It's Always a Fight Against Time

****This following chapter is all a “flashback.” Everything happened in the past before any of the guys left for LA.****

-Blaire's Pov-

I hadn't slept well at all that night. The nightmares kept coming back, every single time I would be killed and be watching from a distance at everything happening around me. Isn't there a saying that you always wake up just before you die, that you never die in a dream? Well if that really is true, that is not the case with me at all. It scared the shit out of me, though. Dying by being set on fire, or shot at until I looked like Swiss cheese... The list goes on and on with scenarios. What do they all mean?

I was all sweaty; tossing and turning non-stop and the worst part is that my whole body felt weird...Like sick, but not quite...it’s just strange. Almost like something bad was about to happen.

I only dodded off when I heard the faint moan of the door to the room opening. It was still dark outside, so it was early morning and I wanted to know who it was but then I would most likely be bombarded with idiotic questions like why I wasn't sleeping.

The person came to my side and knelt down, running rough fingers over my forehead and down my cheek. Try pretending to sleep in this situation! The person, who I'm sure, is Lucas now, bent down and kissed my temple before coming down to my ear. He made me flinch, involuntarily of course but it was a dead giveaway.

“I know you’re awake.” Was whispered with a bit of a chuckle. I could hear the smile in his voice. Dammit! I opened my eyes lazy and looked over into his own, he looked sad. “You look exhausted.” He continued whispering, so as to not wake the sleeping log beside me, Ale.

“Gee thanks.” I said sarcastically as I tried to set up back against the headboard. I sighed, “I feel it too.” I looked around the dark room a moment as Lucas sat up on the bed like me and wrapped an arm around my lower back lightly. After a long moment of silence, I finally asked a question, breaking the silence “What are you planning?” My gaze shifted towards his face and he looked away from me, guiltily.

He let go of me and stood up, “I'm leaving.”

My heart dropped, he's leaving me...of course he is. Why the hell did I ever expect him to actually stick around? Feeling a sudden wave of nausea I pushed him out of the way and bolted up from the bed. I ignored the stabbing pains as I stumbled quickly into the bathroom, which by the way someone else was using at that particular moment but oh well.

I didn't care to even bother seeing who it was but instantly the water shut off and soon after Matt was holding my hair back out of my face as I puked my brains out. Yes, he did put clothes on, don't think like that! After a few minutes I wiped my mouth with one of the washcloths Matt had given me and slouched in a very uncomfortable position against the wall and heat-regester. The heat pouring out burnt through my thin shirt but I didn't care.

Humidity fogged up the small room making it harder to breathe, and making me feel even hotter than I had before. I was burning but didn’t care at all. Matt bent down next to me and pushed the sweaty hair off my sticky face and to the sides, tucking the loose strands behind my ears. I looked up at him, like a zombie, tears threatening to pour out in my eyes, taking in his concerned face.

“Are you okay?” He whispered. I just starred at all the tattoos I could see that littered his body. I noticed newer ones I haven't seen before but I tore my eyes away to look back up.

“I can’t do this.” I held in a choked sob as I motioned profusely at my body. He grabbed onto me tightly and held me, crying until I had to throw up all over again. I hated this; everything was suddenly going to shit.

Where was Lucas? Huh!? He should be here! Granted yes, it’s gross and I technically don't know if the kid is actually his or not but still, he could be here you know...regardless. I guess that's just the way things go. Things are never perfect; this isn't some make-believe fairytale...Its real life. A life filled with assholes and pain. You can’t ever win.

“Yes you can, you’re strong babe. I know you don't feel good but it won’t last forever...” He mumbled. I drowned his voice out after that as I sat numbly, unmoving in his embrace. If I move, I feel like I’ll throw up...so easily solution. Don't move again.

Later on that morning after completely and entirely puking everything I had left in my body; Matt picked me up and laid me back down on the bed in Ale's arms. I knew my face was all red and blotchy from crying. Yet Ale was the only one who could really make everything all better (to an extent at least.) I lay close to his body, in the crook of his neck as he lay on his back, a single arm around wrapped around my back and waist. I still didn't sleep but I felt content at the time in my own little world.

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-Matt's POV-

I watched from the doorway as Ale got up and left her there alone on the bed. She didn't move however she was awake. She hasn't slept in a really long time and that was enough to worry anyone. She just looked pale, exhausted and… unhealthy to be honest. It hurt me inside to see her messed up like this. I knew the baby had something to do with it too. I've never actually been around a pregnant woman before but on TV they always are depicted in such a... Happy? Light. Do you know where I'm going with that? They always seem like motherhood is this amazing thing, they always are so happy and you see them at their best despite actually having a huge stomach. Blaire, she wasn't that at all.

And I was planning on getting the asshole back for what he did to her. I don't know how yet or what I’ll do but he isn't getting away that easily that's for damn sure.

Lucas was in there with her now, that's one of the reasons Ale left when he did. I know Lucas loves her. I see the way he acts and the way she looks at him and vice versa. Why do I feel guilty about all of this? It’s not really even a jealousy thing anymore… it’s just guilt.

If she never had met me things would be different. How- who knows? Would they be better or worse- also not sure.... But I do know something;

I wouldn't have been so stupid by falling in love with a 16 year old from the very start; that much is definitely for sure.

I ah...I just... I don't really know what I feel.

I brought my hand up and rubbed it over my head and face in annoyance at myself. I dropped it back to my side as I watched Lucas whisper something to her. I couldn't hear what he had said but I watched his movements.

He smiled before slowly and gently laying a hand down on her still flat stomach; he stared down at her stomach for moment, and then looked back up to her face. She had her eyes opened and he kissed her...
That hurt.

I felt my heart burn and couldn’t take watching any longer, I left directly after that.

But I didn’t get too far down the hallway before I heard a hard snap of something hitting or slapping flesh; otherwise known as Blaire 10 times out of 10, slapping him across his face. I cracked a smile… What a very abusive at times (Blaire) and fucked up (Lucas) couple of kids they are. They’ll learn sooner or later. Shaking my head I drowned out the mutters and yelling; something about ‘being an asshole’ and ‘dickhead.’ There was more but I didn't wait around to hear any of it.

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-Blaire's pov-
I slapped him as hard as my arm would let me. I think it hurt me worse actually because my hand was throbbing but oh well.

“You know you are a real fucking asshole Lucas.” I snapped, angry. Before that he whispered a final and last goodbye before he was going to leave me forever. Then he had the audacity to whisper to the “baby” and for it “be good for me?!” What kind of fucking shit is that!?

“Why?” he didn't yell or scream, he just talked normally. I could see the red hand print on the side of his face quickly forming and for a rather brief moment I felt horrible.

“Why? WHY?! Because...you're just going to leave me here to rot in hell while you go do whatever the hell you want to do!-” I was yelling now, furious with him.

The way he said it... 'Bye, babe. I'll always love you no matter what but I have to go...' and then 'Be good for your mommy baby.' was the last straw. He was leaving... And that sentence made it sound just like that; he was leaving me here and going on his merry way. He couldn’t give 2 shits about me or the “baby.” He’s going to make me do this all myself…. And I just can’t.

“I'm not going alone.” He snapped back at me, cutting me off from finishing my rant. I looked at him shocked. Wait, what? “The guys are coming too. I didn't say I was leaving forever! Dammit Valencia, I never fucking said I was leaving for good and that-” He was all but screaming now and towering over me as he stood off to the side of the bed.

“LEAVE!” I screamed right back, just as loud if not louder.

“Don't fucking tell me-” He growled

“Get out! Get OUT!” I screamed again reaching for something to throw at him, anything that was in reach. Of course being on the bed didn't give me many options.

I got up gingerly and reached for the large stack of hard covered books underneath the bed, throwing a few randomly at him.

Of course he dodged them… and I broke things... Great! Just fucking great.

“Leave I don't care!” I screamed throwing more books and not caring about the breaking and other falling objects. He bravely came up to me and grabbed my wrists making me stop. But I didn't; I just kept screaming and trying to get out of his grasp. “Leave, just go and fucking never come back!” I saw the brief look of hurt and pain flash in his eyes, before he covered it up just as quick as it came. I couldn't believe it even came forth out of my mouth because it all was the last thing I ever wanted, I hadn’t even thought about saying something close to that. Him leaving would have left me all alone. I didn’t want that, I don’t want that.

“FINE!” He screamed back in my face.
Just I as was pulling backwards in his grip trying to get him to let him go of me, he pushed me away from him. He turned around and began stalking out of the room as I went tumbling to the floor. I hit my head off the sharp edge of the desk besides the bed and landed in a heap on the ground, pain coursing through my entire body as the door was slammed, keeping me inside.

Alone.

I didn't cry. I wouldn't let myself do such a thing, plus I was probably already dehydrated and had absolutely no tears left to cry. I couldn't talk because my throat felt all sealed shut and only whispers came out when I was screaming for help inside my mind. My back was killing me; every move I made sent a sharp pain up my spine, it hurt so badly.

He was gone.

And I was all alone...

Again.