Again, sorry for not updating soon. Work has been a killer this week, and my imagination has just dried up (not that there was anything there like.) Feeling a little more motivated as I've decided to watch series 7B (best series ok) of Waterloo Rd. But hey, who cares? Here you go guys. And please review and all, I like them more than air. Oh, and I'm sorry for making Michael seem like that bad guy, I actually LOVE him. I will be less predictable soon y'all.

She'd told me everything, the way Michael admitted his love to her, pushed her, almost forced her into doing things with him. I didn't know what to do, everything was just going wrong. Tom was gone, dead, and now this. Lorraine was adamant that we weren't going to involve the police, convincing me that it would be best to just let it slide. At least she was now sleeping peacefully next to me, her arms wrapped around my muscular chest, trying to support me in a way that she pulled off best with actions, not words.

Sighing, I looked over to the expensive looking clock on Lorraine's bedside table. I would never understand why she had so many expensive items and such a large house. I couldn't cope, not on my own anyway… My thoughts were drifting back off to Tom, about how close we were. Or used to be, until I moved up here midway through the term. We were finally getting our relationship back on track, it pained me to know that we could never get back to where we used to be. I wasn't the sort of person to dwell on the past either, I could brush things off, move forward in life. I did it with my mother, so I can do it with Tom. A silent tear running down the side of my face told me otherwise. Checking the clock again, I sighed once more. It was 3:23am, and I'd had around 1 hours sleep. Talking to Lorraine wasn't really an option, she had enough on her plate, and I couldn't exactly wake her up at this time just to talk, could I?

I moved slightly, trying to get into a more comfortable position, when the sheet fell slightly from Lorraine's bare chest, exposing her shoulder to me. It was so much worse than she'd said, swollen, black slightly from the bruise, and there were a few cuts too. I felt a pang of guilt surge through me, where was I when this was going on? My fingers were skating over the bruise, trying not to push too hard, I obviously didn't want to cause her any pain, or wake her for that matter. It didn't work however, as I felt her cool hands grip onto mine, moving them to her waist and placing them there. Her body moving closer to mine, closing the gap between us. No words, just actions. Her way of saying that she's here, Lorraine style. Neither of us said anything, we just stayed close together, nothing needed to be said right now anyway. Soon enough, we both drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

(the next morning)

I awoke, startled, sweat dripping down my forehead, greasing up my hair, a slight scream escaping my throat. I'd dreamt of Tom dying, only this time it was much worse. We were no longer in the Waterloo Road grounds, we were at Michael's house by the looks of things. Tom and Lorraine were stood against Michael's walls, with him stood just meters in front of them, wielding something. It looked like a knife, it had a slight glint to it, but I couldn't see. My vision was blurring, getting worse by the minute. Screaming out, calling Tom's name. He got to him first, throwing something at his chest, causing me to scream, pulling against the invisible force against me. He moved onto Lorraine next, taking his time, my vision was slowly coming back to me. His hands were all over her, touching her in places that only I should touch, his lips gliding over her body. I was screaming again, only this time nothing came out. Silence. His hand pulled back, ready to throw a punch, flying towards her face. I screamed once more. And then I woke up.

"Nikki…? Nik? Hey, are you ok?" her voice asked, whispering slightly, as if she was trying not to scare me. Her hands were on mine, clutching at them slightly.

"Nik? Talk to me? Please?" she asked, again, a slight hint of worry in her voice. I turned my face towards hers, looking at her eyes. They were always so blue in the morning, it made me melt slightly inside. In a moment of weakness, I threw my arms around her, pulling her as close as I could. My face hiding in her beautiful curls, the smell of her hair relaxing me slightly, allowing me to forget everything for just a split second. Then I burst into tears. Embarrassed didn't even come close to how I was feeling right now, I hated myself for crying. It was like being back in the army again, the vivid dreams that woke me at fuck knows when in the morning, sweating and screaming. Except then, I had nobody who cared. Nobody could understand how I felt back then, they all had their own problems to deal with. Now, I had Lorraine. I had no reason to worry, she wasn't going anywhere… I hoped.

Looking up at her, I blushed slightly, ashamed by my moment of weakness, trying to smile and make out like I was ok wasn't going to work here. Lorraine was shit at expressing her own emotions, but when she actually gave a fuck she could pick up on other people's emotions faster than anything.

"I'm sorry about that… I um…-" she cut me off, her lips on mine. Soft, gentle. Nothing too forcing or demanding. Pulling away slightly, she forced me to look in her eyes.

"Nik… Your best friend just died… I'm not expecting you to be ok. Nobody is. What happened with me and Michael is one thing, it can be repaired, I've still got you and you've still got me. But with Tom…-" she didn't finish. I'd started crying again. I still couldn't believe that he wasn't coming back. That he wasn't going to moan about the new timetable, or the new English course on Monday. I still couldn't accept that I'd never see his face again…

Fuck, this was affecting me much more than I thought.