Vanessa stayed in the shower for at least a half hour. Still, she felt dirty, as she often did when she thought about her time spent with Jonathan. Actually telling another soul about the events had only compounded the feeling.

One good thing had come from it; she had had an epiphany. She understood Jonathan now. While at Arkham, she had been an experiment, a toy that had served its purpose. He had planned to kill her that night, before he had been exposed to his own toxin.

The toxin: it had taken what was once a dulling infatuation, and turned it into a full blown obsession. That's what drove him now; she and her daughter would never be safe, never. A telephone call was the only reason Vanessa was alive today, and there were times, in her weaker moments, when she wished that phone hadn't rung.

Her shoulders felt heavy under the weight of these thoughts as she dressed herself. Instead of meeting Jackson in the kitchen, she crawled back into bed and pulled the covers tight around her body.

He came to check in on her once, though she didn't pay him any mind. He had told her she needed to eat, that she'd gone more than a day without food and needed something. When she told him she wasn't hungry, he had left the food by the bed incase she changed her mind and had not pressed the issue further. Vanessa stayed there as her food grew cold and the hours passed. She slept on and off, always woken by nightmares. Sometimes, she could hear Jackson as he moved about the trailer. The thought did cross her mind of where he was going to sleep. After all, she was in his bed, but she had a feeling there was not going to be a repeat of last night. He'd been disturbed by what she had told him, had shown a genuine concern. Vanessa wondered why he seemed to care so much, but none of it mattered, as long as he left her alone, his motivations were of little importance to her.

As the sun set, Vanessa drifted off to sleep for the fifth time that day. It was a restless sleep however, plagued by painful memories and terrifying images.

"Don't scream," Jonathan's voice ordered, while he pressed the knife against her throat. "Beg, Vanessa; beg for your life."

"No, I won't do it."

"Then you'll need incentive," he had said as he rested the knife between her legs.

Vanessa had been unable to see with the blindfold wrapped snuggly around her head - as a result, her other senses compensated. The cuts on her thigh burned, his body on top of hers felt like a crushing weight, and the knife he wielded felt as cold as ice. She had known he would not hesitate. He wanted to use it.

"Beg," he growled.

"Please, please don't…h-hurt me."

"Good girl…."

Strange sounds woke her from her nightmare. She could swear she heard the sound of footsteps crunching through the snow. As she sat up, a shadow appeared in the window. Vanessa choked back a scream and hid under the covers as this prowler pressed his face close to the window, trying to get a glimpse inside. Shortly after, she heard a scraping sound against the glass.

He couldn't get past the bars, could he?

When the sounds stopped, Vanessa dared to peak out from under the blanket and saw that the intruder was no longer at the window. Sliding out of bed, she crawled across the floor on her knees, being careful not to be seen or heard. Making her way into the living room, she saw no sign of Jackson. He must be asleep, she thought. Vanessa had no idea what time it was. She could hear the clock, but it was too dark to read. She tip-toed into the kitchen, there was still no sign of Jackson, could he be the one outside making all the noise?

At that moment, light footsteps approached the back door. The moon was full that night. It reflected off the snow covered ground and flooded the room with an eerie blue light. Vanessa hid under the kitchen table, hoping to remain unseen, as a man dressed in black, his face covered by a ski mask, tried the lock. Obviously, this was not Jackson. Locking himself out would have been impossible. Who was she kidding? She knew who it was. Hadn't she foolishly given him a clue as to her location? How many convenience stores were there at the edge of the mountains anyway? Why had she done that?

Vanessa felt as if her mind had begun slipping away the moment he had spoken to her.

She thought back to that conversation; the first time she had spoken to him in almost a year.

"Jonathan."

She had said his name with a heavy heart. She had pledged never to see his face or hear his voice again.

"Vanessa," he had said, with what sounded like concern in his voice. "I know you're frightened and I know you don't want to stay with this man any longer. I'm the only one who can help you now. Can you tell me where you are?"

"I don't know"

"Think, Vanessa. We don't have much time; did you see any landmarks, anything that would help me find you? I'll come for you, Vanessa. He won't be able to stop me."

"I'm not sure. We're in the mountains. There's a convenience…."

Was this man at the door supposed to be her savior? The ski mask he wore tonight was most likely for her benefit. Wasn't it a slap in the face, a cold reminder of what had happened to her that night, when those men had broken into her home and, as a result, she had found herself in Arkham? Jonathan had no other reason to hide his face. Vanessa could not imagine a scenario, so desperate, that she would ever turn to him for help.

When he stopped manipulating the door handle and moved on, Vanessa ran back to the living room, passing the door to the second bedroom along her way. She stopped dead in her tracks. She had seen the room before; had torn it apart looking for the keys to Jackson's car. It was hard to believe it was only now coming to mind. Blaming low blood sugar and her heightened sense of fear for the mental lapse, Vanessa turned the door knob. It opened two inches before she heard it knock against something, and refuse to open further. He must have braced it so he would wake up if she came into his room looking for car keys, weapons or anything else.

"Jackson," she whispered.

He was up and out of bed in an instant. He moved what turned out to be a nightstand away from the door and she rushed inside. Vanessa noted that he was wearing a T-shirt and boxer shorts.

So much for sleeping in the nude, I guess.

"What is it? Why are you whispering?" he asked.

"Lower your voice," Vanessa insisted. "There's someone here. Someone's trying to break in."

"That's not possible, Vanessa. You're imagining things. I told you, you should have eaten; you're delirious."

"I'm telling you, I saw someone; first at my bedroom window, then at the back door. It's

Jonathan. He's trying to find a way in. It is not my imagination."

"Vanessa, if he were here, it would have set off the motion detectors. This trailer may not be much to look at, but I didn't skimp on security," he reassured her.

As if on cue, a beeping sound permeated the trailer; the flood lights outside suddenly came on. Jackson's appeasing tone turned serious as he reached for his gun and quickly got dressed.

They went into the living room together, Jackson grabbing a flashlight along the way. He punched in the security code, opened the front door, and took several steps outside. When he looked over his shoulder and saw that Vanessa was still behind him he turned toward her angrily.

"Get back inside. It's not safe out here."

"But I," she began to say.

"Inside, now," he demanded.

Jackson didn't take his eyes off of her as she turned and walked back inside. He continued to watch as she closed the door behind her, making sure she was safely locked away from whoever had come by to visit. It had been her intent to close that door and lay low until Jackson came back, but that plan went out the window when she noticed the car keys on the coffee table. Vanessa held the door open scarcely more than a crack, as Jackson made his way to the side of the house, unaware of her latest scheme.

Jackson was out of sight, the lights were on, the car was forty feet away; how risky could it be? Propping the door open with her foot, she stretched as far as possible and managed to grab the keys. These weren't the keys to the BMW though; they must belong to the Escape. What an appropriate name, she thought as she opened the front door.

She moved as quickly across the front lawn as possible, being careful not to make any noise. The car was parked about ten feet past on old maple tree. On a hot summer day, one could certainly find solace under its branches, but tonight it concealed a predator. The rustling of branches above her alerted Vanessa to his presence. Their eyes met, just for a second, before he pounced, landing on top of her and knocking her to the ground before she even had a chance to scream.

Author's Note: Jonathan and Vanessa do a little "violent dancing" in the next chapter.

Thanks to emptyvoices for being my sounding board, and Not Human for making me what I am today!

Thanks to all who have read and reviewed. I love you all!