Jack retaliated swinging his fist into Blake's chin with an uppercut, causing blood to drip from Blake's mouth. Blake's hold slackened, releasing Jack and he stumbled a moment before gaining his balance. Then Blake shoved Jack in the chest with both hands pushing him back into the table. His legs whacked into the table with a sickening crunch. Jack's face contorted in pain, but he didn't stay down for long, he was back up in seconds.

"You little shit," Jack grumbled as he jumped onto Blake. My heart leapt in my chest in fear as Jack wrapped a hand around Blake's head. But Blake easily kicked Jack on the stomach and he rolled over in agony, gasping for breath.

Blake was furious, his hands were shaking by his side as his whole body racked with tremors of anger and his eyes were narrowed into slits as he glared at Jack. But what I noticed most clearly was the glassy and unfocused look Blake had in his eyes and the way he stumbled to the right before he returned a punch to Jack, he was drunk.

I placed my hands over my mouth as I watched the scene before me with wide fear filled eyes. Other people started crowing around the commotion to see what was occurring. Some were chanting out encouragement to fuel the fight. I didn't know what to do.

"You coward, you are going to pay for what you did to her," Blake growled, his face wrathful as he grabbed Jack around the waist and slammed him to the floor. Blake straddled Jack and started to repeatedly punch him in the face. Blood was streaming down from Jack's nose and was bent at an odd angle.

"Stop them," Sarah screamed from behind the table, anxiety written clearly on her face. She was watching Jack with horror arching her brows. She was yelling for someone to stop Blake hurting her boyfriend. But she didn't need to yell as Jack was able to twist under Blake's grip and switched their positions. Blake's motions had become too slow and he couldn't retaliate from Jack's punch due to his lack of perceptions from the alcohol streaming through his veins. Jack now had the upper hand.

He grabbed Blake's hair and beat his head into the floor, a crunch echoed from his head. Blake's eyes glazed, and his features twisted from the impact. He took a moment to catch his breath but then he rolled out from under Jack and rose to his feet, as did Jack. They faced each other about to attack once again but I noticed Blake's features. His eyes were scrunched up in pain and he swayed on his feet. 

Just from seeing that look on Blake's face I knew I couldn't watch Blake being hurt a moment longer. I didn't care if I was hurt getting involved. I ran from the outskirts of the circle that had formed around the fight and grabbed Blake by the shoulders just as he had grabbed Jack by the scuff of his shirt.

"Stop," I yelled at Blake. His eyes flickered off Jack and settled on mine. His eyes were dilated, and jaw was clenched. I noticed the large lump already formed on his head.

"I am fine, stop," I encourage, looking deeply into his eyes and placed my hand onto his heart. It was pounding underneath my hand. His eyes slowly returned to their ocean blue colour and finally he released Jack. He fell to the floor.

"Get me out of here," Blake breathed and the pain in his voice was palpate causing my chest to break open. As much as I was angry and horrified by what he had done tonight there was a part of me that was tugging at me to help him.

I placed my hand into Blake's and tried to yank him away. It took a few tries but finally he grabbed ahold of my hand and he allowed me to tow him away.

Sarah fell to the floor beside Jack, placing her hands onto his face trying to wipe the blood off his face. I turned away as I pulled Blake through the thickening crowd. We rammed our way through the crowd until we exited the building near the back entrance. But just before I lead Blake out I heard Lisa call my name from behind me. I turned around to see her panicked expression as she ran to me.

"What happened?" Lisa asked with her eyebrows pinched together as she looked at Blake in worry. He did look terrible.

"Blake got into a fight for me, I am going to take him home. Do you want to come with us?" I asked. I didn't like to leave her here, but Blake was now leaning heavily on my arm and he needed my help.

"I might stay for a little while longer, but I have my car out the back to get home, so don't worry about me. Be careful hun." She smiled and hugged me, but I could see the concern in her eyes. I yanked Blake out the building and we emerged into the alleyway where Blake attacked that man. I noticed Blake's eyes skim towards the building where drops of blood had stained the wall. 

Blake squeezed his eyes shut tightly and his hands tightened on my shoulders. With no help from him I had to trudge him towards my car. He kept his eyes shut until I leant him against my car, so I could open his door. But I couldn't as he refused to take his hands off from around my shoulders when I nudged him with my hip.

"Blake you have to help me here," I say with a sigh. He opened his eyes and to reveal his irises blood shot. He nodded and placed himself into my car passenger seat then fell asleep against the door window.

I kept checking on him as I drove the twenty-minute distance home, each bump that rocked through the car from driving over the cobblestoned road did little to stir him from his slumber. When we arrived home, I shook him awake.

"Blake," I yell. He opened his eyes a sliver and then snap them closed again, like he didn't want to face the world. I sighed again, frustration settling in. He was not sleeping and vomiting in my car. I moved around to his side of the car opened his door. I grabbed him by both shoulders, yanking him out the car.

"Hey," Blake objected as he fell out the car but didn't resist.

"I drove you home, I am not carrying you inside mate." I crossed my hands across my chest. I couldn't help my annoyance at him from what I saw him doing earlier leaking out.

"Alright grumpy," he sassed back. His glassy eyes started rolling back into his head as he staggered to his feet. He was absolutely smashed, he must have skulled so much alcohol. He began staggering towards the house but then he swayed sideward away from the front door where he settled in a ball on the front lawn. 

I watched him struggle and something pulled at my heart, he looked so innocent like this, this was not the person who threw a man against a wall. I walked over to him and placed my hands around his shoulders, helping him up. He placed all his weight onto me and I struggled to keep him moving. But when we reached the front porch he threw himself to the ground.

"I don't feel too good," he slurred and started vomiting into the garden beyond.

"Great," I mumbled, deflating. "I can't wait to see the soup stew you had for dinner as the mulch for my garden. Will go really well with my purple petunias." But Blake wasn't listening to me as he heaved up his whole stomach. I had no sympathy for him, he did this to himself. But just as I had that thought I remembered how hard Jack hit his head on the floor in the fight. I don't know if his vomiting was from all the alcohol he skulled at the bar or if he was concussed. 

I knew vomiting was a sign of concussion and that was when panic streamed through my veins causing my eyes to go wide as saucers and that sympathy returned. What if his defending me caused a concussion and now he was experiencing this pain all because of me. With my heart squeezing I fell to my knees beside him and rubbed his back, in a soothing motion as he spewed his guts up.

 He rocked back onto his heels and collapsed on the floor by the door, resting his head on the wall. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose. My hands followed his motions making sure that he didn't fall onto the floor or hurt his head again. When he was stable he pressed his palms into his eyes forcefully. He didn't look good.

"Are you okay?" I asked tentatively, reaching a hand out towards him but didn't dare touch him.

"No." He croaked and his voice broke as he said it. It almost sounded like he was crying. My heart dropped in my chest and felt like it was trying to beat out towards him. As much as I hated the cold person he acted to be around me, I think I hated this broken version of him even more. It was like he had no hope to go on. Then I remembered another symptom of a concession, strange emotional reactions.

"Blake, I think you are concussed. I need to take you to the hospital," I reasoned as I crouched down beside him. HIs eyes widened as his gaze snapped up to mine, his body stiffened, and he clenched his shaky hands. He looked at me with such a fear in his expression that it shocked me, pulling at my heart strings.

"I am not going there," he objected firmly crossing his hands across his chest. My eyebrows pinched together as I tried to understand his strange reaction.

"You are concussed Blake; do you know what that means? It means you have a traumatic brain injury. You could die, you need to go to the hospital," I tried to reason with him, but he actually put his hands over his ears, so he couldn't hear me.

"No." Then he looked right at me, for the first time he actually looked right into my eyes. The lightness and blueness of his eyes shined right into mine. My breath caught in my throat, they were breathtaking.

"Please don't make me go there," he pleaded, he actually pleaded. His bottom lip jutted out and he stared at me with such an innocence I couldn't refuse him. He must not be thinking clearly at all, Blake did not plead. I hesitated, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't very well drag him to the hospital, I could call an ambulance. But it wasn't an emergency so that would be silly of me. 

His symptoms weren't that bad, if I just watched him most of the night I can make sure nothing happened to him. And if anything did then I can call the ambulance. And he did seem to be sobering up a bit since vomiting up all the alcohol in his stomach.

"Okay," I relented. Falling down onto the floor cross legged next to him. Blake released a large breath, his chest falling as he relaxed his head against the wall. After a few minutes of silence, with me watching him intently and him trying not to vomit he finally opened his eyes.

"Can you take me inside? My head is spinning too much to stand up," he asked hesitantly, like he thought I wasn't going to help him. There was no way he would asked me this if he wasn't intoxicated.

I smiled softly at him and grabbed him around the waist to help him up. I lead him into the dark house and toward my room, mum was already asleep. He was leaning heavily on me and was holding his stomach. I really hoped he didn't vomit on me.

 So, he and I both breathed out a sigh of relief when I pulled the divider open between our rooms and we reached his bed. He collapsed onto the sheets and rested his head on his upright pillows, closing his eyes. I went to my closet and grabbed a bucket, so he could vomit in there and not my carpet.

As I looked back up to him I noticed his features were scrunched up in pain. He was digging his finger nails into his wrists so deeply he was drawing blood. I frowned as moved closer towards him to see he was gnawing at his lip, ripping apart his lips. It was like he was trying to hurt himself, like the pain was keeping his mind of other things that caused him pain to think about.

"Stop that. You are hurting yourself," I say as I softly place my hand onto his wrist, pulling them away from his other wrist. His scrunched shut eyes softened and opened. He glanced down at my hand on his but doesn't object to my placing his hand away. He just lets them both hang at his side, like he didn't have the energy to move them back.

"Can you stay with me?" He asked suddenly. I did a double take and my motions freeze. He must see my bewildered expression because he explained further. I stare at him with wide eyes, my heart squeezing from his question.

"I don't want to be alone," he admitted with downcast eyes. He wrapped his hands around himself and his body tremors with a shiver.

I was about to say something sassy like well I couldn't given we practically slept in the same room but decided against it from the way his eyes so vulnerably stared into mine, so hopeful, but also filled with fear that I would reject him. This was not the Blake I knew, who had all his walls so high even he couldn't reach the top to bring them down.

"Of course," I comforted and placed his quilt over him. He closed his eyes then and I noticed the tight restriction on his chest deflate, like all the anxiety was leaving him. I watched him tilting my head to the side, perplexed. This was definitely not the Blake I knew, or maybe the one that showed himself to me. It was so unusual for Blake to need me, usually he would blow me off. After ten minutes his breathing slowed, and he relaxed into a light sleep.

My eyes eagerly took in his features, it was unusual for such a moment to occur where I could stare plainly into Blake face for more than a few seconds. His dark hair sat at odd angles around his face from his running his hands through it so many times and rugged from his current state. He had a strong jaw line and a visible bump in his nose where he must have broken it in a fight no doubt. As I watched him I noticed that he had a cut on the side of his forehead that was still dripping blood. I decided to grab some antiseptic to make sure he doesn't get an infection.

"Where are you going?" Blake croaked, I perceived the slight tinge of panic in his tone. I spun my heel just as I was opening the door to see Blake was sitting upright with his eyes wide open.

"To get some bandages," I explained. He nodded back at me but kept his eyes open watching me intently. I returned with our first aid box to find Blake in the exact same position. As I sat next to him on his bed his eyes followed my motions intently, I noticed that the glassy look in his eyes was dissipating, he was sobering up. I grabbed a cloth and soaked it with dettol, the antiseptic smell wharfing through my nose. I noticed Blake's nose wrinkle up in disgust. I reached forward to place the cloth onto his forehead, but I noticed him suck in a deep breath and his hand caught my wrist.

"What are you doing?" He asked a frown furrowing his brows.

"You are bleeding on your forehead," I explained pointing to his head.

"Oh, I didn't even realise." He released my hand allowing me to place it onto his head. He flinched back as the cloth met his skin and he hissed between his teeth. I didn't realise the wound was so deep, no wonder it was still bleeding. After I covered the cut with dettol I rummaged into the kit to find a band aid and gently peeling it onto his forehead. But as I worked all I could think about was the way Blake was staring right at me. He was watching every move I made, staring right into my face. He didn't have the kind of restraint or perception that someone not intoxicated would have. He watched me freely.

My skin buzzed from where I knew he was looking and soon I realised that my hands were shaking.

"Why are you doing this?" Blake suddenly questioned. I glanced towards him to find him already staring at me. My heart jumped in my throat at how he was looking at me. His blue eyes were like dark waves in the ocean, beautiful but filled with torrents of turmoil in a storm.

"Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." I quoted a bible verse. One that pretty much summed up our situation, given we were bed post neighbours. No matter what Blake does or has done I will care for him as each human being should do for each other. Blake's eyes fixed on mine and his jaw slackened in awe for a moment and then suddenly turned cold, snapping his head to the side.

"How are you so positive all the time? You are constantly bullied, your father left you and have no friends." His expression was hostile, defensive and there was a malice in his words that cut me deep. I grabbed my stomach as the pain ripped through me. I haven't told Blake what happened to my father, but he obviously guessed that he left us voluntarily.

"Why are you so negative all the time? You have a whole loving family, are the most popular boy in school and have more friends than you can count," I exploded harshly, my jaw clenching. Anger streaming through me at his words.

"Touche." Although I expected him to react in hostility he just clicked his tongue and tilted his head to the side in surrender. We morphed into silence then, but my hands were still balled into fists and I had to fight to decrease my breathing I was still so angry at his words. I continued on fixing up his wounds.

"Seriously, why are you helping me?" His words brought me out of my work. "I don't deserve your help. I have been nothing but horrible to you," he continued. I could see the pain in his eyes as he stared at me, he needed to know the answer to this. I placed the cloth back in the box before I answered.

"Because I believe that this person that you try to be around me is an act. You inside are not this mean evil guy. You real you, the one that isn't acting, or pretending is the man who protected me from my bullies. That is who you are Blake and that person is worth saving, is worth helping," I admitted maintaining eye contact. Blake snapped his gaze away from me and splayed his fingers over his eyes in frustration.

"No, you are just too innocent to see who I really am, you just see who you want to see," he barked back.

"I see the best in people, what is wrong about that?" I argued, my face flushing with anger.

"You neglect to see the darkness in people and that overrides any goodness inside them." He spoke with conviction and his expression was dejected. My heart dropped as I realised that he truly believed that. I straightened my back as I prepared to argue.

"That is where you are so wrong. Everyone has darkness and goodness inside them, it's about who you are in here," I reach my finger up to his forehead and swipe my finger along his head. "that matters." I smiled softly. Blake's gazed at me with a wistful expression. I continued on, he needed to hear this. "And it's about who you choose to be, God forgives everyone for their past sins if we ask for it. Then you choose a better path, on the one where you become the person you want to be."

He leaned back onto the bed rest and looked up to the ceiling closing his eyes, my words had caused a calmness to flow through him. He believed he was something dark, but he wasn't, I have seen the good in him. He just needs to see it himself.

"Why do you pretend to be someone you are not?" His eyes snapped back to mine turning cold, his wall was back up. I must have said something that hit a nerve because his jaw clenched, and he leaned forward as he spoke his next words.

"Rose, if you knew who I really was and what I have done. You wouldn't see me as just some delinquent kid that needs fixing. You would see me for what I really am, poison," he spat in disgust at himself, but I could hear the undertone of sadness. My stomach clenched from hearing such a dark admittance from him, that was how he saw himself.

"I don't believe that you are bad, I have seen that goodness inside you." His eyes narrowed further as I tried to defend him.