As Barba completed his morning routine he reinforced the plan formulated in his mind overnight. He brushed his teeth and shaved as he pondered the best way to hide the bags under his eyes, tell-tale signs that he lacked sleep. Pausing briefly, he gazed at his reflection in the mirror. I look like shit. His eyes were red and watery, his dark hair accentuated the pallor of his skin and, the bruises on his face were turning an ugly shade of purple. He groaned and splashed cold water on his face and rechecked his appearance. Gently, he massaged his face in an attempt bring some color and to rid himself of his sickly looking appearance. Staring at the mirror, it was obvious that his attempts were futile.

He headed to the kitchen to find that Munch had already prepared breakfast for him.

"Benson is on her way over to stay with you for a bit," Munch told him, as Barba finished his eggs and toast.

"Oh? Ok..."

"I just have some chores to get done. I want to take my laundry home and get a change of clothes. Is that alright?"

Conflicting thoughts raced through Barba's mind. The idea of being alone terrified him, yet, this was his chance to alleviate his guilt and let Munch off the hook. "Can you call her and tell her not to come?"

"What? If you want, I can get Benson to pick up what I need and I'll stay," said Munch.

Barba stood up and rinsed his dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. "John, can I stay alone? I just hate the fuss over me."

"What?" Munch asked again, surprised. "Are you sure? It's no problem, really."

"Yeah, I'll be ok."

"Are you sure you're ready?"

"I'm sure. I think that I need to at least try."

"Ok, well, I'll call Benson. You make sure you call me if there's anything you need alright? I'll be gone a few hours, you sure you'll be ok?"

"John, I'm good. Don't worry about me."

Barba sighed and leaned against the door after locking it behind Munch. Part of him wanted to open the door, run after Munch and, beg him not to leave. With shaking hands he forced himself to sip on a coffee and read the paper. He became furious with himself as tears dripped from his eyes, down his cheeks and onto the newspaper. Tears dropped heavily onto the paper, making a soft "plop" as they hit the thick newsprint, he watched with fascination as the tiny wet circles distorted the print as they were absorbed into the paper. He wiped his eyes and went to go watch some TV.

A few hours went by before Munch returned, arriving with some take out Chinese for dinner. "Hi, how did it go?" he asked, as he set the containers of food on the table.

"Good," Barba said, setting the table. "Really good. I think I'm ready to be alone again. I'll be able to manage."

"Great. I don't want to be telling you what to do, but, maybe to be safe, you shouldn't go out anywhere alone just yet," Munch said, referencing the fact that Barba's attacker still had not been apprehended.

Barba nodded in agreement. "Makes sense," he said, helping himself to some BBQ duck.

"Don't forget, you can call me, day or night," Munch said. He worried that it was too soon to leave Barba alone, it hadn't been three days since the attack, but he didn't want to invade his space either.

"I think I'll be ok."

"I know you'll be ok. But, just remember, I'm a phone call away. If you need to go out, call me. I've got nothing to do tomorrow."

"Thanks, I'll call."

Barba was relaxed and he enjoyed the meal he shared with Munch. He became fascinated with Munch as a person, and was enthralled and entertained by Munch's conspiracy theories. He knew that he and Munch would become great friends, a commodity that Barba sorely lacked. Friendship didn't come easy for him, probably due to his low self esteem camouflaged by a veneer of arrogance. With Munch, Barba didn't feel the need to put up fronts. After everything that he had been through, after everything that they had been through together, there was no need to put up false pretences. Munch had become his rock and most trusted confidant, strange considering they had really only spent a few days together, and didn't know each other that well before hand. Barba didn't question the circumstances of his newfound friendship with Munch. Instead, he decided to accept and revel in it. He knew that sometimes shared experiences, however brief, could be the strongest thread that could hold two people together.

Munch had seen him at his worst, and still, he was here, sharing something as simple as Chinese food. It was Munch who held him, who let him rest his head in his lap, and who provided comfort to him while he relived his terror. Barba finally found the ability to share his deepest secret because of Munch. He had held those secrets to himself for decades, literally decades, and when he revealed those secrets to him, Munch held him and reassured his fears.

"You got this, kid," Munch said.

"I'm no kid, John."

"Well, you say that now. Wait until you're as old as I am. Then someone your age seems like a kid. I'd kill to be your age again," Munch said. He nearly said that he's old enough to be his father, but he stopped himself in time.

"I guess I'll find out one day."

"Alright, now I'm going to sound like a broken record here, but call me if you need anything. Even if you don't need anything, or you just want to talk ok? No going out alone, don't answer the phone unless you know who's calling, all of that stuff ok?"

"I know, I know. I'll be ok."

Munch put on his coat and smiled. "You're welcome. Rafael," he said. "Come here." He opened his arms and pulled Barba into a gentle embrace and softly patted his shoulder. "You're gong to be ok, kiddo. It was my pleasure to stay with you for the last few days," he said, bending down a bit and looking into Barba's eyes. He gave Barba a squeeze and rubbed his back. "You take care of yourself."

"I will, and you too," Barba said, as he smiled and pulled his head away from Munch's shoulder.

For the second time that day Barba locked the door behind Munch. Like before, he felt a wave of nervousness come over him, but he was determined to make it through the night without having to bother Munch.

Sheer will and determination were not enough to stop the onset of panic. He curled up in bed and was devastated when the nightmares began again. The regular sights and sounds emitted by his environment; sirens wailing in the distance, streetlights casting shadows, and the sound of the radiators coming to life struck terror into his heart and mind. Burying himself under his blankets he blocked the outside world. He may have been able to hide from the world, but there was nothing that could block the horrible memories in his mind. This was only his first night alone since he was attacked, how would he get through it. He wondered how he would survive at all.