After being rescued, Tabatha was reluctantly rushed to the hospital to make sure she was fine. After a quick look over, she was free to go home. Tabatha begged to stay with Steve. Everyone decided it would be best, so she stayed at his office, taking a nap in his office chair every now and then, while he worked just outside in the main area. After two hours of paperwork and statements, Steve took her home. It was early afternoon when she walked through the door. Tabatha kept a hand on Steve at all times - clinging to his shirt, holding his hand, even looping a finger through a belt loop on his jeans. He didn't seem to mind.

Around 4:15pm, Steve was called back to the office for a quick rundown of what happened and another, smaller, case. He left Kono and Grover in charge of Tabatha. She locked herself in her room, relieved the blood stain had been removed - the whole carpet piece had been - and silently cried. It was a way to relieve the stress and fear she still felt.

She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew her eyes opened and it was the middle of the night. She found Steve sitting on the floor in front of the door, his head forward and his eyes closed. He was asleep. Tabatha let out a breath and felt herself doze off a bit more easily now that he was here.

7:23 am - March 28th, 2015

The pain in his neck woke him, and Steve grunted as he woke. With a grimace, he massaged his neck as he stretched his legs in front of him. The room was only slightly lightened from the rising sun. There she was, sleeping soundly in the bed a few feet away on her side. Her face was towards the door.. He pulled himself up with the door handle and leaned against the door. Steve watched Tabatha breath softly. Yesterday had been exhausting for all involved, and she needed the sleep. He couldn't resist his urge to join her, though, and moved silently to the bed. She didn't move as he gently laid beside her, facing her back.

Hesitation stopped him from wrapping his arms around her. Tabatha shouldn't be disturbed, Steve decided, and laid on his back, his hands behind his head. He had just wanted to go home yesterday, but he had a job to finish, and that included paperwork and reports. Steve hated having someone else do his reports - they didn't do it the way he liked. He was grateful Tabatha had been in the office with him, though. It made the day better. When they had gotten home, she had to touch him at all times. When they sat on the couch, she sat with their arms touching. When he went to the kitchen for a light meal, she followed him, grasping his shirt lightly. He didn't mind.

After the long four hours of a case, he had come back and tried to sleep in his own bed. Steve had dozed off for a little while, but then woke up in a cold sweat after a nightmare starring Tabatha being killed by the man called Leo while he watched. After that horrible vision, he had moved to her bedroom. He hadn't wanted to disturb her, so he had just sat on the floor. He had slept in worse positions.

Now here he was, lying next to Tabatha, and doing his damnedest to keep from smothering her with protection. His thoughts turned back to the last conversation they had before she was taken. With a frown, Steve closed his eyes. He was a damn fool for even allowing that argument to start. Danny and Kono had even heard it - Steve was humiliated after he had calmed down. Personal issues wasn't something he discussed with anyone, this was even worse.

She had admitted her feelings, and he had turned defensive. It was stupid, and Steve knew it. How did he feel? Hell, he was in love with her - had been since he met her. At the time, she had been a pre-teen, completely off his radar in that sense, but she was a friend right from the start. As she grew older, he grew more fond of her. After Steve realized how he truly felt, that day ten years ago, he sent her a note to cut it off. His line of work was dangerous, and Steve hadn't wanted her to waste her time on him.

Obviously, that hadn't worked, because now here she was, in his home, lying next to him.

"Shit," Steve muttered. He hated to get all emotional, but he could admit when it was time to face what he had been putting off. Tabatha being kidnapped had showed him that.

As if hearing his thoughts, Tabatha rolled over and cuddled into his side, her hand on his chest. Her eyelids fluttered as she woke.

"Steve?" she murmured, still mostly asleep.

"Hm?"

"Please don't leave."

Steve stayed silent. He didn't want to make promises he couldn't sleep.

9:11pm

Tabatha woke to an empty spot beside her and sat up, her chest tightening. Sitting in a panic, she gulped in air for a full 30 seconds. Finally, she felt herself relax. Hearing movement downstairs, she tensed once more.

"It's just Steve… it's just Steve," she repeated softly. After quickly dressing in simple jean shorts and a yellow tank top, Tabatha ran a brush through her blue hair. She noticed her roots turning back to her natural color. It was a little thing, but she was so twisted up over what had happened to her, it turned into a big thing. Tears filled her eyes and a lump was in her throat. Sniffling, she put her hands to her face and started to cry. She started crying so hard she had to sit back down on the bed. Tabatha pulled the pillow to her chest and cried into it.

After what felt like forever - but was really only a few minutes - the tears stopped, and Tabatha looked at her face in the mirror. Her face was red from the tears, but she forced herself to look away. Taking a deep breath, threw the pillow on the bed and reached for the door knob. After she unlocked it, she held the knob. It was cool in her hands. She tried to force herself to turn it, but she couldn't.

As she thought about leaving the room that was now hers, her breathing became shallow and the room seemed to close in on her. Tears filled her eyes again and she pulled her hand away immediately. Tabatha decided right there that there was no way she was leaving this room. It wasn't safe. This room was safe. The thought of starving never came to her mind.

Trembling, she climbed back into the bed, covering herself with the blanket, and curled into a ball.

Danny and Grace came over around noon. Grace wanted to make sure Tabatha was okay, and it was a Saturday anyway. Steve had already ordered an overload of chinese food, so he offered it to his guests.

"Thank you!" Grace said with a hum of delight. She took a seat and began to put food on a paper plate that was on the table. Danny shook his head and took a seat, not taking food.

"So, how is she?"

"She's… quiet," Steve answered. "I checked on her a few times this morning, and she was lying in bed, asleep. It's unusual for her to sleep this much…"

"She's exhausted after everything that happened."

"I'd be terrifying to leave my room if that happened to me," Grace said in a thoughtful tone as she chewed. Shuddering, she looked toward the stairway sympathetically. "She's so brave."

"I agree," Steve murmured, looking at the stairs himself. He frowned. "She hasn't eaten…"

"I'll take some food up to her," Grace offered with a smile.

"Be gentle," Danny advised. Grace nodded and took a plate of fried rice and a spoon. She heard the two men murmuring together as she made her way up the stairs. Grace knocked lightly on Tabatha's door. She heard some shuffling.

"Tabatha, it's Grace. I have some food for you." After a moment of silence, Grace heard the lock be undone. She waited for the door to open, but it didn't. "Tabatha?"

She opened the door gently and stepped inside. Tabatha was sitting on her bed with her knees up to her chest. Her arms were wrapped around them. Grace sucked in a quiet breath. She could feel how sad and troubled Tabatha was just by being in this room. Grace felt so bad for the woman. Taking a step forward, Grace put a smile on her face and held up the plate of food.

"Here, I'm sure you're hungry." She sat it on the nightstand next to the bed. Tabatha lowered her knees and crossed her legs. Her face was pale and her lips were in a small frown. She stared at Grace for a moment, then glanced at the food.

"Thank you," she whispered, her throat sore from not talking for a while. Tabatha dug into her food, finding she was extremely hungry. Grace took a seat across from Tabatha on the bed.

"You're welcome. How are you doing? Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"I.. don't think so," Tabatha muttered. After a moment of silence, she continued. "Please shut the door, would you? You don't have to leave. I just… want the door closed."

Grace did as Tabatha asked, then went back to her seat in the bed. Tabatha let out a breath once more in reaction to being more comfortable.

"Is there something you want to say that Danno and Uncle Steve won't hear?" Grace was a bit confused about the door issue.

"No, no," Tabatha said softly, sitting the empty plate to the side. "I just… it's hard to leave a safe place, you know?" She ran a hand through her blue hair and then fixed it. The girl in front of her was listening intently. Tabatha didn't want to tell her all the terrifying thoughts that ran through her mind. "I don't like the door open."

"Oh." Grace still didn't completely understand, but she did understand the need for a safe place. There was a knock on the door and Danny stuck his head into the room.

"Is everything okay? You've been in here for a while."

Tabatha saw the carpet of the hallway through the crack in the door and swallowed hard. Suddenly, she saw blood staining every part of the carpet she could see, in and out of her room.

"Close the door!" she cried, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around it once again. Tears filled her eyes and she began to tremble. Grace jumped, a little frightened and a lot worried.

"Tabatha? Are you okay?"

"Gracie, go downstairs, I'll make sure she's alright." Grace swallowed hard and left. When she did, the door opened wide and the blood Tabatha saw in her mind turned a darker red - looking more fresh.

"I'm sorry, Grace," she whispered, blinking as the tears fell down her cheeks. Danny stepped in and closed the door behind him. Tabatha breathed out, but still kept her knees up. Panicked, she looked up at Danny.

"Don't tell Steve. Please. I just… don't. He'll worry and he… he'll leave…" Tabatha buried her face into her knees.

Something isn't right. This isn't just recovering. She's… broken, Danny thought. No wonder she snapped at Grace. Danny made a mental note to speak to Grace and make sure she didn't take it took personally later. Now, though, he wanted to speak to Tabatha, try to help.

"He won't leave. He's downstairs cleaning up lunch. He'll probably be coming up here any minute." Danny chuckled. Tabatha didn't change her position. "Hey, it's gonna be okay. No one is going to let anything get to you."

"That's what you all said before," she said softly. "Please leave. I don't want to be rude, Danny. Just leave."

He did as she asked. Danny saw the panic look in her eyes when he opened the door. As he made his way back down to the kitchen, Danny thought about what it meant. She was frightened to leave her room. Had she seen something? A flashback? He understood dealing with trauma and flashbacks.

"Steve," he said as he entered the kitchen. Grace and Steve both looked up from the table. "She's a mess. She's not.. herself."

"I told him, Danno," Grace said softly. "She's sick."

Steve closed his eyes and rubbed his face.

"What can I do?" His voice was filled with helplessness.

"Don't leave," Danny said frankly.