Reba pulled her eyes away from Brock's to look at their hands. She couldn't think straight when he was around, everything she knew she should say went out the window and she either became this giddy teeager who was madly in love with a boy or a bratty toddler who just wanted to get their own way. She had no middle ground when it came to Brock, she desperately needed to figure out a way to get her point across without jumping him or hitting him.

She bit her lip and rocked back and forth on the step, composing herself. Brock had hit her with some hard truths and she was feeling ashamed of the way she'd acted over the past 12 hours. Not that he would ever find that bit out.

Finally, she looked up at him, she could see the hurt and pain in his eyes. He was right, this round and round was getting neither of them anywhere and it was time for her to step up and be the woman he loved so much, instead of this jealous person who kept snapping at him every other day. It wasn't fair to either of them for her to cut the relationship off at the knees before it even had a chance to grow.

Brock had been working so hard these past months on himself, she knew that much. He was trying so hard to be a better man and she just kept shutting him down.

Reba took a deep breath and squeezed his hand. "Of course I trust you, Brock."

"Then what's the problem Reba? Why'd you react that way when you saw Lana at the condo? I wasn't even there."

"I don't know."

"There has to be something goin' on."

"I don't know, Brock. I'm expectin' an earthquake or a tornado to sweep through and ruin everything. That's what always happens. Just when I think things are settling down some avalanche of bullshit comes pouring down on me and I'm so tired of it."

"Reba, if you're expecting me to mess up, I have news for you. I already have. I've already done the worst possible thing. But if I've learnt anything from all the mistakes that I've made, we've made. It's that you and I can overcome any obstacle we're faced with. We've been through it all already, Babe. There is nothing left this world can throw at us that we can't beat. Not if we really want it."

"I just-" Reba looked down at their hands and took a deep breath. "I'm so scared I'm gonna lose you."

"Honey, no." he took another step up and pulled her into his arms, enveloping her tiny frame.

Reba buried her face in his chest, she had no need or want to fight his embrace so she simply wrapped her arms around his middle, gripping his shirt firmly in her hands, she held him tight with all the strength she had. Her heart ached to be close to him, her entire being wanted to be with him. Could it really be as simple as he said? As long as they were both in it for the long haul that they'd be okay?

For what seemed like the longest time they simply stood on the step, both clinging to the other for comfort and support. Something they hadn't done in years. Finally, Reba looked up at him, her eyes were glassy and she was so close to the edge, she desperately needed him to pull her back.

"Brock-" her voice cracked and she gripped his shirt a little tighter.

"I know," he heard her sniff as he held her. He knew she was about to break but he was going to be here every step of the way. He was determined to prove himself to her.

Brock felt her shoulders start to shake and his shirt began to dampen as she finally let out all the emotion she'd been holding in. She'd let her walls down enough for him to be her strength for the first time in a long time she allowed herself to need him.

He could feel her body pressing against his, she needed support. She was exhausted and he knew her like he thought he did, he'd be willing to bet his practice on her not having slept a wink last night. So, he knelt down and scooped her into his arms, her face remaining buried in his shoulder as he carried her up the stairs to her room.

"I got you, Red." he spoke softly as he pushed her bedroom door open. Reba clung to his shirt, as Brock carried her across the room after kicking the door closed as quietly as he could, he sat on the edge of the bed and cradled her in his arms, while he kicked his shoes off. "Hold on to me." He whispered as he awkwardly reach around her to take her shoes off.

She cried, for an hour she held onto him and just let it all out. Brock had finally managed to move them to the top of her bed, he'd awkwardly pulled the covers up and held her as she wrapped her body around him like an anaconda squeezing its prey. Except she wasn't trying to squeeze him to death she was squeezing him closer, like she couldn't move without him.

Brock traced her spine gently, she hiccuped every now and then and he wanted to offer her water but, he knew she wouldn't let him up. So he sat there, holding the strongest woman he had ever known. The epitome of an independent, self sufficient woman who needed her man. Who needed him.