Fall Into Your Sunlight.

In the following week she had seen more of the boys than she had honestly thought she would. They had taken to crashing at her place over going home when they visited -- which, apparently considering their boredom, was daily. Nightly, technically. They became fixtures in her life that were rapidly turning permanent. Not that she minded. It felt nice, having friends, despite their habits.

It was a few weeks after they had met and for the first time when they woke that evening, Evangeline was nowhere to be found. She had disappeared without a trace. Nobody panicked as they knew she was transitory, but they knew something was off -- it didn't feel right. They decided to go in search of her, just to make sure she was alright. Evangeline never crossed them as incapable of defending herself, but she was so small. They could probably take her out if they moved as a whole.

They split off in different directions, figuring she was probably outside, going in search of the unexpected friend they had made. Garrett stayed at the house in case she came back, Kennedy went north, Jared south, Pat went east and John went west, over the hill in her back yard.

John found her near a small creek, by a garden filled with strawberries, watermelon and a certain something that looked barely legal. Eve herself had what looked like a cigarette between her lips and a bottle of alcohol next to her, unopened, the cigarette unlit. Coming closer, John realized it wasn't a cigarette at all, but a one-hitter, and she was, in fact, smoking the substance that was growing nearby.

"Evangeline?" He asked, curiously.

She looked up, eyes wet. "Hey John. Did you come looking for me?"

"Yeah, we all did. What are you doing out here?"

"Baking, what's it look like?" She responded, waving the faux cigarette.

"Why?"

She stopped, and leaned back on her arms, debating how to reply. "Trying to drown out bad memories." She said, finally. "She hates me." The last words were a whisper against the wind in the trees, but John heard, and he didn't quite understand.

"Who does? Eve, what's up? You know you can talk to me, right?"

"I know and that's what scares me. The judgment." She said. "There are a lot of things you don't know, John, and it's better that way." She turned away, and lit the faux cigarette, exhaling smoke a few moments later, as well as the words, "it was my fault. Oh, can you keep a secret?"

John stared at her a moment, stunned by her erratic behavior. Just what, exactly, was going on? "Unequivocally."

"I got my best friend killed." She said, her words slow and whispered against the breeze. She took another inhalation and sighed. "That's why. . . I won't see her grave. I can't see her grave. That's why she's haunting me. This won't chase away the nightmares though. Nothing ever does." She sighed and threw herself backwards onto the grass.

John wasn't blind. He noticed that she trembled when she spoke. Her past was haunting her. Just how much was too much weight to bear alone? Just how much was she dragging behind her?

"C'mon you, we're going home." He murmured. Holding out his hand he waited for her to take it. Judging by her expression, he would have thought he had just offered her a mongoose. Her nose wrinkled. Grinning, he leaned down and picked her up in his arms, carrying her.

"What are you doing?" She asked, voice slurring. She was gone. He hadn't seen anyone else quite as high as she was at that moment. John only laughed, the sound mellifluous.

"Carrying you home, you silly ginger." He laughed. Eve seemed to accept that and rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes closing. "Don't fall asleep."

"I won't. John?"

"Yeah."

"Don't tell anyone about her. Promise me."

"I promise."