Can't Find My Way Home

"Are you sure you're feeling ok? Because if you're not I'm coming back right now." I said as I layed on the roof, staring up at the lights of the buildings that were taller then the one we were in, which was slightly worrying, as ours was high. He assured me he was perfectly fine watching the Die Hard movies and drinking tea in his boxers. "I wish I were there in boxers watching it with you. Seeing John McLane kill some bastards would seriously make my day right now."

"We can watch it when you get back." he said, I knew by the tone in his voice that he was smiling. I was, even after everything that had happened between us, lucky to have him.

"I'd like that, but really, if you're at all tired or feel even a little bit shit, just go to sleep, promise me?"

"Sweetheart, I promise. Now, go make nice with your friends, and have fun.. I love you." I smiled.

"I love you too."

"Don't smoke too much!" he added quickly.

"Yeah yeah.." I laughed as I hung up, and pulled a ciggarette and a lighter from my bag. I loved watching smoke exhalation at night, it looked so pretty the way it twisted and curled against the black sky. I reached down for my glass, but it was empty and had been since I left the room. I sighed and chewed on my lip as I thought about all sorts of things.

"Why are you up here by yourself?" Frank's voice spoke from the roof door, I didn't lift my head to look ahead to see him, I just responded flatly.

"I don't adhere to being made to feel two inches tall by people, at least buildings don't badly threaten you." I took a long draw of nicotine godliness. I heard him pacing closer, I glanced up quickly and saw him standing three feet from my body.

"There's like ciggarette ash, bird shit and dust everywhere, you're going to spoil your dress lying all over it." he said, trying to make conversation, why he was bothering I didn't know. How he had manage to shake off Celery perplexed me even more.

"It's just a dress, it doesn't know what it's lying in." he giggled slightly. It had been so long since I had heard that, I smiled. I heard him patting down his pockets, followed by him muttering. I picked my lighter up and whistled to get his attention, before tossing it to him.

"Thanks.." he said putting it back in my hand, his fingers lingering on mine for a second. "Do you mind if I.." he pointed to the spot next to me, I shrugged nochelently. "Dill, Gerard told me about T-"

"Don't." I said pulling my ciggarette from my lips, "There's no need to," I exhaled quickly, then drew in a large breath of oxygen. "Tom's fine."

"I was more worried about you to be honest." he said flicking the cylinder of ash at the ground. "I don't want to sound like an ass-" I laughed, "But," he said forcefully, "you've seriously gone off the rails lately."

"And you draw this information from where? Me deservedly punching your shag bag in the face? Me being so drunk I pass out mid argument and split my own head open?"

"Well yeah, this isn't the Dylan I know."

"Alright then, who is the Dylan you know?" I said defensively as I stubbed my ciggarette out on the ground and instinctively lit another one.

"She doesn't bottle shit up like you're doing." I turned, for the first time sice he arrived, to look at him. His eyes were honest.

"I have to bottle shit up now. Things change, people change." I shugged, honesly believing what I was saying.

"Why? Why can't you just be the Dill from the first few days of the tour? Or better yet, the Dill from before all this shit happened?"

"I can't be the same, I have Tom to think about now, and even inspite of everything he's done, I love him and I'm not going to abandon him." I turned my head back, if I carried on looking at him I would cry.

"Then just be the same Dill to me, tell me what you're thinking and how you're feeling, you don't have to bottle stuff up when you're with me and you know that."

"I do." I felt the tears beginning to well in my eyes like salty rock pools, "I'm not a hypocrite Frank, and it's too late if I even wanted to anyway."

"What do yo-"

"Frank!" Brian's voice shouts, "I don't know where the fuck he's go to," he mumbled to himself, "Frank!"

"Yeah.." he said, his voice cracking slightly. He stood to his feet, leaving me laying on the dirty ground by myself.

"Sel wants you, downstairs, now. It's important." he said demandingly. I imagined that that was the exact way Celery had given Brian the messege. He brushed his clothes down, then turned to me.

"Come back inside, it's too cold to be out here in a dress."

"I'm fine." I snapped hastily, the child in me had sudden become awash with jealousy.