So Sunday is meant to be the day of rest but Gillian feels anything but. She sleeps tensely, (her muscles taught and aching) and lightly, waking at every odd sound or because she gets too hot, then too cold and there are awkward patches of air getting in against her skin because Cal's lying on top of the covers (though who even knows why?) Her mind does not slow down for hours and sometimes, when she wakes in the night, she's aware of her heart in her chest and the tightness of her lungs. It's like having a panic attack in her sleep and it makes her restless and uneasy. It has got to be one of the most crappiest nights of sleep she's ever had (or hasn't had, because she barely slept) and when she wakes in the morning and finally gives in to the fact that she's just not going to settle properly (and gets up for the bathroom), she feels awful. Over tired. And tearful. And maybe a little sick too.

It seems Cal's slept easily enough (good on him), because he doesn't move in the night and he doesn't stir when she gets up. She even goes to get him a blanket, because he must be seriously freezing over there, and she doesn't seem to disturb him then either (she's too nice). She goes to make herself coffee, like she normally does, and finds last night's dishes still in the sink. She puts them in the dishwasher, annoyed Cal didn't do them the previous evening (like he usually does), while also rationalising to herself that he had a guest and so would have been preoccupied (and she doesn't expect Emily to have done them).

Gillian drinks her coffee at the dining room table, feet tucked up on the seat so that she can rest her chin on her knees. She thinks. And she thinks a lot. About what she's going to do next. Obviously, it would be too much to do anything while Emily is here (but she knows where she would bury Cal's body, after she kills him) but she knows how she's going to handle things once the young woman goes back to California (which Gillian assumes will happen today sometime). The first thing Gillian is going to do is call the marshals. She knows Cal will feel betrayed or something along those lines, that she went behind is back (again) probably, but he can get stuffed, because this is her safety that she's thinking about. And as selfish as it may seem, she needs to put herself first in this instance (especially if he's not going to). She figures they'll be moved, or at least she will, because if Cal doesn't want to go with her, well then that's his choice (she doesn't want to think it, but maybe they'd be better off apart).

Worst case scenario (aside from being murdered by Jerome Willis): the marshals will wash their hands of them (which could lead to being murdered by Jerome Willis). They'll be alone and vulnerable. The agreement was that the marshals would provide them with protection, so long as they testified. And Cal has kind of spit in the face of their protection. It meant keeping quiet and not telling anyone where they were. With all the investigation that must be going on, they must have gathered enough evidence to gain a conviction without Cal and Gillian's testimony. There's a chance they might not even be needed. If their protection gets rescinded, Gillian doesn't know what she will do. Maybe going back to DC would be her best option? She has friends there, she could hide in plain sight (but accidents do happen. It makes her feel sick). She could…

"Morning," Cal grumps from the doorway, on his way to the kitchen.

Gillian's heart races; she didn't hear him approaching (and she's feeling paranoid). She unfolds her legs, finds them stiff with sitting too long, and hobbles into the kitchen after him.

"Thanks for making me coffee," Cal mutters at her as soon as she's in the room.

She was going to put her mug in the dishwasher, but she puts it down on the breakfast bar instead, surprised. "I never make you coffee," she points out, as if it is obviously no big deal.

"I know," Cal turns to face her. "I drink coffee too." His eyes are intense on hers and she can feel the air electrify.

Gillian, still stunned, takes a second to respond stiltedly, "But I'm not sure when you get up."

"Accusing me of being lazy?" Cal mumbles, looking away; the challenge dying.

Gillian lets her eyebrows drag into a frown. "I was implying I didn't want to make you coffee if it was just going to go cold," she answers. This is weird.

Cal folds his arms across his chest and Gillian has a sudden pang to be held by them. But she knows that's wrong because what this is, what she realises now, is that this is the beginning of a fight. Cal has picked many fights with her over the years, but never like this. Never quite so as antagonistic as this is. And it's unnerving. But she doesn't want to fight so she turns to leave.

"Walking out then?" Cal needles.

Gillian feels her shoulders tighten up towards her ears but keeps walking. Maybe he woke up on the wrong side of the bed, she tries to reason with herself. She'll give him five minutes to have coffee and wake up.

"Oi! I'm talking to you!" He calls after her, his tone suddenly reasonable. Gillian keeps going. She goes down the hall to their bedroom even though it would be so much easier to hide upstairs (she knows it's not fair), but she's not actually trying to run out on an argument with him (she feels pretty justified that she'll win it), she just needs a minute to gather herself before they get going. She needs to gather her strength.

Sure enough, Cal follows her down, slinging into the room in a foul aura of anger (guess her walking out annoyed him quite a bit then). Gillian started making the bed, has the blanket she got for him earlier that morning in her hands, refolding it, and she sees the exact moment he remembers that she did that for him on his face, a flash of guilt and a lessening of the anger. "Let's have it then," he says to her, but his tone is more even and when he meets her eye there's less antagonism in there than there was in the kitchen.

She thinks about playing dumb, dragging it out, not giving into whatever this is that he's creating, but she's not manipulative (it will only serve to aggravate him further, which would be the point of it). She straightens up and looks him right in the eye and says, "You obviously told Emily where we are."

Cal's chin goes up in defiance (not an easy feat when he's leaning forward on crutches). "Yes," he says simply. The 'so what?' bit is entirely implied.

"Even though you know it's dangerous for us?" She tries to keep her tone even, she really does try, but it does hint at panic.

"Oh come on Gillian," Cal scoffs. "If they were going to launch an attack against us they probably would have done it by now."

"So not the point," she responds evenly, getting a grip on herself (refusing to believe that that could possibly be true).

"What is the point? I put your life at risk?" He's antagonistic; a narrowing of his eyes and a sneer on his lips.

Gillian feels that frustrated nauseous feeling again. Why is it he's not seeing the problem with this? (Surely he's not that callous). "Yes," she shoots back. "You did. And you don't even care that you've done it!"

Cal half rolls his eyes. "Or are you just annoyed we didn't get to finish yesterday morning," he goes on, speaking over the last of her words.

Gillian throws the blanket at him. It falls well short but she imagines it hitting him square in the face (and maybe knocking him off balance). She wants to go over and kick the crutches out from beneath him, and it suddenly occurs to her that he's standing in front of the doorway, blocking any escape she might have wanted to make. Bastard.

"This isn't about that and you know it," she jabs a finger at him, her anger ratcheting up quickly. "We weren't supposed to tell anyone where we are…"

"Yeah, yeah," Cal cuts in again. "It's Em. She's not going to post it on Facebook."

"Not the point!" Gillian raises her voice to speak over him as well. Cal doesn't talk over her to annoy her, he just does it because he's rude. It's still irritating though.

"You're being completely unreasonable," Cal tells her, suddenly more relaxed now that she's the one getting agitated (it makes him look good when she's losing it).

"Unreasonable?" Gillian's eyes widen in surprise. "Are you kidding me Cal? Jerome Willis has all the means necessary to have us killed."

"We don't even know that. He hasn't made a threat against us."

"He's made hundreds of threats against everyone else who's crossed him," Gillian exasperatedly gestures. "We know he's had people killed."

Cal gives that annoying half roll of his eyes again; dismissal and it makes Gillian feel disgusting inside; worthless. She comes around the bed and stops a few feet away from him. Her left hand is bunched in a fist at her side but neither of them notice. She sees Cal shift the balance of his weight, ready for physicality of some sort (she did try to throw a blanket at him. It might not be beyond her to shove him). "I can't believe you're being so…" The correct adjective escapes her and Cal smirks. "About this," she finishes anyway.

"So what?" Cal challenges. "Having a level-headed reaction to this?"

Gillian wants to punch him. "For God's sake Cal." (She wanted to swear at him.) "Can you at least think about what you've done to Emily?"

"I haven't done anything to Emily," Cal quickly points out, his tone hard and his eyes narrowing slightly again.

"You've put her in danger too." She sees him blanch, hears the retort before he can voice it: I haven't done anything of the sort.

"You told her where we are. If Willis really wants to get to us, he can now go through her! What if he's had her followed?"

Just for a second, it looks like the colour has washed out of Cal's face. Surely, surely, he would have realised that before now. Surely, surely, it does not take her pointing out to him to make him see it. "You put her in danger by giving her that knowledge Cal. And you put me in danger by letting someone else know where we are," Gillian starts off reasonably. "You obviously don't care about your own life, but this isn't just about you!"

"He wouldn't," Cal starts.

"College kids go missing all the time. People go missing all the time," Gillian tells him. "They just disappear. You know that!" He looks scared.

"You're being paranoid," Cal utters.

"Fine," Gillian huffs. She goes to walk around him but he doesn't move out of the way. They scuffle a little on the threshold. Gillian refrains from pushing him (which she might have done if he didn't have a broken leg) but does try to barge past. Cal holds his ground as much as possible, until he's threatened with losing his balance, and then hops a foot away. Gillian escapes to the hallway and Cal follows her anyway.

"What are you going to do then?" He talks to her back.

Gillian stops in the hallway next to the stairs and faces him. "I'm going to call the marshals."

"Right now? Not sure they keep weekend office hours."

"God can you just stop?" Gillian blurts.

"Stop what?" Cal asks, just on the edge of innocence. He knows he's winding her up and that annoys her even more. She's on the verge of screaming at him, to wake the hell up and realise that this is serious, but she thinks that would just give him more satisfaction. Since he broke his leg, he's turned into a bigger asshole (or maybe it's the witness protection thing, but Gillian's not in the mood for being reasonable).

"I'm going to call the marshals and if they want to move me then they can. I agreed to testify and I didn't break protocol," Gillian's aware of her voice raising in volume anyway, despite her efforts to keep it under control. But she's cut off by a knock at the door. Her heart pounds sickeningly in her throat and she turns to the door, just a few meters away, as if she's scared of it. Cal goes quiet behind her, and still, an eeriness settles between them. No one knocks on their door. Unless it's the neighbours (that one time). Or the marshals.

"It's Em," Cal says quietly.

And now she can include Emily on that list.

Gillian looks back at him. He's lost his arrogance from before (he does love a good fight), might even look a little defeated. Gillian wonders what he was hoping to achieve from arguing with her. He hasn't convinced her of his case (and she might not have convinced him of hers either), but he doesn't look contrite. "Get dressed," she tells him flatly (because he's in underwear and a t-shirt; not a good look at all) and goes for the door (because she sleeps in pyjamas).

She gives Emily a welcoming smile and steps back to let the young woman in. "Good morning," she greets.

"I didn't get you out of bed did I?" Emily asks, appraising her attire not-so-subtly.

"No, of course not," Gillian says (suddenly self-conscious of the fact that she's not wearing a bra), but it must be mid-morning by now (it's a sunny day out there). "We were just having… a lazy morning. Your Dad's getting dressed." Gillian offers Emily a hot drink (she declines) and they go to sit in the living room (Emily on the couch, Gillian in the armchair).

For a second, Gillian's panicked: what is she going to talk about? She's gotten so used to not talking about anything important with someone who isn't Cal (and let's face it, they don't really talk about anything important either). But Emily jumps in straight, "So what's it like going back to high school?"

Gillian smiles. "Well I'd like to say it's like I never left… but that's not true at all."

Emily grins back. "I was so glad to leave high school. College is so much better. Hey," Emily gets serious. "Can I ask you something? Before Dad comes in?" She lowers her volume so she's practically whispering.

"Sure," Gillian says softly.

"Is he really ok? It's just a broken arm and leg? There's not something else?"

"No," Gillian shakes her head but it feels like a lie. Of course there's something else. There's always something else. But injury wise, as far as she can tell, that's it for Cal. Just the broken bones. (And it means something significant that Emily asked. Does it mean she doesn't trust her father either?)

"Talking about me?" Cal asks as he swings into the room.

"Paranoid?" Emily asks him.

Cal smirks but doesn't take a seat. "You had breakfast yet?" He asks his daughter.

"Actually no," Emily answers.

Cal looks over at Gillian and she feels suddenly warm (she hates the part where they all pretend afterwards that nothing has happened. It feels so false and undignified). "Gill?" His tone is cautious.

"Sure," she agrees with a tight smile.

"Gonna need a helper though," Cal speaks to his daughter again. She gets up from the couch and waits for him to leave the room first and Gillian is alone again. She waits a beat, can hear their voices in the kitchen, and gets up herself. She goes upstairs to get dressed but ends up sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at the carpet. She feels tired; there's something about Cal that exhausts her. She doesn't think she can keep doing this. She resolves to call the marshals as soon as Emily leaves (even though maybe Emily should be here for this, now that she's involved). Part of her thinks she just might be better off without Cal.

Cal and Emily make breakfast, eggs and toast and baked beans (of course he has some in the cupboard). They make sweet tea with honey, like they used to on lazy Sundays and it reminds him of being home when things were normal and familiar and not so hard. He has to admit, Gillian's being incredibly pleasant given the situation (the witness protection thing he violated, and also that he tried to pick a fight with her about an hour ago), and it makes him feel two things: the first is a kind of warmth in his chest that makes him want to reach out to touch her arm or hold her hand, some form of affection (he's not sure if that's a reward for him or her). And the other is shame: he can be a real idiot.

The fight thing, he knows that's a defence mechanism of his. Attack before he can be attacked, and all that (particularly because he's small). And it's not the first time he's done that to Gillian (and it's not the first time she's been right in an argument and tried to shut it down before it escalated into saying stupid things merely to hurt the other) but this is the first time he actually feels quite awful about it. Yeah he kind of knew it wasn't a good idea to be emailing people with their address. But he supposes he didn't quite think about how it would affect Gillian. She was right though. He has put his daughter (and them) at risk because everything he's read about the real Jerome Willis is that the man is a complete thug and worse, he's been so very good at covering it all up (until now). The guy shows psychopathic markers. So yeah, Gillian was right and Cal is sorry and he loves his daughter, he does, but he half wishes she wasn't there right now, so he can talk to Gillian. He loves her too. He owes her two big apologies (and oh, then there's the Group emails he's yet to confess to) and he feels the need to take her aside and do it right now. (But the thought also makes him feel sick, because he's a coward. And he can't admit when he was wrong).

Gillian comes down for breakfast (and she's so painfully sexy in such an easy way, in casual jeans and a raglan shirt that Cal feels aghast with thinking about her in that way when he basically poked her with a stick for no other reason than to ease the feelings he has difficulty dealing with) and plays nice. She and Emily talk about silly things, gossip and TV, things Cal doesn't keep up with, can't fathom really, and he's distracted. They sit around and watch a movie, he and Em on the couch, Gillian in the armchair. She's not trying to be distant on purpose (this is no disappearing act like yesterday) but he misses her. She's right there and he misses her. He's trying to deny the fact that he might have pushed the boundaries too far this time. She always forgives him (and she will again). He'll make it ok once more (he always does). But something feels different and he wonders if she feels it too (does Emily even notice the tension, because she doesn't act like it)?

The other thing about Emily being there? Cal can't spend all his time on the tablet, waiting for Ria to mail him back. For a while, he forgets all about it. And then guiltily he realises, that despite the big fight with Gillian that morning, and the sinking feeling of having to confess to the marshals what he's done (and confess to Gillian about emailing Ria in the first place), Cal really wants to know what the other woman has to say. There's a really good chance he and Gillian are going to end up even further removed from everything. It's his last link to his real life. Which gets him thinking about going home again; gets him feeling that maybe he's not so sorry after all. He was going to call the marshals on Monday anyway, to talk about work (or more accurately, to demand what was happening with the investigation and if there was something he could do to move it along etc).

with the investigation and if there was something he could do to move it along etc).

Emily stays for dinner. Gillian cooks. Cal thinks that might have been his chance to get her alone, but it's hard to do that when he's on crutches. Every time he even moves Emily's looking over at him and asking if he's ok, and is there anything she can get him? At first, it's endearing, then it becomes annoying, and the fact that he won't see her again for a long time is what stops him from snapping at her. He doesn't do well with cabin fever. Even with other people around (though he seems to be less grumpy when it's just Gillian. Always Gillian. She's already figured out how far to push him and when to back off. Which just makes him feel more melancholy. He feels like he's pretending all the time now).

After they eat and Emily says she has to go, Cal almost feels relieved. Which is an awful way to feel about his kid, but he's starting to give up on being sure of how he feels about anything anymore. He hugs his daughter goodbye by the door. She says she'll call in first thing tomorrow before her flight for a final farewell. They could have breakfast together again. He likes that idea, tells her he'll see her then (and that he loves her). When he closes the door, he realises Gillian has gone. He looks up the stairs but can't see any lights on, and she's not in the living room. He tries the bedroom and he's right, she's there. Suddenly alone, he feels daunted and unsure.

"I'm going to go to bed now," Gillian speaks and Cal realises he's reached the doorway and stopped, lost in thought. Gillian's in her pyjamas; Cal notices a book in her hands as she stands by the bed. She's not quite meeting his eye and he doesn't like that (but at least she hasn't gone to hide upstairs). "Early start for me tomorrow too."

"Right," Cal says insipidly. He does a shuffle-hop to turn on the spot and goes to brush his teeth. He has to go back down the hallway to put out all the lights in the rest of the house, but he's gotten the hang of the crutches now and so even though it takes effort, gets his heart rate up, it doesn't seem so dramatic. Back in the bedroom, Gillian is leaning against the head of the bed, a pillow in her back and the book resting against her propped up knees. Her eyes flicker up as Cal comes back in but she doesn't speak and neither does he. He strips down and makes his way into bed, remembering this time to peel back the covers first (he notices Gillian helps a little when she thinks he's not looking). When he finally settles Gillian says she'll finish the page but he tells her no rush. It's all so very polite and careful. It's not entirely comfortable, but they've had worse silences. Cal wishes he thought to bring the tablet. He has to simply lie there and wait. And stew.

A minute later Gillian puts out the light. She puts down her book first and settles, leaning over for the switch. Cal gets a perfect view of the small of her back and fights a sudden impulse to touch her. He feels like he's living in two worlds. A world where touching her is possible is weighed down by the casts on his body. The world where he doesn't hurt her is shattered by his fallibilities. He can't seem to help himself. He keeps fighting against this new, this possibility of what he could have, as if he doesn't quite believe it's there, like he can disregard it because it's just a mirage. He tries to blend the two worlds together, but could quite possibly end up with the worst of both (it would not be the first time he's stitched up a relationship, but maybe for the first time it feels like something he wouldn't get over).

When Gillian goes still in the darkness Cal's heart starts to beat faster, that tension of knowing he has something to say to her, something important, but he's also scared chicken shit. They're silent for a good few minutes, which feel like hours. I'm sorry goes around and around Cal's mind. He tells himself to just blurt it out but ultimately, he can't do it.

"I'll call the marshals tomorrow."

Gillian is silent from the other side of the bed, but Cal can feel the shift in energy between them. "You will?" She asks but her tone is flat. Not disbelieving, not astonished. More emphasis on you. Like maybe she's just checking he's for real.

"I will," he repeats.

"I can do it," she offers quietly.

"I'll do it," Cal repeats. And now that they're talking it seems much easier. "You were right. About Em. I shouldn't have done that."

Gillian rustles next to him.

"I'll talk to her before she leaves tomorrow. Tell her to be careful. And…" He doesn't know what lese.

Gillian still doesn't say anything.

"Is that it?" Cal challenges, because he can't handle the silence. Was never good at the silent treatment. Used to drive him nuts (when Zoe did it).

"Is that it what?" Gillian asks.

"Am I meant to say something else?"

"I don't know Cal," Gillian says but not in that 'if you don't know I'm not about to tell you way'. She says it like she means it. Cal's not sure if he should be frustrated with her or not. "Do what you think is best."

"Don't say that," Cal snips. "I'm trying to make it right here."

"For me or for you?"

Cal's surprised, so he misses his opportunity to speak again (he thought she would be all grateful that he was giving in to her). Gillian goes on: "Look Cal, I don't care. Do what you want."

Cal frowns to himself in the darkness. "I'm sorry?"

"Was that an apology?"

Wow. Snide Gillian. He's not sure he's had to cope with snide Gillian before.

"No," he tells her. "I'm not sorry." Which is kind of true (but also not true). But he says it purely to be defiant. And all those thoughts about pushing her too far away evaporate in light of antagonism.

"Way to make it right," Gillian says quietly.

"That's not what I meant," Cal sighs.

"That is exactly what you meant."

"I already said you were right."

"Cal," she starts but he cuts her off.

"I'm sorry Gill," he repeats, and he says it loudly and with meaning, so she can hear him (because she doesn't seem to be able to hear him). "I'll put it right tomorrow." He sounds contrite, even to himself and he just wants it to be enough. He doesn't want to fight with her, he doesn't want her to rub it in, but he also doesn't want her to give up on him. He wants the apology to be enough (because god knows he hasn't said it abundantly; he can't even remember the last time). He doesn't want her to give up on him. He wants her to see that he's trying and to cut him some slack. Like she usually does.

Gillian is quiet a moment longer. And then, "Let me know when you've called them."

"All right."

"Cal?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we going to do this all over again?"

He wants to say 'yes probably', but he knows that's not what she wants to hear. And he knows that isn't what he should do. "No," he says and he means it but it makes his chest feel funny, like grief has settled in it and he might finally be accepting that his life will never be the same again.

"I promise you, it won't mean never seeing Emily again. We'll find a better way to make that happen."

Cal turns his head towards her in the dark, and somehow she's ended up lying close to him. She reaches out her hand to his chest, rubs a spot over his heart, and he wants to feel comforted but it feels patronising. It feels like she wins and he loses. And he knows that will kill them eventually.