They all got a bowl of ice cream, including Tom. He was relieved when he saw that Rachel wasn't acting weird. He thought she might because of the conversation with his kids.

After they did that, Tom told the kids to go brush their teeth and get ready for bed. Sam and Ashley asked Rachel if she would read a bedtime story.

"Kids, Rachel needs her rest. She's had a very long day. I'll read you one", Tom told his children.

"Dad, you're not a very good storyteller", Ashley told her father. "Can you, Rachel? Please?"

"No, Ashley", Tom said. "She needs her rest."

Ashley's face turned into a pout and Rachel felt really bad for her.

Rachel smiled. "Alright, Alright. I will do it. I'm not even that tired. I had five days to rest."

The kids screamed "yay" and went to get ready for bed.

"Maybe you can watch me read, so I can give you a lesson in reading bedtime stories", Rachel teased Tom.

Tom looked really hurt. "They never told me before that they didn't like how I read."

Rachel smiled. "Kids will be kids. Don't worry, they still love you" she told him.

"Thanks, Rachel", he said.

She smiled and went to their room; Ashley and Sam had to share a room, so their grandfather could have one.

"Alright, kids. What am I reading?", she asked them.

Sam held up "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn". "I know that we can't finish it tonight, but you can read it to us a little each night until we do.

Rachel sat on a chair between their beds and read until they fell asleep. The chair was rough to sit in with her injuries, but she did it for the kids.

Rachel made sure they were tucked in good enough before she left the room. She left to go find Tom. She went to the living room to find him fast asleep on the couch, and she wasn't about to wake him up; he looked so peaceful. Rachel stood there and looked at him for a few seconds before she made her way slowly up the steps and into Tom's room.

She turned the light on and looked around.

"It's just a room. It's just a bed", she told herself, but was it really just a room? Was it really just a bed? This was the place Tom and Darien had their greatest memories. This bed, this room, those kids, and memories were the only things left of Darien.

"Get ahold of yourself", Rachel told herself. It wasn't like Tom and Rachel were sleeping together. Tom was downstairs and she was in his room.

"It's just a damn bed. A mattress on four posts", she told herself.

All Rachel had to do now was change her clothes. This presented another problem. She needed help taking off her shirt. While she was at the hospital, a nurse helped her. There weren't any nurses at Tom's house, just an older Chandler, and a younger one, who she could possibly have feelings for. Nope. She wasn't going to go there. Her feelings would just have to shut the hell up and leave her alone.

Rachel tried and tried to get her shirt off, but she couldn't. Then, she tried to sleep in the shirt she had on, but it just wasn't comfortable.

Rachel said, "Dammit" and let out a big sigh. She was going to have to get Tom to help her.

Rachel made her way down the steps and into the living room where Tom was sleeping. She hated to wake him up because he hadn't had any sleep for the past week. Rachel was about to tap him on the shoulder when a thought came to her mind: I'll just cut the damn thing off.

She rushed up the stairs (as fast as she possibly could), so Tom wouldn't know she was down there. Rachel picked up the scissors and began to cut her shirt. She got a more comfortable shirt and was about to lay down when she heard someone knocking at the door.

Rachel already knew who it was: Tom.

She opened the door and he asked her "Rachel, are you okay? I was laying there when I heard you coming down the steps. You were close to tapping me on the shoulder, but you didn't. Do you need anything?"

Damn. How did he know everything?

"Umm no", Rachel told him. "It's alright. I got it."

Tom looked around and saw the scissors and the cut-up shirt in the floor.

"I couldn't get my shirt off, and I didn't want to wake you", she admitted. "I improvised."

"Rachel, next time, ask me for help. I don't care if I'm asleep. You don't need to cut your shirts up. It's a shame about this one", he said as he pointed to the one in the floor. "I really liked that one."

What was that supposed to mean? It was just a dark pink blouse, and Rachel didn't think he liked it because it was pink. Thomas Chandler didn't look like the pink-wearing kind.

"If you're worried about being embarrassed, don't worry. I promise I won't look", Chandler told her.

Rachel wasn't really sure if that was meant to be a joke or what. She looked at him, but his expression was unclear to her.

"Thank you", she told him.

Tom knew she wouldn't ask for help. She would fall on her face before she would ask for any help.

"Rachel, I'm serious. If you need help, ask, no matter how humiliating it is. That's what I'm here for."

Really? Rachel just thought she was there because she needed a place to stay, not for help.

"Okay, okay, okay. I will. Good night, Captain Chandler."

"Night", he replied.

Rachel laid down on the bed and cursed. The damn bed smelled exactly like him; that man smell that Rachel couldn't quite describe, but it smelt so good. As if Tom wasn't already swimming through her head, his scent was too.

"Great", Rachel muttered. It was going to be a long night.