"Ok then, thanks for letting me know. I'll see you guys in the morning? Ok, thanks so much. Night."

Charlotte put down the phone and sighed. At that exact moment two emotions were battling in her heart. Relief and feeling like the world's biggest bitch. Relief because she'd be out of this house soon and away from this abusive bastard, and a bitch because Danielle had been right all along, and Charlotte had let her desire for Adam rule over her friend's hell. She vowed when she was in her own place, she'd text Danielle and beg her for her forgiveness. Looking at her phone, she scowled, still not believing Adam had made her text Tim back at 3 AM because he'd called her fucking babe. She had to put that right sooner rather than later.

She ran through a mental list of everything Danielle had said, comparing it with her own experiences with Adam. He makes me call him Sir. Check. He checks my phone. Check. He tells me what I can and can't wear. Check. I can't talk to friends or family. Check. Nope, all in all, Charlotte Avery had to admit she was in a pretty shit situation, and she should've been there for her so-called best friend. Some friend she'd been.

Glaring at herself in disgust in the living room mirror, she promised herself that as soon as she could, she'd make it up to Danielle, for the rest of their lives. She was the one in the wrong here, not Danielle. For the first time, Charlotte was starting to realise that perhaps Danielle had had a damn good reason for trying to hang herself that day. Oh, and he treats me like a sex toy. Check.

But in the here and now, Charlotte knew what she had to do. She'd just got off the phone with the police who'd informed her that Adam had been remanded back into police custody. And that they'd be helping her get out of his house the next morning, but she was safe there overnight. For a moment she was tempted to just leave, but she didn't own a car so that would be a foolish idea and a cab would be too difficult, she had too much stuff. They'd also told her that Smith's Grove, the hospital Danielle was in, had designated some of their own Domestic Violence Advisors to help her in whatever way they could. It seemed Danielle had raised the alarm for her. That made Charlotte feel even worse than she did already.

With a heavy sigh, Charlotte picked up her phone and dialled Tim's number. He deserved an apology. It was time to start fixing the damage Adam Dawson had done to her life.

The Shape stood at the bars of his cell, looking out of the small window set in the ceiling towards the exercise yard where Danielle Hayward was currently standing. He could just about see her through the glass. What the hell was he doing? He was Michael Myers, the one his own doctor had described as "pure evil", "there's nothing left." Yet here he was, looking out of the window at the very woman he couldn't stop thinking about. He was seriously starting to believe that the first thing he'd felt upon meeting Danielle had been sympathy. Of course, he hadn't realised it at the time, but when she'd accidentally crossed his line and asked, "Are you Mr. Myers?" Genuinely having no idea if it was him or not, had got to him in a way he couldn't explain. Why else had he touched her arm in answer, not just ignored her, and walked away? As far as his chains allowed anyway.

Not to mention he hadn't let it end there either. He'd held her hand the next time and pressed his own call button when she'd had her panic attack. He'd heard her say to Joanne that she hadn't been unable to find it. That touched him. Must have. Because why else had he taken her into his cell with him and held her that night? Not to mention had shown her where the damn call button was?

He suspected it had something to do with the fact that she was so vulnerable. Physically as well as mentally. He'd suspected even before she'd told him there was a man involved in the reason she was here, hence why he'd written, are you scared to trust?' But that was another thing. Why did he care if she trusted him or not? Or even if she was giving him mixed signals? Why had it made him feel…? Whatever it had, to the extent that he'd written that damn letter in the first place?

He couldn't deny one thing though. Danielle was very vulnerable. Vulnerable and innocent. Just based on the facts of the little she'd told him and the fact that she couldn't see. Perhaps that was why he'd wanted to help her. She had her own scars, as did he. When Jefferson had deliberately tripped her with his foot, that'd angered him more than he would've believed. As had before when Jefferson had openly sneered at her. He almost killed him the first time and wouldn't hesitate to try again, but this time he'd succeed.

One thing was certain of. He, Michael Myers cared about Danielle Hayward. He wasn't thinking they'd see each other again once she left here, he wouldn't call her a friend, (he'd long since given up hope of getting out without escaping,) but he would do his bit to help her while she was here and recovering. Whatever that was…

"Danielle," Dr Stark said as they were sitting in the therapy room with the security window open, and the speakers off. "You may wonder why I'm doing this and think it is pointless, but will you work with me here?"

Danielle raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" She said slowly. "In what way?"

"Will you tell me a bit about yourself and your life before Adam? Likes, dislikes, and such?"

"Um, ok?" She was puzzled. How would this help in her recovery? But then, she reasoned, Dr Stark was the doctor, not her. "Then, can I make one small request of my own?"

"Go for it."

"Can Joanne be in here for this? If she's going to be guarding me while I'm here she should probably know too."

"Good thinking," Dr Stark chuckled and stood. To Danielle's gratitude, Joanne was there within a minute.

"Hi Danielle," Joanne said, and Danielle felt affection rise in her chest, she couldn't help it as Joanne sat next to her on her side of the window. 'Mind you she's armed,' Danielle thought. 'She could shoot me before I even touched her. That's probably why.'

"Ok Danielle," Dr Stark began. "Tell us about yourself."

"What do you want to know?" Danielle asked, suddenly feeling nervous for some reason.

"Whatever you want to tell us," The floor is yours.

"My name is Danielle Jamie Hayward, I'm 19. I have been totally blind since birth. I was born 15 weeks premature with only a 15% survival rate. Somehow, I beat it," she gave them a small smile. "But my parents didn't want me. Oh, they did their part when I was a child, but it was always clear they didn't really want me. You know, on days we went out, they'd ignore anything visual and not really describe it to me, if we were with a group of their friends I'd be put in a corner, and not really spoken to as if they just wanted to keep me out of the way, so I wouldn't bother them. Their friends would say a brief, 'hello how are you?' But never much more than that. It was as if because I'm blind, I was also stupid." She laughed a little sadly.

"I got mercilessly bullied at school because I'm blind. You know, hiding my books, pushing me in holes in the playground, writing obscenities on my homework, all that stuff. Bending my cane at one point. My parents, I don't think we're very happy that they had a blind daughter. I was, to use their exact words, 'less than perfect.' They texted me a couple of years ago, soon after I met Adam, telling me 'This was goodbye, and they didn't want me as their daughter anymore.'"

"I'm sorry," Dr Stark and Joanne said together. Danielle smiled a little more genuinely this time. "Don't be. I've had two years to get used to it, plus I was expecting it at some point to be honest. They only ever got involved in my bullying if it ended up costing them money. I mean when that boy bent my cane, they spoke to his parents forcing them or him to pay up. Canes are about $50 each. Otherwise, they did care what was happening. 'Kids are kids, they'd say.' Basically, I felt like they were just telling me to get on with it and grow up before my time."

I met Adam Dawson at college. I was studying English Literature and met him in one of the student cafés. You know the usual. He was really nice to me at first, making me think I'd found love, then as soon as I moved in with him, bam! Everything changed. I had to call him Sir, give him my bank card, you know the drill."

"I do indeed," Dr Stark said. "I'm so sorry. But let's move away from Adam for a moment. Tell us. What do you like Danielle?"

"In what sense?"

"Anything. Food, hobbies, etc."

"I absolutely love white chocolate," She admitted. "It's my biggest weakness. I can't stand coffee, though," she smiled and this one. "I smell it a lot around here. Just the smell puts me off. It's vile." Dr Stark and Joanne chuckled. "I'm a tea drinker all the way."

"I love pasta, carbonara being my all-time favourite. Love fruit and vegetables, hence why I always have an apple or banana for breakfast." Joanne touched her hand. "All types of yogurt… I loathe tomatoes, and sprouts…" She pulled a face.

"So do I," Dr Stark and Joanne said in unison, which made all three of them laugh.

"As for my hobbies, I really like soccer, books and movies, my favourites are from the horror and thriller genres. Shopping, meeting friends, and theme parks. I, um… Also have favourite sounds I like hearing," she said, blushing.

"Really? Like what?"

She debated for a second, but then realised she had to be honest with these people. They were clearly trying to help her after all. That's what Dr Stark had told her at least twice. So, she'd have to play her part and tell them the truth. "Whistling. I really like when people whistle," she muttered, embarrassed.

"That's unusual," Danielle could tell the doctor was smiling. "Any particular reason for it?"

"My grandad used to whistle a lot when I was a child. If mom and I were out shopping, I'd always know he was in the store because he'd be whistling. I'd tell my mom that he was there, and she'd say that he wasn't, but then a few minutes later we would see him. I know you don't want me to talk about him, but Adam used it as part of the abuse. If I'd done what he wanted for a week he would whistle for a second, but that was all. At first, he whistled all the time, just to make me think he was a nice guy. But then…"

"We'll come back to Adam," Dr Stark said. "Your granddad whistling in the store is a nice little story. Any other sounds?"

"Someone eating apples," Danielle said. "I like the crunching sound."

"To be fair that is a nice one," Joanne chuckled. "I like that too."

"What about touch? You obviously use your hands to touch objects, is there a particular object you like touching?"

Danielle blushed bright red, feeling her face heat up. It was clear that they had seen it because they both laughed. "You're as red as the tomatoes you hate," Joanne teased. "Do tell?"

"I… Um…" Danielle hesitated. "This stays between us, right?"

"Absolutely," Dr Stark said seriously. Doctor-patient confidentiality."

"I have a thing about ears," she said so quietly she wasn't sure if they heard her. That would be ironic. Not hearing her talking about ears.

"Really?" It was Joanne who asked. "Why?"

"Charlotte and I met when we were children, her parents were always kind to me. They would touch and rub my ears if I was in distress. It always comforted me. Plus, well… I like touching other people's ears that is. It really turns me on if a guy has nice ears."

"Hmmm," Dr Stark said thoughtfully. No judgement in her voice whatsoever. Danielle was grateful that they didn't make fun of her. What they thought privately she'd never know, but they weren't judging her, to her face at least. She knew they were too professional to talk behind her back of course.

"Adam of course let me touch his ears and whistled, just to make me think I he was the perfect guy, before… He showed his true colours. Like I say, I really want to see Charlotte protected from him. I can't let him do to her what he did to me."

"I promise you that won't happen. We've already got DV Advisor's contacting her to arrange a face-to-face meeting."

"Thanks," Danielle said. More grateful than she could ever tell them.

"The police are helping her move to a DV refuge today," Dr Stark said. "She'll be perfectly safe."

"For which I can't thank you enough," Danielle said, feeling a lump in her throat. "You guys moved so fast… Thank you."

"It's our job," Dr Stark said, laying a soft hand on her arm, as did Joanne. "It's what we're here for."

30 minutes later, Joanne guided Danielle out into the yard and towards Michael, who was chained to his block. Immediately, he took her hand in his.

"Hi…" Danielle said. "Michael," The killer squeezed her hand again. She hadn't called him Sir! That was the second time! She gave herself a mental pat on the back, knowing that was what his hand squeeze also was. "Are you ok?" He squeezed her hand twice, which she knew was the signal for yes.

A little later they were being escorted back inside when a deafening alarm cut the silence. "Shit!" Ryan yelled. Joanne tightened her hand on Danielle's arm, as she started in shock. "Don't panic Danielle," she shouted over the alarm. "That's the riot bell but you're perfectly safe. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving your side. Ok?" Rick led Michael back into the block. Neither he nor Joanne were running, remaining calm the whole time. Danielle wondered if it was to keep her and Michael calm, or because they weren't going anywhere and weren't rushing the two of them for anyone.

They entered just as another guard was locking Jefferson's door. "Got to go!" he shouted to them before running out of the block. Jefferson was grinning, not caring about the wailing siren. His hand was against his crotch, Joanne saw with disgust. The guy had been admitted for horrific sexual violence and as far as she was concerned, he deserved worse than what he was getting. Death penalty sounded good… She blinked as she guided Danielle towards her cell. They'd just reached the door, when Jefferson let out a strangled cry and Joanne realised the bastard had just ejaculated. Danielle was oblivious of this of course, until a second later warm, sticky liquid hit her straight in the face.

"You disgusting son of a bitch!" Rick yelled. "I can't believe you just did that! You…" Danielle knew what it was. His cum. The sick bastard had just thrown his cum at her. But she was used to it from Adam, she'd gone past the point of vomiting years ago. Joanne must've realised this because she pulled Danielle into a hug. "Well, as you won't let me fuck you," Jefferson jeered. "If I can't get in your cunt, then it'll be in your mouth instead, you blind bitch!"

Joanne helped Danielle into her cell and to the sink. As she did so, Rick unchained Michael, then touched his shoulder, deliberately turning away, pulling out his radio. "Any help needed over there?" He said casually as if nothing was happening, before Danielle heard a scuffle of feet, then a loud crash. Joanne looked up and had to bite back a smirk. She had to at least pretend to aid the sexual prick. Michael Myers had Jefferson against his own cell bars, repeatedly smashing his skull against the metal. But Joanne ignored what was happening as she tenderly wiped Danielle's face.

Charlotte smiled at the officers as they loaded the last of her bags into their van. They'd brought some boxes for her to use. She still had a lease on her apartment, but Adam knew that address, so it was considered too dangerous by both her and the police to go back there.

"Thanks," Charlotte said gratefully, climbing into the vehicle. She glanced in the visor mirror and saw her black eye. Adam had inflicted this on her for some minor thing he regarded as her disobeying him. Charlotte sighed sadly. She had to text Danielle as soon as possible. She had to. Danielle deserved her, on her knees for how she'd treated her, over that abusive prick. She'd let her desire overshadow her so-called best friend. She should be ashamed of herself, and she was. She wouldn't blame Danielle if she told her she never wanted to see her again.

Sadly, she looked out the window as the police van drove her away from Adam's house and hopefully towards safety. She had to trust them now, she had no other choice. The officers had told her it was likely that Adam would be in custody for another night at least, but that didn't quell her fears. She knew, both from her own experiences and Danielle's, that Adam was a calculated, and malicious man. He'd at least try to find her; she'd be a fool if she thought otherwise. She sighed. She was being taken to a Domestic Violence refuge. She just hoped she was as safe as they promised, but somehow, she doubted it. Adam Dawson was always one step ahead.