Richie looked at his room for the first time in two months. It felt strange to be home again. Duncan had put Richie's bag on his bed and was unpacking it when Richie walked in.

"I can do that," Richie said.

"Are you sure you don't want to rest a bit? You look a little tired."

Richie thought about it. He was a little tired. "Okay."

"Alright." Duncan gave Richie a warm hug as he passed him to get out of the room. "I'll make you some breakfast when you decide you're ready."

"Thanks."

"Good to have you home again." With that, Duncan closed the door and left Richie alone.

Richie took off his shoes, socks and jeans and got into bed. It was a little awkward. After all, this was where it had all started.

'Don't be stupid,' he told himself, pulling the covers up to his chin. 'Home is safe.'

He closed his eyes and willed sleep to come.

It wasn't long before his easy uneventful dreams took a turn. The simple everydayness about his dream was interrupted when Duncan and Tessa had disappeared from the loft. Richie searched the loft, all the bedrooms, the store, the office, the storage room...he was left completely alone. That was when he heard it. The back door opening. Light, easy footsteps through the workshop, then the kitchen door opening.

It was Duncan and Tessa, back from wherever they had gone, Richie realized. He went to greet them and ask about dinner. Duncan and Tessa were not in the kitchen. No one was. But Richie had distinctly heard them come in. He heard footsteps behind him. He tried to turn around, but his ankles were bound. He felt someone grab his arms and try to bind his hands behind his back.

"No!" he tired to break free but they held him too tightly. "Help!" he screamed. "Someone help me!"

"Richie!"

"Let me go! Please!"

"Richie!"

"Please! Please, just let me go!"

"Richie!"

"I just want to go home! Why won't you leave me alone?"

"Richie, Richie wake up!"

"Please!"

"Wake up!"

Richie's eyes snapped open. "Mac!" He was back in his bed, tangled in the sheets and blankets, Duncan holding him around his shoulders, Tessa holding his hands. "Tessa." He panted and stopped struggling.

"It was just a dream, Richie," Tessa told him softly, letting go of his hands and hugging him tightly. "You're alright." She stroked his cheek and smoothed his hair. "It was all a dream. You're safe now."

Duncan untangled the sheets so Richie's feet were free before sitting on Richie's other side and holding one of his hands. "Do you want to try and go back to sleep?" he asked.

Richie shook his head. "No."

"But you're tired," Tessa told him.

"You've barely been asleep for five minutes."

"Five minutes well spent," he told them.

Duncan took the afghan off the back of the couch and laid it over Richie, who was fast asleep on the couch.

"Thought you said you weren't tired," he smiled down at the unconscious teen.

"I think he's scared of his room," Tessa said, coming out of the kitchen. "He was sleeping fine at the hospital. He hasn't had a nightmare in weeks."

"Of course he's scared of his room!" Duncan realized. Richie moaned on the couch and repositioned himself. "Of course he's scared," he repeated, softer. "Why would he want to sleep in there?"

"What are we going to do? Do we have to move?"

"We'll have to figure that out."

That night when it was time for bed they were still at a loss for what to do about getting Richie to sleep.

"I'll be fine," Richie mumbled trying to push Duncan and Tessa out of his room.

"Okay, look, here's the deal," Duncan said, turning around. "If you decide you don't want to sleep in here, you come in our room or go out on the couch, anywhere you're comfortable, okay?"

"Alright," Richie groaned. It had been obvious throughout the day that Richie was rather embarrassed about his earlier display. But at the same time, Duncan and Tessa could tell he wasn't ready to try it again.

"Anytime," Tessa told him. "Just come in."

"Okay."

He closed the door behind them. Duncan and Tessa went into their room and got ready for bed. They left the door open in case Richie had another bad dream.

"Do you think he's okay?" Tessa wondered.

"I think he wants to be."

"He's not going to sleep tonight."

"Well, hopefully he's smart enough to go somewhere where he will sleep."

"What if he doesn't?"

"Not as if he's going anywhere tomorrow. He can take over the couch."

"What are we going to do about the reporters? They wouldn't leave us alone, what are they going to do when they find out he's home?"

"Drive us all insane."

They got into bed and were drifting off to sleep when someone appeared in their doorway.

"Rich?" Duncan asked, pushing up on his elbows. "Everything okay?"

"Um..." he floundered. "I'm just going out to the couch."

"Alright, thanks for the heads up. Uh, do you need any extra blankets or anything?"

"No." He gave them an awkward wave. "Night."

"Night, Rich."

When Richie was gone, Tessa got up and collected her pillow and the spare blanket off the trunk.

"What are you doing here?" Richie asked from the floor in front of the TV.

"Thought you might want some company."

"I'm fine."

"Why don't you just come in our room?" she suggested.

"I'm 18. I outgrew the whole sleep with mommy and daddy to make the monsters go away thing years ago."

"Richie, these aren't monsters hiding under your bed. The last time you woke up in that room there was a gun in your face."

"Don't remind me."

"You keep reminding yourself."

"Tessa," Richie sighed and sat up. "How lame am I that I can't sleep in my own bed? I can't be in my room without someone there. I'm supposed to be okay now. What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing. Richie," she sat next to him on the floor. "You've been through something very traumatic. No one expects you to go back to normal over night."

"It's been a month."

"You've only been home for a few hours."

"How long until I go back to normal?"

"I don't know. But you won't go back to normal hiding from your feelings. If you're scared you have to say something. If you're angry say it. If you're hurt tell us."

"Tess," Richie said after a long pause. "I think I'm scared."

"We can work on that."

It took some trial and error. But Richie's sleeping problem was solved by a new set of bedclothes and pillows and a rearranged room. In a matter of days, he was sleeping alone in his own room with minimal problems. He went back for a checkup and was pronounced healthy and fit. He worked hard and was building back up the strength in his legs and arms.

One morning, Duncan was surprised to find Richie up and waiting for him when he went to check in on him before going for a jog.

"Can I come?" Richie asked.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Rich."

"Why not? You're always saying I should get more exercise."

"I think PT is enough exercise for you right now."

"Mac, all those are, are testing my strength and making sure I'm doing it right. I can go with you."

"I don't think so, Rich."

"Then can you ask Tessa if I can use her treadmill?"

"I don't want you using that unless you know how."

"Can you show me how before you go?"

"Not today. Maybe later."

"Can I help?" Richie asked coming down the stairs to the store.

"We got it covered, Rich," Duncan told him.

"Why don't you go upstairs and..." Tessa searched for what to say.

"Fine," Richie sighed and went back upstairs.

"Can we go to Chili's for dinner?" Richie asked one night.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Tessa said. "But I can make you whatever you want."

"I don't want anything here; I want to go out."

"We're not going out."

"Why not?"

"Because there are too many reporters out there. Now, tell me what you want and I'll go make it."

"I don't want you to make it. I want to go out."

"Well, we're not. We're eating at home."

"I don't want to!"

"I can go get carry out," she offered.

"Can I go with you?"

"No."

"Richie, get away from there," Duncan said, finding Richie staring out a window.

"Why?"

"Because."

"You always tell me that's not a reason."

"Just move."

"Don't!" Duncan warned. Richie's hand flinched away from the ringing phone. Duncan picked it up. "Hello...no, Richie's not doing any interviews... I don't have a comment...Don't call us again." He hung the phone up. "Richie, I've told you a thousand times, don't answer the phone."

"I know!" Richie snapped. "Don't answer the phone, don't answer the door, don't talk to the reporters, don't go outside without you or Tessa, don't go into the store during open hours, don't stand next to the windows, don't do anything!" he ranted, from his seat on the couch.

"Rich..."

"Everyone keeps telling me that I'm the victim. That there's nothing to be ashamed of. Then why do I have to hide? Why can't I just be normal?" he demanded, tears in his eyes. "If I'm the victim, why am I the one being punished? What the hell did I do wrong?"

"Nothing, Richie."

"Then why am I under house arrest? I don't understand why I have to be treated like a prisoner when I didn't do anything." His voice shook and the tears fell slowly.

"Richie..." Duncan sat next to him and pulled him close, letting the teen cry into his chest. "I'm sorry you feel like that. We don't want you to be a prisoner. We're just trying to protect you." He felt his own eyes begin to water. "What happened to you is completely unfair. And what's happening now isn't fair either, but we don't know how else to keep you safe. Those people out there just want a story out of you. The only way to keep them away from you is to keep you away from them." He kissed the top of Richie's head. "We don't know what else to do."

"Why won't they just go away?" Richie asked Duncan's shoulder.

"I don't know, Rich."

"I just wanna be normal again."

"I know you do." Duncan heard the back door open, then close. "I smell egg drop soup," he told Richie, changing the subject. "I can hear your stomach from here."

Richie pulled away, sniffing and wiped at his cheeks. "You're gonna tell Tess, aren't you?"

"I tell you what, I'll tell her after you go to bed, okay?"

"Dinner!" Tessa called from the kitchen. "Duncan, can you set the table? Richie, you can help me."

Richie went over and helped her dish out the various meals from the Chinese take-out containers.

"Is this what I think it is?" he asked opening a container.

"I got you General Tso shrimp," she told him. "But if it upsets your stomach, stop eating it."

"Tessa, I've been home for a week and a half. I'm fine now."

"I know," she told him, putting her hand on his shoulder. "I just worry about you. I don't know how you eat half the things you do. I should know by now you have a strong constitution."

Richie looked at her for a minute, nodded once, then took the platters to the table. He sat down, then Tessa brought the soup to the table and sat as well. Duncan was the last to join, bringing everyone a glass of water.

"Well, let's eat before it gets cold." Duncan said, serving himself picking up his spoon and starting on his soup.

Richie stared at his food for a moment, eyes unfocused, his attention elsewhere. Once he was done praying, as Tessa and Duncan assumed he was, he picked up his fork and speared a large piece ofshrimp that was dripping with the spicy plum sauce. He at a few pieces of his favorite food then seemed to concentrated on his rice, sans his usual chili sauce, and soup.

"Are you alright?" Tessa asked him.

Richie looked down and mumbled. "Spicer than usual."

"Do you want to trade?" Duncan offered his flavorful, yet light, and most importantly non-spicy broccoli chicken.

"No, thanks. I'm gonna eat this."

"You just said it was too spicy," Tessa pointed out. "You have to be hungry you didn't eat much for lunch."

"I'm fine," he insisted. "I'm gonna eat this."

"You're going to make yourself sick."

"No, I won't," he snapped. "I wanted this and I'm gonna eat it!"

"Richie, calm down," Duncan said. "She's just trying to help."

"I don't need her help!" Richie insisted. "I don't need your help! I'm just fine! I don't need you two second guessing everything I do! In case you haven't noticed, I have yet to make a wrong decision! I know what I can and can't eat! I can eat this and I'm gonna!"

"Then shut up and eat," he snapped back.

Richie jumped in his seat and quickly turned his attention to his food.

"Duncan..." Tessa was shocked. "How could you? He's just a little tired."

"No," Duncan said. "No more excuses." He turned to Richie. "You want things to go back to normal?" Richie looked at him and nodded slightly. "Then you know better than to take that tone with us. I wouldn't have let you get away with it before and I won't let you get away with it now."

"Can I go eat in my room?" Richie asked even as he picked up his plate and drink.

"Yes," Tessa said just as Duncan scowled at him, "No, you may not."

Richie cast a glance at Duncan,the oldermanobviously meant what he said, he put his things back down and went back to eating.

"Duncan..."

"We wouldn't have let him do it before," he reasoned, getting up as the phone rang. "Hello?...No." He hung up.

"More reporters?" Richie asked.

"I don't know what we're going to do about them," Duncan admitted. "We've already changed the number and kept it unlisted."

"They're never gonna leave us alone," Richie mumbled. "Not 'til they get what they want."

"Richie, you're just a story to them."

"They'll loose interest," Tessa added.

"When? When some other kid gets kidnapped? Did you know that some chick is dead?"

"What?" Duncan asked, confused.

"Yeah, they found this chick's body, shot in the head and left behind a dumpster and no one knows about it cause I'm the only thing the news will cover!"

"Then how did you find out about it?"

"It's in the paper. Way back in the back," Richie shrugged. "Think they said her name was Mary something...It's just stupid. I mean, isn't a murderer worse than a kidnapper? I'm okay, that woman is dead."

"Rich... it's all a matter of politics," Duncan told him. "People are going to beat this horse to death. Everyone's interested because nobody knows what happened."

"Then maybe I should just tell them."

"Richie, nobody expects you to do that," Tessa said.

"They're not gonna leave us alone 'til they get to interview me."

"Richie, what are you going to tell them?"

"Depends on what they ask."