Of course he couldn't sleep. It didn't matter that he wasn't in his own bed, because the couch wasn't the problem. What happened months ago still haunted his dreams. Not even his dreams, sometimes when he closed his eyes he could picture it perfectly. He continued to look at the ceiling, trying to push every thought from his mind. He used to be good at this, pushing memories and people and ideas away so he wouldn't over think. But that skill had began to fade away leaving him to this point of not being able to sleep.

"Couldn't sleep?" He asked the person coming down the stairs

"No," the person whispered, her American accent filled the room. "What's with you?"

"Can't sleep either." He told her looking up at the ceiling again.

"If it's because I took your bed, you can have it back. I can take the couch." She explained to him

"It's not. It's nothing. Don't worry about it. You came down for something?"

"Yeah, I was going to get some water. I thought it might help calm my nerves." He stood up, removing a blanket from the couch and draping it over her shoulders.

"Come on, I'll make some tea."

"From where I'm from, we can't really drink hot tea," Rory started, clasping the cup of hot tea in between her hands, "So we drink ice tea. My whole family does. So it's kinda just something I do now. Whenever I feel down, I drink ice tea. Somehow it helps."

It was a weird thing. His family didn't care about anything much. They didn't care when his sister died, or when he was sent to the mental ward after trying to kill himself. They, his parents really, didn't care at all. So that's what made him so close to his grandmother. She was there, she cared, and she showed it. She always made him tea, always. If something good happened, tea. If something bad happened, tea. When his parents forgot his birthday, tea. When his sister died, tea. When she died a few years later he turned to tea. And now it's something he just does, have tea when everything falls apart. He knew where she was coming from.

"Why can't you sleep?" He asked.

"Why can't you?" She countered and he looked into his cup watching the water darken. "How about this, we say it together on three."

"Fine." They mentally counted down, before letting the other know the answer.

"You almost died." They said at the same time. Silence filled the room as they stared at each other.

"You almost died." He said again, "And I couldn't do anything. I promised to protect you and I almost let you die."

"It wasn't your fault." She interjected placed her hand over his.

"But that's all I can think about. That's why I can't sleep. Because once I close my eyes, it happens. You die. He just doesn't cut you once. Jo never came. He keeps at it and I can do nothing. I know I failed you." Her fingers where now closed around his palm.

"You almost died too." She reminded him. "Sometimes...sometimes I can't get to you fast enough. Others, the shot just contains more drugs. At one point he lied and never gave us the medicine. Then I know I failed you. Despite what you told me to do, I had to save you. I just... I just couldn't let you die."

There was more silence. They stared at each other. He stood up, not able to sit down any longer. He began to pace.

"I hate him. I hate what he did to those people. What he did to the other shades, people who were like him, like us! Who understood him! To understand what he went trough."

"Stephen-" She tried. He brought his hands to his hair, ruffling it in anger.

"I hate what he did to Boo. Just flinging her into a street! And then what he did to you! You gave him what he asked for and he still tires to kill you." He stopped and looked at her.

"Listen-" But he continued on.

"He was a sick bastard." He rarely cussed, only when he was extremely frustrated. It was one of those times, "I wish, I wish there was some other way-"

She hugged him. It wasn't the first time they hugged, not that hugging people was a big thing or anything, but it sure shut him up. He wrapped his arms around her, not wanting to let go. Not wanting to loose someone else in his life.

"I'm so glad you're alive." He whispered.

"I'm glad you're alive too."

A/N: This is like my first fanfiction I've published in over a year! Out of everything I've recently written I like this the most. I really hope you like it! I hope I didn't like completely ruin Stephen! If I did it I'm sorry and I didn't mean too. D: