Hello my lovely readers. thanks for your patience with this one, everyone. A lot of you were wondering how Olivia was doing after the big revelation. Well, here is your answer.

This chapter is unbeta'd again, so any mistakes you see are all mine. Sorry about the errors ahead of time!

No chapter song this time around.

Just a quick reminder that Olivia's had a rough night. The chapter is in her POV and she's not thinking clearly or feeling up to par at all. Be patient and kind with her if you can :-)

SM owns Twilight. I own Olivia, her past and everything that somes with it.

OPOV

Warmth, chamomile, sandalwood, a soft ringing sound... these are the things that my senses registered as I stirred foggily out of sleep. I was in the quiet, weighed down state where my mind was slowly regaining consciousness and awareness, but my body was resisting the change, lying heavy and unmoving in the same position I slept in and wanting to stay that way – if only the soft ringing sound would let it. I sighed discontentedly as the warmth around me shifted, threatening to move out from under me. I didn't want it to. I was comfortable enough to want to stay right where I was for hours. I frowned and nuzzled my nose softly into the warmth, willing it to stay just a little longer...

Oh, I thought as I shifted my face back and forth minutely. I think I might have even groaned softly out loud. That hurts...

That one little shift of my neck to nuzzle into the safety and security of my soft warmth made me want to slip right back to sleep just to escape the stiffness and pain I registered when I did it. My neck was sore and achy, like I had slept on it wrong, which was odd because I knew I hadn't. No, I'd slept well. I was warm and safe and comfortable and feeling pretty well rested from a long and peaceful night's sleep, which wasn't that common for me. I usually slept through the night, but not very soundly. I'd wake up at the smallest sounds and movements in my surroundings or even flashes of light from my window. Which made the fact that I was slow to wake to the ringing of what was obviously a phone this morning very strange...

"I'm with her now," a soft, deep voice rumbled right after the ringing stopped.

I gasped silently and was suddenly much more alert.

Seth. The warm, chamomile and sandalwood scented piece of comfort and safety I'm cuddled up next to is... Seth.

Oh... my... Lord.

I squeezed my eyes shut, froze absolutely still and tried not to make a sound as the night before came back to me in a horrifyingly clear rush.

It was... bad. It was very bad. It was about as horrible as things could ever get for me. There was the panic attack after seeing John, not being able to tell Seth what was wrong with me while I was having it and then everything that came afterward... everything that was said and just... put out there...

Lord, help me.

I can't believe I told him.

And how I told him.

Oh. No.

I was a complete mess while talking about it. And after talking about it.

"Not today. I'm staying with her," I heard him mumble in the background.

There was a pause while he listened to whoever was on the other end of the line. I stayed frozen, eyes now open and trained on the thick comforter wrapped around me from shoulder to toe, having absolutely no clue what to do about anything.

I'd spent the previous night telling Seth about me... about Travis and what he'd done to me... had two panic attacks and then had fallen asleep in his arms and in his bed.

None of this was familiar territory. I didn't tell people about Travis and I had definitely never fallen asleep with a boy before, or woken up in one's bed.

"Thanks, Nessie. Tell Jake I'll call him later." There was another short pause. "Yeah, I'll tell her. Bye."

So he was talking to Renesmee... I wondered why she would call him so early on a Tuesday morning.

I gasped again, out loud this time, as I remembered what day it was. It was Tuesday – the first day of school. My mind raced and I tried to sit up, glancing at the light coming through the window at the top of the wall opposite the bed. Seth and I both had class at eight thirty, and judging by the light and what was, without doubt, a concerned phone call from Renesmee as to why she and Jake hadn't seen us, I was pretty sure we'd missed it.

My limbs were sore and seemed to ache straight through to the bone as I shifted them trying to move the thick comforter off of me. I definitely groaned out loud that time. It was a familiar pain – one I'd always gotten from the tension in my muscles after a particularly bad panic attack in the past. Even after the immediate panic was gone, my muscles could remain tense for hours until I was calm or had slept long enough for them to relax. In the past it would always take me a day or two to rebound after one, which was why the doctor my mom had taken me to see had prescribed me the Xanax. As bad as they were, I could handle the panic attacks themselves. The breathing techniques and visualizing a calm and safe place during them always helped me find my way out of the attack itself... but the after effects were harsh and often painful. The Xanax helped me relax quicker, sleep longer and left me feeling stronger and steadier the day after an attack.

"Hey," Seth said softly, catching me gently around the arms with his own, "hold on."

He wrapped me up in a warm, light embrace, and then sat up, bringing me with him, his chest to my back.

A quiet moan escaped my throat as he did. My body was as stiff as a board and on fire with aches and pain. As I folded my legs up a bit to adjust to my new seated position I knew they were the worst of it.

"Oooohhhhh" I breathed out tightly as I tried to stretch my legs back out. All thoughts of class and lateness flew straight out of my head at that point. There was no way I was in any shape to do much but go home, take my medicine, and rest off the pain.

"Liv?" Seth questioned quietly, his voice still thick with morning misuse after a night's sleep. The concern in his tone struck deeply with me. He had been so good to me the night before... the way he'd listened to me and taken care of me was something that no one had ever done for me before. And it appeared he wasn't done yet.

"I'm ok," I rasped out, and then reached toward my throat which scratched and burned like it often did after a night of abuse from choking out sobs. It was then that I felt my wrist burning and throbbing.

"Shit," Seth hissed out between his teeth. I startled and found myself blinking rapidly in surprise at his angry tone and the face that he cursed. I'd never heard him swear before. He must have seen the surprise in my expression because he immediately apologized for it.

"Sorry, Liv. It's too early for my verbal filter to work," he explained remorsefully. I just shook my head lightly, letting him know that I was ok with it. I didn't curse, but I knew that most people our age did. It didn't bother me, as long as no one expected me to do it. There was no reason for him to feel guilty about it. I knew I was the exception to modern social rules when it came to things like profanity.

I stopped shaking my head almost immediately because the muscles in my neck protested loudly when I did. I let my arms fall forward onto my lap, bringing the comforter down with them as I laid my hands down in front of me. As I did I realized what Seth was swearing about. The wrist of my right hand was pinkish-red and swollen, with several green-black bruises dotting the surface on the underside of my forearm.

Seth's large hand reached forward. He laid it down next to mine and let his thumb brush lightly over the injury, making it tingle warmly.

Oh wow, I thought. Who needs a heat pack when you've got this...

"I'm sorry, angel," he said softly, "I should have wrapped that for you again before going to sleep last night."

Angel. There was that word again. The previous night was somewhat of a jumbled mess in my thoughts but I could have sworn he'd called me that several times while we... talked.

"Angel?" I asked quietly, curious about where that had come from.

There was a pause and then he shrugged behind my back.

"Does it bother you?" he asked cautiously, as if the sweet nickname would be offensive. It wasn't. It was just another unfamiliar thing for me – being close enough to anyone to earn not one, but two nicknames, especially one like angel. After all he'd learned about me the night before, he knew better than anyone that I certainly wasn't one. Angels were pure... and I wasn't.

He waited out the pause in conversation as I thought about it. Even though it wasn't an accurate description of me, I didn't think that mattered. Most nicknames weren't.

"No," I finally whispered as a reply. It didn't bother me. As a matter of fact, it made my heart feel warm from the inside out. The fact that he could still call me something like that after learning that I'd lied to my parents and landed myself in the position I'd been in with Travis because of my own mistakes– and then wound up being hesitant toward him because of it all – made my heart warm.

"Good," he whispered back before leaning down and placing a feather light kiss on the crown of my head.

I swallowed thickly as tears welled up in my eyes after that tiny little affectionate gesture.

He kissed me. Just the top of my head but... he kissed me.

I wasn't sure that he'd want to after what I'd told him last night. I wasn't sure that he'd want anything to do with me, actually. From what I knew of Seth I could say that he was calm, laid back, and uncomplicated. I had no idea what his reaction would be to dealing with someone who had so much baggage. I lived a simple life that centered around school, my art, my minimal dealings with my family and very few friends. But my past complicated things for me when it came to men... An amazing guy like Seth could pretty much date whoever he wanted to. It wouldn't have surprised me if he changed his mind about wanting to be with me.

As if answering my thoughts, Seth did seem to change his mind – right on the spot. He pulled away from me after that little kiss, shuffled backwards to put some distance between his chest and my back and cleared his throat as if he'd done something wrong.

Oh no... I thought as a seed of dread planted itself in my stomach right next to the seed of hope that was planted just seconds earlier when he'd kissed me. Maybe I was right. Maybe he had changed his mind and the kiss was just friendly, or meant to comfort me. It wouldn't have been out of character for him. We kissed a lot, in many different ways before he'd asked me to be his. So maybe he'd done it again even though he decided to change his mind about me. Really, what choice did he have but to help me out at this point? I'd all but barged in on him the night before, unloaded my hefty emotional baggage and fallen asleep, staying the night in his bed, uninvited.

"I'm sorry," I whispered frantically, ignoring the pain and stiffness in my shoulders and arms as I pushed at the covers of the bed with shaking hands, trying to free myself from them so I could get up, "I'm so sorry, Seth. I... I should go."

"Whoa," he said in surprise, "wait up, Liv. Take it easy. You've had a rough night." His arms let go of me, though so I could slide to the edge of the mattress and stand up. My legs protested loudly the second I tried to put pressure on them. They felt jelly-weak and sore to the bone as I slowly lifted myself up on to my feet. I sucked in a deep breath through my teeth and closed my eyes for a moment to adjust. I felt like a young animal learning to walk - unsteady and shaky on my own legs.

"Liv, just... wait, ok?" he asked cautiously, shuffling around on the bed behind me. "Let me help you."

I shook my head.

"I should go," I repeated quietly, not wanting him to feel obligated to take care of me for any longer than he already had. "But thank you," I whispered fervently. "Thank you for taking care of me last night. I... you don't have to..." I trailed off not knowing what else to say.

Tears of frustration brimmed, crested and fell onto my cheeks. I wiped them with shaking hands, another left over reaction from the panic attacks the night before, and moved to step forward. I felt like I wanted to crawl out of my own skin in embarrassment of what I'd admitted to him the night before and discomfort over having absolutely no clue how to relate to him today... afterward. I needed to go. I just... needed to go.

As I moved to step forward, long, warm fingers wrapped around my hips from behind, not holding me in place, just resting there, suggesting that I stay and not move.

"Olivia please," he said earnestly, "just wait."

I stopped and stood still, unable to ignore the light plea in his voice. I felt light pressure on my hips as his fingers worked to spin me around. When I was facing the bed again I found him sitting on the edge of the mattress, feet planted on the floor on either side of me, staring up at me with concern and confusion as I stood between his knees.

I found myself clasping my shaky hands together and staring at the black area rug beneath our feet, letting my hair fall down on either side of my face wishing it could hide me from his eyes instead of just the world around me.

"Hey," he said softly before lifting his hand toward my forehead and running his index finger along my right brow, down my cheek and over to my hair line. He brushed my hair behind my shoulder with that one, warm finger, much the same way he'd done it the night he asked me to be his. I shivered again like I did before, and then felt two fresh tears fall from my eyes as my heart jumped happily at the memory.

His finger found the bottom of my chin next and tilted my head up so that if I hadn't been staring at the rug I would have been looking directly into his eyes.

"Don't hide from me," he whispered.

I hiccoughed out a shaky sigh, and glanced up, unable to ignore his request after he'd done so much for me the night before. When I glanced up at him his jaw was set and he was frowning, but he was staring up at me with nothing but concern and care in his dark eyes.

"Don't get me wrong," he said cautiously, "but you're kind of all over the place today." I frowned and looked down again, knowing in my heart that he was right. My emotions were all over the map and I couldn't seem to get a hold of them. I was always kind of jumpy the day after a panic attack, especially without taking medication. And I'd had two major ones last night. It stood to reason that the after effects would be worse.

"I know," I whispered shakily as he tilted my head up again. "It's sort of normal... after."

He nodded and his frown deepened.

"Is the pain normal, too?" he asked quietly. "I can see how stiff you are..." he added, trailing off. He reached up to clasp my hands gently in his as I blinked at him in surprise. I was shocked that he noticed, then figured that I must have looked really awkward moving around.

He squeezed my hands very gently with his then set to work rubbing the backs of them with his thumbs like he always did. It was becoming such a comforting gesture to me and worked to calm me down better than almost anything else could at the moment. I took a few seconds just to focus on the warm tingling that his thumbs created on my skin as they passed over it in uneven circles. It was good to focus on something other than my shaky emotions. It grounded me a bit so that I could talk to him.

"A little," I said quietly in answer to his question. "It's not so bad if I take the medicine," I admitted, feeling awkward at discussing the fact that I used prescription anti-anxiety medication on occasion.

"Ok," he said decisively, as if the fact that I took prescription Xanax on occasion was completely normal. "Would it still help if you took it now?"

I nodded slowly, knowing that it would. Right after I'd been prescribed the medication I left it at home most of the time, not feeling all that comfortable carrying it around with me. It only took one embarrassingly public anxiety attack to convince me that I should carry it on me at all times. I'd had a panic attack at church when a man delivering flowers for a wedding a day early got upset with me for quietly suggesting that he not unload them and take them back to the florist that night so that they wouldn't wilt. He'd yelled at me and although several people came to my rescue as soon as they'd heard the noise, I still had an attack. The worst part about it was that the people coming to my rescue were involved in the wedding. They were having their rehearsal at the church for the next day and after getting rid of the floral delivery every single one of them stood around, watching me with confusion and concern as I gasped, shook and cried. My mother brought me up to my father's office as soon she could and I fell asleep there after I'd calmed down. I was woken up after my father finished the rehearsal and felt a bit like I did now – achy, tired, sore, shaky and anxious – all the way home. My mom told me to take the medicine once we got there. It helped me fall asleep and by the time I woke up the next day I was more stiff then achy or sore, and calm, not shaky or anxious in the slightest.

Seth nodded smiled up at me sadly. "Let's get you home then."

He stood up slowly, unfolding his tall frame right in front of me, smelling of chamomile and sandalwood, warmth emanating from his skin towards mine. I stood in front of him awkwardly, once again unsure of what to say or do.

"Come here," he murmured and pulled me in for a hug. As he wrapped his arms around my shoulders I buried my face in his chest, let my shaky hands rest on his waist and took a few deep breaths, suddenly feeling nervous about how to be close to him this way.

Does he think of me differently? I wondered to myself. I just couldn't help feeling that things would be different between us, and probably not in a good way. He was now officially aware that I had relationship issues. I was definitely not a relationship expert, but I knew that what I'd shared was bound to have an effect on things...

"Are you cold?" he asked, running his hands down my arms to grasp my shaking hands again before taking a step back.

I nodded because I was. From the second I'd pulled away from his warm body on the bed earlier and stood up, I felt like the temperature in the room had dropped about ten degrees.

"Here," he said and released one of my hands. He turned toward the dresser behind and to the right of him, pulled open a drawer, and grabbed a black hooded sweatshirt. He closed the drawer and turned back toward me holding it out.

I smiled lightly and took the soft sweater with me free hand, thanking him at the same time.

He squeezed my hand and let it go, leaving me to put the sweater on while he headed to the washroom to change and brush his teeth. He was very quick and was back in almost no time, smiling at me as I zipped the sweater up.

"Sorry about this," I said shyly, as he eyed the sleeves that I had rolled a few times at the cuff. The sweater was really big on me. It was probably even a bit loose on Seth. The bottom hem landed just above my knees and the sleeves hung down five or six inches past my fingertips. I'd had to roll them to use my hands.

He blinked once slowly and shook his head with a small smile.

"No worries," he said kindly and then chuckled a bit under his breath. I smiled at the sound of his soft laughter. I didn't like to see him as serious as he'd been last night and this morning. His light hearted side was one of the first things that drew me to him. It was so nice to be around someone as positive and easy-going as Seth.

He walked up to me slowly in his jeans and t shirt, stopping when he was close enough to clasp my uninjured hand. He looked me over again, up and down slowly with a small smile playing on his lips.

"It's huge on you..." he said eyeing the way his sweater hung down to my knees and shaking his head.

I nodded and smiled back shyly while shrugging my shoulders as much as the stiffness in my muscles would allow me to. He was right. It was practically a dress.

"But I like it," he finished, before winking at me and squeezing my hand. He chuckled again while I flushed with warmth over the little compliment, unsure of how to respond. As usual, I didn't need to because he'd already started walking us toward the stairs. When we reached the bottom of them I bent down slowly to put on my shoes. My thighs were so stiff and sore from the run the night before that they burned and protested every inch of the way. I felt like I'd run a marathon, which was sort of true. The distance from my dorm building to Seth's apartment was almost five miles long. Rather than try to stand up on sore and wooden legs while trying to get them on I picked up my shoes, turned a bit and slowly sat down on the second step, figuring it would be easier and less painful to do it that way.

"Your legs must be really sore, too, huh?" Seth said, eyeing my position on the stairs with a frown. His shoes were already on. Mine were going to take a little while, feeling as stiff and sore as I was.

I nodded with an apologetic shrug.

"Sorry. I'll just be a second," I mumbled as I dropped one shoe on the stair beside me and slowly started to lift my left leg to put the remaining shoe in my hand on. He surprised me by kneeling down, reaching out and catching my ankle in his broad hand.

"Here," he said, while reaching for my shoe with his other hand, "let me."

I blinked in shock as he quirked his lips up into a boyish smile and took my shoe without another thought, glance or word. That one small gesture – along with everything he'd done to support me the night before and calm me down this very morning – had warm tears welling up in my eyes and spilling over onto my cheeks. Every drop from my eyes was a warm - how did I get so lucky - or a - why me – nearly breaking my heart in the very best of ways. As I cried soundlessly, Seth finished lacing my shoe, gently set my left foot down and without a word, picked up the opposite one, slipped on my shoe and laced it, just like had the first one.

I felt like Cinderella – with sneakers instead of glass slippers. My life definitely wasn't a fairytale leading up to this point, but then Cinderella's beginnings hadn't been either, and she still managed to end up with her Prince Charming. As Seth glanced up at me and frowned at my tears, asking me if I was ok, I simply nodded and rose to my feet, all the while wondering how I'd managed to catch the eye of someone as wonderful, sweet and caring as Seth.

As we slowly made our way to the car, Seth following me on my sore and wooden legs, my next thought was of beautiful gowns turning to rags, coaches morphing back to pumpkins and a slave girl turned princess who almost lost her prince because he didn't really know who she was. I thought about Cinderella's midnight the entire ride back to my apartment. The engine of Seth's older but reliable Honda was the only sound filling the silence as he drove and I stared at my quivering hands as I held them together in my lap. I could see him casting sidelong concerned glances my way every couple of minutes or so, but I didn't return them because I was busy trying to work on my resolve. When midnight struck during Cinderella's fairytale, she was separated from the prince because she wasn't who he thought she was. He had to search an entire kingdom to find her, nearly missing her in the end. If she had been honest with him from the beginning about who she was the prince would never have allowed her to go back to her evil stepmother and there wouldn't have been a separation or a near miss at a chance at happily ever after.

I wasn't naive. I knew I wasn't living in a Walt Disney fairy tale, but I did believe in God and faith and destiny... and for some reason, after sharing the part of myself that I did with Seth the night before, it still felt like it was my midnight. Seth was the closest thing to a handsome Prince Charming that I'd ever met, and there he was just like the fairy tale version, choosing me, the largely ignored and overlooked plain and quiet girl, out of the crowd to be his. Last night he'd seen me in my rags and watched my would-be coach turn into a pumpkin, but he didn't know all of it – all of me, yet. I didn't have a wicked step-mother or snivelling step-sisters to deal with, but I did have a father who had very nearly disowned me and a mother who was torn between her commitments to her husband and her daughter. And if God was truly sending me a Prince Charming, then I had to have some faith that if Seth knew the truth about how my entire life had literally been turned upside down and inside out on the night that Travis hurt me... and during the weeks that followed... he wouldn't judge me for it the same way that others had. I had to believe that either way, if I was really destined to be with someone like him – for whatever amount of time – it would work out.

I'd spent three days mulling most of this over after he'd asked me to be his. I was weighing whether or not it was the right thing to tell him about me now, and risk him running for the hills because of it, or wait it out and see where things went.

I wanted him to know what he was getting into. I wanted him to know who I really was, deep down, so that we wouldn't have to deal with my awkward pauses and uncomfortable hesitancies over couches and intimacy. But I was afraid of what he might think. I was afraid of being judged for my mistakes... again. I was afraid that my mother was right – that I wasn't ready, that maybe I wouldn't ever be ready to make something like this work... but after the events of last night and this morning something was becoming very clear to me in both my heart and my mind.

If I was going to take a risk with my heart, my mind... my body... who better to do it with than with someone like Seth?

And in order to do that – he had to know it all. I had to be honest and straightforward with him and stop hesitating... and I just had to have faith that he wouldn't turn his back on me once he knew the entire truth. Even if it was something that I had trouble coming to terms with myself to this very day...

When we reached my building Seth parked and turned to face me, concern written all over his face, but true to his easy-going nature he stayed silent and didn't push me to talk about what I was thinking about. He didn't have to, though. I had made up my mind. I wanted him to know me – all of me. He deserved that, at the very least, for the incredible way he'd treated me and taken care of me.

"Will you come up with me?" I whispered shakily. I might have been resolved, but I was incredibly nervous about telling him the rest of my story and still feeling shaky from the after effects of the night before. His face seemed to relax in relief with my question, which made me feel even more resolved to get everything out in the open. I didn't like having to sort everything out in my head, keeping him out of loop as to where my feelings were coming from all the time. Once everything was laid out on the table... if he still wanted... wanted be with me... there wouldn't be anything more of that – and that was more than worth the risk.

"Yeah, I'll definitely come up," he said with a smile.

"Ok," I said and nodded resolutely.

We got out of the car and slowly walked up to the building's entrance hand in hand. When we got there I buzzed room three, where Wendy the dorm leader lived, hoping that she'd be home even though it was the first day of classes. We were in luck and after I'd identified myself and said I forgot my key she buzzed us in the main door and met us at the door to my apartment, not with the set of master keys like I'd expected, but with my own key – the one I'd left behind in my sweater pocket the night before. Sitting on the floor outside of my door was the basket full of laundry that I had taken downstairs to wash. An unmarked white envelope sat on top. As I picked up the envelope and slipped the flap open I realized that it could only be from one person, and after glancing at the brief note, my suspicions were confirmed.

Olivia,

I'm not really sure what went wrong downstairs, but I didn't mean to freak you out like that. You left your stuff behind, so I brought it up for you. Wendy has your key. It fell out of your sweater when I picked it up.

I hope everything's ok with you.

John

Wendy spoke as I finished reading the note and Seth glanced over at it with a small frown, no doubt because he saw who it was from.

"John brought this to me last night," she said about the key in her hands. "He said you left it behind in the laundry room," the level headed, third year brunette explained, "and that you were kind of upset when you left and probably didn't realize you'd forgotten it." She glanced at Seth with curious and slightly critical eyes, then down the hall towards the door to John's apartment. "Is everything ok?"

"I'm fine," I murmured, unable to keep the raspy tenor out of my voice, which was still pretty raw from the night before. She narrowed her eyes at me and smiled sympathetically before glancing at Seth briefly once again, and then back to me.

"This is Seth," I said quietly, gripping his hand a bit more tightly in mine, hopefully letting him know that I'd seen the way she was glancing at him and didn't want her placing the blame for my rough appearance after last night on him.

Her eyes flickered down toward our joined hands as I squeezed his, and lit up with some sort of understanding. She turned to face him with a polite smile.

"Hi Seth, I'm Wendy, also known as the dorm leader and resident mother hen around here," she said matter-of-factly.

"Hey. Nice to meet you," Seth said, reaching out his free hand to shake hers.

Their eyes met as they shook and I could see Wendy sizing him up as they did. As the dorm leader she was responsible for the general safety of all of the students who lived in the building. I didn't know her very well, but she seemed to take her job pretty seriously from the way that she was sizing up Seth as my visitor. I found myself feeling a bit safer for it, knowing that she'd probably size up any other guests she met in the halls exactly the same way. Seth didn't seem to mind either. He just smiled at her casually and let her make whatever judgements she needed to make her own opinion of things. Apparently asking questions either wasn't part of her routine or didn't seem necessary because when she let go of his hands she turned to face me with a small smile.

"Here you go," she said, holding my key out to me and dropping it in my palm when I held it up. "I'm going to head back downstairs. I've got class in twenty minutes."

"Ok," I said quietly. "Thank you."

She smiled. "No problem. It's part of the job description. You'd be surprised how many times people forget keys... usually at parties after a few too many." She rolled her eyes playfully as I nodded my head.

As she turned to leave I looked over toward Seth who was bending at my side to pick up the overflowing laundry basket on the floor. As he lifted it up easily with one arm and balanced it on his hip like it was nothing much to deal with at all, I was reminded once again, that despite how gentle he always was with me, he was actually pretty strong. I'd struggled with that basket the night before and had to stop twice on my way down the stairs to adjust its weight from one hip to the other so I wouldn't drop it.

He glanced down at the note and the keys that were in my hands and nodded at them in acknowledgment.

"It was nice if him to do this..." I said quietly, thinking about how I'd literally gone off on John the night before and knowing that he had every right to be upset enough not to want to help me with anything after that. I still didn't remember most of the details, but I knew that I had yelled at him and offended him about something... I shook my head as Seth grimaced and then nodded once in begrudging acceptance, before his eyes flickered over to the top part of the injury on my wrist, which was just barely visible where the rolled sleeve of Seth's black hooded sweater ended. His eyes flashed a bit with something hard behind them – something I'd never seen in them before. It wasn't difficult to figure out what the emotion was about. Nice gestures aside, John was not understood or forgiven for what had happened the night before.

I frowned and felt guilty as I lifted the key toward my apartment door. I needed to sort out what had happened with him and set the record straight. It wasn't right for Seth to be upset with him for something that was my fault and probably would have been entirely preventable if I wouldn't have done... whatever I did to offend him.

One thing at a time... my subconscious reminded me quietly. Oddly enough my inner voice had been pretty quiet all morning. Maybe it was because I was being very open and honest with myself and not hiding from my feelings as much as I usually did this morning...

Not hiding is a good thing...my subconscious added pointedly, instantly reminding me of why I had asked Seth to come up with me to my apartment in the first place. Right – time to finish what I had started last night.

I took a deep breath, and with shaky hands opened the door to my apartment as wide as it could go.

I was sore and tired and absolutely more nervous than I'd been to talk to anyone about anything since... well... since the very day I was about to talk about with Seth. As my shoulders sagged and I drew in a very deep and uneven breath around my stomach and heart that were jumping around with nerves Seth stepped in behind me, slipped the doorknob from my hand into his and swung it shut gently behind us. I heard the basket in his free arm being placed on the floor as my eyes filled up with tears yet again, this time from nerves.

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this... I told myself repeatedly, as the weight of what I was about to do was pressing on me like lead weights on my shoulders. Seth stepped into my blurry line of vision just as the tears threatened to fall. But I wouldn't let them this time. If I was going to do this I knew I needed to be strong to get through it.

"Hey," Seth breathed as he caught sight of my teary eyes and what was no doubt a very strained expression on my face. "What can I do?"

I shook my head and squeezed his hand in mine.

"Nothing," I murmured as I let go of my grip on his hands and let his long fingers slide out from between mine. "I just... I need to go get... my medicine," I choked out.

All of it, I added silently.

Next chapter will begin in OPOV.

Until then... anyone have a theory they'd like to share? You know I'd love to hear them :-)

~Hitchy