"Is he okay?"

"Someone bring him a glass of water!"

"I have a bottle of whiskey in my bag; he can have some!"

Niall woke up to the chatter around him. He was lying on the big sofa by the entrance; Stephen, Annie and some other anxious faces hovered over him.

"What happened?" He felt weak.

"You fainted, mate. You were lucky you weren't holding any coffee in your hands!"

Stephen was standing next to him, handing him a glass of water.

"Drink this and go get some rest. I'll take care of the shop."

A customer offered to give him a lift. Still confused, Niall accepted. Once home, he practically fell into his bed; fully dressed, thoroughly exhausted.

He closed his eyes, and the girl reappeared, like she had never left.

She looked older. Not quite his age, but not a kid anymore. Tall, her shiny black hair swirling in the wind. She was standing on top of a hill, surrounded by fog. The same heavy, persistent fog he had seen earlier at the shop before collapsing.

She was holding her sword. The same he had seen many years ago, when he was a kid. The details on her weapon were quite unique. A large number of symbols were engraved on the blade, symbols he had never seen, but somehow made sense to him. Her hands were glowing, a halo of gold in this ocean of grey.

The fog was getting darker. Becoming menacing. He felt trapped, out of breath, unable to move or to take his eyes off the girl and her sword.

Niall didn't know what she was doing here, in his dreams. In his head again. It must have been a decade since his last episode, and he didn't want to fall into that long dark again.

"Enough. Wake up, man. WAKE UP."

His own voice echoed in the tiny room. He sat up, his heart pounding, his head aching.

He started sketching her on paper. It was the only way he could make the pain go away. She was slowly emerging under his pen. A black and white fighter, fear in her eyes, but determined to fight the dark around her. He pictured her cutting through the haze, the glow travelling between her hands and the sword. It all felt hopeless. The more she cut, the more the dark would cover. She was surrounded.

The phone rang, snatching Niall from his dark fever back to reality.

It was Stephen.

"Hey Niall. Just checking on you. How do you feel?"

"A little bit rough, but nothing a good night's sleep can't fix."

"Good. Take it easy. Common Grounds is closed for the next two days. We can afford it."

"Thanks Stephen. Merry Christmas"

"Merry Christmas, Niall. Let me know if you need anything."

Niall was grateful for him. He was the closest thing he had to a friend. Still, he didn't want to explain what happened today.

He glanced at the drawing. So, it was happening again. He sighed.

He didn't know how to deal with this. He could reach out to his last doctor, after all these years; maybe they could help. Looking through the window, the warm Christmas lights outside were too far away to bring any comfort.

He felt alone.

He felt like he was falling again. 

And this time, they would be no one to catch him.