When Kevin left the bathroom after a few minutes. He was going to go into Marv's room to sleep on the pull out, just to avoid Harry, but he was stopped before he could even open the door.

"Hey!" Harry called out. He was standing by the television. At the very sight of him, Kevin's cut on his face seem to intensify. "Where do you think you're going? Marv is sleeping."

"I was… just going…" Kevin was afraid to talk to him, barely able to finish his sentence, "to sleep."

"It's seven o'clock," Harry said.

"But-"

"Don't argue with me, you've already done enough today," Harry growled, "Come here."

Kevin wasn't sure what he was going to do. Kevin went over, as Harry stepped aside from blocking the television, "Do you see all this shit? All this news? It's because of you."

Kevin hoped that this would be a lead for his family. He couldn't stay with them like this anymore. As Kevin searched for an acceptable answer, panicking as the seconds passed. He was afraid if he didn't answer in time, Harry would hit him.

Instead, Harry said, "Why are you holding a cloth to your face like that?"

Kevin shivered, "You… hit me. With the gun."

"Please," Harry said, his tone annoyed, "I just brushed you with the gun. It was nothing."

Kevin removed the wet cloth from his face, revealing the deep and bloody cut. Harry cringed, "Jesus, cover that up."

"I need a bandage," Kevin stated.

"What you need is something more," Kevin noticed that Harry was kind of slurring his words. The man pointed to the couch, "Go sit."

When Kevin made no movement, Harry aggressively took his shoulder and pushed him to the furniture. Frightened all over again, Kevin went and sat on the couch. He curled up, starting to silently cry again. Harry went into the kitchen, pulling a box from an obscurely placed cabinet. Kevin saw him turn his back, taking a drink of something.

Harry came back with a first aid kit, and a bottle of Jack Daniels. He opened the kit, taking out a needle and thread. Kevin stared in horror. Was he actually going to attempt to stitch his wound, while drunk?

"Harry," Kevin started, while eyeing the needle he picked up, "I'm sorry – I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to get you guys in trouble, I just wanted to go back to my family."

"I don't give a fuck what you meant," Harry said as he tied a thread through the needles loop, "Fact of the matter is, people are around here looking for us. It's your fault. You should be thanking me for taking care of you."

Kevin inched away, "Just… do it tomorrow."

Harry grabbed a hold of Kevin's wrist, bringing him towards him. Kevin struggled, "Please, don't!"

"Oh, come on, it's just a couple pokes and tugs and it will be alright," Harry smirked.

"But, you're drunk," Kevin pointed out.

"Excuse me?" Harry said in that eerie calm voice he used when he became angry. Kevin took his wrist back, "What did you say?"

"I-I mean… you can't do things pr-properly if you're…"

"How dare you call me a drunk!" Harry yelled. Kevin ran as fast as he could out of the room. He tried Marv's door, but it was locked from the inside. Why was it locked? With Harry right behind him, Kevin rushed to the room closest to Marv's. It was Harry's bedroom. He ran in, and locked the door just in time.

Harry didn't bang on the door. He tried the knob, but it held stiff. Even in his intoxicated state, he knew it would be rude to cause more noise if Marv hadn't already woken up. His partner had been driving since noon. Harry said through the door, "You better open up, kid, I'm serious."

"You'll hit me again," Kevin said.

"I'm not… going to do… anything," Harry said, like fragments, "Except maybe correct you. I ain't an alcoholic, okay?"

Kevin didn't trust him. Harry continued, "It really hurt me when you said I was a drunk. I'm not at all!"

He refused to believe it. He knew Harry was drunk, but his moods at the moment were ranging from delirious to mad to sensitive. No way in hell was he going to open the door, and there was no way Harry was going to break down the door to his own bedroom.

"Open the damn door," Harry said.

Kevin didn't say anything.

"Kevin," Harry hissed, "Are you there?"

"Go away," Kevin said, shaking. He knew Harry would eventually find a way to open the door, and when he did, he would be in trouble for locking himself in the room. He wanted his cut to be fixed, but not by Harry who didn't know what he was doing and in an inebriated state.

"Oh, what's wrong?" Harry said, faking concern, "Did I scare you? I just wanted to fix the cut that I caused," Harry tried the knob again, "Come unlock the door now. I promise I won't hurt you."

Kevin spoke up, "You're lying."

"I'm not," Harry said. He spoke the same way he did when he first came to his house, cheerfully knocking on the kitchen door. Kevin remembered how scared he was then, and how he was scared now, "It's alright. Just one little turn of the lock will do it."

Kevin didn't answer.

"I'm going to count to three, and if the door isn't open at three, then we'll have a problem."

"No, no, I'm sorry," Kevin back peddled.

"One," Harry started.

"Stop it," Kevin said, nervous. It was either open the door to Harry, or get the door busted down by Harry. He didn't want to choose either.

"Two," Harry said.

"I'm sorry," Kevin said, "Please, stop it."

It was filling Kevin with dread as he paused between takes. He was really going to be killed, or at least he thought so. The incident at the lake scared him enough to take the men seriously. Harry said, "Two and a half."

Kevin retreated from the door, hiding in Harry's closet. He took a box, moved it back and hid behind that and under some coats. Although muffled, Kevin could hear something said. He assumed it was the word, "Three."

Kevin held his breath.