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Chapter one

"You're nothing to her," Que snarls with an evil glint in his eye, adjusting the gun in his grip.

Fear envelopes me where I stand, watching as he puts the love of my life in danger. My feet are seemingly glued to the ground I stand on, almost as though they're not listening to me as
I beg them to move, desperate to place myself in front of the gun.

"You're a liar," he accuses, "you never cared for her."

"Then hurt me! Please, leave her alone." I sob, helpless to do anything.

Billie stands across from the two of us, paler than normal and in obvious pain as her face twists in discomfort. Her hands are bound in rope, and a whimper escapes her lips, but I still can't will my body to move in her direction. My heartbroken pleas falling on deaf ears as I strain to reach her.

Bringing my attention back to Que, the sound of a gunshot echoes around the room, Billie is suddenly collapsed on the floor. She lays still and unmoving, surrounded by a growing pool of blood. A scream erupts through my clenched teeth as I stand helplessly, tears streaming down my face.

Movement out of the corner of my eye draws my attention back to Que, and my attempts to reach Billie come to a halt when I notice his horror stricken expression.

"Why- why did you do it?" He whispers hoarsely, and I follow his eyes down to my hands.

A gun.

A simple shotgun lies in my open palms, and I drop it with a surprised yelp, blood staining my fingertips. "No.. no no no!" I cry, "I wouldn't."

"How could you?!" He screams.

Que is suddenly standing before me, yelling words of blame, accusing me of wrecking his life, and of destroying Billie's.

"I'm sorry." I sob, stumbling backwards, trying to get away from him, but he matches my movements, "I didn't mean to- please, I'm sorry."

He gives me a final push causing me to trip, and I'm sent crashing to the ground, the impact sending a dull pain down my spine.

I jerk awake gasping for breath, a salty taste on my tongue evidence of my crying, and I press a hand to my mouth to stifle the nosies, but Billie isn't asleep beside me and swiftly pulls me into her embrace.

"Shh baby, it's okay. You're okay." Billie murmurs, running her fingers through my damp hair. I cling onto her oversized shirt, my nightmare still lingering in my thoughts. She wipes at my tears as I fight for composure, hating her seeing me like this.

I pull away and cup her face in my hands, taking her in as my heartbeat calms, finding reassure at the sight of her.

This had become routine by now, me being woken by a nightmare, and Billie having to calm me down. I haven't had a good night sleep since leaving the hospital, and what's worse is that neither has Billie.

Her tour had been put on hold since the incident, and wasn't set to resume for another month. For now, we remained in Billie's childhood home in LA, sharing her bed and living in the glow of her familiar red lights.

Despite being put behind bars, Que was still haunting my dreams at night, and was the reason I glanced over my shoulder during the day. Billie was obviously suffering as well, but chose instead to go through it alone, not opening up to anyone about what plagued her thoughts.

I knew my presence was a comfort, but beyond that I was and felt helpless.

It hurt seeing her shut down like this, but I could only hope that she would open up when she was ready. Even if it wasn't to me.

My cries slowly subsided with the aid of Billie's soothing whispers, and I tucked my face into the crock of her neck as she held me tightly. Her already being awake was a concern that tugged at the back of my mind, but the lull of sleep was impossible to ignore, my eyes and mouth glued shut with tiredness.

Exhaustion kept my thoughts from drifting to the worries that prevented me from falling asleep, but after such an awakening, I would have been grateful for a distraction.

Finally graduated and on summer break, I was now left to decide on how to further my education. What made things even more difficult, was that I was at a loss for what I wanted to do. But even besides the pressure of having to decide where I wanted my life to go so young, I also couldn't bare the thought of leaving Billie behind.

In the silence of our bedroom, my only reassurance that Billie was still awake was the steady brushing of her fingers tracing up and down my back as I lay on my head on her chest. Snugging further into her neck, I fought off the wave of tiredness that hit me, struggling to return my focus to Billie.

"Why were you awake?" I mumble, trying to push through the fog in my brain, and I feel Billie shake around me in a soft chuckle when my words come out sounding like mush.

"Sleep, Erin. We can talk in the morning." She responds, affectionately reaching up and brushing some hair behind my ear.

"I want to make sure you're okay." I press, my words barely as coherent as before. I hated that she was always the one to make sure I was okay. I need her to know I'm just as much here for her as she is for me, because I know that my inability to deal with what happened is hurting her. So I'm determined to get better, for her. No matter what.

"As long as you're next to me, I'm more than okay." She insists, and I smile sleepily at her words.

Soft ass.

She presses a kiss to my forehead, and I begin to drift further as a gentle hum sounds in my ears, eventually making me clueless to the world around me.