A/N: I wasn't going to post this yet but it's finished and my internet is behaving for the moment - how long for, I have no idea - so I thought I'd do a quick read through and post it so that you have something - not sure how long the next chapter is going to take, hopefully it won't be too long. So, here's Nick's take on the whole situation for you. Thanks to everyone who's left a review, I really appreciate it and I'm glad that you're enjoying it. I will try and reply to reviews as soon as I can, may not be this week though.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Casualty belongs to the BBC; no copyright infringement intended and the song that I've used (Never Tear Us Apart - Paloma Faith) belongs to the appropriate artist.

Twenty-Four Seven
Chapter 7: Nick

Don't ask me,
What you know is true,
Don't have to tell you,
I love your precious heart.
I, I was standing,
You were there,
Two worlds collided,
And they could never tear us apart.

The front door closed with a thud, the dull sound reverberating around the silent house in stark reminder that she had disappeared from his life once again. Nick Jordan released the breath that he hadn't even realised he had been holding in as he sank down on to his comfortable squashy sofa, his mind immediately beginning to reel through the events of the morning.

She was gone. It really was as simple as that. She had been there, talking to him and now she wasn't there any longer. Maybe it had been a little more complicated than that; after all she hadn't vanished into thin air, he vaguely knew where she had gone. The little tell tale signs that she's been there surround him – traces of her perfume are still hanging in the air, that distinctive scent that was just so irrevocably her. It was the scent that had always made him feel a little bit better in his darkest moments throughout the last three years.

He exhaled deeply, rubbing his hand over his face tiredly as his brain struggles to comprehend what had just happened. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Things weren't supposed to end like this.

They had been talking, discussing tiny portions of her life after the riots. It had been painful for her, that much he had realised but now he'd had time to think about it, he honestly hadn't grasped just how hard it was for her to talk or even think about. Part of him can't help but wonder whether he pushed her too much, whether he pushed her into talking about the things that had happened after the riots or not. Whether he had put too much pressure on it and he just hadn't realised it at the time. She had been nervous about talking but he had expected that much – he could only imagine how difficult it must be for her – but she had agreed to it nonetheless. But there's still a part of him that's worried he pushed her into it before she was ready which in turn had led up to her next move.

He still can't quite believe it's happened. Her demeanour had changed, the mood in the room had shifted but before he'd had time to react to it, she'd made a snap decision. There had been little to no indication leading up to their conversation that leaving was something she desperately wanted to do. It had been on her mind, that much he did know but he hadn't known that she was seriously thinking of disappearing again. But then she had changed the direction of the conversation completely without warning by announcing that it would be better if she left. From the outside, looking in, it had almost been like someone had flicked a switch in her brain or something; that's how fast she had made her mind up. It had all happened a little too quickly for his liking, she had barely given either of them time to process the monumental bombshell that she had landed before she had gone. She had disappeared from his life again but this time it had been her choice and her choice alone. Just thinking about it hurts. Stings. It really does.

Before all this had happened, back when he hadn't known any better and he thought she was dead, that she was never coming back, he'd had this dull ache in the pit of his stomach. It's back and it's a harsh reminder of everything that he'd thought he had lost. It's there, slowly eating away and if he's not careful, he'll let it consume him. That's something he really doesn't want to happen. If someone asked him to describe how it felt then he wouldn't be sure that he could begin to try and put it into words. Quite simply, it feels like a persistent ache deep down in the bottom of his stomach and it's omnipresent, no matter what he does. It just won't be shifted. The fact that it's back does nothing other than remind him that he hadn't felt it for a few days, in fact he hadn't felt it since he had met her unexpectedly in the car park a few nights ago. She had given him a shock, there was no doubt about it and suddenly, the last three years seem like a life time ago. She's back but he's on the verge of losing her again and he doesn't know what on earth he can do about it.

Realistically, he knows that he has to let her make a decision on her own without pushing her – even accidentally – one way or the other but part of him just wants to go and find her and demand that she stays even if it's just to make him feel better. It's selfish and he hates himself for thinking it, even only fleetingly but he's only just found her again and he really can't bear the thought of losing her. Not again. He can't go through all this pain again.

However if she isn't coming back, if she isn't planning on returning then he knows that he needs to find a way to cope with her absence. There must be one, after all he thinks he's been managing all right for the last three years. But that was different, the whole situation was different and now that everything has been turned upside down, he's not sure how he's going to cope without her. It sounds melodramatic but quite honestly, she's touched his life in so many ways that he doesn't want to imagine how different things will be if she disappears again. There's no way that he could begin to explain to the way he feels to anyone else when she's not there. No-one else could understand. Of course, he did it once, that much he does know but it was a different kind of pain then. He didn't know any different. But now...well who knows? Somehow though, he's aware that he'll find a way through. There's always a way.

Despite everything, despite the horrible ache that he's feeling; the pain that she's inflicted on him by walking out on him without so much as a backward glance, he still can't bring himself to feeling anything negative towards her. The emotions that fill him, course through him when he thinks about her are all positive; love, concern, things like that. He could go on for a while about all the different emotions that he feels towards her but there are two main ones, the ones he feels the most that he's concentrating on at the moment. Love. And concern. Mainly love though but it's accompanied by a rather large dose of concern. He's concerned that she's not in the best frame of mind at the moment, worried that she's intending to deal with this all by herself because she couldn't do that, she was going to need some support at some point even if, at the moment, she didn't think she would. He knows differently however, he's seen it all happen before on a similar scale. He could never compare any two situations though because you can't, it's impossible, there would always be a defining factor that sets them apart from the other but he's seen for himself people, patients who have convinced themselves that they're managing fine on their own without support with whatever life has thrown their way even though it's been obvious that they're not coping. Not at all. He's seen what can happen when everything becomes too much to deal with, to cope with alone and that worries him more than anything.

She's not talking to him and he doesn't know whether she's got anyone else that she would consider talking to so he's worried that she's not talking to anyone. That she's just bottling it all up, locking it away and hoping that everything will fix itself. It won't and there will come a time when she needs to let someone in, needs to let someone share this burden with her because this whole situation will eventually take it's toll on her and when that happens, she's going to need someone to pick up the pieces for her. He desperately wants to be the one to put her back together again but at the moment, it's obvious that she doesn't want help, not from him nor anyone else. He had been hoping that she was talking to someone even if it wasn't to him but he's forced to remind himself that he's seen nothing in her actions that would indicate she's ready to share her pain with anyone else. That, added on to everything else, really does worry him. He just wants to know that she's okay or not – it's probably a silly thing to think because it's startlingly obvious that she's not – a familiar desire to make sure she's all right before anything else is filling him, over-riding any negative emotions that may or may not have come to the fore in the wake of her sudden departure.

Would it be over the top, too dramatic to say that she had gone for good? Or even think it? Because he doesn't actually know for sure that was what had happened, she had literally just said that she needed space...that she thought you both needed space and some time to think things through. There was always the chance – even if it did appear to be incredibly slim at the moment – that she might return, wasn't there? Or was he just kidding himself? Hoping, wishing, even praying for something that was never going to happen. He doesn't know. He really doesn't know what to think at the moment; he still can't quite get his head around the seemingly looming prospect of losing her for good a second time.

It would undoubtedly be worse this time around, it would be...it had been her choice to leave and if she didn't get back in touch within the next few days then he's convinced himself – rightly or wrongly – that she probably never would. That really was going to hurt. It did hurt. He just hopes that once she's had some time alone, some time to think things through by herself that she'll start thinking a little bit more clearly and then she would come back and hopefully let him in, let herself be helped. But he's not sure whether that is pure speculation, just hope on his behalf or whether it was actually a realistic possibility – after all she had sounded rather certain about her decision even if it did seem like it had been made on the spur of the moment, that she hadn't actually thought it through. Too many lines of thought are buzzing around his head and he doesn't know which one to go down. Sitting there, going through it all in his head probably isn't helping a great deal either but if he's honest, it's the only thing he knows how to do. The whole thing is a complete and utter mess, that much he has realised. It really is.

He knows her and he knows when she's struggling with something which had always been useful when they had been together – he had always been able to spot when she'd had a bad day and he'd been able to do something for her to brighten her day, to make things seem a little less terrible whether it had been something major that she had been upset about or something not quite so big but still valid nonetheless. The latter had only used to happen when she had been working for days on a case and she hadn't had much sleep. Everything did seem so much worse when you hadn't been sleeping properly, that much he did know.

Right now, he's fairly sure that she's going through something that he doesn't necessarily understand. It doesn't make her pain any less valid but it's a lot harder for him to help her when he's not quite sure exactly what is wrong. He can guess though and right now, he's having to go with his instinct, believe what his gut is telling him. However the one thing he is sure about is that she is all over the place as are her emotions, that much he had deduced from the night they had spent together. But still every time he had asked if she was okay, her answer had always been the same, been positive as if she was attempting to hide how she really felt from him. That worries him. Sometimes there were certain things that were just too big for anyone to handle on their own, no matter how good their coping mechanism is and he's pretty sure – judging by everything that he's seen so far – that this is one of them. It seems that she's trying to make out everything is fine even though she obviously isn't in a futile attempt to deal with it alone or to make sure that you don't worry about her. Whatever her reasons behind this 'I'm fine, everything's okay' mantra that she appears to have constructed, it's not working and he's more worried now he's taken the time to think about everything than he had already been if that's possible.

Surrounded by darkness. That's the term that he would probably use to describe her at the moment. That's certainly how it had seemed to him. It probably wouldn't for anyone who isn't looking for it, isn't desperately worried about her but she's seemingly encased in this cloud of despair, fear, whatever – he's not quite sure which at the moment and he's terrified that she's going to sink further and further into this darkness that she appears to be falling in to, not letting anyone help her until it was too late and she couldn't quite push herself back to the surface again. Either that or he's worried that she's going to disappear without a word about where she's planning to go – if she's even thought that far ahead – so that she can struggle alone for the next few days, weeks, however long simply because she's got this ridiculous notion in her head that he wouldn't care, that he doesn't really want her. She doesn't want to burden anyone else with this, that much is apparent but she wouldn't be – he really does want to help her. She can't deal with this alone. No-one could. Everyone has a breaking point no matter how strong they are or like to think they are and going off her behaviour coupled with the little she had told him about the last few years, he's starting to think that she surpassed hers a while back. If he's right then he knows that at some point, it will all have to come out, one way or another.

The positive part of everything that he had witnessed from her so far was that physically she had seemed fine to him which is something that relieves him. Far more than he could put into words. The physical scars had probably faded a while back but Nick's been a doctor for long enough to be able to know, sense when there's something else at play. Call it intuition. Or experience. He's convinced that there's more to it, a lot more, than she's willing to let on. Her behaviour, the way she reacts to things are that of someone who has been through immense trauma and been left emotionally scarred as a result. It's understandable for her to be affected by everything that had happened – most people would be. First she had gone through the riots, been injured, vulnerable, frightened in the middle of it all with only him and two paramedics inside the ambulance to protect her whilst people had attacked the ambulance. Then she had been uprooted from everything that she knew, the people and places that were familiar to her and placed somewhere that she didn't know whilst she was unconscious. She woke up on her own and quite probably frightened out of her mind. Taking all of that into account then, yes, it's understandable for her experiences to have a longer lasting effect on her. Especially if she hadn't dealt with it at the time and he suspects that she hasn't dealt with it at all – her behaviour certainly isn't that of someone who's dealt with things. He's sure that it all runs that much deeper than she wants anyone to know.

It's the little things that give her away, the tiny changes in her behaviour that would be scarcely visible to anyone who doesn't know her like he does. Take last night for instance, she had been quiet enough for the first few hours she had been asleep, content in his arms but then he had been woken – he's a light sleeper these days – by her becoming distressed, restless beside him in the early hours of the morning. He hadn't been a hundred percent sure what was scaring her and he still wasn't, it hadn't been immediately obvious but again, it's something that he could guess or assume. Whatever it was, it had unsettled her. Luckily it hadn't taken much to calm her down and that's something that had relieved him immensely at the time but if her nightmare or whatever she had been suffering with had been allowed to take hold then it might have had a different outcome. All it had taken to soothe her was a light kiss against her clammy temple and then him drawing her closer to his body. The comfort of his presence beside her, the physical contact had been more than enough to quieten her and she had slept peacefully after that although she had clung to him tightly throughout the rest of the night as if she had been afraid that he would vanish if she let go of him. When he had awoken that morning, she had still been clinging on to his shirt tightly, the material bunched tightly in her fists. As the day had worn on however, her behaviour had completely contradicted the way she had been last night which confused and concerned him in equal measures. It had done nothing other than convince him that she wasn't all right, she wasn't okay at all but she was trying to hide how she really felt from him which upset him. She would have her reasons, of course she would and he was desperate for her to enlighten him but for her to do that, she would have to come back and be willing to talk. Neither of which looked very likely at the moment. That could change though.

Some of the things she had said last night and that morning hadn't made sense to him at the time either and in fact, they still didn't. She had told him that she didn't want to put him through it but she hadn't elaborated on what 'it' was so he'd had to draw his own conclusions. It was amazing how she could say so little yet so much and all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and tell her that he just wanted to be with her, no matter what. He wished that he had told her whilst he'd had the chance. Maybe she would still be here if she had just realised that he wanted her because of his feelings for her, not because he felt sorry for her, felt compelled to want to help her because they had been in a relationship or because he pitied her. Whatever she had running through her head that meant she couldn't quite bring herself to let him in, he wanted to prove to her that his feelings for her were still the same as they had been three years ago when they had been happy, content with each other. In fact, if anything, they were stronger. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder. His feelings for her certainly haven't changed even though it's obvious that she's struggling with her own demons or that she's in a bit of a mess. Neither of those things change his feelings for her and he's quite sure that there wasn't much that could, if anything. Unfortunately, she hasn't quite grasped that yet and he's aware that it could take time. The only thing that matters to him is her and he knows that Yvonne plus her experiences and how they have affect her come as a package and he honestly doesn't mind. Everyone hits rough patches at one time or another, he knows that from experience and he just wants to help her get through it. His reasoning behind it is quite simple; he loves her and he knows that somehow, he would be able to help her through it, that they would tackle it together and eventually, everything would be all right again. But how does one convince someone that they're loved, they're cared about when they have seemingly manage to convince themselves that nobody cares? That nobody should care. Nick knows that it's a question he'll have to find an answer to quick smart so he can try and get her to see the reasons behind his actions.

Nick's fairly sure – almost beyond all reasonable doubt - that was what had happened with her; she's managed to convince herself that he doesn't mean a word he says just in case he doesn't. It's a way of protecting herself from any more pain, that much he does know and understand but just because he understands it doesn't mean he has to like it. He's not quite sure how to break through these defences that she's built up around herself, a protective wall almost and make her see that she doesn't have to protect herself from him. He just wants to help her and he would try his best not to hurt her. He would never hurt her intentionally. It just seems like nothing he says or does is going to make a difference, at least not at the moment. He can repeat this all to her and he knows that if he gets half the chance, he most certainly will but in the end, it all boils down to what she thinks. It's something that she has to make her own mind up about, he can't do that for her no matter how much he would love to.

She's been alone for a while now, he had guessed that much. When they had met up again last night, she had been hesitant as if she was unsure of how to act around him. She hadn't mentioned that she had allowed herself to get close to anyone whilst she had been away and what with her behaviour, the way she is, he can't help but imagine that she has gotten used to being alone and that it's going to take time, a lot of patience and reassurance if she's going to trust anyone. It hurts that she doesn't seem to trust him but he sort of understands why. She's had no-one else to rely on other than herself so it's going to be difficult for her to break that habit. He's just got to make sure that he doesn't do anything to betray any trust that she may decide to put in him because that could seriously damage everything that he's working to rebuild. However this could all be premature, he doesn't actually know if she's staying or not yet. But thinking about it, it's almost like she's become accustomed to being alone, used to being let down, to having to put on a brave face just so she can't get herself through the day despite how rotten she might be feeling inside. If she does come back then he's made a promise with himself. A promise to try his best to make sure that she feels loved and wanted. He doesn't want her feeling alone any more.

He sighs deeply again and pulls himself out of his thoughts, realising that he's done rather a lot of assuming. He's been assuming that he knows how she feels even though he doesn't and he could be completely and utterly wrong. If she does come back, that's something he must stop – she never did like people thinking they knew what she was thinking, how she was feeling or what was best for her. It's probably the best way to irritate her. As well as that, he was beginning to notice that his thoughts were starting to go round and round in the same sort of circles which means that he's beginning to repeat himself. That's not necessarily a good thing but if in some strange way, it's helping his brain sort it all out and adapt to the situation as it stands at the moment then it could be a good thing. He sits there for a few more moments before deciding that it's about time he got on with his day instead of sitting there, moping around the place. It's not healthy, it's not helping.

A quick glance at his watch informs him that it's barely afternoon but as he glances out of the window, he's rather unsure as to whether his watch is right. The sky is rather grey and overcast almost like it's going to rain any minute. Everything looks so much darker as it does when there's a storm approaching. It feels a lot later than it actually is. Time has actually passed fairly quickly considering that relatively little has happened since Yvonne left. Nick digs into his pocket and pulls out his phone, ensuring that it is on loud before he puts it down on the coffee table next to his stone cold drink. The last thing he wants is for his phone to be on silent and then for her to phone but not get through because he doesn't hear or see that there's an incoming call and then assume that he doesn't want to know. Whilst she's in this frame of mind – there he goes again with the assumptions, he really must stop them – then he knows that she would probably read far too much into his actions and automatically convince herself that the opposite – the bad option – of whatever it was that he meant to do was happening. That would leave him with a problem. And probably a headache. It wouldn't be good, either way.

He stretches out his muscles before getting to his feet and wandering over to the drinks cabinet that sits at the far side of the room, tempting him into drinking. He casts a glance over it, his mind in constant conflict. A small part of him is telling him that a drink would help him to feel a little bit better about his current situation but he's more than aware that one drink would probably lead to two, then three and it would continue from there. However the logical (and thankfully larger) part of him is telling him firmly not to drink anything because a) it was far too early and b) drink isn't going to solve anything other than quite possibly make him feel worse about things, cause him to do something he would later regret or both. He really doesn't want to risk it.

What on earth is he going to do now? He's completely and utterly unsure. If things had gone a little bit better, gone the way they were supposed to then she might still be here, maybe teasing him, generally being silly or be curled up with him on the sofa as they watch one of his action films that you know she dislikes but she'll quite happily sit through complete with her own albeit sarcastic running commentary for him. She would make sure that there was no doubt in his mind that she didn't like the film, she always had done. He never had been sure why she put up with it if even a small part of her didn't enjoy it but maybe she felt compelled to do so seeing as he was quite happy to sit through films of her choice even if he did point out all the plot flaws. He misses that, the rare nights in when neither of them have work, neither of them are on call, when they're too exhausted to do anything other than collapse on the sofa with a takeaway, bottle of wine and a film that they never could agree on. It would all be playful banter though and he really does miss it. It's always the little things you miss the most. That certainly is true for him.

The house seems so much quieter without her as well. It's a painful silence, almost taunting him. It's reminding him that once again, he's on his own which doesn't do anything to improve his mood. The unbearable silence, the one that he's vaguely managed to adjust to over the last few years by continually coming home to an empty house is the one that fills his house at the moment and he really does hate it. He'd adjusted to it but he'd never gotten used to it – he used to put the radio or television on as soon as he walked in the door just so he wouldn't hear the silence that comes when there's no-one at home waiting for you. Somehow it feels worse, more unbearable now than it ever did before. Maybe that's down to everything that's happened that day. It's a plausible theory.

He gets up off the sofa and walks into the kitchen, deciding then and there that he really needs something constructive to do so that he can take his mind off of everything. His thoughts always seem to wander back to her and he knows that sitting there thinking about her isn't going to bring her back to him, it isn't going to make things easier. Not really. It just reminds him of everything he lost, both three years ago and earlier today when she left again. That hurts. Tenderly, he puts her to the back of his mind in the manner that he's become accustomed to throughout the last three years as he looks around for something to do. Something that's a little bit more interesting than paperwork. He has a stack of paperwork somewhere that needs to be completed at some point – preferably soon – but it's not that urgent. It's tedious and he knows that if he starts on it at the moment, he'll just get distracted by his thoughts again which something that he's trying really hard not to do. It would just be a vicious circle. That's probably the best excuse for paperwork avoidance that he's come up with for a long time.

Shopping. He needs to go shopping at some point so he decides that he might as well make a list of everything that he needs. Effectively killing two birds with one stone in that he'll be able to distract himself as well as ensure that he doesn't forget anything when he does get round to going on that shopping trip. It's multi-tasking, surely? Who says that men can't multi-task? At least if he's actively having to think of other things then he wouldn't catch himself worrying about where she was, whether she was okay or not and things like that – he knows that subconsciously, he probably is always worrying about her especially at the moment and he supposes that's because he cares deeply for her. If he didn't care then he wouldn't be worrying so if he continues along that line of thought then the worrying ended up being a good thing. Sort of. It's the sort of wobbly logic that probably made no sense to anyone other than him but it's the way he likes it.

A little while later, he stops and glances at his watch. Half an hour has slipped past whilst he's been busying himself with the shopping list and he's managed to get a quarter of the list written which can only be a good thing. Secretly he's rather pleased with himself but he's starting to realise how much stuff he needs to buy which means he'll probably be in the supermarket for a while. Not so good. He's about to open up another cupboard – he's come to the conclusion that his kitchen has a lot of cupboards. Probably too many; who needs that amount of cupboards? - when the familiar, loud and rather irritating jangle of his mobile phone filters through to the room, indicating to him that someone's calling him.

His brow furrows in confusion as he stops and places his pen down on the table before heading back into the lounge. Although he hopes that she would phone, he's not expecting her to, at least not today so he assumes that there must be some disaster at work – he really hopes that's not the case. Nick picks up his phone and peers at the bright screen, barely daring to breathe as he stares at the two words that are flashing at him, causing his mood to brighten like nothing else would as a small ray of hope stabs at him. Yvonne calling.

Immediately he accepts the call, raising the phone to his ear. "When you said you would phone, I didn't think-" he's cut off by a worried sounding voice that is most certainly not Yvonne. The voice is too young for her and sounds rather like a boy. Estimated age? Probably between fourteen and sixteen. He listens as the boy continues to speak, worry gripping him as the situation is shakily explained. The boy begs Nick to come quickly because he's worried about the woman in front of him but Nick doesn't need any persuasion, the little he's been told is enough to set alarm bells ringing in his head as waves of concern flood through him. He reassures the worried sounding teenager and manages to extract the location from him before assuring him, once again, that he won't be long and ask him to stay with Yvonne until he gets there. He just needs to know that someone is with her. The voice answers in the affirmative, saying that he will which makes Nick feel a little bit better.

Nick ends the call and dashes around the lounge, searching for his keys. He finds them in the bookcase and he picks them up before picking up his shoes that are sitting by the arm chair. Swiftly, he shoves his feet into them and he reaches for the blanket that is on the back of the chair as he becomes aware of the rain that is pelting down outside. Typical British weather. He doesn't stop to think about finding his coat as he gathers up a few items that he deems essential which include his medical bag – after all, he's only been given a little bit of information so he doesn't know whether he will need it or not and it's better to be safe than sorry. Be prepared. Now he just sounds like a scout.

He leaves his warm house a few moments later and heads out to the car, not caring that he's going to get soaked through. He just cares about Yvonne and she's out there in the surprisingly heavy rain. She's not well and this weather is only going to make things worse for her. He needs to get there quickly but safely and as he does up his seat belt and shoves the key in the ignition, he tries to mentally work out the quickest way of getting to them. If he wasn't already sure, he knows now that she's the only thing that matters to him. The phone call he has just received has cemented that in his brain. She needs him and he's damn sure that he's going to be there for her, no matter what he has to do in order to convince her that she doesn't need to push him away, she doesn't need to protect herself from him. However the fact that she asked for him fills him with a little more hope.

The car starts with a soft purring sound and as Nick begins to drive away from his house, he's hopeful that perhaps things are going to start getting better for them both. Realistically he knows that she's got a long way to go, there's a lot for her to overcome before she's anything like she used to be and of course there's always the possibility that she may never get completely back to her old self. That doesn't matter though, the only thing that does is her. Whether it's the old Yvonne, this new one that he know he needs to learn how to deal with or even a mixture of both, he's sure that, eventually, they'll be all right. There's a lot of work to do but hopefully things are going in the right direction. It won't be easy, there will be a lot of ups and downs for both of them, he is aware of that much but maybe this will go some way to showing her that he cares about her because of her and not out of some sense of duty. If it does, then there's just one thing left that he hopes will happen. That this episode will be the start of her attempting to deal with things because she does need to – that much is obvious but she needs to work that out for herself. He can't push her, he just has to be there for her and he will be despite any trials and tribulations that may arise. But the little bit of hope that he feels gives way to concern as he continues to make his way through the driving rain, knowing that the awful weather that had just suddenly appeared from practically nowhere wouldn't be helping her situation – it certainly had sounded like she was in a bit of a state. He's just got to get there and look after her, that's what she needs at the moment. She needs him and he's more than happy to offer that, no strings or expectations attached.

We could live for a thousand years,
But if I hurt you,
I'd make wine from your tears.
I told you,
That we could fly,
'Cause we all have wings,
But some of us don't know why.
I was standing,
You were there,
Two worlds collided,
And they could never ever tear us apart.

Confused Nick - I hadn't actually realised just how muddled he sounded until I read this back - but confused Nick is on his way to find Yvonne. Good, yes? :P Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and if you have the time to spare, I would love to know what you thought whether it was good or bad. The next chapter will be up in due course, not actually sure when yet, soon hopefully. Thanks again for reading and any reviews would be gratefully received.