The knocking at the door wasn't enough to fully rouse Steve from his sleep. He had heard it, but was certain that it was his imagination, so he shifted in the rocker-recliner and pulled the afghan blanket his mother had crocheted for him up, stretched, and tried to fall back asleep. Almost as soon as his eyes closed they flew wide open at the sound of a soft voice crying his name.

Rafael sounded distressed. Steve pulled the lever to right the recliner and stood. "Coming," he said, yawning and stretching his arms over his head. Shit. He hadn't meant to fall asleep in the living room and leave Rafael alone. As he rounded the corner out of the living room, his jaw dropped and he froze.

"Steve," Rafael cried, his eyes wide with fear.

"Oh my god. Rafael…"

"Steven, how nice to see you again," Ken hissed. He held Rafael tightly, one arm wrapped around his neck, his other hand holding a gun to his head.

"Ken…There's no need for this," Steve pleaded, his hands in the air. His eyes darted from Rafael's panicked face, to Ken, his face full of hatred and rage.

Rafael whined softly, his eyes staring at Steve and begging silently for help.

"Quiet," Ken whispered in his Rafael's ear. "Steven, tell him to be quiet."

"Rafael, shh. It'll be ok. Ken, please. Let him go."

Rafael gasped and stumbled as Ken jerked his arm tighter around his neck. Incensed, Ken drew his hand back and hit Rafael with the gun. "Shut up," he screamed. "Tell your little fuck-piece here to shut the fuck up…" Ken yelled, his rage growing with every moan and whine Rafael made.

"Be quiet, Rafael. Ken and I are just going to talk for a bit. Everything's going to be ok."

Nodding, Rafael held his breath and focused his gaze again on Steve. He let out a whimper when Ken jerked him sideways and shoved the barrel hard against his temple.

"I said, tell him to shut the fuck up before I blow his head off. I'm not fooling around here…" Ken pointed the gun at Steve and then back at Rafael.

"Rafael, just be quiet. Please, just calm down." Steve closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Rafael. I'm sorry -" he muttered.

"Steve," Rafael sobbed. "You said you wouldn't let anyone hurt me," he cried, as Ken's finger twitched against the trigger.

"Ken, don't do this…" Steve said. Less than a second later his knees gave out and he collapsed, unsure of what he experienced first; hearing the bang of the gun or seeing Rafael fly from Ken's hold and fall to the floor.

Startled, Steve woke from his nightmare to Rafael standing in the living room, rubbing his eyes, and calling him.

"Steve? Are you alright?"

Adrenaline pumped through his body and Steve flew from his chair to Rafael. He pressed Rafael's head against his shoulder and held him tightly. "Rafael, thank-god. Are you ok?"

"Yeah," Rafael whispered, as he squirmed in Steve's embrace. "Are you?" he asked, his face squished between Steve's shoulder and hand. Alarmed, he sensed Steve's panic; he had always relied upon his calm, even-keeled personality to keep him grounded. "Were you having a nightmare?"

"Promise me, don't answer the door," he said. He bent down and swept Rafael up into his arms.

"What? Steve…" Rafael wrapped his legs around his waist and looked down into Steve's eyes. He cupped his face in his hands, unnerved by his strange request. "Why?"

"Rafael, please. Just play along. For me?" Steve begged. Gently, he jostled Rafael in his arms. "Just promise me, until this is all over, ok?"

"Ok…I promise. Wait. Till what's over? Put me down," he said, straightening his legs and struggling in Steve's grasp.

As soon as Rafael's feet touched the floor, Steve drew him into a bear-hug. "Rafael, I'm sorry."

Rafael relaxed against Steve's large frame and listened to his ragged breath. "Steve, what's going on?" he finally asked.

"Shh. Not now, Rafael. How are you feeling?"

"A bit rough, but I'll be fine."

Steve bent down and put his hands on Rafael's shoulders. "I'm exhausted. Do you still want to sleep for a bit?"

"Yeah…I'm still pretty tired too."

"Steve," Rafael said, when he felt Steve curl up behind him. "What were you dreaming about?"

"Just a nightmare. Nothing important. Let's just have a nap."

"Really?" Steve asked, trying not to sound too astonished. "You don't miss your father?" He sat back on the couch and stared at Rafael beside him.

Leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, Rafael licked his lips and stared at the floor under his feet. He shook his head a little and looked up at Steve. "I wasn't as lucky as you in the father department."

"Oh, I'm sorry…I didn't mean to pry."

"No, it's ok. You didn't know."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Steve asked, his voice soft and concerned.

"There's nothing to talk about." Rafael sat up straight and shrugged his shoulders. A sudden shyness came over him and he looked away. "It's no big deal."

Frowning, Steve rubbed Rafael's shoulder, lost for what to say next. He leaned down and gave him a gentle kiss on his cheek. "If you ever want to talk, you just say so. I love you, Rafael. Very much," he said, and kissed his cheek again.

"I know," Rafael said. He leaned his head on Steve's shoulder and smiled when he put his arm around him. Desperate to find a distraction from the moment, he picked up the remote and aimlessly flicked though the channels. "You decide," he said, and handed the remote to Steve.

Steve feigned interest in a cooking program and fidgeted with the remote, tapping it against his thigh and drumming his fingers on its side. He made little comments on the show, ran his hand up and down Rafael's side, looked down at him and wondered what he was thinking about.

Rafael forced himself to find the program interesting, nodding his head and agreeing with whatever comment Steve had made. "Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Nothing."

"Are you watching this?" Steve asked as he started to massage Rafael's neck.

"No," Rafael said, leaning into Steve and looking up at him.

"Me neither." Steve turned off the TV and tossed the remote on the table beside him. He shifted on the couch and stretched out his legs. "Here," he said, patting his chest and holding out his arms.

Rafael lay down and rested his head on Steve's chest. Comforted by the closeness and intimacy of the moment, his body relaxed on Steve's, feeling small and protected. He sighed as Steve massaged the back of his neck and shoulders. "I was hit when I was a kid…a lot. I guess, really, I was beaten up. Pretty bad sometimes. Like, not spankings, you know?"

"Oh no. That's awful. I'm so sorry, Rafael. I don't even know what to say."

"It was ages ago…I try not to think about it too much. Sometimes I have nightmares, but really, I don't let it bother me anymore. My dad…He, umm, hated me I guess. He was always mad at me, yelling at me or hitting me." Rafael's fingers circled and drummed on Steve's shoulders. He closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

"It was that bad?" As his heart sank, Steve raised his head and looked at Rafael, now lying still. He ran his hand through Rafael's hair and down his spine and back up to his neck. "I'm sorry…such a stupid question…Do you want to tell me about it?"

"I guess the worst thing he did was break my wrist. He was always yelling, smacking me, calling me names." Rafael sat up and unconsciously rubbed his left wrist.

"He broke your wrist? Oh my god, Rafael…This one?" Steve asked, taking Rafael's left hand in his.

"Yeah."

Steve sat up beside him and kissed Rafael's hand. He held his hand and massaged his wrist with his thumb. "I'm so sorry that you had to go through that…"

"I can still feel the spot where it was broken. It still hurts sometimes," he said, his voice cracking. He snuggled close and wiped his eyes, determined not to break down in front of Steve. In an attempt to disguise a sob, he forced himself to cough, and bit the inside of his cheek, as his mind struggled with an emotional tug of war. Part of him wanted to let out all of his pain, and confide in Steve, but the other part of his mind told him to remain stoic and strong. Steve's tenderness was making it hard for him to contain his emotions and the kinder and gentler he was, the harder it was for Rafael to hide his pain.

"I'm so sorry...Is this ok?" Steve asked, holding Rafael's forearm and rubbing his wrist slowly.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Rafael nodded. "It hurt so much, Steve."

"I can't imagine how awful it was for you. You must have been so frightened, poor baby."

"Yeah. I never understood why. Like, what did I do to make him hate me so much that he hurt me like that?"

"You didn't do anything -"

"Well now, that's not true. I must have. Why else?" Rafael asked, shrugging his shoulders and raising his eyebrows. "Why? Tell me, Steve."

"I don't know. But, I do know that it's not your fault. You realize that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I know. But still, I sure pissed him off."

Steve put his arm around Rafael's shoulder and squeezed him tight. "I love you, Rafael. I promise I'll never let anyone hurt you ever again."

Despite his headache, Rafael smiled when he opened his eyes, finding himself wrapped in Steve's protective arms. He rolled over and touched his cheek. "Steve."

"Hey. How are you doing?"

"Better…a lot better."

Smiling, Steve propped himself up on his elbow and leaned over Rafael. "Thank god," he said, leaning down to give the smiling Rafael a kiss.

"Steve, you have to tell me what's going on. We went out yesterday and I know I was in the hospital, but everything is…fuzzy, like a weird dream."

"Rafael," he sighed. "Do you want me to get you something? Maybe something to eat? Coffee?"

"Steve...I know something happened."

"How much do you remember?"

"Just sitting with you, and your ex showed up…Then, in the hospital, you…and my mom? Was she there?"

"Yeah, she was. She came right away. She was worried. I was too…Rafael, I have to tell you something. I don't know how to tell you this, so I'll just come right out with it. Someone put something in your drink. I don't know for sure, but, I think it was Ken that drugged you…"

"What? A date-rape drug?" Rafael sat up suddenly. "Are you serious? He drugged me? He didn't do anything did he?"

"No. Nothing like that happened. We left the bar by cab as soon as he came to our table. We went to see Derrick. That's when he noticed you were sick. He's the one that figured it out…We took you to the ER, and the tests showed that you had Rophypnol in your system."

"You're sure, right?"

"Positive. We were only apart for a moment, when you went to the washroom and I went to get us a drink. I promise you. Aside from drugging you, no one hurt you."

"Oh." Rafael lay back down and curled up. "You think Ken did it? Why would he do that?"

"Rafael, he's crazy. And he's dangerous. I think he targeted you to get to me. I'm so sorry this happened. Baby, you have no idea how sorry I am."

"You don't have to be sorry, Steve. It's not your fault."

"I have so much to tell you."

"You always tell me that I can tell you anything. You can tell me anything too, no matter what."