She was crying incoherently. Pummeling his chest as she screamed hysterically. He just stood there taking the abuse, his arms by his sides, looking over her shoulder. Eventually she calmed down, her hands clawing at the wool, twisting and pulling it out of shape as she buried her face in the soft wooly question marks.
He knew what he had to do. He felt ashamed: he knew that part of him, buried deep down,wanted to do it, longed to do it. But another part was terrified that if he did it, if he let him self go down that road, he would never stop. It would change him, twist him.
He took a deep breath and made his decision.
He reached out with trembling arms.
And very slowly he hugged Ace close to him, rocked her gently and told her that it would be all right.