet to be able to deal with the almost unbearable lightness of the room. As he lay there, his eyes tightly shut, he became aware that something was different but what, he couldn't quite put his finger on. Something felt different. There was a pressure on his chest and he realised that the unusual weight on his chest was what was different about this particular morning. It was strange but comforting and he realised that he hadn't woken up to a weight on his chest for quite sometime, not since Yvonne.
Forcing his eyes open again, he blinked rapidly a couple of times until he adjusted to the light that had rather rudely woken him up. That pressure on his chest was still there and he was still confused; in his dazed, half asleep state, he couldn't quite remember what had happened the night before. He glanced down, an unexpected wave of emotion hitting him as his eyes fell on a sleeping Yvonne. She was curled up, half on the bed next to him, half lying on him. Her head was resting on his chest – so that was what that weight was – and she was gripping his t-shirt with her small fists. The simple sight of her being there pushed the events of the last couple of days back to him and his head spun as he tried to compute everything that had happened recently. He swallowed, his head buzzing with thoughts. He still wasn't sure how to feel about her being there, curled up next to him.
He ran his eyes over her sleeping figure silently, his dark chocolate orbs taking in everything about her appearance and storing it in his memory. Not that he really needed to, he had never really forgotten her, never really forgotten what she looked like. His memories had become a little hazier as time had slipped by but he had always remembered the basics about her. She was sleeping rather peacefully next to him and that was something that relieved him immensely. She had looked exhausted when he had met her in the pub the night before and he had assumed that she hadn't been sleeping very well so the simple sight of her appearing to be in a peaceful sleep made him feel better. Her dark hair was tousled, wisps of it over her face, obscuring much of her pretty features from view. She was in a fairly deep sleep, one hand clutching on to his t-shirt tightly as if she was afraid that he would disappear if she let go and her other hand was thrown carelessly over her left side, her fingers curled into a loose fist. The sound of her gentle breathing swept throughout the room and he found himself feeling rather reluctant at the prospect of disturbing her but he knew that he had to wake her up so she would let go of him; he needed to get out of the bed – his coffee was calling him.
"Yvonne," he nudged her gently with his elbow. "Come on, it's time to get up." He continued to watch her carefully as her eyes flickered open. She looked momentarily confused but then her features relaxed.
"What...time? If...it...early...kill...you." She mumbled incoherently, her eyes drifted shut again as exhaustion washed over her.
Nick chuckled at her sleepy words, inwardly sighing as he realised that she had gone back to sleep again. So much for getting her to move, she was still lying on him and she was still very much asleep. He always had found it hard to stop her from doing something that she wanted to do, particularly in the mornings when she was so adorably sleepy and in this case, she had got her own way once again by going back to sleep. Some things never did change, he thought in amusement. He gently combed his fingers through her curly hair, deciding that it couldn't hurt if he lay there with her for at least a few more moments. He quite liked the idea of holding her in his arms as she slept – it was almost like things had been before the riots, before he had lost her. A lump rose in his throat at the thought of the riots and subsequent events but he forced it back down, concentrating his mind on the fact that she was right there with him and she was ok, physically at least. She was safe, alive and she was home; that was all that mattered to him.
He wasn't quite sure when he had drifted back to sleep, how long he had been asleep for or what had woken him when he opened his eyes again. Yvonne was still asleep in his arms and as he looked at her, he felt strangely relieved that it was real; that the whole thing hadn't been one of those horribly unbearable realistic dreams – the ones where you couldn't quite determine whether it was a dream or whether it was reality. She was here.
Deciding that it was about time he got up now – that coffee was definitely calling him and he was hungry – he gently uncurled Yvonne's fingers from his shirt so that he could shift her off of him and slide out from underneath her. She automatically curled up in the warm space that he had just vacated, grumbling something incomprehensible at the loss of human contact as she stirred from her peaceful slumber.
"Sssh, sleep." Nick soothed as he tucked the covers around her properly to keep her warm. He knew that she hadn't been complaining of being woken because it was early – in fact, he wasn't sure what time it was but judging by the light in the room, it wasn't unbearably early – she was grumbling because she was exhausted. He just wanted her to stay asleep now and he hoped that when she woke up properly after a little more sleep that she would be feeling a little more like stringing coherent sentences together. He looked back at her as she settled back down to sleep, relieved that the simple act of him tucking the covers around her and the sound of his voice had been enough to send her back into what he hoped was a peaceful dream world.
"Morning." Yvonne's distinctive, soft voice echoed throughout the kitchen an hour or so later as she padded into the room dressed in one of Nick's shirts and the jeans that she had been wearing the night before. Her chocolate coloured hair was wet, already starting to curl and she was rubbing it dry with a small towel. "I had a quick shower, my hair needed washing – I hope that's ok.." she trailed off, her tone uncertain.
"It's fine," Nick reassured her, concerned by the fact that she appeared to feel the need to justify her actions to him. He had expected her to want a shower when she'd woken up which was why he had left two clean towels at the end of his bed for her but he hadn't expected this level of uncertainty from her.
He turned his attention back to making a pot of coffee as a comfortable silence fell over the room. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about their current situation – he felt that they had fallen too easily back into familiarity and although it was comforting, he wasn't necessarily sure that diving head first back into the way things had been before was the best thing for either of them. Then again, there was always the possibility that he was over-thinking the whole situation again; he'd found himself doing that a lot since Yvonne had first fallen back into his life a few days ago.
Too much had happened for both of them; there were too many questions that needed answers, that much he was aware of and he was worried that this closeness wasn't what either of them needed right now. They were treading on egg shells around each other, neither of them wanting to say or do anything that might upset the other which wasn't helping the situation feel any less awkward. He just didn't want to put any pressure on her, he didn't want her to feel pressured and he was worried that she wouldn't tell him if she did. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her away. Now he really was convinced that he was over-thinking things – that was something that he really had to stop. It was starting to turn into a habit. Perhaps the best thing to do for now was to hold on to these precious moments that they were sharing, the flickers of familiarity and just take comfort in the presence that the other provided for as long as they possibly could. They did need to talk and that would probably happen later that day but he was painfully aware that once they'd managed to get the conversation out of the way, should things not go too well after they'd spoken about it properly then this morning could well be the last they spent together.
Nick inwardly sighed and pulled himself out of his thoughts, attempting to put them to the back of his mind for now and just concentrate on what was important; Yvonne. He turned to look at her, taking in her appearance for the second or third time that morning, his eyebrows raising as he noticed that she was wearing his shirt. "That's my shirt," he stated jovially, snaking his hand back behind his body so that he could turn the coffee machine on.
"I know," she shot him a cheeky smile, amusement sparkling in her grey eyes as she wandered over to where he was standing. She looked at him and moved closer, raising herself on to her tiptoes so she could see over his shoulder. He caught sight of the smile that she gave him out of the corner of his eye and it hit him, once again, just how much he had missed her. Especially the tiny things, like that smile of hers. He had missed the way her whole face seemed to light up whenever she truly smiled and it just seemed so surreal to him that she was there, standing next to him (and stealing his shirt) when he had thought that he would never see her again.
"I'm assuming by that look you're giving me, you want coffee?" He asked, suddenly changing the direction of the conversation completely. He had caught sight of the longing looks that she was throwing in the general vicinity of him and his coffee and he knew that depriving her of her caffeine fix for too much longer - especially if she still drank enough coffee to sink a small boat like she had done before everything had changed - would be a bad move on his part; he certainly did not want a cranky Yvonne on his hands.
Yvonne nodded briefly before quietly verbalising her answer. "Please." Her smile stayed firmly on her face as she watched him take two cups out of the cupboard, filling them with coffee. It had been a while since she had felt this comfortable in anyone's presence, after the riots she had preferred to keep herself to herself, not wanting to get close to anyone else. Nick had always made her feel safe but now, after everything that had happened, it was more than that. He was familiar, reassuring and he unknowingly made her feel better just by the simple fact that he was there.
"Do you still have ridiculous amounts of sugar in your coffee?"
That question took her by surprise – she had been wrapped up in her thoughts – and she blinked at him in confusion for a few seconds before suddenly remembering what he meant. "I never had ridiculous amounts of sugar in my coffee." She protested, hating the fact that he needed to ask. It was never supposed to have been like this, disappearing for three years and then unexpectedly returning to throw everything into confusion again certainly hadn't been on her list of things to do in her life time. Unfortunately, she had done just that and now she was going to have to deal with it. Before he had asked about the sugar, she had felt like those three years hadn't passed but one innocent question that anyone would ask if someone hadn't been there for a number of years just reminded her that things weren't the same any more.
Nick smirked, sensing that she was being plagued by her thoughts. The atmosphere in the room had gone from being playful to sad and reflective and he was determined to say or do something to make her smile again. "Three sugars is a little bit OTT." He countered with a grin, hoping that if he continued to talk about her sweet tooth then he might be able to extract another smile from her – it was something he had teased her about when they had been alone before everything had changed rather spectacularly.
A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her lips at his words. "Brown sugar." Yvonne reminded him, those two words causing the memory of the sugar incident to come flooding back to both of them.
"Oh don't go all doctory on me, it IS brown sugar." Yvonne told him, effectively responding to the disapproving look that must have been etched upon his face as she asked for more sugar.
"Anyway," she continued, breaking through the memory that was threatening to consume them both. "Since when did you speak in abbreviations?"
Nick glanced at her, his brow knitting in confusion. "I don't."
"You do!"
"Don't." He responded childishly, even going so far as to stick his tongue out at her.
Yvonne giggled, the delicate sound was like music to his ears. That sounded cheesy but it had been a while since he had heard her laugh and it was reassuring to know that the old Yvonne was in there somewhere, it was just a matter of extracting her. "You can't have forgotten already. You said OTT, what was that about?"
He shrugged. "Less effort?" He questioned, idly wondering if that was a good excuse.
"Are you sure?" She questioned, deciding then and there to listen to the way he spoke from now on in order to pick up on any more abbreviations that he might use – it was something she could use to tease him with, after all he used the sugar incident to tease her so it was only fair if she had something to annoy him with.
Nick nodded. "I'm sure." He picked up her coffee, wondering if he held her coffee hostage, she would promise not to go on about the one abbreviation he had used – he hadn't even realised he'd used it. Perhaps he had been spending too much time at work. "Do you want your coffee?"
"Are you thinking about withholding coffee from me now?" Yvonne asked, her grey orbs darkening slightly as her gaze flicked between the coffee and his face.
Nick gulped. In all honesty, he had forgotten how much of a caffeine junkie she had been...she was. It came with the terrority, he knew that. Her job had been demanding at the best of times and it had meant that she had often spent at least a few nights a week working through the night to complete the paperwork that had built up throughout the day or occasionally, to oversee an operation. The amount of coffee she drank had helped her to stay awake so she could complete her tasks when really, she should have been sleeping. Unfortunately, that also meant that she had become slightly addicted to it. Actually, make that very addicted it. "Would I withhold coffee from you?" He asked rhetorically, passing her the cup. "I don't."
Yvonne rolled her eyes. He really wasn't going to give up on this whole abbreviation situation and she was starting to wish she had never pointed it out. "Thanks." She accepted the cup, wrapping her slender hands around it's warmth.
"What for?"
She gave him a look that quite clearly said are you stupid? "Coffee." She replied as if it was obvious. "You make good coffee, you always did." She added, her tone laced with sadness as once again she was transported back to the life that they'd had before the riots.
Nick looked at her, his expression solemn. If he could resist the rather tempting urge to laugh then he might just pull this off. "Were you with me for my coffee?" He asked seriously, his lips twitching as he caught sight of the look on her face.
Yvonne slapped him lightly. "Damn, you just saw through my brilliant plan." She joked, shooting him a tiny smile as her eyes roved around the kitchen, easily picking out the clock that sat above the fridge. She had always thought that it was a stupid place to put the clock but Nick had disagreed and had always moved it back if she had ever moved it. It had turned into a bit of a joke between them. "Do you have work?" She asked suddenly, moving the conversation back on to safer ground just in case things became too awkward between them.
"No." He shook his head. "I've got a day off. I thought that we could spend today together. We need to talk."
She looked at him, the smile slipping from her lips. "Ok." She agreed eventually, knowing that he was right. They did need to talk but if she was honest, she would rather skip past it. She wasn't sure that if she really did want to talk about it all, not that there was much she could tell him. She didn't remember that much from the riots, all she really remembered was what she had been told after she had woken up.
"If you're not ready, we can leave it for another day?" Nick suggested, noticing that her demeanour had changed. She looked anxious and he didn't want to upset her if he could help it but there were things that he had...needed to know. He was sure that there were things she wanted to know about his life as well.
"It's fine." Yvonne said bravely even though the look in her eyes was telling a different story altogether. "No time like the present. You need to know, I understand." She sounded cheerful enough but Nick knew that was forced, he knew that she was trying not to make him feel guilty about suggesting it. She wasn't ok with it, that much he could decipher but she was trying to push her own emotions away for his sake.
Half an hour had ticked by and they had now moved into the lounge, each of them nursing a fresh cup of coffee. Nick was sat on the sofa whereas Yvonne had opted to sit on the floor, her back resting lightly against the side of the cream armchair. It was silent, neither of them really felt the urge to break the comfortable peace that had settled over the room until Yvonne decided that she really needed to give him some sort of explanation. "I don't know much I can tell you," she began awkwardly. "I don't really remember that much clearly – it's sort of hazy."
Nick nodded. If he was entirely honest with himself, that didn't come as a surprise; he expected her to have some degree of memory loss. Her head injuries had been fairly severe and he knew that it was common for patients with any kind of traumatic brain injury – mild or severe – to suffer with some kind of post-traumatic amnesia although it usually resolved itself in a matter of hours, days or even weeks. It was unlikely for her to still be suffering with post-traumatic amnesia three years later but he suspected that she might be suffering with some sort of retrograde amnesia; loss of memories that were formed shortly before the injury had happened. That was a reasonable explanation but he also knew that she might not remember simply because she didn't want to. He wasn't a psychologist but he knew that the brain was a powerful object and if someone was unable to deal with memories of a traumatic incident then it was possible for those memories to be repressed and for the most part, you wouldn't necessarily realise that it was these memories that were adversely affecting conscious thought, desires or actions because you wouldn't be thinking about them. Repressed memories could manifest themselves in various ways, he was aware of that. If she had repressed her memories of the riots then it probably would have been a way of protecting herself; the brain was literally suppressing what couldn't at that moment be consciously handled. Now that she was back in familiar terrority, it might not necessarily take much for it to be unlocked and then it would all come flooding back. When she did remember...if she remembered then she was going to need support, that much he did know. "Where did you go?" He asked, pulling himself out of this diagnostic mode that he appeared have entered and giving her his full attention. It was probably best to stick the simpler stuff for now; the intricacies of the whole situation could be dissected as and when they came up.
"I woke up in a hospital in London. When I was discharged, I stayed in the area – I didn't really see the point of moving." She answered softly as she stared into her coffee cup. "I'm sorry Nick, I really am." She shifted her gaze from the cup to his face, her grey eyes glassy with tears that had yet to fall.
He met her gaze, an overwhelming desire to hold her and comfort her crashing over him but somewhere inside of him, he guessed that she wouldn't want that yet. She had chosen to sit away from him whilst they had this conversation and he was going to respect her unspoken wishes by letting her have her space. "It's ok." He said gently, well aware that they had gone down this road before.
"No, it's not!" Her voice was full of anger, her grey eyes darkening. "It's not ok Nick and stop pretending like it is. You don't have to try and make me feel better, ok?-" But before he could answer her question, she was continuing with her rant and he sat there patiently, knowing that it was better to let her talk, let her get it out rather than interrupting her. "Because you won't make me feel better, you can't. No-one can. It's not ok and I can't deal with you pretending that it is, you don't need to spare my feelings. You thought I was dead and I know that sorry isn't going to fix it; it isn't going to make things better but please stop pretending that you're happy with this situation because I know you're not. It's not an ok situation, there's nothing about this whole situation that's ok!" She finished, breathing heavily in order to try and control the sudden surge of anger that had flared up inside of her.
"Finished?" He asked, continuing when she nodded timidly. "There is one thing that's ok about this situation, it's the one thing that you've forgotten about. You're alive, you're here and you're safe; that's the most important thing. Neither of us can change what's happened, it's something we're going to have to try and deal with but you're still alive and you're back where you belong. I thought I had lost you for good, I thought I was never going to see you again and I'll admit I was shocked when you turned up the other night but primarily, I was relieved that you were ok. You're here, that counts for something doesn't it?"
"I don't know." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "It feels strange Nick, I don't feel like I belong here any more – I don't fit in anywhere. Maybe I shouldn't have come back, I don't think I can do this."
It took a lot for her to admit that to him, Nick knew that and he was glad, in a way, that she had been honest with him and told him how she was feeling rather than bottling it all up and hoping it would all go away. He had to reassure her somehow but he wasn't quite sure how he could do that. "It's going to feel strange Yvonne," he started, keeping his tone gentle and even. "You haven't lived here for a while, things have changed as they do but running away isn't the answer. It's not you, that's not the Yvonne I know. It's going to be hard but you're strong, you'll find a way through this. You can't run forever, you'll have to stop sooner or later."
"I don't think I am any more, I don't think I really know myself now." She told him sadly and his heart broke a little bit more at her words. He glanced over at her, his chest clenching in sympathy as he caught sight of her. She was sitting against the chair, her knees pulled up to her chest. Her hair was down, curly wisps framing her face and her grey eyes were large, uncertain. She looked so young and so afraid in that instant that all he wanted to do was sweep her into her arms and hold her tight so nothing could hurt her any more but realistically he knew that wasn't an option. Unfortunately, he couldn't make it better for her, he couldn't stop her being hurt but he could try and be there for her. She had a lot to work through, he could deduce that much but it was something that she was going to have to do by herself with his support. He couldn't do it for her, no-one could. "I can't put you through this Nick, you shouldn't have to put up with me now because we dated a few years ago." She said suddenly in a refreshing wave of honesty. The moment that the words left her lips, she regretted it.
"Surely that's my call?" Nick questioned, realising that she was trying to protect him but what from, he wasn't entirely certain. Herself? Her memories, the way she wasn't dealing with them? It could be a number of things and he knew he was going to have to dig deeper to find exactly why she was frightened or indeed what she was frightened of. As for her not wanting him to have to put up with her just because (and this was in her words) 'they dated a few years ago', well that was ridiculous in his eyes. There had been...there was more to their relationship than just a couple of dates a few years ago and he wanted to be there for her, wanted to support her. It wasn't a case of him feeling like he had to be there for her, of course it wasn't.
Yvonne shrugged, her eyes dropping back to the floor. She didn't think that her being there was for the best any more, maybe the night before had been a mistake. It was all so confusing and this conversation really wasn't helping anything to become any less confusing, if anything it was making her head spin more. "Maybe it's for the best."
His forehead scrunched in confusion as he failed to understand what she meant. He didn't push her for any more information, instinctively knowing that she would elaborate further in her own time.
"When I woke up, I spent the majority of my time hoping that you were coming to see me, I thought that one day you would walk through the door but you didn't. No-one would tell me anything at first but eventually I had to know, I had to find out why you didn't come to see me." She paused, her voice trembling slightly. "I was told that they were trying to protect me and although they hadn't meant to tell you-" she bit her lip, pressing her lips together in an effort to stop herself crying. She was determined not to cry in front of him, not wanting him to think any worse of her. "Well, you know. I knew it wasn't your fault but at first, I thought all sorts of things. I hate myself for getting into this situation, for causing this. I wanted everything to go back to normal but I knew that it couldn't. I really missed you."
"I missed you too." Nick told her honestly. "I understand that they were trying to protect you, I wish that it hadn't been so extreme but we can't change what's happened, we've just got to find a way through it. I don't blame you for any of it. You know that, don't you?"
"Why?" The question was simple, child like almost.
"Because it wasn't your fault-"
She cut him off abruptly, tears that she refused to let fall shining in her eyes. "Wasn't it?" Her gaze met his briefly for a moment before she looked away again, her mind awash with doubts about everything; him, Holby, the last three years. Anything that she could possibly doubt, she found herself doubting in that moment and she didn't know why. She hated herself for being like this. "I can't do this." She muttered suddenly, having come to a decision. "I'm sorry, I can't."
"You're going to run away then?" He asked, the words coming out a lot harsher than he had originally intended. He just wanted her to see sense, she couldn't keep running away from things. She had to stop and deal with it all at some point and surely it would be better dealt with here, where it happened in the company of the people who loved her and cared about her. He knew that this urge to run away that she seemed to be experiencing was relatively new for her – before all this had happened, she did try and deal with things. She may not have done that particularly well but she never would have thought about running away. Obviously the riots, the events of the last three years had affected her more than he'd first thought.
Yvonne exhaled deeply, running her hand through her dark hair anxiously. "No, maybe. I don't know." She sounded confused and his heart went out to her, he hated seeing and hearing her like this especially when nothing he did or said appeared to register with her nor seemed to make her feel even the tiniest bit better. "I think we need some space, it doesn't feel right. None of this feels right." She frowned, mentally searching for the right words to explain how confused, how jumbled up she felt.
"Where are you going to go?" Nick asked. He couldn't stop her if she wanted to go and it would break his heart all over again if he lost her once more but at the same time, he didn't want to stop her doing something that she wanted to do. He wasn't quite sure whether he would be able to stop her even he wanted to, she always had been fiercely independent and hated people telling her what to do. He imagined that she probably had put up with three years of people telling her what was best for her and he suspected that she wouldn't take anyone telling her what to do lightly, especially now.
She shrugged. "I don't know, back to the B&B probably." She got to her feet. "I'll call you, we both need space."
Nick nodded reluctantly. "Promise me something?" He asked softly, hoping that he could get her to agree to this one request.
"What?" She questioned, pushing down the lump that had risen unbidden in her throat. She wasn't going to cry in front of him, that would have to wait until later when she was alone again.
"That if you decide you want to go, you won't go without saying goodbye. You'll tell me first?"
There was silence for a few moments as she processed his words. His request was fair, she realised that much and he had already done so much for her, that she felt it would be unfair to refuse him this. "I promise." She agreed eventually.
"I don't want to lose you." He said quietly, his voice charged with emotion. "Not again but if you really want to go then I won't stop you."
"This is for the best Nick," she muttered faintly, a lone tear breaking free and sliding down her cheek despite her best efforts to hold back the tears. "Too much has changed for both of us, I just-" she sighed, deciding not to continue with what she was saying. "I'm sorry, I really am."
"I love you."
Yvonne shook her head. "Don't make this any harder than it already is Nick, please," she begged. They'd only been reunited for twenty-four hours, maybe less than that, but in that time, her thoughts had kept wandering and now she was so terribly confused, she was hurting and she just wanted to lie down somewhere and cry. If she was completely honest with herself then she couldn't see a way through this, she couldn't see a way forward, at least not at the moment. She was utterly convinced that Nick blamed her for what had happened, even though he had told her he didn't. She blamed herself, even if Nick didn't and she couldn't see why he would want her around. The whole situation had been her fault, it was stupid to think that things could have gone back to normal; that everything was going to be ok because it wasn't. The only way out of this mess was to run. "I'll call you, I promise but right now, I need to go. I'm sorry for everything."
Nick watched with a heavy heart as she placed her coffee cup down on a coaster and then picked up her shoes that were lying next to the sofa. "Keep it," he said softly as she glanced down at herself, suddenly remembering that she was wearing his shirt.
A quick, silent nod told him that she had heard. "Thanks for the coffee and-" she waved a hand around, hoping that he would understand. He did, he knew what she meant; she was thanking him for being there with her last night. She didn't have to thank him for that, he would have been there no matter what because he was in love with her – her re-appearance had only awoken the feelings that he'd had for her before the riots and if anything, their separation over the last three years had strengthened them so seeing her so intent on leaving this all behind, leaving him behind was hurting him more than he was going to let on – but he was now starting to realise that she didn't quite know that herself yet.
"I meant what I said last night," he said suddenly, remembering the exchange that had taken place between them soon after they had arrived back at his house the night before. "And from what I remember, it sounded like you meant it as well."
"I did." She shot him a tiny, albeit watery smile. "I never stopped loving you and I probably never will which makes this even harder but I know this is for the best. I can't put you through this Nick, it's not fair on you."
He sighed, trying to think of some way of getting through to her. He didn't mind whether she was a mess or not, whether she was struggling to cope with everything that had happened. He just wanted her, he didn't care about anything else; she was the most important thing and it pained him to see that she didn't appear to be able to realise that. "Can you at least give it a little longer? Don't make any rash decisions, please?" He looked at her imploringly. "We'll have some space if that's what you want and if-" he stressed the if. "If in a couple of weeks you still want to go then you can. But please, give it some time – you might start to feel a bit better about being back here once you've settled in again."
"I'll call you." Yvonne repeated firmly, not wanting to agree to anything that would only hurt him more when the inevitable happened. She loved him and that was why she was doing this because she didn't think he could possibly love her back after everything, despite his words to the contrary. She wasn't thinking straight, she was too overwhelmed with being back in familiar surroundings and the conversation they had just had hadn't been the easiest. She was tired, drained and she just needed some time away to figure out what on earth to do next.
He nodded, realising that he wasn't going to get anything more out of her just yet. She hadn't said that she wouldn't consider it and that was something he was grateful for. "Ok. If you want to talk about anything in the meantime then I'm just at the other end of the phone, alright? It doesn't matter how late or early it is, you can call me any time."
Yvonne dipped her head slightly in agreement. "Thanks." She murmured, moving over to where he stood. He immediately encased her in a warm hug, pressing his lips against her temple gently as he muttered that he loved her into her ear before releasing her. He just hoped that this wouldn't be the last time he got to hold her, that he wouldn't be letting her go for the last and final time. Maybe she would come to her senses after she'd had time to think everything through and she would realise that he had meant every word he had said. From what he'd seen of her so far, she appeared to be stuck in her own self-doubting way of thinking and no matter what he said, it wasn't making a difference. Perhaps when she'd had some time alone to think things through, his words would start to get through and she would start to see things a little more clearly; see the whole situation in a different light. He really hoped so and he could allow himself to hold on to that little flutter of hope that he felt because right now, he truly felt that if he didn't have even a tiny bit of hope then he had nothing.
Um, please don't hurt me? You could direct any frustration/anger/annoyance/whatever you feel about the contents of this chapter at me in a review if you would like to though. Reviews would definitely be appreciated. One thing I'm not entirely certain on with this chapter is characterisation so let me know what you think about that; have I got it completely off the mark? Or vaguely right? The stuff about memory/PTA came from a mixture of Wikipedia and vague stuff that I can remember from AS Psychology when we were looking at the effects of trauma on memory. If it's not entirely right then I apologise. I'm really not sure about this chapter but I've rewritten it at least twice/three times I think and if I don't post it now, I never will. I hope you liked it and if you have time, it would be great if you leave a review. Even just a little one. Thanks.