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Although Gabrielle had fallen asleep within about twenty minutes, Bree remained awake- no longer resting her head on the bed, but reclining in her chair. She didn't know exactly what to do with herself, so she just watched her neighbor sleep…getting lost in the rhythmic pattern of her chest heaving up and down. Bree, who was now completely inside her own mind, hardly noticed when Lynette entered the room.

"Come on, let's get you home." she whispered, delicately placing a hand on the redhead's shoulder. She noticed it was slightly trembling.

Bree glanced down at her watch, and once she realized it was almost 3 a.m., agreed to depart. She slowly sat up, somewhat dizzy, and made her way out of the room. She noticed herself naturally leaning on Lynette for support. This was not something she would take pride in, but she didn't resist.

"Have you been crying?" Lynette asked delicately.

Bree nodded, glancing down at the tile floor. Though Lynette had witnessed more than a fair share of Bree's tears, the redhead was still ashamed to admit she felt so many emotions. "Yeah." She replied- so softly she was barely audible.

Lynette tightened her grip around Bree's hand, assuring her that she was not alone. "Do you need me to take you home? I came with Susan, so I don't have my car here anyway."

Once again, Bree could only nod. There were words, but she chose to remain silent.

The two eventually made it back to the waiting room after what seemed like an eternity for Bree. As much as she appreciated the comfort which Lynette provided her with, she was also beginning to resent being treated as if she were incapable of taking care of herself.

"Hey Bree…" Susan began. "Is everything okay between you and Gabby now?"

"How did you…um…" Bree rubbed her eyes, trying to gain composure. "Did she tell you something was going on?"

"Yeah, she did." Susan needed to be honest with her neighbor.

Bree once again felt a sense of shame. "Fine. Everything's fine." she then separated from Lynette, walking ahead toward the exit.

Lynette said goodbye to Susan, and then met up with Bree; who had already reached her car. The ride home was silent for the most part. Lynette would occasionally start-up a casual conversation, but Bree would usually only reply with one or two word responses. Though Lynette became quite worried about her good friend, she tried to pretend that she didn't notice her fragility. All she wanted to do was wrap her arms around Bree, and let her just cry…or even just talk. As painful as the other night was for both of them, Lynette wanted to relive it. She didn't want Bree to put up emotional barriers again.

"Do you want to talk about anything?" Lynette asked, pulling into Bree's driveway.

"No, thank you." Bree was being incredibly polite.

Lynette felt herself growing frustrated, but would not allow herself to show her anger toward Bree. "Are you sure?"

Bree sighed. "Lynette. You're such a good friend- really, you are. I am so grateful for everything you've done for me over these past few days. But…" she hesitated, "Let me come to you."

Lynette glanced down at the steering wheel. She didn't feel like looking Bree in the eye because she knew she had a point. Lynette had been pushing her to open up in the worst way, and now regretted her actions. "I'm sorry. I really am. I just…I wish I could make this easier for you. I come home and I have Tom, and I try to think about what I would do without him and I end up making myself sick. I just wish I could help because I don't know…" Lynette felt a few tears escape. She wasn't ashamed, just frustrated. "I don't know how you're doing this." At this point her tears had become obvious. "I'm sorry…" she began to apologize. The last thing that Bree needed was to listen to her complaints.

Bree was touched by Lynette's sincerity. Never had she been so deeply cared for. Seeing the few tears which lingered on her friends cheeks, Bree responded by instinct, and gently brushed them off. "Sweetie, it's okay. You can cry." she shifted in her seat, reaching the best position to talk to Lynette. "The truth is…I'm not 'doing' anything. I'm not dealing with Rex…I'm not even dealing with my kids." she paused, putting a few stray hairs behind her ear. "I've been doing everything in my power to escape reality, and it's ended up pulling me so far away from it, that I don't even know what I've become, Lynette. Just a few hours ago I was screaming at Gabby- forcing her out of my home. I heard myself yelling, and tried to stop…but I couldn't. I've become bitter and full of anger…I don't even know how to describe it." She heard Lynette choke back another soft cry, leading her to squeeze her hand gently. "But tonight I realized that you can't escape reality. You can put it off, but you can't escape it. And you shouldn't even try…because you don't know what you'll miss…or even worse, who or what you'll lose." Bree sat back, taking a deep breath. "So I'm ready to actually deal with Rex's death." she felt her stomach turn at the sound of the last two words. "I don't know how. But I'm ready."

Lynette, who had been too embarrassed to even look her neighbor in the eye for most of her conversation was now overcome with a sense of pride. She was proud of Bree…the woman who repressed her feelings to the point of no return now openly admitted that she was going to take on what may be the most difficult battle of her life: a battle with grief. Though fresh tears continued to fall down her cheeks, she reached out and held Bree in a tight embrace. She didn't even know why she was crying anymore- only that she couldn't stop. The two women clung to one another for what seemed like hours- each relying on the support of the other.

Eventually they separated, and Bree used a tissue to dab the last few tears from her friend's dampened cheeks. "Will you be okay?" She gently smiled. Though Lynette's anguish was nothing to smile over, she actually felt relieved from comforting someone other than herself.

Lynette nodded, assuring Bree that she was fine. She then got out of the car, fixing her hair and patting down her already wrinkled pajama pants. "Thank you." she looked over at Bree, genuinely grateful for her kindness and support.

"Of course." Bree replied, turning around and walking toward her front door. Though she knew times ahead would be progressively difficult, she felt as if she had just eased her pain- even if just a little bit.