Lee was sore as shit.

The job was easy, but when jobs are easy, it gets a whole lot more likely somebody will get hurt. When you don't take something seriously, a big guy rounding the corner with steel-toed boots suddenly becomes the same as an army with a host of machine guns. Lee has cushioned the blow from the boots with his ribs, felt them crack, and then knocked his head a bit before he could reach for a knife and take the guy down.

He turned down Barney's offer for a ride just for the sake of getting home. It was just passed midnight and it felt like it had been weeks since he was there, even though it had only been about a day and a half. He pulled the bike to a stop in his driveway and winced, holding onto his ribs as he pulled his leg over the seat. His head was pounding so hard he could feel his heartbeat just behind his eyes. It was making him dizzy.

"Hey, Lee!" Sammy called from her car, clad in her black work uniform, her hair a frizzy halo around her head.

"Hey, Sammy," he said, grunting as he moved. It was nice to see her. It almost made all the ugly shit he saw in the field worth it if beautiful people like Sammy would never have to see any of it.

"You alright?" She asked, furrowing her brows, concerned. She moved around her car and propped her purse around her shoulder, fanning herself with one hand. It had gone back to being hot and humid in the day he had gone. The stars were covered by a layer of grey clouds and condensation stuck to the dying blades of grass between them.

"Rough day," he said, nodding.

"Wanna come around for a drink?" She asked, stepping forward and squinting to try and see him a bit more clearly. "I picked up some beer while you were away."

"I thought you didn't really drink beer," he said, grunting as he stored his helmet away and pulled his pack over his good shoulder.

"I don't, that's why I need you to come and drink it," she said with a smile. "I know you put the money back in my purse. Let me at least give you a drink."

He sighed, limping over the dried out garden between their houses. Her happy expression started to fade as she noticed his pain.

"I'm fine," he said quickly, shaking his head. "Just-"

Sammy shook her head and looked him over, noticing the bruise along the side of his face. "The more I learn about you, the more suspicious I am that you really are James Bond," she said.

He chuckled. "I never said I wasn't."

"Do you want something? Pain meds, ice?"

He felt strange having somebody that wasn't one of the guys worry for him. It'd been a long time since he'd come home and found somebody that wanted to help him.

"Here, come with me," she said, noticing his hesitation. "Did you just get back?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, watching as she fiddled with her keychain and pulled out the key to the front screen door. He smiled to himself, glad he had stepped up and done it.

"Where'd business take you this time, if it's not top secret, Mr. Bond?" She joked, stepping aside so he could squeeze through the door after her. She closed and locked it, kicking off her boots before she went for the kitchen.

"Mexico," he said, placing his bag down on one of the stools tucked under the island. The movement of his arms hurt him, but he tried to suck it up so she didn't worry too much.

"I have ibuprofen," she said. "I don't know if that's what you prefer, but-"

"It'll do," he said, unzipping his leather jacket and hanging it over the chair where he had placed his bag. He winced, catching her attention.

"I hear Mexico has some beautiful beaches," she said, dropping her voice as she pulled a beer from the fridge and handed it to him along with a couple small pills. "Do any sight seeing?"

He took them from her and studied her. He didn't want to scare her away or drag her into anything, but something in his gut prompted honesty.

"Didn't have much time, was only there for less than a day," he said.

"Shame," she said, opening the freezer and pulling out a frozen pack of peas. "What hurts the most?"

He bit his lips and watched her for a second. His head, on the surface at least, didn't hurt much at all. His ribs were killing him. His fists were a little sore too, bruised but not split. The gash over his eye was well on its way to healed.

"I won't bite," she said, placing the peas down on the island and sliding them over to him. "Are you hungry?"

He took the peas and tucked them under his arm, grunting as he made contact with the broken ribs.

"I'm alright for now," he said, the thought of eating sending a pang nausea through him.

"They broken?" She asked, taking him by surprise.

"I think so," he said with a sigh, "look, I don't mean to-"

"It's okay," she said, walking around the island and pressing her lips into a kind, gentle smile, "my mom was an army nurse before she met my dad. She taught me some tricks."

He looked down, laughing a little bit. "It's alright, Sammy. I've done this before."

She frowned, crossing her arms and catching his attention. "You're definitely James Bond," she huffed, turning to the stove to put the kettle on.

Lee sipped his beer and tried to take deep breaths. The pain killers were kicking in, mostly numbing the headache, and he realized he just wanted to lay down and rest.

Sammy was facing away from him and pulling out a clean mug for her tea, the kettle heating up above the fire on the stove. Her uniform was dirtied and stretched out, her hair greasy at the roots and messy.

"Is there anything else you need?" Sammy asked, feeling him watching her. She tried to make herself busy, embarrassed under the weight of his gaze. She felt crumby- it had been another bad night at work, drunk guys getting handsy and her boss breathing down her neck, not to mention the fact that her check-engine light had been when she got in the car to leave. She didn't have the time, patience, or money to deal with it, so she just hoped and prayed she wouldn't breakdown.

"I'm okay," Lee said, looking down at his hands on the counter. "Thank you, Sammy."

She turned around and watched him, her eyes boring into him now instead. "A favor for a favor for a favor," she said.

"It's never-ending, huh?" He joked.

"You look exhausted," she said with a frown as the kettle started to whistle. She turned around and turned off the stove, pouring the water into her mug to let the tea steep.

"I am," he said, triggering a yawn. "But it's nice to see you after a crappy day."

She smiled, dripping some honey into her tea with a little bit of milk. She pulled it close to her chest and turned back to him. "It's nice to see you after a crappy day, too."

"I'm starting to think everyday is crappy at Rico's," he frowned.

She shrugged, "it's a low-paying job at some local dive where truckers and deadbeats like to hang out. Crappy is written into the job description. I knew what I was getting into, though."

"How are things at home?" He asked, sipping his beer and thinking back to the medical bills he had seen.

She shrugged, "same old. How're things at the tattoo shop?"

"Same old," he said with a smile.

"You can stay here if you want to," she said, placing the steaming mug down on the counter. "But no pressure if you aren't feeling great. And you can keep those peas. I'm just gonna clean up real fast."

Lee nodded and watched her go. He shifted the peas off of his ribs and sighed, running his fingers along the tender spot. It wasn't the worst he had ever broken them, but it certainly wasn't the best. He cursed himself for letting his guard down in Mexico, which lead to this, because in truth he longed to stay. He wouldn't have minded waiting around until she fell asleep again so he could carry her to bed. It was something he had thought about a lot while he was away.

He glanced around. If he didn't want to go, then why should he? Pain or not, he didn't have a job to run off to in the morning, so he could be miserable then. He took the beer from the counter and put the peas back over his ribs, heading over to the living room to settle down on the couch.

She came back out from her bedroom in shorts and another long-sleeve shirt, grabbing her tea and looking around for him. She spotted him resting on the couch, his head tilted back and eyes shut, one hand pressed against the peas to keep them in place. She smiled, secretly pleased he had decided not to leave just yet. She made her way over and sat down carefully beside him, catching his attention.

"TV?" She asked, holding up the remote.

"I like the quiet right now," he said, "if you don't mind."

"Of course," she said, sitting back and letting the steam from the tea wash over her face. He glanced down at her, at the bags under eyes, as her eyelashes curled and soft, at the point of her nose just over the edge of her mug. She looked up and caught him staring and smiled.

"Yes?" She asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Sorry," he said, clearing his throat and shifting his weight and the peas.

"It's okay," she said with a laugh, turning herself so she was facing him. "Can I see?"

He raised his eyebrows, confused. "See what?"

She motioned to the peas, her lips twisted in pain. "Your ribs."

He grunted, adjusting himself so that he could pull the side of his shirt up enough so she could get a good look at the bruise that ran along his side. The peaks of his ribs were mostly pale, the the spaces between them darkened. There were some spots that were worse than others, with little dark purple dots littered throughout the bruise. She sighed, drawing in a crisp, painful breath.

"We might need some more peas," she said finally, and he let his shirt down and covered the spot with the peas again.

He chuckled, sitting back and closing his eyes. "It's alright. I'll be fine."

"It might hurt more tomorrow," she said, worried. "You can text if you need anything, you know."

"I know," he said.

"Good."

They sat in quiet for a few minutes. Lee didn't mind- it did wonders for the pounding behind his eyes. He wondered if he had a concussion, but shook the thought. He didn't want to deal with that.

Sammy watched him for a minute, sad and concerned. He had been so kind to her, yet there he was sitting in pain, and she didn't know how she could possibly make it any better. Ice, light stretching, moving around- all of that Lee could do himself. He didn't need her help. She wished there was more she could do, if only to show him how grateful she was for his help. She drew in a breath to speak but stopped as she noticed his head lulling to the side, his grip on the peas softening. He was falling asleep.

It really must have been a crappy day.

She slid the peas out from under his hand and took the beer to the fridge. The least she could do was just let him rest. She hurried into her bedroom and pulled a blanket off of her bed, an old one she had brought with her from home. She brought it over to the couch and rested it over him, making him stir. She hesitated, nervous she had woken him.

He was sitting mostly upright and he looked a bit uncomfortable. She crossed her arms as she looked down at him, wondering just how hard it was to pick up a grown man. She shook her head, resigning herself to the way things were and turned to head to the bedroom. She sunk into her bed and stared up at the ceiling, wondering how long it would be before Lee woke up and left.

—-

She woke the next morning peacefully. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she had actually rested while she slept. She yawned and pulled herself up, squinting at the sunlight that flitted through the blinds drawn over her window. She checked the time: 10:00. She had gotten a pretty good nights worth of rest for the first time in a long time.

She pulled herself out of bed and headed towards the kitchen, but she hesitated when she noticed Lee's things were still resting on the stool under the island. She glanced over at the couch, and he was asleep on his back, his head tilted in towards the cushion. He hadn't left.

She felt warm at the thought and continued to the kitchen, pulling out some eggs she had bought when she stopped for the beer. She figured she should have some groceries around her house in case anybody ever stopped by, and she was glad she had done it. She pulled out a pan and turned the stove on.

When she had finished making breakfast, Lee was still asleep. She smiled to herself and took both of the plates she made over to the living room, setting them on the coffee table before she sat carefully down beside his legs. She ran her knuckles over his cheek, trying not to startle him awake.

"Hey, Lee," she said, voice low, almost a whisper. "Lee-ee."

He stirred, drawing in a breath that made his ribs sting. He didn't open his eyes.

"Psst," she said, lowering herself slightly as she ran her knuckle along his cheek. "Lee."

He peeled his eyes open, blinking them against the bright sunlight that spilled over the room. He was confused and sore.

He turned his head and saw Sammy leaning over him, smiling down at him, her hair in a messy bun atop her head.

"Good morning, Mr. Bond," she said in a mock-British accent. "Breakfast is served."

He furrowed his brows. Breakfast? Did he sleep here?

"It's okay," she said, noticing his confusion. "Don't hurt yourself. You fell asleep. I didn't want to bother you, and since I'm small and you're big I didn't think carrying you home would work out well. You stayed on the couch."

He nodded, slowly propping himself up. He saw the breakfast waiting on the coffee table and turned to her.

"You didn't have to," he said. "You could've kicked me out."

"But I didn't," she chuckled, picking up her own plate and beginning to eat. "I did something kind for you, for a change."

"You've done plenty," he said with a groan, rubbing his eyes and pulling his legs to the floor. He reached for his food and drew in a breath. His ribs were extra tender this morning.

"A hot bath might help," she said, clicking on the TV but keeping the volume low. "When I'm sore, that usually does the trick."

"I don't usually take baths," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"You should try," she teased. "Don't be so fragile."

After a second he laughed, sitting back with the plate on his lap. "Thank you," he said.

"Don't mention it," she said. "I love playing hostess."

He finished his breakfast with a smile and stood, offering to take her plate. She stood with him and snatched his plate instead, bringing it over to the sink as he followed behind.

"Do you have work today?" He asked.

"Starts at noon," she said. "I picked up a late shift, too. I'll be there till one am."

"That's rough," Lee said, leaning on the island, watching as she cleaned. "Maybe I'll wait around for you to get home. Make sure you use that lock I installed."

She couldn't help but smile. "I'd like that," she said.

"I'll see you later then," he said, making his way around the counter to take his things. "Thank you again."

"Of course," she said, turning to smile at him. "See you later."

He headed out with a smile on his face. He felt like a big old idiot for it, but he couldn't make it go away. Despite the pain he was feeling, he was also happy, and he was excited to wait up for Sammy to get home that night.

—-

Sammy had forgotten that her check-engine light had turned on by the time she was ready to leave work that night. It was almost one am, she was irritated and tired, and she let out a loud groan as her car coughed and stalled on the drive back home. She slammed her head down onto the wheel and felt tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. She didn't want to cry. She could figure this out. Maybe she could fix it herself, or maybe-

Thunder cracked in the sky. After a few seconds, a few drops of rain splashed on her windows, steadily growing in speed.

"Of course," she said, dropping her head down again. She had plenty of gas, and it couldn't be her battery. She could get out of the car and look under the hood, but what did she think she'd see? A big sign that told her exactly what was wrong? She didn't know how to fix cars. She turned the key in the engine and tried to restart it, but it sputtered and croaked before it turned off completely and left her sitting along the dark road. She wasn't far from home- she could probably walk, maybe call a tow truck on her way. She pulled out her phone and before she knew what she was doing, she had pressed Lee's number.

He was sitting out on his porch, protected from the rain as it began to fall. He lifted his phone to his ear. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," she said, drawing in a breath.

"Is everything alright?" He asked.

She sighed, biting back her tears. "No, um, my car broke down," she said, looking up to try and keep the tears in place. "I'm really not far from home. I hate to ask, but it's starting to rain, and-"

"Where are you?" He asked softly, pulling out his keys and heading for his bike. "I'll swing by and grab you."

She let out a sigh of relief. Of course he would, because he was the best person she had met since she moved to New Orleans.

"I'm off Hamilton, not far from that stop sign with the sticker on it. You know, the one that's says 'don't do school stay in drugs'?"

He chuckled. "I know the one. I'll be there in a minute."

The line went dead and she gathered up her things, sniffing hard as she tried to compose herself. Lee was coming. He'd be there soon.

After a couple minutes she heard his bike approaching. It was starting to rain a little harder, the thunder and lightning fighting in the sky. She pulled herself out of her car and hurried to where he was stopping. He pulled his helmet off and handed it to her.

"Don't you need this?" She asked.

"Have you ever been on one of these before?" He asked back.

She pressed her lips into a straight line and he smiled, motioning for her to climb on the back. She pulled the helmet over her head and closed the visor. It smelled like Lee. The thought made her happy.

She gripped his waist as he took off speeding down the road, holding onto him for dear life as the raindrops bounced against them and the road flew by under their feet. Before she knew it they were in her driveway, soaking wet.

"Shit, Lee, I'm sorry-" she tried, pulling the helmet off. He just grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up to her porch, out of the way of the rain. He shook the water off his face and laughed.

"It's alright," he said, looking down at her. "What happened to your car?"

"Check engine light turned on yesterday, didn't have time to get it looked at," she said. He also knew that she probably meant money to spare.

"I could've taken a look," he said. "I do some mechanical stuff in my down time-"

"You've done enough for me," she said.

"Will you just unlock the door before we drown out here," he said, motioning to the screen. Her eyes widened and she nodded, fumbling with her keys as she let them in. Once the door was open Lee pushed them both in, shivering from the cold rain.

"Damn," he said. "That storm picked up fast."

"It did," Sammy said, confused. "You feeling better?"

"Much," he said, pulling off his coat and shoes. "I don't wanna drag any mud inside."

She smiled, doing the same. She dropped the wet jackets near the door and made her way into the kitchen.

"Beer?" She asked.

"I'm good," he said.

"Really?"

"Yeah, had a few bottles already," he said, glancing out the window as the rain poured down hard. "I need to go cover the bike."

He hurried out the front door and Sammy watched him go. Usually he was much more quiet- she figured it had something to do with the drinks he said he'd had. She worried idly if he should've driven to get her, but brushed the thought from her mind because they were both home and safe.

She pulled her hair out of its ponytail and wrung it out, shivering as a few stray drops rolled down her neck. She felt like a wet dog.

A few minutes later Lee hurried back in, shedding his shoes again by the door. When he found his way to the kitchen, his shirt was drenched and raindrops collected on his face. He stopped at the counter and looked at Sammy, her hair long and falling in wet tufts over her back.

"Oh, Jesus, Lee," she said, turning to look him over. "Let me get you a towel."

He watched as she scurried by him, her socks muffling the pitter patter of her feet against the old dark wooden floor. She hurried out of the bathroom with a clean towel in hand and threw it over to him, chuckling as he caught it with his face.

"How are your ribs?" She asked, starting up the kettle.

"A bit better now. I think the worst has passed," he said, running the towel along his head.

"That's good! I'm gonna go change out these wet clothes, but I'll be back."

He nodded, taking the opportunity to pull his shirt over his head and let it flop over the edge of his seat. He ran the towel over his stomach and more carefully over his ribs before he wrapped it around his shoulders. The kettle started to whistle so he glanced behind him but saw that she was still in her room. He walked around the island and turned off the stove, grabbing the kettle and deciding he'd teach her how to have tea the proper way.

Sammy dropped the clothes in the corner of her room and sighed, rolling out her wrist. What had made this day horrible before it had gotten worse was that fucker down at the bar that never took no for an answer. He'd been kicked out a few times before, but today he had stumbled upon Sammy as she leaving the bathroom. She went to walk by him, eager to get back to her spot behind the bar and mix some drinks and mind her own business. As she moved passed him he reached out and snatched her wrist, holding it so tight she worried her hand might just pop off her arm. She turned to him, shot him a look, and he smiled.

"What's the matter, baby?" He had asked, voice thick with that New Orleans accent and alcohol.

"Nothings wrong with me, but there's gonna be a whole lot wrong with you if you don't let me go," she'd said.

He laughed. He was stumbling over himself and yanked her towards him, snapping something in her wrist. The pain did not sit well with Sammy, and she stomped down on his foot and his vice grip eased up enough for her to pull herself free. She told one of the guys in the kitchen what had happened and they kicked him out.

She was standing in her bra and underwear in her room, massaging her wrist as she thought about it. She heard the teapot begin to whistle and snapped back to reality, pulling out some shorts and another baggy long sleeve shirt.

"Lee, are you-" she tried, making her way back to the kitchen.

"Making you a real cuppa," he said, emphasizing his accent for dramatic effect. Sammy laughed, walking up next to him.

"Want me to throw your shirt in the dryer?" She asked.

"Sure," he said, pouring the hot water into two cups to let the tea steep.

Sammy grabbed his drenched shirt from the chair and tossed it into the dryer near the bathroom, turning it on and listening as it rumbled to life. A bit of thunder rattled outside and Sammy looked around, nervous.

"Don't like storms?" Lee asked, curious.

"Not a big fan of them, no," she said, making her way back to him. "I like when the power goes out even less."

Lee nodded. He could understand that.

"Bold of you to move to New Orleans then," he said with a bit of a laugh. Sammy rolled her eyes. She had heard that one plenty of times before.

"I can finish the tea if you want, Lee," she said, reaching behind him.

He shot her a look and blocked her hand from reaching the cups, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. She swallowed, worried he'd notice the bruise.

"Rule number one," he said, pushing gently back. "Never try and take a mans tea."

Sammy looked up him, matching his serious expression before she started to laugh. It made Lee smile. He was still holding her hand, and at just the wrong moment, chose to look down. His face fell.

"Sammy," he said, rolling up her sleeve. "What is this?"

Her face drained of color. She tried to tug her hand away but he held it there.

"It's nothing," she tried, panicking. "Just some stupid drunk at the bar-"

"What happened?" He asked, looking up to meet her eyes, concerned.

"Nothing, Lee- he was just drunk, he grabbed me, I had one of the guys take him out. It's fine-"

"Hm," Lee said, jaw tightening. "Has this happened before?"

Sammy rolled her eyes and pulled her hand back into her chest, tugging the sleeve down.

"It's fine, Lee. It's nothing I can't handle. Plus, I got the guys in the kitchen to back me up. Some of them might even be able to take you on, Mr. Bond."

Lee scoffed, eyes darting back to her wrist. He frowned. "Alright."

He wasn't happy to leave it at that, but he didn't wanna push. He chewed on the inside of his cheek before he turned and started to get the tea ready. Sammy looked up at him, worried that she'd upset him.

"Lee?" She asked, feigning a smile.

"Yeah?" He said, mixing the tea.

"It's okay, really. I'm fine. It doesn't happen often."

He sighed, holding the tea out to her. "For you," he said, and then, smiling, "genuine made-by-a-Londoner tea." He held up his own cup to her.

Her smile widened and she clinked her cup against his, pulling it in close to smell and taste it.

"Woah," she said, pulling back to inspect it. "What did you do differently?"

"It's a secret," he said. "The Americans dumped the tea in the harbor. They can never know."

Sammy rolled her eyes and slapped his arm, the towel still wrapped over his shoulders. She had hardly noticed that he had nothing on underneath before. She wasn't sure what she expected considering she had put his shirt in the dryer, but it wasn't his bare abs and chest.

"I wonder how long it'll rain for," Lee said, glancing towards the window again.

"Who knows," Sammy said, making her way over to the couch and plopping down carefully so she didn't disturb the tea. She pulled the blanket that Lee had slept with last night over her legs and reached for the remote.

"Anything good on tonight?" He asked, sitting down beside her.

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe there's some old shows on the Hallmark channel. I used to watch those with my grandmother all the time."

Lee hummed, sipping his tea as she scrolled through the channels. This was probably the most domestic he had ever been with somebody, and he found himself comfortable in the role. Taking care of each other, making jokes, sitting in front of the TV with some tea and a blanket. He could already hear how the guys would tease him if he brought it up, but he still wanted to.

Sammy's phone buzzed and she reached forward, lowering the volume on the TV as an old black and white show came across the screen. She pressed the phone to her ear and put the tea down. Lee watched her, curious.

"Hey- wait, what?"

Lee couldn't hear the other side of the conversation. He could tell it wasn't good from the way her face fell. Her eyes glazed over and her lower lip faltered, desperate to shake. She held it back.

"No, mom, it- it's fine, I can figure something out. Don't worry, I'll- I'll get another job if I have to. I- I'll try. Okay, I'll try. Yeah, love you. Bye."

She put the phone down on the table as the dulled sound of the audience laughing in the show sounded. She dropped her head to her hands and drew in a long, steadying breath. Lee put his own tea down beside hers and leaned over, concerned.

"Sammy?" He asked. "Is everything alright?"

She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath for a second, trying to slow her thoughts. When she finally pulled herself up and looked over at Lee, the tears were sitting just at the edge of her eyes, daring to fall.

"Sammy?" He asked again, reaching out to her.

"Lee, I've had a really bad day," she said, her voice breaking as she finished the sentence. She fell forward sobbing into Lee's arms, the towel falling down his back. He hesitated, but as she cried, he wrapped his arms around her back and held her close. She was crying hard, like some valve had been turned and the pressure that was building up inside her was all released at once. Lee had to fight to stay upright, holding her against his chest as she desperately held onto him, like he was the only thing in the world keeping her head above water. He reached a hand up to stroke her hair, still mostly wet and tangled.

"Hey," he said, his voice muffled by the top of her head. "It's okay. It's alright. What happened?"

She had her hands wrapped underneath his shoulders, fingers desperately clutching the skin of his back. Her cries were muffled by his chest, and he could feel the warmth of her tears along his skin. He rocked himself slightly, pulling her closer to him to try and calm her. After a few minutes her sobs began to dwindle, but Lee kept rocking them both and stroking her hair.

"Sammy," he said again, much more gentle than anyone would ever expect him to be. He lowered his mouth to her ear, whispering softly to her. "It's okay, Sammy. Talk to me. What can I do?"

She drew in a breath and turned her head so that her words wouldn't get lost in his chest.

"That was my mom," she said, sniffing. Lee lowered his hand from her hair and started to stroke her back, feeling her breath hiccup and fight to quicken. "She said... She said that my dad lost his job. He lost his job, so when this month is over, we won't have insurance anymore. And without the insurance, we can't afford my little sisters cancer treatments. And without the treatments, she doesn't stand a chance."

Lee swallowed, his heart aching for Sammy. He dropped his head so that his cheek rested on the top of hers.

"I'm sorry, Sammy."

"I don't know what to do, Lee," she said, a strangled sob escaping as she talked. "I send them all the money I can afford to so we can cover what the insurance didn't, and even with that sometimes there wasn't enough. Even if I work two jobs and live on the street, I just..."

Lee rocked her a little faster as he felt her panic pick up. He held her against him.

"I could just give up and go home and be there with her until it's over. But I feel like I'd be letting everyone down. We've tried so hard to get her what she needs, and... And they just laid him off. Just like that, like it was nothing."

Lee swallowed, feeling a sting in his own eyes at Sammy's misery.

"Maybe I can ask my friend Tool if he needs help in the shop," he said, basically cradling her. "You said you were an artist. He'd probably love to have you around."

Sammy was quiet. She couldn't understand why Lee would be so kind to her. They'd been acquainted for the better part of five years, but hadn't really interacted until a handful of days ago. She focused on his gentle touch, on the warmth of his skin against her cheek. She just wanted to sleep.

"Why are you being so kind to me, Lee?" She asked, still clinging to him.

Lee adjusted so that he could lean on the back of the sofa and still hold her. He shrugged. "I just want to help."

Sammy closed her eyes.

"It's been a really, really shitty day, Lee," she said, a desperate crack in her low voice. "That guy at the bar, then my car, then the storm, and now this... I don't know if I can do this anymore."

Lee squeezed her a little tighter, his heart dropping to his stomach. "Don't talk like that," he said, closing his eyes too. "You can do it. You'll figure something out. I'll help you."

"Why, Lee?"

"Because I want to," he said. "I want to help you."

Sammy still didn't get it but kept her mouth shut, focusing instead on the sound of his heartbeat inside of his chest. Before they knew it, they had both fallen asleep like that, with Sammy curled up and pulled into Lee's chest, and Lee leaning awkwardly over to rest his head in the corner between the back of the couch and the armrest. Sammy had pulled the blanket over both of them in her sleep.

Their tea sat on the coffee table getting cold.