Gwen sat with Rhys, her eyes on the television but not paying any attention to the screen. The only images in her mind were of blood, of bodies and of that man's sickly smile as he told her that it made him happy. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Turning to watch Rhys, she saw how glued in he was to the television and the program. He was so… normal.

Standing up, Gwen faked a wide smile. "I'm just going out, alright? It's a work thing."

She saw his face fall. She knew it was her fault.

But she couldn't stay here.

"Sorry…" She whispered gently, grabbing a coat and walking out before he could reply.

Gwen walked for quite a long time, taking the longest route she could think of. She should turn back; she should go back to Rhys and tell him everything. He wouldn't turn her away; she knew he wouldn't.

But she couldn't do that to him; to his normal life.

Gwen found herself in front of Owen's flat, ringing the bell that echoed throughout. This was wrong. She shouldn't be here… but she couldn't keep away. Owen opened the door, looking tired and restless; his eyes widened in slight surprise as he saw who it was, however, and he opened the door to let her in.

She should walk away.

But she doesn't.

She entered his flat, which smelled just like him, and took in her surroundings. She noticed that he was watching her and removed her coat, which he took and hung on a hook on the wall, alongside his own leather one that she saw so often. He then approached, stopping with his face just inches from hers, raising a hand to touch the side of her face for a just a moment.

And Gwen knows, in that moment, she can't walk away.

She tipped her head towards Owen's, pressing her lips to his just gently; it is nothing like the rough, hard kiss they shared before. Owen pressed her back and she hit the wall, her side stinging just slightly. Owen must have noticed because he stopped, looking concerned.

"It's nothing." The first thing she'd said to him since coming to his house, but it seemed better that way; the company was enough, his company was what she needed. She kissed him hard and he returned it, his hands sliding up inside her shirt. One of Gwen's hands is on the back of his neck, pressing his head to hers; the other around his back, pressing his body against hers.

He knew what she needed, and he pulled away, taking her hand and pulling her towards the room which she assumed was his bedroom.

---

They fell asleep a tangle of limbs, exhausted. Owen had been right; they were amazing together. It was with this thought that she fell into a deep slumber, wrapped in his protective arms.

It was few hours later that Gwen startled awake with a cry, scrambling from the bed in such a way that she was surprised Owen managed to stay asleep. She breathed heavily a few times, attempting to remove the terrifying pictures that still haunted her from the day before from her mind. She hunted through the stray clothes and found the shirt Owen had been wearing, putting it on and doing up a couple of buttons.

She put her head in her hands, unaware of Owen sitting up in bed behind, watching as she walked to the window. Watching people with their normal lives, doing whatever normal things they did. She couldn't remember what it was like to be normal anymore.

"I had a good job before this. I thought in a year or two perhaps a baby, I knew Rhys would be a good dad and I could try for desk sergeant - and well... it was all slotting into place." She was talking to herself, almost, to calm herself down. Owen was awake now; she could see his reflection in the glass, concern lining his face as he watched her.

"And then I met you lot." Words spoken with such bitterness and sorrow. Owen almost stood, almost climbed out, almost came to comfort her, but he was staring, watching, wincing at the bitterness with which she spoke.

"All these things… all these things, they're changing me - changing how I see the world." She paused, closing her eyes, breathing.

"And I can't share them with anyone." It hit her like a tonne of bricks when she said it, almost as if her realisation was only then and there. She barely registered Owen climbing out of bed, coming up behind her.

"You can now." Three words. Three words that made her melt and shiver at the same time. She had somebody – somebody who shared the pain, the torment, the terror. She turned her face to his, catching his lips and spinning in his arms, kissing him with a hunger.

Just begging him to take away the pain.

He gladly complied.