Notes – I want to thank the people who took the time to review this last time I posted. It's a big things for me to post, because it is easily the darkest thing that I've ever written and it is important to me to hear what you think about this – so thank you!

Please read and review.

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The bottle of sleeping pills was mesmerising. Shauna was infinitely sure that it could put her to sleep without her even having to open it – let alone actually put one of the pills in her mouth. Not that she was going to do that. Take one of these pills? Not likely.

Their purpose of the drugs was to put her to sleep, which was not the problem. The problem was the drugged part. Shauna was, by necessity, a very light sleeper. If she took the pills then that would leave her vulnerable in a way she could not afford.

However, they had been prescribed for her by a Manticore doctor because of her little fainting episode. Anyone would have thought she'd had a major heart attack, the way they had been acting. So she had collapsed from exhaustion and hypoglycaemia? Big deal. Apparently though, it had been a big deal. She had been ordered to take two weeks leave and been prescribed sleeping pills and a health shop of vitamins. Then there were the mandatory sessions with a Manticore shrink.

Still, there was no way she was taking the sleeping pills.

With a movement so sudden that Christopher jumped – they were in his apartment – she stood and stalked into the bathroom, unscrewed the cap and upended the bottle into the toilet. She pressed the flush button and watched – with pleasure – as most of the pills disappeared in a flood of water. Only a few remained when the bowl stilled, and they had already begun to dissolve.

"Why did you do that? They were prescribed to you for a reason." Chris' voice was harsh with anger. Since he had brought her back here he had barely spoken to her. She had not been overly bothered. Angry about what had been forced on her, and at herself for being so weak, she had taken a childish satisfaction at being as curt to him as he was to her.

While she was not angry with him, per se, he was a convenient target. He wasn't truly angry with her either, just very worried. Possibly angry with himself. So they were taking it out on each other. Mostly in a silent manner.

Despite it all, though, he was taking good care of her. Well, he probably thought he was. In her current state of mind, she found it annoying. Like dinner: a fish casserole with rice and some vegetables. He had eaten separately, then sat down and made her eat. Watched every last mouthful. Although it was more than she wanted – much more – he did not overfeed her, give her more food than her starved body could handle, nor was the food too rich. Still, utterly unimpressed by his solicitude, she had taken her time, eating each bite as slowly as she could. It had taken her two hours.

Shauna had hoped to put him off, but he appeared undeterred. When the situation escalated to a shouting match – well, shouting on her part, he kept his voice cold and even – he informed her that until she was eating normally again he was going to watch her eat.

There was no coffee in the apartment. The doctor said she should 'cut back' on her caffeine intake. Chris had interpreted this to mean no coffee whatsoever. She spent two days in the Manticore infirmary being 'checked out'. She had been allowed no coffee there either, and then had arrived at Chris' to find he had removed all traces of it. When she asked, he offered her tea. Herbal tea. No caffeine.

"Oh, so you want me in a drugged sleep, is that right? You want me where anyone can creep up and kill me? Because that's what happens you know, I—" she broke off realizing what she had nearly said.

"You what? You've killed someone like that, have you? So you would know. I imagine you do." He snapped. All right, so they were going to drag this all out tonight. Fun.

"I'm a trained killer, you suddenly have a problem with this?" She had never killed like that. Drugs, whether used against others or yourself, were a weakness. Shauna had a certain amount of pride. She may have discovered weaknesses inside her that she never knew existed, but she'd be damned if she'd go around creating more of them.

"What I object to is you trying to kill yourself!"

The sudden apparent change of subject surprised her – were they even on the same page here? "Excuse me?" Kill herself?

"Have you looked in the mirror recently? You're a walking skeleton. A zombie. You barely eat. Do you even sleep? You aren't a god, Shauna, you aren't even a transgenic – yes, I know what they're capable of – so what, exactly, do you think you're trying to achieve?" Instead of being angry, the last few words came out as ragged a plea for understanding both for her and for him.

She didn't have an answer for him. What could she say? Every word was true. Shauna knew what she looked like, how she felt. Maybe killing herself was going too far, but how far? She felt like she was falling apart piece by piece.

Not knowing what else to do, but needing to escape the agonised look in Chris' eyes, she spun and all but ran out of the bathroom, out the apartment, into the night. In his eyes, she had seen caring and love all mixed up with pain – no one had ever looked at her like that and it was too much.

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Chris watched her go, not knowing how to deal with this any more than he had the last time this had happened to someone he loved. He'd failed then, was he going to fail, again? Fail someone else he loved so much?

The crack of a gun…a body falling…the sharp, powerful smell of blood…nothing he could do…

Not again.

He couldn't let it happen again.

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