It was unfathomably hectic. Hospitals, police, paperwork. Niall would secretly admit to himself that despite how stressful it was, he was somehow thankful for it. Being left alone to deal with this aftermath, with nothing but his thoughts to thicken and swirl, would be the last thing he wanted to do.

Niall couldn't help but feel like he'd taken all his life with a normal leg for granted. He hadn't lost it thankfully, but it was stiff and uncomfortable, and even though three weeks had passed since the lake house, it didn't seem to be getting better. Or at least he didn't notice if it was. He only ever seemed to notice how terrible it was. The sudden spike of pain when he absent-mindedly put too much weight on it that caused him to hiss when he stood up too quickly, or waddle his way up stairs.

Jess, Will, and Niall did their best throughout the days that passed to cling on to the positives. They were confident that Emma was going to be put away for a long time. Despite the honestly; disgusting amount of money her family has.

Her betrayal struck deeper than any of them dared to talk about. It called craven, echoing down forgone halls and rattling the bones of their chest. It begged for attention, just a look, a peek. But neither had the courage just yet.

It was the loneliness that broke her. The skin deep, the false, masquerading as fettering lights and riches. Errant lovers with begging kisses. Smiling and fawning peers, there to grant her every wish. All of it nothing when compared to the long gone family of her school years. The one thing she wanted most, she couldn't have. So she learned. She would become strong enough to take, to trap, to fight.

She had tried diplomacy, or what she thought was diplomacy. But what she asked for fell on deaf ears. The first cut was the hardest, although not as hard as she thought it would be. She hesitated, quivering, inexperienced, fingers clutching the knife with a sweaty palm. He looked so beautiful, coddled in enamoured stupor as the blush of sleep kept him ignorant to the danger at his throat. So beautiful in fact that Emma almost stopped what she was doing right then and there. Jacob knew of love, knew of sex, knew of life. He could be hers, all she need do is ask. But he was not what she wanted, and with a grit of determination, the first centimetre slipped into inches, glided into a reddened grin, and in his serene enchantment he did not wake again. Didn't even sputter as it pooled in rubied streams into the sheets.

If she could take that, then what couldn't she take?

Shockingly, Jennifer had survived. Just barely. Sort of. She was in a coma, and it was unsure whether she'd pull through or if she did: if her voice would still be there. Her hospital room was plane and drab, with muted colours of pale whites and weak greens. Bounties of flowers did a fair bit to brighten the place up however, and Niall made sure to get a new bouquet every visit. Which hadn't been many, but he felt he would be forgiven considering it's a pain to walk without looking like he had a permanent wedgie.

Neither Jess, Will, or Niall had left each others side. Despite a bullet wound, Jess refused to stop working and immediately returned to it the moment she found pain killers strong enough to stifle the agony to just less so. But she would always return to Nialls apartment every evening, eager to scoff whatever food Will had prepared. Niall was still jobless, but was thankful that he didn't have so much pressure to search for one currently. And Will had happily taken the sick leave his job offered. Turns out surviving a murderous heiress nets you some time off. He didn't mind. Not even the impending work load that inevitably awaited his return was enough to strangle his mood.

For Will was unusually chipper considering the circumstance. Always. Niall was no psychologist, but couldn't help but wonder if his attitude was a cover, a mask to protect himself and others from facing the experience. Will had come away with next to no damage, had watched all of his friends get maimed and murdered, all for the sole reason that someone wanted him. Wanted him almost like he had wanted Niall.

Will would cook, clean, and fix. Nialls apartment never looked so pristine, he'd even fixed the squeaky cupboard door that Niall used to hold his mugs. That thing had been squeaking since he first moved in. Then there was Niall. The two hadn't spoke of the moment they had shared, the kisses that had been exchanged. It seemed almost forbidden to speak of something so good that had happened out of something so horrible.

They had entered an, easy for now, understanding of, somehow still distant: closeness. Brushed shoulders, and touches that lingered never quite long enough, as they met in the kitchen. Suggestive breaths on the back of necks that prickled with goosebumps. Occasionally they'd catch each others eyes, so distant, so wanting, and so warm. Will had gotten brave enough to plant the odd kiss on a cheek in passing, which would leave Niall an inconsolable pile of smiles and blushes. But it would go no further. They didn't know what to do. The answer seemed obvious, so plain, yet neither of them knew how to go about it. To cross that divide. They only knew that they wanted to do it.

Nialls small bed was inhabited by the three of them each night. A tangled mess of stiff and sore limbs holding on to each other as if the night would spirit them away to the unbearable alone. It's comfort and it's warmth, was a focal point of solace. For them, it was all they needed.

A/N: phew! Sorry it took me so long to update, not that many people are reading it anyway. So i guess I should say, sorry it is such a filler chapter instead of apologising for taking so long.
Regardless, Thanks for reading ^-^