TRIGGER WARNING: Multiple rape cases discussed. Different stories told. (Not graphic, but still emotionally disturbing) Also, Jonesy has been doing a lot of forward moving, but there are forward and backward movements when in the process of recovery, and she's bound to sometimes not be able to move forward.

Don't Make Me Over 12

Hours had passed. The situation with Rachel took a lot out of her, but it was for the best for the woman, who probably had never been an abusive situation ever before in her life. Watching the police arrest Finn was somewhat rewarding and she had an opportunity to meet Rachel's dads – whom she immediately loved (but she sort of always clicked really well with gay guys, for whatever reason). Blaine met up with them and they all had a nice meeting in the room, talking and laughing, old friends' style… Rachel probably needed that and Mercedes had to admit to herself that she kind of did, too. When Kurt brought her back to her car outside of Unique's studio, he told her, "I can't thank you enough."

"I did what I had to do," Mercedes told him, kissed him on the cheek and got out, adding, "We'll get together, soon. Sometime before we bring Rachel home from the hospital."

"Definitely," he said.

Then, she rode to Tina's job. Tina was arguing with a guy about how much money he would get for the guitar that he was trying to pawn, so she looked over some of the other things, until he left. "Goddamned crackheads always thinking that they know how to hustle," Tina complained as she watched the guy leave, on her way to Mercedes. "Jonesy!" She wrapped her arms tightly around her friend and smiled brightly. "Girl, I almost feel like I've seen a ghost, or something. How've you been?"

"Distant, though I know that much is obvious," Jonesy answered.

"Yeah. I knew that it was hard seeing all of us again after what happened, but then when you rushed out of practice that night and we sort of didn't hear from you again and Sam's being pretty damned secretive. I don't know… I was really worried. Don't know if you remember, but you and I have been cool a little longer than you and Sam." Tina folded her arms and made a serious face. "You feel like talking about it?"

"Yes, and not just to some counselor, but to a friend," Jonesy said.

"K—aaaay…" Tina said, looking slightly confused. "You're seeing a counselor? I didn't realize that it was that bad. Had Finn done this shit to you before, when you were fooling around with him? Is he the one that had those bruises on your arms when we thought that it was Anthony?" Tina asked, getting more and more mad with virtually no confirmed information.

"T…" Jonesy said and covered her face with one hand. This was already a mistake and she felt a headache coming on. "You were the only person that I ever told about Finn and I. I mean, I met him through you and he was being clingy and stuff."

"I never told anybody about it. He was the one who would let stuff spill and I generally tried to get him to shut up."

"Yeah, well… I mean, you're the only person that I ever trusted with the info about us, so that's why when I needed to talk to somebody, I came to you today. This is pretty heavy, right now, T. I need you, K?" Jonesy said. "Can you meet up with me when you close up shop?"

"I can," Tina said and bit her lip while tapping her foot. "But, I'm gonna get Canada to cover me and dip out right now, because this sounds more important than I can handle waiting for." She disappeared for a moment, came out of the back with a young black male, talking, and carrying her purse and guitar case, and joined hands with Jonesy. "Let's hit the road."

Sitting on top of Tina's jeep, in the parking lot of the park, Jonesy took a deep breath. She couldn't tell Tina everything, but she did need to tell her the most pressing issue of the moment – this possibility. Yet, she couldn't tell her how it happened, so hopefully Tina wouldn't ask too many questions, because she was only going to get half truths if her questions were too heavy. "There is a strong possibility that I might be pregnant," Mercedes said.

"Oh wow! I wasn't expecting you to say that. Jeeves. Congrats? I'm sorry? Damn, Jonesy, you and me have drifted so far apart that I don't even know what kind of news this is for you."

"Well, it might be Finn's," Jonesy said and frowned.

"Oh. In that case, I'm sorry," Tina said. She exhaled and crossed her arms. "Well, I don't want to ask questions or overwhelm you with options that I know that you've probably considered, so… Just tell me what you need to and I'll be right here."

"Your friendship means a lot to me, T. Over the past few months, things have been hectic. That stuff with Anthony. The stuff with Finn. Stuff with Sam."

"Shit… Sam… I guess that you haven't told him," Tina said.

"Sam and I aren't together," Jonesy said, "But, Girl… He's been so good to me."

"He loves you. He always has. Well, I mean, he has for a long time," Tina said. She stretched her legs in front of her and leaned back, pulling Jonesy to herself. Jonesy rested her head on Tina's chest and started crying. "I can't tell you what to do. I could tell you what I would do."

"Kill it?" She said.

"Well… Terminating an unwanted pregnancy with an abusive sort of ex is a reasonable decision… But, I also know that you want to have children, and if you decided that you want to have this kid – hell, you've got just as much of a right to choose that as you would have to choose not to have it." Tina said.

"Yeah, but I have a feeling that nobody is gonna see it that way…" Mercedes said.

"And? Are they gonna foot any of the damned baby bills? They gonna change any of those damned diapers?" Tina wondered.

"Sam… might," Mercedes said.

"Well, I'll tell you what. He doesn't have to help with anything if he's so against it. If Sam disagrees with your decision, that's his prerogative, but let's be real – if you two aren't together, he doesn't have a say. Hell, not that I think about it, that's your body. Even if you and he were together, it's still your choice." Mercedes sniffled for a time longer and Tina just stroked her hair, "Oh, my poor Jonesy Pie. I can already tell that you've made up your mind. You scared that Finn'll fight you for custody, or something?"

"Hell no. I would never even let him know that it's his. I'd deny it until the ends of the earth and he can't make me test it out… Can he?" She asked, sitting up, suddenly.

"You know – I don't know. We can research it, though. In the meantime, don't we need to verify that you actually are, before we start making plans?" Tina asked.

"I'm too afraid. I mean… I'm not ready to deal with this. I just want to, to… I just want to vent about it, right now. I know – that's stupid. I should be dealing with it and not running from it, right?" She asked.

"I would prefer not to be your Yes Man, but I do think that it's up to you how you decide to handle things, but hell – you can't wait too long, Girl. What if you decide that you don't want this thing? You'd better figure it out in time to be able to handle it." Tina pulled her knees to her chest and asked, "So, it'd be Finn's, then? Like, for sure? Because unless you slipped up, you're declaration to swear off men seems like it was a pretty long while ago. Think that our limit is twelve weeks, here."

"I swore off of men about twelve weeks ago, I think… That's about three months, right? Yeah, around that time," she said, nodding.

"Well, that means that you don't have a lot of time to decide," Tina told her. She frowned and rubbed a palm across her friend's back. "Just keep that in mind. Whatever you decide – Tina Cohen Chang is your homie. If you decide that you're not ready to be a single mama, I'm your girl. If you give me a lil' diva ass goddaughter or godson, to be honest – I can't wait to see you have a son. He'd be like a miniature Prince. Not like a Disney charming ass prince, but THE Prince…" Jonesy bust out laughing at the thought of it.

"His ass sure would be. Girl, I'd have that boy in all kinds of purple, frilly ass onesies. Kurt could make them for him," she said and wiped away her final tears. "I need to take a test…"

"We'll go with one. Mike doesn't come home until late. You can take it with me," Tina said.

"Got one, just haven't taken it," Jonesy said.

"Think you're ready?" Tina wondered.

Jonesy felt bad for not telling her everything. If she knew the truth, she would immediately tell her that it was the worse idea. She would refute everything that she said and automatically believe that she should go through with the procedure. Most people didn't believe the rape babies should live. Most people didn't think that the time should be taken to allow them to be real children, because they weren't conceived in love. "There's more to consider than what I'm saying. It's just too much to really talk about going on with this. So, no – I'm not ready, but I promise that I'll make a decision in time." She had an extra month that Tina wasn't aware of.

When Mercedes saw Grace get out of her car to head for the group therapy meeting that she had been told about, she got out of her car, too. She had been feeling ridiculously sick and didn't feel like getting out, but Grace suggested that she attend these weekly group meetings, because they were beneficial, in addition to the therapy that she was getting. She had already increased her therapy to twice a week, and with the group therapy, she now had Tuesday through Thursday to try to sort out her issues. She walked slowly up to the door, which Grace held open for her and gave her a tiny smile.

When they went into the designated room, silently, Mercedes immediately noticed the woman that she had once seen in Grace's office, crying about her pregnancy. She was HUGE now. She sat next to a girl who Mercedes had to admit actually looked a lot like she did, and there were another two there. Mercedes remembered at first thinking, I didn't even realize that there were this many black women in Lima, then being depressed that the one time that she was gathered in a room full of them that it was for something like this. She found a seat next to a pretty, light skinned woman who had her hands folded in her lap.

She didn't know the protocol for something like this, so she couldn't decide if she was supposed to say hi, smile, or shake hands. This wasn't like a fellowship – more like a terrible obligation to try to get things resolved that weren't your fault, so being social about it seemed awkward, but not being polite seemed rude, so she say, "Hello," in almost a whisper.

"Hi, I'm Andrea," the woman said.

"MJ," Mercedes told her, then sat with her hands in her own lap.

Grace glanced at her watch and said, "We only have one more person to wait for, then we can get started." She sat down, on the other side of Mercedes and the pregnant woman sighed, leaned back and rested her hands on her belly. A few of the others began to talk amongst themselves as Mercedes waited patiently for the last person to enter.

When the woman finally came inside, with her head wrapped up in a head wrap and a large tote bag, Mercedes stared curiously at her. She looked like a teacher, or something. "Good evening, Ladies. I apologize for my tardiness. My lecture ran a bit late." She set her bag down by the door, shut it, then took a seat next to Grace. "I see a few familiar faces and a few new faces. Always saddens me to see new faces, but I'll be damned glad when I never have to see you again. Beautiful women – simply adorable, but I hate that we all have to meet this way and because of the reasons that we are here today." Mercedes sighed. You and me both, Sister.

"Before we go any further, I would like to introduce myself, for the benefit of those who are not familiar with me. My name is Carmen Tibideaux. I am a professor of Sociology at the University of Ohio, though I hail from New York and spent most of my life as a performance artist. I went back to school for Psychology after my mother's death, at which time, she admitted to me that I was a product of a rape and that she had never wanted me to have that type of stigma, as a child. I ended up changing my major to Sociology during my sophomore year when realized that I was more interested in the bigger factors of these types of crimes than I was in individual attacks."

The pregnant woman commented, "Why Dr. Tibideaux… you don't look a day over thirty."

The woman teased, "I'm not, Shadonza. Girl, didn't I mention that my performance art career was when I was a child?" She winked at her and the woman laughed. "So, to make a much longer and deeper story short and simple, I ended up wanting to help women like you to not have to deal with what you went through alone, like my mother did. Women often suffer in silence, especially black women, because unfortunately, society doesn't equate us with the rest of womanhood, much less humanity. In a society where we were essentially used for the purposes of satisfying animalistic needs of men, in which we still carry around stereotypes of old as it relates to alleged hypersexuality and insatiable appetites…"

Now, Mercedes raised a finger and asked, "What if you do… or did have one?"

Carmen smiled gently and told her, "Then, that's your prerogative and has nothing to do with the overall activity of every black woman alive. I'm speaking of the insistence that all of us in the room lost our virginities as soon as we hit puberty and have been "wanting it" since. Having society think that you always want it makes it easier for them to give you something that you never asked for, or something that you've already rejected."

Grace cleared her throat and said, "If I may extend some input to MJ, Carmen?"

"Grace us Grace," Carmen said.

Grace looked at Mercedes and told her, "If someone wants to do something wrong, they will usually find an excuse. They will usually try to turn it around and many times, society helps them out. Because you may have a past, society suddenly knocks you several pegs down. Suddenly, you aren't worthy enough to be a victim in their eyes, because you've done things that they wouldn't do. In my case, it was – I knew too much. I should have seen the signs. I should have known how to handle the situation. I should have been able to psych my way out of it. I was even told that I knew too much about being a victim for anyone to seriously believe that I was assaulted."

Mercedes stared at Grace… She was a survivor? But… she was so well balanced. She was so put together… Grace continued to say, "It took me some time to deal with it. I pressed the charges against my assailant. I was his psychiatrist, at the time, but I made the report, did the kit, the works. I went through all of the steps. I did everything in the rational way that everyone who doesn't know how this feels tells you that you need to handle it. I was still disbelieved, by many. There were people that I thought were my friends who began to look at me differently. I didn't quit. I went all the way with it, and after he was convicted and I exhaled, I cried, and I realized that even though I went through all of those steps, even though he received justice… I still wasn't healed. I had the training. I knew all of the process, but actually feeling it and living it, there was some disconnect between these things for a long time, for me…" They all continued to talk. Mostly, Mercedes was listening.

Shadonza had been attacked by the man that she was separated from, at the time. He somehow thought that this would help her to reconsider the divorce. She had a month or so left to go ad she as going to be putting the child up for adoption, because she simply didn't think that she would ever be able to love him or her. "I will always see him. Even if it looks just like me. Even if it acts just like me… I'll only see him and that's just not fair to this kid – for me to keep it, knowing that I'll resent it. I would've gotten rid of it, but I waited too long. I didn't want to admit what my husband did to me. I told a friend and she told me that it was impossible for a husband to rape his wife and told me that no jury would EVER find him guilty of it. I was convinced enough to keep things to myself. I was sick, stressed, depressed, and all that. By the time it dawned on me that I was actually pregnant, the FIRST thing I did was make an appointment… but they told me that I was too far along."

Andrea had been assaulted by a masked man on the way to her car from a late night at the library, for an assignment. "I recognized his voice. I know that it was someone that I knew, but he had planned well. He didn't leave a trace of anything and my knowing his voice simply wasn't enough. That's what my first time was like – being shoved into my car at knife point, stripped and violated in my backseat. I don't know if I'll ever want to be with anyone, ever again. I lost my longtime boyfriend. He wanted to be there for me, but it's so hard to keep up trust and to keep up any sense of normalcy when its ripped from you like that and you don't even have a good frame of reference for the sexual things. All I have are memories of brutality and even the beautiful kisses that I used to have are now tainted with the taste of tears. I can't even kiss without crying," she said, tears falling, now.

Cameo had been victimized by the son of a friend of her parents'. "He told me that I should have been glad that he even wanting something like me. Because I'm fat, dark skinned and ugly, that was a reason that I should wish to be an object that he used so hatefully and selfishly…"

"You ain't ugly, Cameo. He was," Sheila interjected.

"Well, I felt that way. I had never really felt pretty. The world showed me enough pictures of what pretty was, what sexy was, what desirable was, and NONE of them looked remotely like me. When that happened, I remember wondering, for a moment – if maybe I should have been happy? I actually, for a bit thought that it was possible that this was the best that I could do, that those horrible feelings and that vicious treatment was all that a girl like me could hope for." Cameo cried and admitted, "Every then and now, a pesky voice will try to whisper to me that lie."

Sheila had been attacked by a group of guys at a party that she was a bit drunk and very flirty at. She snuck off with one into the bathroom and he ended up inviting a couple of buddies along. "The thing that really kills me about this is the way that everybody acts like the stuff that happened to us were isolated incidents, or like some big bad monster rolled into town in a mystical wicked mist. This shit… These dudes I saw damned near every day! I was ready to fight it – even though I knew how suspicious I was gonna look. Drunk ass went into a bathroom to fuck, in the first place, and I knew that people probably weren't gonna believe that I drew the line when the other two came in and I tried to leave. Then, I was approached by lawyers of the families who wanted to keep shit silent, and I'm not gonna lie – I settled. The next semester, the same dudes did it to another girl and she killed herself." Sheila shook her head and fanned herself with both hands. "Never even met her and I always see her face."

Grace reached for Mercedes hand and asked, "Did you want to tell the group anything?" Mercedes looked around at the women. They understood. It happened differently for all of them, but they understood. She felt more close with Sheila than the others, but she felt a deep bond with everybody in the room.

She cleared her throat and practically whispered. "I eluded to it, but I'm not what you'd call a "good girl." I keep having to remind myself that this didn't make it my fault, even though there are other factors that I don't want to get into, and there are several ways that it could be looked at as my fault." She sighed. "I was raped twice." They all looked shocked, hurt, angered at this news. "The first time, I didn't think it was my fault, but I did feel like nobody gave a damn, even though it wasn't. The second time, I thought it was my fault and I took it. I didn't even fight him. I knew that I couldn't, so I just took it. I don't know what I expect out of life or what I even want in my future. All I know is that I don't want this… This is… unbearable. Sometimes I wake up and breathing hurts." She shook her head, "Forget I said that. It's stupid. I've gotta go…" She reached for her things and started to flee, but Shadonza stopped her and wrapped her in a hug.

Mercedes fell onto the woman's shoulders, crying and the other lades in the room began to join in the hug, as well. Her first group meeting was emotional and she didn't know if she could take another, but she accepted all of the phone numbers being given to her at the end, and allowed Carmen and Grace to walk her to her car, afterwards. "Miss Tibideaux – your mom… did she ever blame you? Hate you? Treat you badly?"

Carmen sighed and rested against the car, "She did her best. When I was younger, I remembered thinking that I must have not been good enough. She was forever pushing me to do things right, to succeed, to be something and I became very self-conscious, but I also was an overachiever. She eventually told me that she wanted me to be the kind of woman who, if anything ever happened to me, if I was ever hurt – that people would support and believe." Carmen sighed and said, "I think that some part of her blamed herself, the whole time. She may have seen something in me that reminded me of him, but, even though she was hard on me, I never once felt like she didn't love me. I never would have used the word hate to describe anything between us."

"Because Shadonza…" Mercedes said, "Because of the 32,000 women who get pregnant from rape… It just seems like most of the time, the victim can't get past it. What if she thought that she was strong enough to handle it, then found out that she wasn't? Is it better to take the chance or not risk it?"

"I can't say what's better. That's relative to the situation. But, I can say that if you take the chance and find out that you aren't strong enough, at any age, you can turn a kid over to someone else, but if you don't take a chance, you can't ever go back and decide to have a baby that you decided against having. You could have another one, with someone else, but whoever the one that didn't come to be was going to be would be gone. Of course, I'm also biased because I could've been terminated, due to circumstances. Do you need me to email you some stats on rape pregnancies?"

"I' curious about the info," Mercedes said. Grace was silent as Mercedes gave Carmen her email address. "One last question… Did you ever know or meet him? Your… I don't know if I should call him your father?"

"He went to church with us," Carmen answered. "Knew the man my entire life before I learned that they look and sometimes act like everyone else. But, that's actually part of a bigger problem – the fact that it is normal to rape and to be raped and the fact that human beings are highly desensitized to such a sensitive issue. There are times when I wish that my mother had never told me what she did, because now I have a stigma. Now, I think back on things and it could've been that she simply had a bad day, but I can't help but wonder – was she thinking about him, that time? But, if she hadn't told me, then you and I would not be here and I honestly think that we both can benefit from our relationship."

"Both? I don't have anything that I can give you in return for helping me," Mercedes admitted.

"Trust me, you do. This part of my life is without a charge. I do this so that women like you and Grace and Shadonza and the others can be healed, or at the very least, operational. The happiest moments in my life are when you all don't need me anymore. It was good to meet you, MJ. I hope to see you again, next week."

Yes, she took the test, but she couldn't look at it. That would mean too much change and she was already overloaded with change, in the first place. The information that Carmen sent her was not of much help. In fact… It made her feel more conflicted about things. She didn't want Finn's baby. She couldn't readily think of shit that she wanted less than that… but what if? There were too many things to consider and there was too much on her mind for her to make a decision. If she was going to have an abortion, it would have to be quickly decided and quickly done, or she wouldn't go through with it.

If she did have one, it would not be her first, and she was not so old and it was not so far in the past that she didn't remember how terrible it was for her. She honestly, if she had to pinpoint the time when she thinks she lost her mind, she would say that it happened then. It was a bad experience for her, because she had no say in what was being done to her body. She had no say in what was being done to that which she considered her baby. She didn't want to do it. Mother's Day always depressed her and sometimes, going through the baby section in shops made her sad. But now, she felt like her body was being taken over in reverse. Now, she had a baby that she had not consented to having planted inside of her, having no say in that, but having all the say in what to do with this situation, now.

She would have to decide if she wanted to try to be a mother, as she dreamed of being since her chance was robbed from her years ago, or whether it would be easier to rid herself of the child, thus all ties and tangible memories of Finn. She went into the bedroom, still holding the test in her hand, still unable to brave a glance at it. Sam was out, on a date "sucking up to" his friend for bailing. That made her sad as hell to hear, but she feigned gladness, for his sake. He earned and deserved some joy and she knew better than to pretend that she could give him any, no matter how she was starting to feel. Hell, those feelings were probably gratitude… or hormones.

"Bitch, just look at the test! Look at it!" She fussed at herself. She set it down, and took a photo of it, with her phone, making sure not to look at the result, but hoping that her phone picked it up. Then, she texted it to Tina, avoiding trying to focus on it. She paced, after that, clenching her phone until it buzzed and looked at the response from Tina. I'm here for you – whatever you need. That really didn't tell her anything and as crazy or silly as it was, she still couldn't make herself look at it, so she called Tina. "Hey," she sniffled.

"Hey," Tina said, back, shuffling around to leave the room that she was in with Brittany, Santana and Quinn. "How do you feel?"

"Like a coward," Mercedes said.

"Don't. If you're leaning towards the abortion, that doesn't make you a coward. It just means that you realize that you are not ready for this baby," Tina said. That was when Mercedes finally glanced at the face up test and her eyesight was blurred with the tears. Pregnant.

"I don't know what I'm leaning towards, but I need you to keep this between us. I still have no idea what I want to, what I'm going to do," she said and wiped her eyes. "It's been an emotional week."

"Chillin' with Britt, Tana and Quinn, if you want to come over to not focus on it for a bit," Tina told her.

"That sounds good. Sam's on a date, so I'm here alone with my fucked up thoughts," she said, already feeling weak and whiny.

"Girl, your thoughts have no fucked up on the fucked up stuff that goes through my mind, constantly. And… Sam's on a date? With who?"

"I don't even know. He keeps calling her an old friend and hasn't said her name. Must be one of those undesirables. Probably Kitty. He just better not let me find that shit out, because that bitch will run into the front of my car. She would run into my car ten times."

"Or Aphasia," Tina suggested.

"Oh hell to the NO! That's that bitch that Anthony fucked in MY house!" Mercedes shook her head and said, "I'm actually gonna just go to bed, okay?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't even know that much about her," Tina said.

"Don't be. Have fun with the girls. I wasn't in the mood for a crowd anyway and Quinn's basic ass kills the hell out of my patience."

"Alright. Call me if you need anything. I'm gonna be keeping up with you, no matter what, Babe," Tina said.

"I appreciate that," Mercedes said and hung up. She set her phone on the table and looked at the bed beneath her. A bed that she had invited Finn into, and Anthony, and Azimio and Dave, and Puck, a couple of times, and dudes whose names she couldn't even remember and sometimes never caught and where Finn had did this things to her. She stood up, with folded arms, tapping her foot. A bed that she had invited Sam into, but he turned her down, because he thought that she was too drunk and didn't know what she was doing and he told her that he loved her too much to do that to her. So, naturally, she pretended not to remember a thing about it, but there was eternal sexual frustration between them, since and that was when Finn started to act a damn entire fool… like she didn't have a man already, anyway.

Anthony – that sleazy bastard wasn't worth a second thought, but she had him in this bed many times and watched his ass fight with Sam over a bitch that he had the nerve to fuck in the damned bathroom. And now, Sam was seeing that bitch again? That boy was a glutton for torture and that was his business. But, hell – he had enough bitchy exes to not have to disrespect their friendship by fucking with that one again, of all people… wait… Jonesy sighed and asked, "The hell am I doing?" She had bigger concerns than who Sam was sleeping with and how much of a BITCH she was. But she couldn't. Help. It. If she didn't deserve Sam, that chick certainly didn't! But then again, who the hell was she to try to determine that? Somebody who cared enough about Sam not to mess up his life with her baggage all of these years… Frustrated, she picked up her mattress, without a second thought and flipped it over!

Then, she determined that she was pissed off at it and never wanted to see it again, so she began to drag it outside and the other pieces of the bed followed. "Nobody's fucking me, raping me or rejecting me on this shit again!" She said and went inside to get lighter fluid that Sam sometimes used in barbeque. She lit the pile on fire and found the flames unsettlingly soothing. She was probably going to get a ticket, because she certainly knew that yard fires were illegal, especially one that big. Shit if she cared.

She began to dig out stuff that she had from holding on to exes and things that were simply still lying around and marching them outside to toss them in. She glanced around the room for other stuff that she didn't want or need and collected a few more things, then grabbed the pregnancy test and tossed those things too. She had her arms folded, watching, thoughtfully when Sam's truck rushed into the driveway. He ran up to her and fought to catch his breath, "Jonesy, what's going on? Neighbors called and said that you were setting shit on fire!"

"I'm just watching it now," she told him and sung, "Just gonna stand here and watch it burn…" He sighed and looked at the fire.

"What is this?" He wondered.

"Useless stuff."

"Your bed?" He asked.

"That's where it happened," she told him. He took a swallow and watched the fire with her. "How was your date?" She asked. Sam sighed and went to retrieve the hose to put out these flames.

"I ditched out early, again, when I thought you'd burn down the house. She pretty much told me that she's not ready to be number two to you again and I wished her farewell."

"Which one was it – Kitty or Aphasia?" She asked.

"Jonesy, Kitty offended everyone that I care about and got into bareknuckle fight with my mom. And Aphasia cheated on me in my own house, with your boyfriend. If you really think I'd ever go out with either of those women again, even for a moment, you can't possibly think much of me. How was your day. This backyard bonfire seems counterproductive."

"Oh trust me, this is progress. I never want to see this thing again," she said and headed back into the house. He eventually joined her inside and saw her packing up a few bags. He stared at her waiting on an explanation. She suddenly looked up at him and mentioned, "I'm going to be away for a few nights." She nodded her head and gave him an awkward hug.

"What did I do wrong?" He wondered, feeling a strange tension between them, suddenly.

"Nothing, and I like it like that," she answered. "I'll catch up with you, later." In fact, she had nowhere in particular that she felt that she could honestly go. Now might be a perfect time for that trip that she talked about. It was kind of late, but Mary was always going to bed late, anyway, so she gave her a call.