"Ah," Kate hissed.

"Sorry," Frank replied. He was applying treatment to her burns, which he was fortunate to find in the house. Looking at them made him furious and sick all over again.

They were in the bathroom of the abandoned house. She was sitting on the edge of the tub while he worked. Aside from the psychological part of everything she'd endured, Kate was doing okay. She had scrubbed off the blood and dirt with the minimal water that was available.

"Do you think the owners are going to come back?" she asked.

"That fridge hasn't run in a long time," Frank answered. "So I doubt it."

He had checked the place out. It appeared to be uninhabited for at least a month, maybe more.

"I get it now," she said quietly as he worked.

"Get what?"

"I never want to see a cigarette ever again."

Frank made a noise in his throat in response. He didn't know what to say anyway. It was all he could do to keep himself from picturing his foster mother fixing up his burns while scolding him for pissing off her husband. It made him angry all over again thinking about his real parents dying and getting stuck with those terrible people.

"When did it happen to you?" she asked, looking at him. He paused, unsure of whether or not he wanted to tell her. He disliked talking about his childhood.

"A long time ago," he answered finally, vaguely.

"What are the odds that we have the same scars?" she went on.

"Lots of people have it happen to them around the world in one way or another," Frank said. "We're not the only lucky ones."

"I'm guessing by the way they're sort of faded, it happened when you were a teenager. Younger maybe," she mused.

"Don't," he said abruptly, making her look at him again.

"By that tone, I'll assume I'm right," she acknowledged.

"I said don't," he said again, more sharply this time. He finished and stepped away from her, needing to breathe.

"Forgive me for trying to relate to someone who knows the pain I'm feeling right now," Kate said, pulling her shirt sleeve down and standing up. She went to leave when he grabbed her hand and stopped her.

"Just be satisfied that I know the pain you're feeling. You don't need the story," he assured her. "Trust me."

"I'm sorry someone hurt you that way," she said quietly. He said nothing as he released her hand, and she walked away without another word.

...

Kate's nightmares that night were ten times worse than before. Frank could only listen to it for so long before he went to the room she was sleeping in and crawled in behind her. Once his arms were around her, she stopped thrashing. He felt her calm immediately. Then she started to cry.

"Kate," he said, shaking her a little. "Kate, you're okay."

She awoke with a gasp and sat upright fast. Then she jerked back a little in fright after noticing Frank was there.

"Geez, Frank," she said, unsettled. "You scared me."

"I was trying to stop you from nightmaring."

"That bad?"

"Yea."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he said. "I wouldn't expect any less."

Kate sighed and fell down onto her back. Frank stayed on his side, watching her.

"I can go," he started.

"No," she said quickly, grabbing his hand. "Stay. Please."

"Okay," he nodded. She loosened her grip on his hand, but she didn't let go. He knew she was still awake, even though she wasn't saying anything.

"Do you ever feel like you just can't breathe?" she asked quietly.

"Most of the time," he answered. It was true. He couldn't explain why it was happening, but ever since Valentina had left him, he would feel that way more often.

"I just...I can't breathe," Kate said, starting to gasp. Frank moved so that he was right next to her, and he put his hand on her upper chest. She grasped it with her hand instantly.

"You can," he promised. "It's just panic you're feeling. Try to relax."

"I can't," she started to cry, still gasping for air. He took her face in his hands and rested his forehead against hers.

"You can," he said again. "In through your nose slowly."

She obeyed, and it was shaky.

"Now, out your mouth slowly."

She did so, and he told her to repeat it again and again. After the tenth or fifteenth time, she grew calmer.

"See? You can," he smiled in the dark.

"Thank you," she said. Now that she wasn't panicking, she realized how close he was to her. If she wanted to, she could move an inch and kiss him. The fact that she wanted to was a surprise. He usually annoyed her.

What surprised her even more was when he released her face, said "you're welcome," and kissed her forehead softly before moving to settle on his back beside her, taking her hand back in his.

"I'm right here if you need me," he promised.

Kate knew he wasn't lying. She fell asleep still holding his hand.

...

Frank woke up to find Kate gone. He lifted his head, bleary eyed, scanning the room for her and listening hard. When he heard nothing, he grew worried and started to get out of bed to go look for her, grabbing his gun from the nightstand as he went.

"Kate?" he called, walking around and searching. His mind jumped to all sorts of possibilities that would explain what happened to her. None of them were good.

"Kate!"

He reached the front door and opened it, gun in front of him. His eyes found Kate sitting on the ground hugging her knees a little ways from the house. She was watching the sun come up. He lowered the gun, feeling his body start to relax from his fight or flight mode. He walked towards her.

"It's funny," she started upon hearing him approach. "We always take the simplest things for granted until we realize how close we came to never doing something as simple as watching a sunrise again."

Frank sat down beside her, pulling his knees up and resting his arms on them.

"Everything gets put into perspective," he agreed.

"I've put everything that happened yesterday inside of a box in my mind," she went on. "I have locked it up and put it away on a shelf that's high out of reach. I will open it again when I'm ready to deal with it."

Frank said nothing as he listened. She was detailing his way of living almost.

"I've never wanted to hurt somebody so badly in my entire life," she finished, looking at Frank now.

"Don't let revenge change who you are," he commented.

"Are you speaking from experience?"

"I've just seen it change too many people," he replied.

They sat in silence for a while, and then Kate surprised him again by telling him something personal about herself.

"I hate jazz because my step-father played it all the time, especially when he beat me," Kate said.

Frank felt that feeling inside again, the one that indicated he wanted to keep her safe from any and all harm.

"I won't play it again," he promised.

"Thank you."

Frank hesitated. He knew that if he didn't offer back something about himself, he was telling her he wasn't interested in bonding, and that was clearly what she was trying to do right now with him. He chewed on his lip for a moment before making up his mind.

"I still don't know, to this day, what I did wrong to make my foster dad so angry at me," he said slowly. "But he backhanded me and then burned his cigarette into my arm a few times to teach me a lesson. I was nine."

"Oh my God, Frank," Kate said, sounding anguished.

"I don't let people in," he went on, looking at her. "If I don't, then I don't get hurt. I made that mistake once, and I'll never do it again."

"That's a really lonely life, though," she pointed out.

"It's the only life I've known," he said. "I'm fine with it."

"I don't see how you can be," she started, but he held up his hand to stop her.

"I was fine with it until I met you," he continued. "I don't know why, but there's this part of me that wants to let you in and show you who I really am, but I'm afraid to. I gave my heart and soul to someone not that long ago, and they left me. I can't take that kind of hurt again."

Kate wiped at the tear that fell from her eye now, and she said nothing while waiting for him to continue.

"Yesterday was terrible," Frank said. "I failed you, and I don't take that lightly."

"You didn't fail me," she assured him. "You got me out of there."

"But not before you went through what you did," he said impatiently. "I should have prevented that."

"You're not a superhero, Frank," Kate reminded him. "You're only human."

"I'm sorry," he said firmly. She reached to take his hand then, squeezing it.

"You don't have to be," she replied. "But I do appreciate that you care about me. I find myself caring about you too, even though you frustrate me and annoy me so much."

He gave a snort of laughter, and she started to laugh too. She moved to tap his hand in hers on his knee, and he looked at her and realized again that there was a tug on his heart every time he met her eyes.

"I mean it, Frank," she said softly. "And I've got your back."

He smiled slowly, realizing this might be the first time he had someone accompanying him that was actually trained for combat. It was rather useful.

"He is Fernando Alarcon," she said after a moment. "Fausto's brother. He wants Alejandro because that's who killed Fausto."

"I see."

"I don't see how this will end. I'm tempted to just disappear into the world and never come back," she sighed. "But I feel I owe it to Alejandro to tell him Fernando has his daughter, if it is his daughter. I don't know. I'm so confused."

"We'll figure it out," Frank promised, giving her hand one last squeeze before releasing it and getting to his feet. She stood up and followed him back to the house.

Now they just had to find a phone.

...

Fernando Alarcon was willing to comb all of Mexico until he found Frank Martin and Kate Macer. He was incredibly angry that they had escaped. They were like cats with nine lives, and it was getting annoying. What else was annoying was Alejandro Gillick trying to murder him and getting away again. Fernando was feeling a lot of anger, and if he didn't release it soon, bad things would happen to the girl in the basement. Then Alejandro would really be sorry.

...

There was no phone in the house. She wondered why this house was abandoned and where the previous owners went. She tried not to think that something bad had happened to them. Eventually, Frank declared he had to deal with his bullet wound and pulled off his shirt before he started digging around the first aid kit.

She stood there watching him and felt something inside of her that took her by surprise. He eventually sensed her looking and met her gaze. He didn't say anything, but she didn't think he had to. Something was in the air at this point, and she found herself walking towards him slowly.

"Let me," she said, gesturing to his bandage job he'd started. After a pause, he gave in and let her take over. She worked carefully, and he never took his gaze away from her face as she did. Once she finished, she smoothed over it with her hand and looked at him.

"Better?" she asked.

"Yea," he answered. She gave him a small smile, and he moved forward to close the gap between them and press his lips against hers gently and briefly, pulling back again after five seconds. He opened his eyes to see her looking at him. There was no surprise in her gaze.

"Frank," she whispered.

"I'm sorry," he said. "That was really forward of me..."

She moved to kiss him again, cutting him off. He hesitantly reached to put his hands on her waist, and she wrapped her arms up behind his back and held onto his shoulders. He hadn't been imagining it; she felt it too. He allowed himself to get lost in her for a moment before catching himself.

"What's wrong?" she asked when he pulled back again.

"I...I don't know," he answered.

"I have no intention of hurting you, Frank," she told him, pressing her fingers into his skin. "Just know that." She had no idea what would happen to either of them. If this ever ended, what would happen to them? Would they continue seeing each other? She hadn't given it much thought.

"It's not you," he said. "It's me."

She saw his pained expression and knew it was probably for the best if they didn't push forward. She nodded slowly and let him go.

"It's okay," she said. She felt slightly embarrassed. Had she really just kissed him? Was she really thinking of going farther than that with him after what he'd told her about being afraid to let her in?

"Kate," he said, taking her face in his hands suddenly. "I really care about you, and I don't want to do anything until I'm in a good place. I don't want to hurt you either. It's not that I don't want to because I want to. I just want to be sure."

Kate felt the warmth inside spread. He was looking at her so intensely that she knew he meant it.

"I appreciate that," she said. "I think we should go now, then."

"All right." He released her reluctantly and went to put his shirt back on. Within moments they were out to the car and driving away. Neither of them looked back.