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She swayed, feeling lightheaded, as she stepped out of the shower, and stood for a moment trying to blink away the blinding whiteness that covered her vision. It faded out as quickly as it came and she made her way over to the sink, dripping water over the tiled floor as she went.

The mirror in front of her was fogged from the steam from her shower, and she wiped a patch of it away with a single swipe of her hand. Her reflection was revealed to her, still slightly distorted from the moisture that clung to the mirror's surface, but clear enough to make out her bruises, her haunted eyes, the long brown hair that was currently plastered to her head in soaking wet clumps.

For a long time she stared into her own eyes, trying to work out who the hell she was these days. Strong or weak? Was it harder to stay here or harder to leave?

"Stuck between a rock and a hard place." she mumbled to herself as she grabbed a towel and began to dry off.

She reached for the pajamas she had bought, warm navy flannel ones, when one of the many potion bottles Martin had bought caught her eye. She had lined them all up without ever giving a thought to actually using any of them, but maybe she should. Maybe this is what normal women did, and somehow, she'd never been told. What the hell, when she saw Martin again he was going to kill her, so she might as well die...She picked up the bottle...covered in cocoa butter and pineapple lotion.

She went downstairs in her new pajamas, towel wrapped around her hair, feeling slightly sticky from the lotion. Her ankle felt better, far less stiff, though she guessed it might be a while before she'd be running any marathons.

Since she figured Martin would be missing in action till the morning, she decided she'd go mad and indulge herself even more. Grabbing an apple from the bowl that stood on one of the kitchen counters, she made her way into the living area, where she could spend the rest of the night just watching TV. The plan worked until about midnight, when she heard the key in the lock of the front door.

"Oh bugger it." she swore, putting the TV off and scooting out into the hall as fast as she could. Hopefully she could get up the stairs before he finally got the door open. She didn't feel like making yet more awkward small talk with Caitlynn, especially not in her pajamas. Unfortunately, she hadn't even made it half way up the stairs before Martin was standing in the hall below her, coughing to get her attention.

She stopped, trying to hide the fact she was cringing, and slowly turned to face him. She felt some small sense of relief when she saw that he was alone, but it soon evaporated when he pushed the door shut with a loud bang.

"Can I have a word with you please?"

His voice was taut and strained and she felt like a rock had suddenly appeared in her stomach as she descended the stairs again and followed him obediently down the hallway and into the living area.

He threw his jacket over the back of the couch, before sinking down on to it, bent forwards with his head in his hands.

"So, umm, did you have a nice night?" she thought she may as well try and break the tension somehow.

"No." he snapped, "No I did not."

"Sorry." her voice came out small and quiet, quickly swallowed up by the awkward atmosphere that filled the room.

"You tried to leave again."

She opened her mouth to protest, try and repeat her lie about going for a walk, but it wouldn't sound any more credible the second time around, so she didn't bother. She just sank down on to the sofa next to him.

"Yeah, I did."

"Am I that hard to live with?"

"No. No I was being stupid, I..." she trailed off, realising she was trying to be serious with the towel still wrapped around her head. She pulled it off, toying with it as she tried to explain what had happened earlier.

"I heard you talking to someone on the phone. I thought that...I thought it was about me somehow."

"I was talking to my kids."

"Oh." She felt doubly ridiculous then. "Sorry."

"You already said that. Why did you think it was about you?"

"I'm a closet egotist."

"I'm serious. You owe me that."

"I thought that maybe you'd hired someone to find out who I was, like a detective or something."

A smile actually cracked Martin's face then, and he gave a short bark of laughter.

"I know. It sounds stupid when I say it out loud. I thought you were trying to find out who I was so you could make me go back home."

"I want you to have a life. A proper, nice life where you don't go running around on the streets, sleeping out in the cold and tripping over anything bigger than a speck of dust. If that means a new life, instead of going back to your old one, then that's OK."

She sniffled a little, feeling tears fill her eyes. How could someone she barely knew seem to care that much about what happened to her?

"Well you're not meant to cry!" he mock-shouted, putting an arm around her and pulling her closer to him.

They sat quietly for a minute while she regained her composure, his head resting on top of hers.

"I feel better now." she announced, trying to straighten up, but he tugged her back against him.

"Stay for a minute. And tell me two things."

"Well, we'll see."

"Number one, what are you so frightened of?" he felt her tense up, but continued before she could interrupt him, "Number two, why do you smell of pina colada?"