Jeffrey was being dumb. He was well aware of that, but it didn't stop him any. He'd been driving for over three hours. He had set out without a destination in mind; he'd just need to get out of Arundel and away from everything that reminded him of what had happened – both of Dexter and of what he had done. This was the first time he'd been alone since Dexter had left him to die. His phone had rung incessantly for the first hour of his drive. His mother had been determined to reach him, but after a while she had given up. He had his broken leg propped up on the seat; he was dangerously using his left to drive. He'd struggled in the beginning, but now that he was on the interstate, he could use cruise control, and it going was alright.

He couldn't get Skye's face out of his mind. He saw it more clearly than he saw the road in front of him. She was sickeningly bruised – worse than she'd been before. Even Dexter hadn't beaten her like that. Jeffrey had only hit her that morning, which meant that her face would darken and the swelling would increase. He hadn't even seen the worst of what he'd done to her.

As if he needed another reason to hate himself. He was already humiliated, traumatized, and in constant pain. How had he taken the one thing in his life that was anything worthwhile and so completely ruined it? He could never face Skye again, or any other Penderwick. She had already been so abused. She was nowhere near recovered from that, and now he'd given her something else to heal from.

A second memory haunted him just as vividly – the one of him taking Skye's clothes off himself. He had been the first one to touch her. Yes, Dexter had orchestrated it, but that didn't change the truth. He'd sexually assaulted her, and now he'd beaten her too. All that separated him from Dexter was that he'd never tied her up, but what importance did that have? How different were they, really? Jeffrey hadn't just failed to protect her, he'd done the same damn things. He did nothing but cause Skye pain; his life was so worthless.

But he wasn't going to end it. Unless of course, he crashed his car and died, but that would be beyond his control. He would take a day or so to clear his head and make peace with what he was, then he would contact his parents and tell them that the Penderwicks needed to leave. Only then would he return home. He knew Skye would fight it – her whole family would – but soon they would all realize that they were better off without him. He only wished he'd realized that sooner, when he'd had the power to protect Skye from ever being abducted at all. Cutting out the Penderwicks would be something he never truly recovered from, but he knew what he had to do. It was a sacrifice he couldn't afford not to make. It devastated him, but it would be selfish to continue to hurt them for his own benefit. After the unforgiveable amount of suffering he had brought to their door, it was all he could give them.

He drove on for two additional hours. It wasn't until he'd absentmindedly exited the interstate and passed a "Welcome to Baltimore" sign that he realized he was in Maryland. At some point during his trip, his subconscious had settled on a destination. It probably hadn't been until he'd begun to recognize his surroundings and approached a familiar exit. Baltimore was where Andrew Matsui lived. Jeffrey had driven himself there four times since he had gotten his license, but he'd visited his roommate probably a dozen since he'd met him at age thirteen.

He sat at the traffic light at the bottom of the exit as it changed from red to green and back again. He was confused. He'd been too caught up in his thoughts to pay attention to where he was going. He didn't think he wanted to see Andrew.

A car pulled up behind him and honked. The back tires of Jeffrey's car spun out as he pulled forward. Using the wrong leg, he was heavy footed. Luckily, it was just after 2 am and there weren't many cars on the road. He did fine enough once he got going; it was the acceleration and braking he struggled with most. Fortunately, his difficulty with the brake was that he would step on it too hard. He'd thrown himself into the steering wheel a couple of times, but at least he wouldn't hit anything.

He was just about ready to turn around and get back on the highway, but simple curiosity stopped him. It was interesting that without thinking about it, this was where he'd decided to go. He had told Jane that he was keeping his distance from his school friends because she and her family were there to support him. He didn't have them anymore. He wasn't particularly keen on suffering alone with only his parents – that wouldn't be fair for them either, so he continued on to Andrew's house. He pulled up in front of the ivy covered gate and rolled down his window to punch in the entry code. The gate swung open and Jeffrey lifted his foot off the brake and let his car roll slowly down the gravel path without ever pressing the accelerator. Andrew's family was about as rich as his was. A lot of the kids at his school were. Jeffrey had liked Andrew from the start because he thought those kids were as spoiled and snobby as he did.

Jeffrey parked his car in the driveway next to Andrew's black BMW, but he didn't get out. He stared at the familiar house, with it's stone blue exterior and white trimmings, feeling a wide range of different emotions. The first one was relief, but after that, he started to feel wrong – empty and almost bitter. He'd fooled himself by coming here. Any part of his life that had come before his abduction would be altered forever once he chose to acknowledge it. He would ruin this too.

That didn't make him want to leave. He'd made it this far; the damage was likely already done. He sat there for more than half an hour because he was unable to make up his mind. Jeffrey draped his forearms over his steering wheel and rested his head against his cast. He stared into his lap and weighed the pros and cons of calling his friend. He didn't notice the front door open or hear the approaching footsteps. He jumped and swore when there was a light tap on his window. Andrew had made the decision for him. He stood just outside of Jeffrey's window with only half a smile on his face.

"You going to sit out here forever or you going to come say hi?"

"I haven't decided yet. Go away so I can figure it out." Jeffrey was kidding. He'd already realized he was happy he was there. All it had taken was one look at his best friend's face and a considerable load had fallen from his shoulders.

Very slowly, Andrew started to grin. "Shut up, asshole," he said before yanking Jeffrey's door open for him.

Jeffrey gripped the roof of his car and dragged himself out backwards. His broken leg slid out last and he just barely touched it to the floor, only enough to aid with his balance. He hadn't thought to bring his crutches. They were probably still laying where he had left them in Arundel's driveway.

Andrew didn't stare, he hardly looked at Jeffrey at all, only pulled him into a tight hug. It didn't matter how many times Jeffrey had experienced it or how many days he'd been home; there was no feeling that rivaled reuniting with someone new and getting hugged by them for the first time.

"I thought you were done for," said Andrew. He squeezed him hard, then let go.

Jeffrey laughed and wobbled for a second before he regained his balance. "Thanks a lot."

Andrew watched him closely, but it was obvious he was trying hard not to look overly concerned. "You look like living hell."

"Well I went through living hell, so," said Jeffrey.

Andrew's jaw pulsed. "Yeah," he muttered. His gaze bounced over Jeffrey's casts and braces. The corner of his mouth twitched angrily and he shook his head in disbelief. "Fuck, Jeffrey." He grabbed him a second time.

Jeffrey stumbled when he let go of him, so he caught Andrew's shoulder to steady himself. Andrew exhaled heavily.

"Sorry," he said. "But I think I'm going to cry."

Jeffrey shrugged. "Everybody does."

Andrew did, but not much. He battled it well. His eyes were glossy, but tears didn't fall. He cleared his throat and said, "That's because everybody loves you."

Jeffrey bitterly turned his arm over in front of him so he could glower at every inch of his broken wrist. "Not everybody, no."

"Everyone that matters." Andrew slammed Jeffrey's car door. "I hope that fucking freak kills himself," he spat. "Actually…no I don't. I hope he has a long miserable life. He can kill himself when he's 100."

Jeffrey wished that he wasn't capable of it, but he wanted Dexter to kill himself too, sooner than later. He didn't care that it was an easy way out, he wanted him dead. Not out of vengeance or for justice, but because his shame and his humiliation was crushing him. He languished in the knowledge that Dexter was out there fondly holding onto the memory of what he had turned him into. He didn't know how to continue on with his life while Dexter was alive to remember him at his worst. Jeffrey could move on, recover – thrive, even – but it would forever feel like a façade. Dexter knew that he lived in Jeffrey's mind and constantly taunted him, saying "don't forget what you told me, Jeffrey. You're nothing." As long as Dexter existed to remember him that way, that would remain who he was.

Jeffrey shook that off and tried for a smile. "Don't worry about it. I'm good now."

Andrew studied him closely. "Are you?"

Jeffrey hesitated, then decided not to lie. "Not really." He skimmed his fingertips over his exposed nailbeds. The skin had hardened into flaking callouses. He didn't really notice that he was missing his nails anymore, except that he had developed a habit of rubbing over where they had once been. It would be months before they grew back, if they ever did. "But I'm not dying now, so I guess I mean good enough."

Andrew was obviously at a loss over what to say. After an uncomfortable silence, he said, "That's a decent improvement."

Jeffrey hated how awkward he felt. Things were supposed to be easy with Andrew – they always were, but Jeffrey didn't know how to talk to him. It reminded him of being with Tommy. That was fine; he knew Tommy well enough, but they'd never talked all that much, and hardly ever without one or more Penderwick acting as a buffer. He talked to Andrew every day, he'd roomed with him at school for an entire four years. The tense atmosphere between them signified the change that Jeffrey had been afraid of.

"Do you want to come inside? I can make waffles," Andrew offered.

Jeffrey wasn't sure he could make it up the driveway, so Andrew disappeared into a shed and returned pushing a wheelbarrow. "Get in," he said proudly.

Jeffrey lowered himself into it without question. He folded his left leg underneath him, but his broken one stretched out over the edge. The boot on his foot was uncomfortably heavy.

The wheelbarrow wobbled precariously when Andrew lifted it.

"If you tip me out of this thing, your parents are going to have a heart attack," Jeffrey warned, though he was amused. "Because I will scream, I promise you."

"Just my mom, my dad's on a business trip. But chill out, I know what I'm doing," Andrew promised.

His actions did not concur with that statement. The wheelbarrow weaved wildly up the driveway and knocked into the side of his car, which beeped in protest.

"Sorry, baby," Andrew apologized to his car and rubbed at the paint.

"Are you going to apologize to me?" Jeffrey teased. The collision had flung him haphazardly.

"Eh, you're fine," said Andrew. "I will confess, I've never used this before."

"No kidding. You're going to kill me," said Jeffrey.

"If I do, then I'll apologize."

Perhaps through magic or divine intervention, they made it to the front porch without any real incident. Andrew set him down and Jeffrey attempted to hoist himself out. The wheelbarrow tipped sideways, so Jeffrey threw himself in the opposite direction, cursing as he balanced it out.

Andrew laughed once he had safely settled. "You good?"

"I am so stuck."

Andrew pulled Jeffrey out and helped him stumble into the house. They tried their best to be quiet so as not to wake Andrew's mother, but they were unsuccessful. Jeffrey knocked over a lamp and Andrew tripped over a rug and fell into a bookcase. Why is it that people are so much more clumsy when they need to be quiet? They both struggled not to laugh.

Once in the kitchen, Jeffrey propped his injured leg up on a chair and sat at the dining table while Andrew slid frozen waffles into a toaster. When he held a plate of them out to Jeffrey, his stare lingered over Jeffrey's missing nails, but he said nothing and prepared his own waffles.

Jeffrey flicked at his food. He still hadn't eaten any when Andrew sat across from him, he just shuffled the waffles around his plate. "You're not asking," he said.

"What?"

"About what he did." Jeffrey didn't look up.

Andrew was quiet until Jeffrey glanced at him to confirm that he'd been heard.

"You stopped texting me back when I did," he said. "I fucked that up, I'm sorry. I was trying to say the right thing."

"I know. I appreciate it, I'm just ignoring everybody right now." Jeffrey stabbed at his food angrily before he let his fork drop. "Are you curious?"

"A little," Andrew said honestly. "But I don't think I want to know."

"You don't."

"I'm not going to ask, I promise. No pressure."

Jeffrey still felt pressured. He always did, even though everyone made sure to tell him he could keep his secret as long as he wanted. He could feel the weight of them wondering.

"I went out there with my dad. Connecticut. There were like three hundred people at the search, it was nuts," said Andrew. "Worst day of my life, actually."

"Mine was worse," said Jeffrey. He regretted saying it. He wasn't making it easy for Andrew not to ask about it when he made comments like that. "Sorry, forget that. What else?"

"Uh…okay," Andrew stammered. "We got back to the hotel and I cried for two hours. We stayed up watching the news until they got you out. Then I was so wired we got Denny's at 4 am and I cried all over. I've never been so emotional in my life."

Jeffrey could appreciate what Andrew was trying to do. He was validating him without actually saying it directly. Jeffrey wished it helped him, but it only reminded him to add Andrew to the list of people who foolishly thought was too highly of him. Andrew wouldn't feel that way if he knew the whole truth; it was a misplaced sentiment. He thought that even Skye knew that it was, but for the moment she was denying it. She had sacrificed so much for him, she didn't want to accept her efforts had been wasted on someone like him.

"How come you didn't come see me? At the hospital," asked Jeffrey.

"I don't know, I wanted to give you time with your family I guess, and with Skye. I didn't know if you'd want me to come."

Honestly, Jeffrey wasn't sure if he would have wanted that either. Not because he hadn't missed Andrew, but the less people that had seen him that damaged in the hospital bed, the better. He still looked awful, but the past week had done wonders for his appearance.

A door opened upstairs and stomping footsteps approached overhead. Andrew's mother was awake. She shouted from the second floor. "Andrew? What do you think you're doing? It's the middle of the night."

"I can lie if you want," Andrew offered. "But she'd like to see you."

"That's okay." Jeffrey finally started eating his waffles. The idea of Mrs. Matsui seeing him like this made him anxious, but it was an anxiety he would have to get used to if he ever hoped to return to a bit of normalcy.

"Is there someone with you? Andrew Matsui, if you're sneaking out another girlfriend—" She finished her warning in furious Japanese.

Andrew grinned. "I've got to get better at that." He called back to his mom, "Not a girl. Come down here."

Mrs. Matsui responded again in Japanese, so Andrew translated. He found his mother quite humorous. "She thinks I'm irresponsible and you're rude. She said 'what kind of person makes house calls in the middle of the night? Don't they know people sleep?'"

"Whoops," Jeffrey laughed. "Did I wake you up?"

"Nah, I hadn't gone to bed yet. I watched you sitting out there for forty minutes."

"Creepy."

"My bad," said Andrew. His expression shifted serious. "I don't sleep much anymore."

"Me neither." Jeffrey wished he'd slept less. He never would have hit Skye if he'd had the decency to stay awake.

"What in God's name is going—" Mrs. Matsui arrived and fell silent when she saw Jeffrey. Her hand flew to her mouth as she quickly started to cry. "Oh goodness."

"Hi," said Jeffrey. He tried his best not to sound as awkward as he felt. "Sorry it's so late."

Andrew snorted.

"You come whenever you want," said Mrs. Matsui. She rushed forward to give him a hug. "I've been so worried about you. Are you alright? Hungry?...no, I see you've eaten. Can I get you something else? A soda or anything? Should I get a bed ready for you?" She fussed over him tearfully. "Praise Jesus, I prayed for you every day—"

"Mom." Andrew slashed his hand across his throat.

Mrs. Matsui flushed and gave Jeffrey space. "I'm just so happy you're safe."

"Thank you," said Jeffrey. "Me too."

"I can't believe it. That man is horrible – the Devil – I am so sorry, sweetheart." She was rambling now. A lot of people did that. They didn't know what to say to him, so they said so much at once. He found it difficult to follow well enough to respond.

"Your poor mother, I should call her—"

"Mom," Andrew repeated.

"No, it's fine," said Jeffrey. He didn't mind it coming from her. Her heart was in the right place, she was such a sweet woman.

"I'm sorry, I'm overwhelmed," she admitted. "Why didn't you call? I would have prepared something."

"I didn't know I was coming," Jeffrey said. "I kind of just ended up here."

"Thank heavens you did."

Andrew's phone rang. He flipped it over and silenced it, but not before Jeffrey saw that it was his mother who had called. Andrew wouldn't meet his eyes. Defensiveness welled up inside Jeffrey. He didn't acknowledge it with Mrs. Matsui in the room, but she soon left them to themselves, still weeping when she walked away.

"You texted my mom?" Jeffrey said the moment she was gone.

Andrew held up his hands in an appeasing gesture. "She called me hours ago to ask if I'd heard from you. I just wanted to ease her mind."

"So you know." Jeffrey's anger was building fast. He'd been an idiot to hope that he could escape here.

"That you ran off?" Andrew nodded. "Yeah."

Andrew was no different than anyone else. He's been lying to him. He wasn't there for him, he was analyzing him and reporting back to his mother. It messed up Jeffrey's entire plan. His mother couldn't have a break from stressing over him if Andrew was contacting her.

"Did you talk to Skye too?" Jeffrey demanded.

Andrew shook his head. "Tried to, but she never opened my snap."

Good. If Skye had known where he was, Jeffrey had no doubt that she'd be halfway to Baltimore already. He didn't have the strength to turn her away a second time. He had to keep his distance or he would lose his self-control. He'd hurt her again.

"What happened? Fighting with her already?" asked Andrew.

"No. We're just done."

"Done?" Andrew didn't think he'd heard him right. "What are you talking about? You've wanted her forever."

Jeffrey stood up. His broken leg fell from the chair and thudded to the floor. He braced his hands against the table and swallowed back a shout. "Don't say it like that."

"Like what?" Andrew stayed seated and stared up at Jeffrey looking confused. Maybe Jeffrey was imagining it, but he thought was a little afraid.

"Like…" Jeffrey tightened his hands around the edge of the table until they turned white. "Like Dexter."

That wasn't really fair. It was just how people talked about relationships, but he didn't like it. Dexter had wanted Skye too. Jeffrey didn't want to think of Skye as his. She didn't belong to him just because she'd started calling him her boyfriend. He didn't want to have her; he just wanted to love her they way that she deserved to be loved. He hadn't done that, and he wouldn't give himself a second chance.

"Dexter? I just mean you've wanted to date her, how is that like…"Andrew put it together and paled. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"Jeffrey, I didn't…I wasn't trying to…you know I respect her," said Andrew. Jeffrey thought he heard Andrew mumbling about how Dexter was a grown ass man and Skye hadn't even graduated yet, before he spoke at a regular volume. "Fuck he's revolting."

Jeffrey immediately felt horrible. It wasn't his place to talk about that. He'd been angry, so it had slipped out, and now Andrew knew Skye had been assaulted. There was no end to the ways he disregarded her feelings.

"You're, what, breaking up with her? After he did that to her?" Andrew said. "Is that what she wants?"

Jeffrey shrugged. He knew she didn't yet, but she would. She knew what she was worth; once her initial shock wore off, she would realize that Jeffrey was doing her a favor. "She deserves the world. I can't give it to her."

"She doesn't want the world, you idiot. She wants you."

"Don't talk about what you don't understand."

Andrew rolled his eyes and Jeffrey almost reached across the table to hit him. Great; there was more evidence that he'd turned into an abusive dick. He'd never wanted to hit anyone before.

"Why are you pushing her away? She was there with you. You can help each other, she does understand," said Andrew. "What happened?"

Jeffrey's leg ached from standing, so he sat down again. He was no less upset. If honesty would get Andrew off his back, then that's what he'd give him. "I beat her up."

Jeffrey could see the air leaving Andrew's lungs. His body slumped with surprise, but he shook his head. "I don't believe that."

"Why would I be lying? I hit her, Andrew. More than once."

"That's not you, Jeffrey."

"Doesn't matter, I did it."

Andrew's cheeks puffed out as he sighed. "Okay…why, then? What happened?"

Jeffrey shrugged again. "PTSD, what else? She was trying to help me, but I lashed out and I hurt her."

Andrew stared at him, considering his words. He sounded almost annoyed when he asked, "Were you awake?"

Jeffrey almost lied and said that he was. The fact that he hadn't been wasn't important. He'd given Skye a black eye, that was what everyone needed to be focused on. Nightmares weren't an excuse.

"You weren't," Andrew realized. "You were fucking sleeping. Jeffrey, that's different."

"It's not," said Jeffrey.

"Look, I'm not saying it's okay, but talk to her. Talk to your mom, you need to go home. They're worried about you."

"That's the problem, that's why I left! They don't need to worry, I don't want them to find me." Jeffrey was getting angry again. He'd never really stopped, but it had lessened. Now, it was returning to its initial level.

Andrew folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Then this was the wrong place for you to go. I'm not humoring this, Jeffrey."

"I'm getting that," snapped Jeffrey. "I'll go before you screw things up even worse."

Andrew didn't look fazed by Jeffrey's tone. "Dude, just call your mom, alright? I wasn't wrong to contact her, you're making her crazy. You got kidnapped, she has to know where you are." His voice lowered to a hoarse whisper. "Come on, man. What were you thinking?"

"You can't ask me that." Jeffrey reached for his keys – he was done, he'd go somewhere else where he couldn't be found – but they weren't where he'd left them on the table. "Where the hell are my keys?"

Without a word, Andrew reached into his pocket and spun Jeffrey's car keys around his index finger. Jeffrey lunged for them, but Andrew closed his fist around them and held his arm out of Jeffrey's reach.

"You're out of your mind if you think you're getting back on the road like that," he said, pointing at Jeffrey's broken leg.

"That's not up to you."

Andrew waved his keys at him. "I think it is."

"Let me leave, Andrew," said Jeffrey, his voice flat but furious.

"Sure, where you want to go? I'll drive."

"I can take myself."

Andrew shook his head. "That's a stupid risk. You could get yourself killed."

"Who cares? If that happens, then clearly it's meant to be," Jeffrey argued. "Give me my damn keys."

Andrew stuck them back in his pocket. "I'm not letting you disrespect yourself like that."

"You can't stop that, I already do. Just let it go, I don't want to drag you into it too. Get yourself a friend that's actually worth your time."

"Worth my time?" Andrew's eyes flashed with anger. "What the hell did he say to you?"

Jeffrey gave a start; he hadn't expected Andrew to pick up on that, and certainly not so fast. "Nothing."

"Bullshit." Andrew snapped his fingers in front of Jeffrey's face. "Wake up. There's a whole fucking lot of us who would be pissed if you died. We all care, so stop being a dick."

Jeffrey was too stunned to argue. No one had spoken to him like that yet.

Andrew sighed and dropped his hands onto the table. "He's one person, one fucking psycho, what he thinks doesn't mean anything. I know he hurt you, I know you're still going through hell, but you've got to stop making it worse. 'Kay? Don't make it worse. You can't run away."

"I'm trying to make it better!" said Jeffrey. "They're good people, I can't do this to them. It's killing them, you don't get it."

"No, I really do, fuck you very much," said Andrew. "You know why I get it? Because you've been back for a week and you won't talk to me. At all, so I've been sitting here losing my mind."

"I don't want that – all of you stressing out because of me. I want it to be normal for you again, none of this is fair. It's wrong for me to—"

"It's not fair, you're right, but it's not wrong for you to need help. You're not the one causing problems. Dexter screwed all of us, and fuck him for that, but you don't have to feel guilty. We don't like that he hurt you, because you mean so much to every single one of us."

Jeffrey started at the lines in the wooden table without speaking. His throat closed up as he was threatened by tears. Andrew could see he was upset. He came around and sat next to Jeffrey to put his arm around his shoulders. He leaned down to look him in the face, although Jeffrey wouldn't meet his eyes.

"If you'd died on me, I don't know what I would have done. Turned to drugs, probably."

Jeffrey almost laughed. "Yeah I keep you on the right track, don't I?"

"Singlehandedly," Andrew agreed. "So don't shut me out. It doesn't matter if you get murdered, or you die in a car accident, or you decide to disappear on me for good. I'd be just as much of a mess. I need my best friend. Keep an eye on me, will you?"

Jeffrey did laugh at that. "I always do."

Andrew wasn't done yet. "Your parents? Skye? They love you even more than I do, so talk to them. You can't help by running away."

Jeffrey wanted to believe him, but it still made the most sense to him. He was the problem, so why not eliminate it?

"Go see your girlfriend before she drives her ass out here to murder me," said Andrew. "You know she will."

Jeffrey smiled because Andrew was right. If Skye found out he was harboring him, he was in for a good fight. Thinking about her made his guilt resurface, and it dragged the smile from his face. "She's not my girlfriend. She can't be."

"Yeah she is," said Andrew. He shook Jeffrey gently by his shoulders then let his arm drop. "You can't control how anybody else feels. You don't decide if you're worth it or not, and we all think that you are. You're stuck with that."

"You shouldn't. It's dumb."

"Too bad, that's how it is." Andrew stood up. "Come on, I'm taking you home."