Disclaimer: I do not own The 6th Day.

Note: I finally feel I have a rough idea of where this is going so I can connect all the little dots. In this chapter, we get to see Sentia in a more personal, less selfless light. She is human, you know. ; )

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"So, Johnny, I hear you ventured into the great outdoors earlier," Mike commented from his seat.

Johnny merely nodded. Though he had agreed to let the other man in, he hadn't thought he would have to put up with his idle chatter. Usually, Mike's visits consisted of sitting, asking some sort of favor, and then promising to repay him when Johnny gave his consent.

"You weren't looking your best, man. Got the press going nuts. 'Elusive ex-football star reappears.'" Mike looked over at Sentia when he finished, enjoying her deer-in-the-headlights expression.

"What are you talking about, Mike?" she demanded in a quiet, aggressive voice.

"Oh, you don't know? Huh. It's all over the news."

Sentia narrowed her eyes, daring him to continue.

"You should check it out, Johnny," the red headed man said, not looking away from Sentia.

Johnny looked between the two, and he could've sworn he heard a growl come from deep within Sentia's throat. He caught the woman's eye and shrugged in a 'why not' sort of way.

Sentia crossed her arms, turning her head so she wouldn't see either of them.

Mike grinned when he heard Johnny's sigh and he reached for the remote. He selected the news channel he knew would be playing the story repeatedly throughout the day. They had to wait a few minutes before the woman on the screen declared that video footage of Johnny Phoenix, beloved quarterback, had been acquired at a local Italian restaurant.

"And here it is," she announced. Mike's smugness only increased when he saw Sentia looking back at the screen, obviously worried.

The crystal-clear footage showed Johnny sitting at the table, the waitress staring at him in annoyance. Then Sentia walked into view. There was no sound. The cameraman must have been standing outside. After a couple minutes of the two of them sitting there, mouths moving in silent conversation, the newscaster appeared again. "Our informant made it known to us beyond any doubt that the woman sitting next to Johnny Phoenix is…"

"Mike, turn it off," Sentia ordered.

Mike responded with a grin. "Why?" he asked innocently.

"Turn it off!"

"Make me!"

Johnny wasn't paying any attention to them. He felt that this might be an opportunity to find out a little bit about Sentia's life away from him. He was watching the program with intense interest.

"… Sentia Cedrell. Apparently, she is an ex-employee of…"

"Mike!" Sentia yelled it so loud that Johnny missed a bit of what was said.

"… though it is not known what her current occupation is. It is suspected, however, that she is unemployed and is held up financially by Phoenix. Cedrell was, after all…"

Sentia did the only thing she could; she grappled with Mike for the remote. When that failed, she tried to get up to take care of the problem manually, but he pulled her back, shoving her into the seat beside him on the couch. She knew what the reporter was going to say, and she knew Johnny wasn't ready for it. In all honesty, she wasn't ready for him to know, either. The fact that Mike now knew was bad enough, but Johnny… So she did what she had to. She screamed at the top of her lungs.

Both Johnny and Mike covered their ears with their hands to escape the deafening noise. Sentia stopped, opening her eyes to look at the two men who were staring at her as if she were insane.

"What was that?" Mike exclaimed angrily, lowering his arms half way, as if he expected her to start up again at a moment's notice.

Johnny just stared at her, curious and confused. He had lowered his hands onto the couch.

"…before that tragic accident."

Sentia had been smirking in Mike's direction, but at those words, her eyes shifted to Johnny, and upon seeing the renewed dullness in his eyes, they jumped once again to the huge screen.

The words of the woman reciting the story were lost in the vastness of the silence as all three stared at the corner of the television, where a clip had started to play. Mike was watching it with morbid interest, a grin plastered to his face. Sentia sat in horror, not able to take her eyes from the scene unfolding before her. Tears formed in her eyes when the players on the field scattered.

Johnny, however, bore absolutely no expression. He had thought the day was good. He thought he had made the best of it despite the shaky start. He thought he had done some good; had started to wake up. Obviously he was wrong. This was not a good day. This was a cruel joke. Johnny hadn't been awake. He had only been dreaming. All the goodness and emotion and accomplishment he had felt that day had been nothing more than a dream. This, though… this was waking up.

At least, that's what the little voice in his head hissed. But through all the attempts of his mind to drag him back into his depression, he realized something. This was waking up. This was waking up because he did have a good day. This was waking up because he now new that he was strong enough to resist the pull of despair.

The sound that brought him out of his thoughts was a sob coming from beside him. He didn't know what had caused Sentia's tears this time, but he assumed his expression must have changed while he thought. When he looked at her, though, she seemed to be completely oblivious to everything that was surrounding her. Her wet eyes were glued to the screen, and her hand covered her mouth. This was wrong. Sentia never cried. Sure, she had cried that morning, but any other person would have crumbled under the weight she carried long ago. Now, she looked horrified. She looked like her world was crashing down around her.

CRUNCH.

Johnny heard the crunch, but he didn't see himself falling. He saw Sentia's face fall, eyes dying, body shaking. He didn't see his own lifeless body on the stretcher. He didn't hear the reporter arguing with the man in the van. He did see Sentia get to her feet, raise her hand and slap Mike as hard as she could across his face, and then run into the bathroom, slamming the door. He did hear her emptying her stomach into the toilet. He did hear the wails ripping from her throat. For the first time, he heard her crying for her own broken heart.

He turned to Mike, who was holding a hand to his stinging cheek, and said, "You should probably go, Mike." His voice sounded menacing to his own ears.

"Right," Mike murmured, glancing at Johnny. "Tell Sentia we need to talk."

Johnny gave no sign to show whether he would or wouldn't tell the woman, so Mike just nodded and got to his feet, leaving the apartment with more than one glance at the bathroom, as if he feared Sentia would suddenly appear to strike him again.

When the door shut behind him, Johnny got slowly to his feet, completely ignoring the still rambling woman on the screen. He walked meaningfully over to the bathroom door. Yes, he was awake. This was waking up because he found he had a purpose… And all that was standing between Johnny and that purpose was the bathroom door.