Gray's POV

She's having one right now, I just know it.

I know she does not scream when she has it. I know she does not squirm when she sleeps. I know she does not give any signs that she has it. But I know that the nightmare is there. Haunting her. Every day. In her sleep.

Just like how it's haunting her today.

She does not want to tell anyone about it, I should know that. If she did, she would have told me in the first place. But she didn't. I had to figure that out by myself. But eventually I did, didn't I?

The only thing that gives her away the fact that she is having a nightmare is that she breathes faster than a normal person would when she sleeps. It speeds up, but only so slightly. I learnt that from the countless times I've watched her sleep back in her apartment, but I usually sneak out before she wakes up.

I watched her from through the barred metal door of the cell, waiting for my order from Desmond himself. Waiting to go in and give her one more dose of whatever it is he keeps on asking people to give her. I would be in there by now, but he had just spoken to me about not doing anything without him ordering me to.

I watch her as her breathing speeds up, but she looks so calm, that it could've fooled anyone else who is not me. I want to go in there, and wake her up from her nightmare, or whatever bad dream she is having. I just want to go in there and hug her tight, and tell her that everything is going to be alright.

But who am I going to kid?

It's so obvious that everything is not going to be alright. Well, not in her case anyway.

And I am sure that she knows it.

I hear some indistinct voices coming from around me, but I tune them out, not interested in hearing their conversation, not interested in eavesdropping. Right now, I only want two people in my world, in my imaginary world, where everything is perfect. And it only consists of two people: Willow and me.

The voices around me grow louder, but I ignored them yet again. I do not care if anyone is calling me or not. They're not important, not now anyway.

Desmond gave Willow her first dose in the truck when we arrived here – which was not very strong – and the second – which was so much stronger – was given by Geraldine. She slept for two whole days on that one without waking up. I'm supposed to give her her final shot before she can officially wake up.

But I really pity her. She's supposed to be up and running by now, and at least ate or drank something. But no. Instead, she has been sleeping, and having terrible nightmares, I'm very sure.

I think having two days' worth of nightmares is more than enough, even for a person who regularly have nightmares. I hope this dose is not too much... I don't want her to have any more terrible nightmares.

I felt a sharp, shooting pain on my right cheek.

"Gray, it's time," Desmond's low and husky voice reached my ears.

I nodded my head in acknowledgement. "Okay," I told him in a low whisper, trying my best to keep my face emotionless, doing a better job of it than I had expected to.

He nodded towards the two guards at the entrance of the cell. They opened the door for me, the rusted metal sounding terrible as it was wheeled open, and I entered the room.

I heard the door slam shut from behind me. I looked at her bed, and noticed that she had winced at the sound of the door slamming shut, and that's how I realised that she was already up from her sleep.

I glanced around the room. It's so dull, and so dark. If anyone resides in this room for more than several months, they'd have lost all their will to even continue living. This cell seems to have the 'power' to kill people's will to live. Unless that particular person has very strong willpower.

I adverted my attention back to the girl. The effects from the previous dose of knock out drugs seemed to have already worn off. But I'm pretty sure that it's not completely out of her system yet. She looks calm on the outside, but I know that on the inside, she's not.

And she must really hate me.

"Hey," I said, trying to start a conversation with her to break the awkward silence and tension in the room, which is something I know that Desmond will not approve of.

At all.

Her eyes fell on my face, and her cute face hardened. But she didn't make any effort to say anything.

I sat at the edge of the bed, and put my hand gently above hers. But she pulled it away as roughly as can be.

"Willow..." I whispered gently, trying to be patient with her.

I could see tears sparkling in her eyes. She looked like she was about to cry, but she cleverly held it back. And kept silence. Which she knows is killing me. Silence is a lot worse than having her say something extremely mean to me.

"Willow, please say something."

She tried to look away, but I held her face gently and turned it, so that we made eye contact.

"Willow..."

I searched her face for any sign of emotion, but no luck. She has just became too good in hiding her emotions these few years.

"Wil—"

"Just shut up will you?" she snapped quietly at me, so that no one except the two of us could hear it.

"I missed you..." I breathed, honest to both myself and to her, finally daring to admit it out loud.

"Then why didn't you come looking for me?" she asked, tears threatening to spill out of her eyes.

"Because—"

"I needed you Gray, but when I needed you most, you weren't there... You aren't here..."

"I—"

"Where were you?"

"Wi—"

"I needed you then. I need you here, right now, but you are somewhere else, and you are not here with me. You're off somewhere else playing someone else's knight in shining armour, aren't you?"

"I—"

"So, I don't get it at all. Why say you miss me now? When you aren't even here when I need you the most?"

I just realised that every time Willow is upset or disappointed or angry – or even all three – she doesn't give me a chance to explain the reason. She always cuts me off. Maybe she has her own reasons to do so.

I know she really, really wants to cry right now, but she is willing herself not too. She doesn't want to make herself look weak and vulnerable in front of me. And now, she's ranting on and on about I don't know what. She shouldn't hold back her tears. Sometimes, it's good for a girl to cry openly. The strongest people are people who are not afraid to cry.

"But—But then, why—"

This time, I don't let her finish what she wants to say.

I grab her cheeks, and pulled her towards me, our lips crashing for the first time in ages. I pressed my lips gently against hers. I can feel the passion behind the kiss, and it just reminds me of the time when we first started going out.

She can't deny that she doesn't miss me. I can feel it behind the kiss. I am not a hundred per cent sure if she really wants this or not, but I'm sure I do. But for her sake, the kiss doesn't last long. I pulled away a few seconds after.

"Shh..." I cooed her.

And just like that, she started crying.

I pulled her close, and let her cry into my chest, wetting my shirt, but it doesn't matter. Not to me, not now. The aftereffects of the kiss is still coursing rapidly through my veins. We rarely ever kiss since about half a year ago, and I miss it. We rarely ever kiss since I found out about the 'ultimate plan' to use me to kill her.

She continued crying, her face buried into my shirt, muffling her sobs, and I let her, trying to comfort her like before. I started stroking her head, running my fingers through her tangled her, doing my best to untangle all the knots without it hurting her.

"Shh..." I cooed.

When she finally stopped, she pulled away gently from me.

"Shh..." I cooed once more, and placed a finger gently to her lips.

She continued sobbing violently, but no tears came out.

With my one free hand, I pulled out the syringe filled with the drugs. She didn't see it. I gently pricked the needle into her hand, and pushed the liquid into her system as gently as I could manage. I don't think she felt it though, because even if she did, she didn't make any sign that she did. I laid her down on the bunk, and stayed with her until the drugs kicked in.

Or, at least, I tried.

"Gray..." she whispered weakly.

"Willow, I just want you to know, that no matter what, I'll always love you."

She shook her head slightly, and pushed me very softly away from her. "Just leave, please."

But I didn't anyway.

I waited until the drugs kicked in, until they did what they were supposed to do to her, stroking her hair, and slowly lulling her to sleep. Once she had finally fallen into a deep slumber, I got up, planted a kiss on her forehead, and left the cell.

"Gray," Desmond's possessive and commanding voice reached my ears.

I wanted to just ignore him, but I knew I couldn't. I turned to face him, keeping my face as emotionless as possible. I knew that I was going to get in deep trouble for my little act in that cell of hers.

"To my office, now. No buts or explanations."

And I have a huge hunch that I think I know where this will lead to.

"The answer is simple my dear: I work here."

I blinked rapidly at him; unable to digest the information that he just spilled.

"What?" I exclaimed.

Oh no... Not another one. Oh Willow. Real smart. You really, really got yourself tangled up in this huge mess which you can't even get yourself out from.

"Oh, yup..." Thomas replied nonchalantly, shrugging at the same time.

I have an all-important question to ask. How many more people work here? Because from what I can gather, almost everyone I know seems to be working here.

"We're Desmond's assistants. Second in command, I guess you could say that..."

Oh gosh...

"Please just shut up..." I begged them.

"Why should we?" Aaron asked, as if that was the most ridiculous 'question' in the world. "We did come in here for a reason you know. You'd think that our dear Willow would have figured that out by now."

Pleas shut up. Please shut up. Please shut up. Please shut up. Please shut up. And you, Willow, don't say anything. But 'true to myself', I said something anyway."

"So what do you two want?"

"Oh, nothing much..." Thomas answered my question, as if trying to keep me in suspense.

"Just wanted to tell you something important," Aaron continued.

This can't be good at all. Things like these are never good. No wonder they say that we should never trust strangers.

This is definitely not good.

Not now.

Not ever.

"My dear Willow," Aaron started. "Have you ever heard of the phrase 'Yesterday was history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That's why it is called a present'?"

The pair remained quiet, as if silently challenging me to say something or to respond.

"I would prefer not to know anything," I croaked.

"Oh fine. Suit yourself," Thomas replied, in a matter-of-factly tone of voice.

Thomas walked away, and exited the cell, leaving Aaron behind. He walked towards me, so close, until I could literally feel his hot breath against my face. I shuddered. I do not like this feeling. No one can get this close to me...

Except Gray...

I pushed the thought away from my mind. I mustn't think of Gray if I am to get over him.

"Enjoy the remaining time you have in this world," Aaron whispered into my ear, very eerily, making me remember that he was in the same room as me.

He chuckled, and walked away, out of this room, leaving me in bewilderment of what had just happened.

Of what he had just said.