'Connor!' Stephen yelled, 'get out of the way!'

Somehow among the chaos of everything I managed to find Nick in the crowd, and tried to communicate my desperation without the ability to speak. 'Please,' I croaked.

Nick leant in to whisper something to Ryan who nodded and moved the aim of his gun. 'Anna?' he then called out to me. I knew what he was asking. I nodded. He paled.

'Tom,' Connor said. He turned on his heel and looked down at us. 'Tom, it's me. Let her go, mate. Easy...' His gaze met mine and it broke the both of us together. His eyes start to water and in response- in empathy- mine followed.

Tom grunted, grip on my neck tightening again as more of his weight forced me further into the grass.

I screwed my eyes shut and tried to stop the rumble of pain that bubbled through me.

'Easy!' Connor prompted again.

But my oxygen was quickly depleting, much quicker than before and in a much more bruising grip. I gasped and groaned simultaneously.

'You remember Thursday nights. Don't ya? Battlestar Galactica? Blake 7? Pepperoni pizza? Gin and tonic.' Connor smiled. 'The late-night trips to the supermarket on the skateboards. Renegades and the pink guitar. The Hitchhikers. You, me and Duncan. And Anna. And Will.'

There was a long silence– a prayer– that the recognition would follow. Tom's head slowly cocked to one side.

His mouth opened. 'Connor?'

He suddenly released the death grip on my neck and I threw my head back, gasping.

'Yeah,' Connor replied. He wiped a tear from his cheek before Tom could see. 'Yeah... they were good times weren't they? You can fight the dark side mate. You really can.'

The sound of my ragged breathing seemed to catch his attention because a moment later his head circled back to me, his expression wide eyed and horrified as he took in exactly where his hands were resting and the wet patch of his cum on my jeans.

His mouth quivered. 'Anna...?'

'Yeah...'

'Oh god. Oh my god. I'm sorry.'

'I know,' I said gently, 'I know, Tom... it's okay.' My own shaky hands reached around to rest over his.

A moment later he noticed he was on top of me and shifted his weight back onto his knees. It felt like a rock had been lifted off my chest. He climbed off me but I was too weak to push myself away from him. I propped myself up on my elbows and gasped desperately for air.

'Okay, now you too Connor, move away, he will kill you,' Ryan ordered.

Connor looked at me. I held his gaze, trying to blink back the tears in my eyes.

'No. He won't, he's my friend,' he resolved.

'It was a conspiracy, wasn't it Con?'

'Big time. Right to the top.'

'Wasn't it mind control?'

'Yeah.'

'Brilliant.'

Then Tom lurched forward the same way he did in the lab before, the way he did to slam his mouth down over mine, and I was petrified that he was about to infect Connor too. But Connor didn't move; he didn't care, and I had just enough time to realise that honestly I didn't either; I was already infected and I wasn't going anywhere.

Tom's head fell into Connor's chest, his mouth muffled by Connors jacket but I made out a string of broken sobs.

'You're okay.'

'They tried to take me over, but I fought them Con. I fought them.'

'You did a really good job,' Connor said softly.

'Am I a hero?'

Connor nodded.

Fisting my hand in my jacket, I bit down hard on my lower lip because I knew; I'd seen this before when a body goes slack at the moment of death and falls to the floor because whatever was inside is gone.

He was gone.

I felt a tear down my cheek. I didn't bother to wipe it away; all I could focus on now was Connor. I said his name desperately. He looked back at me, jaw set, as Stephen came striding down the steps of the bleachers and beelined for us. But neither of us moved, we just kept breathing and staring at each other without a word.

Stephen crouched down beside me but I held up a hand, attention non-wavering, just as if to say not yet.

Nick was the next to join us. His steps seemed methodical as he approached, wide eyes still trained on me like I was going to be the next one who would need to be held at gun point if we didn't move quickly.

'I can't do this anymore,' Connor said in nothing more than a whisper.

I tried to sit up, to push my weight forward and move over to him but nothing happened. I felt an arm settle around my back to hoist me up and after a moment supporting my own weight Stephen let go.

Then I tried to take a step but my legs buckled. I started going down. They all moved to try and catch me but Connor got there first; in his desperation he was quick, he always had been because he was somewhat calm and collected under pressure in life threatening situations and this was far from the first time I was grateful for it.

'Listen to me,' I returned, voice hoarse and cracking, 'we need you.'

'If I hadn't have been involved - Tom would have still been alive.'

'No.' I tried to lower my voice, but I shouldn't have bothered because it was already so quiet I doubted anyone else had heard it anyway. And after emitting nothing but some strange high-pitched squeak, I cleared my throat.

Connor adjusted his arms around me to try and hold me tighter.

'There's a hand full of people in the whole world that know what's going on here, and you're one of them. I am one of them and I can't do this without you. Knowing all of that would make- it would have made Tom so happy, he'd have loved it. You can't. You can't give up because...' I paused as my eyes clouded over again and I had to blink to clear the tears so I could see him. 'I'd be dead without you. Whatever you want to do Connor, I'm going with you, always. But we belong here. I know you know that.'

His own tears fell down his cheeks. He nodded. 'Together?'

'Of course.'

'Okay.' He replied.

I buried my face into his jacket as he leant his chin on the top of my head.

'I love you,' I mumbled. And he heard it. He squeezed me tighter.

'I love you too.'

'Anna?' At the sound of my name I pulled back, suddenly aware of the faces watching me like I was a bomb in need of defusal and I quickly rubbed the tears from my cheeks like that would stop the others from seeing them. 'We need to get you to a hospital right now,' Stephen said.

I lifted my eyebrow. 'Right,' I remembered. 'I'm gonna need to throw up first, I swallowed a lot of a saliva and seriously I should get that out quickly.'

Nick nodded. I could see he wanted to say something. He still had that same expression- the wide-eyed fear- the horror was etched into his face. 'And um-'

'Well most of his cum came out of me when he pulled out, but I'm gonna need to be checked for traces of the parasite. No arguments this time. I should definitely go to the hospital.'

An intense look of furiousness and concern crossed Nick's features. 'I'm coming with you.'

I nodded. 'Okay.'

My legs were working better by the time we reached the hospital. It had gotten dark and to some extent that was kind because it meant nobody could see me hobbling into the E.R– Connor behind me trying to keep me upright.

Someone had called ahead, a group of doctors were all standing around inside the entrance with a wheelchair but I shook my head. 'Thanks,' I said politely upon approach, 'but I think I'm gonna walk. Where-'

'Anna?'

I turned at the sound of my name and saw a familiar face. 'Doctor Lewis?'

'What are you doing here?' She waved away the other doctors standing around and they all dispersed.

'It's sort of a long story,' I replied.

She gestured for a gurney this time and a nurse started over towards us but again I shook my head. 'Please, that isn't necessary. I know I look worse for wear but I'm okay... sort of...'

'What happened?'

'To start... I have a mild concussion, blunt force trauma to the stomach, probably some internal bruising, horizontal laceration of the buccal mucosa, I administered 10 stitches but I did it in a moving vehicle so they might need to be checked,' I started to rattle off, 'and then–'

'There's more?' she asked.

'Oh yeah.'

'Come with me.'

She started leading us off towards an adjacent hallway, presumably to take us to a room to start admitting care.

'I swallowed a lot of blood and contaminated saliva.'

'Stomach pump?' she suggested.

'To be safe that would be a good idea. I've already thrown up most of it but we need to make sure there isn't any traces of it left... bruised oesophagus. Definetly done some sort of damage to my larynx. Sexual violence internal trauma. I'm gonna need an internal examination.'

She looked up in concern. 'Do you need me to call the police?'

I shook my head. 'It's not that sort of situation.' We all turned into a hallway leading to the wards. 'I might be infected with a parasite. It's not contagious; I can't pass it on without cross-contaminating blood or saliva. You'll need a toxicology report to run my blood work. And I'll need an M.R.I.'

'My God. Alright, you'll need to stay in overnight but I'm guessing you knew that already.'

I hummed. 'Yeah, any chance of an EBC?'

'Of course. There wouldn't be any point doing an HCG for another two weeks though. So we won't know if it's worked until then.'

'I had extensive internal reconstructive surgery after a gunshot wound so it's highly unlikely there'd be any kind of fertilization or implantation in the endometrium, especially considering I've only got one kidney.'

'You've really been through the ringer, huh?'

'Yeah,' I replied.

'And the bruises around your wrist...' she said, 'is it fractured?'

I'd forgotten all about it. 'Oh, no. I was handcuffed.'

She blinked at me in confusion. Then, after a second or two of complete silence, she continued, 'are you sure you don't need me to call the police.'

'Yeah.'

Then, over her shoulder she directed to the guys still following us 'she'll need some clothes for when she's discharged.'

'I'll go,' Stephen offered, 'oh... um... where do you live?'

'It's easier to give you a postcode,' I heard Connor answer. He pulled out his notebook and pen and quickly scribbled it down. 'Someone'll be there to let you in.'

'What, like a landlord?'

'The housekeeper, or groundsman or something.'

Stephen nodded, took the ripped-out notebook page from Connor and turned back to head towards the exit.

'And these guys, are they staying?'

'Yeah.'

'If she needs any blood doc–' Connor started, 'I don't know how much she lost, or if she needs a transfusion or something...'

'He's my cousin,' I translated, knowing the intention of his declaration was getting lost, 'we're both AB negative, which is lucky I guess.'

'Okay,' she showed Nick and Connor into a room, 'wait here for her. We'll take you down to change, put you in for an M.R.I immediately and I'll run your bloodwork while you're in there.'

'Oh, I know this annoying but any chance you've got some scrubs, I really don't want to have to put a gown on.'

'Of course,' she nodded. 'I'll sort that out.'

'Thank you.'

I was pretty much back to walking normally by the time I'd returned from the M.R.I. I saw Connor curled up in the orthopaedic chair by the bedside before I even re-entered the room. Nick looked up as I came in, his eyes flicking briefly down my body in my blue scrubs before his eyebrows rose. 'Look at you.'

I glanced down at myself. 'What?' I questioned.

He started shaking his head, 'no, nothing I just... you look so at home like that.'

I continued towards him, finding myself rolling my eyes as I pattered with sock covered feet to the bed. 'Ha,' I managed to laugh slightly in response. 'Thanks.' He reached out and offered a hand to help me to climb up onto the mattress to sit next to him. 'How's Connor?'

'He hasn't said anything.' I looked past Nick, back to Connor huddled up in the chair and traced the stitches on the inside of my cheek with my tongue again. 'I'm so sorry about Tom.'

Sighing, but still just about managing a smile, I brought my attention back to him. 'You don't–you don't have to say that.'

'He was your friend.'

I fell into the silence, took my lip beneath my teeth and nodded. Then, shuffling, I shifted my legs to prop them over his knee and in turn he put his hand down on the mattress behind me.

'Are you in pain?'

'A little,' I murmured.

'Where?'

Where did it not hurt? My face was sore, the pain in my cheek was billowing out like wildfire spreading up over my forehead and down my neck. My throat felt exceptionally sore and was purpling like pansies. My stomach ached like hell, both from emptiness and the queasiness of the blood and I knew that it wouldn't get better until the bruising faded inside me and it would only get worse through the night once somebody had come in to pump my stomach.

But the worse pain, without a doubt, was the rawness between my legs. Whenever I moved it felt like a chainsaw was ripping laterally through my vagina.

I tried to suggest all that through raising my eyebrows.

'Oh...' Nick said- in what I assumed was realisation. 'God, Anna. What he did to you–'

'It wasn't Tom.' I shook my head. 'He wouldn't have ever- ever put even his hands on anyone like that. The parasite changed him. I looked into his eyes but he wasn't him anymore.'

'I am... so sorry.'

I shook my head. 'It wasn't your fault.'

'But-'

'Hey,' I interrupted. I lifted my hand and cupped his cheek. 'It wasn't your fault, Nick,' I repeated. 'It wasn't anyone's fault.'

He nodded but he had a look in his eye like he didn't believe it. I could tell he was internalising all of it; he was quieter than usual and moved with a heaviness to him like he wasn't coping well with the situation.

His gaze dropped to my lips and he leant in like he wanted to kiss me but I had to quickly pull back. 'No Nick,' I said gently in reminder. 'You could get in infected.'

He groaned slightly, dropping his head to my shoulder and turning his face slightly to press that kiss to the base of my neck. 'Stupid bloody anomaly.'

I couldn't respond; a short cough brought both our attentions over to the doctor lingering in the doorway to the room. 'Anna?' She questioned. 'I've got your blood work results; do you want me to...'

I held out my hands to take the pages from her. 'That's okay... I can...' She handed them over, smiled, and turned to leave again. I quickly flicked through the pages. 'Uh.'

'What?' Nick questioned. His arm moved up from the bed to rest on the small of my back. 'What is it?' He looked down at the pages in my hand but I knew he wouldn't be able to understand any of it.

'There's nothing inside me,' I said. 'There's no traces of any sort of parasite, only an elevated count of white blood cells.'

'What does that mean?'

'Well antibodies and antigens are produced in white blood cells. We can wait for the M.R.I results to confirm but I'm not infected. And if I'm not infected I'm not gonna need to go in for surgery.'

Nick squeezed me tighter and sighed out in relief. I turned my head towards him. 'Do you think...'

'Helen?' I conjected.

'The inoculation.'

'Then she's just saved my life.'

A little while later a doctor came in to pump my stomach, and knowing it wasn't something Nick would want to see I sent him out for coffee and something to eat.

I had to lie down once they'd finished. Doctor Lewis came back, suggested I went on some mild intravenous steroids overnight, put in the cannula and then went back to work.

I didn't see her again.

I tried to get comfy. The only way I could do that was on one hip leaning back against the pillows with my knees drawn up to my chest.

After that, there was a long silence. Connor was still sleeping in the chair but I wasn't going to wake him. There was something in his expression that lulled me into a sleepy sort of state that I didn't even notice I was in until–mid-blink– Stephen appeared in the doorway.

But he didn't move. He didn't try to come in and just stared at me.

I cocked my head. 'Stephen?'

He didn't reply straight away, he kept his hand firmly fisted around the straps of a duffle bag in his arms and didn't move his attention from my face.

'You know,' he started, his growly voice barely above a whisper, 'Duncan said, right after we realised they'd turned you into bait leaving you with that dodo: Tom's always been crazy about you,Anna, "Even long before Will."'

I felt my lips part, eyes widening at the mention of his name.

Stephen walked towards me. 'And I thought that was strange because I didn't know who he was talking about until I found this.' And he threw down a photo in a frame onto the hospital bed. 'At your house...'

I picked it up and looked down. I couldn't speak.

'I can't believe you. You gave me so much shit about asking you out when I had been poisoned and this whole time you've been cuddling up to some university professor when you've got someone waiting for you at home.'

Still, I had nothing. I don't know where he'd found it. Perhaps he'd stumbled into my almost perfectly preserved mum's bedroom. It had obvious been hiding somewhere I hadn't been since the day it all happened. I hadn't seen the picture since then. I hadn't even remembered that it existed.

'A fiancé. Well? That's him, isn't it? This is Will. Does Nick know about this?'

I swallowed down the nausea.. 'Stephen...' My voice cracked

'You are disgusting, Anna. At least what I did had some explanation but. How dare you make me feel like shit for that. How dare you–'

'Will's dead.'

And I let sit in the quiet as slowly those cogs turned in his head and I watched him. I was sort of breathless with distress, so distraught by it that I couldn't even think to move or react. I could see the pool of blood seeping across the floorboard. I'd never said it out loud before. Connor had spread the news. Mum's funeral was first. Dad's service– though neither of us had much wanted one– was a few days after that. Will's funeral was at the end of that week. They all seemed to blur into one same cloud of darkness now. And somehow those services had reminded me of being two years old, sitting on a church pew, legs dangling off the end, clinging on to a 6 year-old Connors' hand at the memorial service of his own mum and dad after their accident.

'He's dead,' I repeated. I felt my face finally contort into some sort of reaction. Anger. I was angry.

'I'm-'

'Get out.'

I didn't see anyone for a month after getting discharged. I'd been avoiding people, swerving texts, ignoring phone calls, it wasn't really a surprise when the sound of the doorbell echoed through the great halls of the house.

I was down in the pantry in the basement when it happened and giving up temporarily with my hunt for coffee, I came out the pantry, shut the wooden doors behind me, walked through the downstairs kitchen to the old back-staircase up into the foyer. The door opened out in the entranceway– the grand hallway– beneath the main marble staircase. I jogged across the glossy mahogany floorboards to the doors.

I had to put my whole-body weight into pulling the door open and even then it was still a bit of a struggle.

'Anna?'

My chest tightened at the sound of his voice.

I looked up to him. 'Nick?'

A moment of time passed where all I could do was blink at him. For a second I wasn't sure he was real. It had been driving me crazy thinking about him these past few weeks and all the while knowing that I absolutely shouldn't have been.

He was even more handsome than I had remembered.

'I've been calling,' he said.

'I know.'

'And texting.'

'Yes.'

'You haven't replied.'

'No.'

I didn't want to tell him. I didn't want to say that ever since I held that picture of my long dead love I hadn't been able to think about anything else but the professor.

It didn't make sense.

Two and a half years ago I was engaged and my fiancé died but I was thinking about someone else now.

'Why not?' he asked.

I took a deep breath. 'You better come in.'

I stood back from the door. He stepped inside.

I saw him look up to immediately take in the surroundings. His attention flitted from the staircase to the paintings on the walls. The drawing room door was open. He glanced inside and looked down the ever expansive corridor all the way past the morning room, the billiards room and the study.

His eyes were wide when they finally came back to me. 'I... err... I should probably let you know that we haven't had any other anomalies. The one beneath the Aldwych closed a week ago. There was a lot of paperwork. I tried to write a report about what you said in the hospitals with the... poison and the ink but I'm not sure it made any sense.' He noticed a chandelier above our head and looked up at it. 'Anna, have you quit without– without– Do you live here?'

I shrugged. 'Sort of.' So I was sort of rich. I didn't like it. 'And I know; Connor's been telling me everything. It's not that I don't want to be there, it's just taken a little longer than the normal recommended recovery time. Internal bruising is a bitch.'

'How are you?'

'Better. Fine. I feel fine.'

'Then what?' he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders.

'Are you ready to come back to work?'

'Yes,' I replied far too quickly, 'yes, yeah, I need to do something. Honestly, being here... it's just–'

'– yeah, sorry but how can you sort of live here–'

'Well, I technically sold this place two weeks ago. Sold everything, actually. There's been movers here all week taking stuff. Put some money in the bank for Connor but the rest of it is for the charities and project funding. For your work, actually, I put a donation in– you don't need to know that.'

'What?'

I grimaced and turned on my heel to head back towards the staircase. 'Do you want some coffee?'

'Anna.' I heard his footsteps following after me. Then his hand wrapped around my elbow. 'What's going on with you? Where's Connor?'

'He's moved in with Abby. He's kipping on her couch till he can find somewhere more permanent. I mean that much money would buy him a big house anywhere in the world you know, but he might want to save it. Maybe he'll have kids someday. Maybe he'll want to save it for them.'

'Anna!'

His grip tightened on my arm and it served to pull me somewhat back to reality.

'Hmm?'

His eyes flittered up and down my body suspiciously. 'Have you been eating enough?'

I laughed. 'Of course, I've still got money to eat.' Sort of. 'I'm just not keeping anything down.' His immediate reaction was animated enough that I knew what he was thinking. 'I'm not pregnant,' I confirmed, 'don't worry. Doctors told me after that bullet... I can't have kids.'

'Then what?'

Perhaps I'd been alone too long. This empty house was starting to play tricks on me and I wanted to get out of it. I'd stared at the spot on the dining room floor where they'd died and missed the whole of wednesday. Didn't even realise it. The eyes. Tom's eyes when I saw him had recounted that same feeling as when I looked into Will's when he was dead, lying in a pool of his own blood, still, lifeless, but with his eyes open and staring into me like he was mad I didn't join him wherever he was... I should have been killed with them.

'I feel like I'm living it again,' I said.

Nick swallowed a lump in his throat and slowly nodded. He slipped his hand into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the photo from before.

'You left this at the hospital.' I immediately looked away from it. 'And considering the fact that you left it with my jacket, the one you were wearing when Tom attacked you, I can only assume you meant for me to see this.'

'That's Will,' I said. I could feel the pang of grief bubble up through me. 'That story I told you...' I found myself suddenly looking over to the floorboard inside the open door of the dining room. 'My mum wasn't alone when my dad got that gun. Will was in the dining room with her. The first shot missed, it went straight into the wall, and he'd got to the door before the second one hit him. Head shot. He was dead before he hit the floor.' A exhaled a long and shaky breath. 'I don't know why I didn't tell you.'

'Because you don't owe me an explanation, Anna,' Nick replied.

'Please put that away. I don't want such a morbid reminder.'

He turned it over to hide it from me. 'Remembering the dead isn't morbid, Anna.'

'Of course it is. We call them the dead. How can it be anything else, because when we remember them we have to remember that they died? I grew up here, I lived here with him, how can I stay with him gone? How can I ever truly let go?'

'Where are you going to live?'

I shook my head. 'I don't know. I don't have anywhere to go.'

'–with me.'

'What?'

'Come with me. I have a spare bedroom, it's warm, and there's food in the fridge...'

'Nick–'

'No. You have to. I want you to. I'm not going to let you say anything else or talk your way out of it. I wouldn't have it any other way.' He sighed and his breath fanned out across my skin. 'Look, I don't know what it is about you, Anna Havisham, but you're special. And I am all in.'