Will stood in stunned silence. Yes, he had expected her to snap eventually, but with anger, not this. The way she was staring at him as if she wanted him to fix everything made him on edge. There was no way to fix this. "Magnus," his voice was pleading; he reached out to run a hand down her arm.

She stepped away suddenly flinging her arm out to remove his hand, "Don't…touch me." Her eyes were locked with his. "I just…need a minute."

"Alright," he didn't move any closer, just stayed near to her staring out the window while his mind churned.

It was a good fifteen minutes before she spoke and her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "I can't do this. Not now."

"You can't or you won't?" When she didn't answer him, he continued. "You are the bravest and strongest woman I have ever known, Magnus. You are not someone to back down in fear, yet that is exactly what you are doing. So why now?"

Magnus knew the answer to both his questions. She wouldn't do this now. She couldn't ever do this until she was sure that John would not come back, but he always came back. It was the dance they had been playing since the beginning. He would always come back; there would never be an end to it. Her eyes slid to his face and he knew in an instant why she thought she couldn't do this now: she was still afraid.

Every time John showed up he would see her withdraw, protect herself, harden against everything. He would make nasty comments about the man, question her allowances of John's antics, and throw her decisions in her face: now he knew why she took it. She was scared that John would not hurt just her. If he hurt her she could handle that, she had always handled that, but if he hurt someone else under her care? That was a different story all together.

"We can take care of ourselves and we can take care of each other. You don't need to protect us." He held her line of sight so she would know he was completely serious.

"Oh, if only that were the truth," she shook her head sorrowfully, "You've never seen him in one of his rages. You don't know what he is capable of."

"Then tell me."

"Those women, the ones he killed as the Ripper…he slaughtered them like cattle." She could see James performing an autopsy, her hands assisting but shaking while she handed him items. She hadn't been able to do it herself and James had insisted on helping. There wasn't much left inside the body, just about every organ, it seemed, had been pulled out through the gashes. Magnus looked up to see Will watching her closely, "It's not something I like to remember."

"Understandable."

"The night of the third murder was the night that James decided to confront John about his actions toward me. I didn't know at the time that James had planned it. I didn't even know they had spoken until weeks later. James and John had a 'sit down,' least that's what James told me. I believe it to have been a much more violent affair." Will's eyebrow rose in question and Magnus tilted her head to the side, "James had a broken nose the next morning." She looked back out the window and a few more minutes passed by. "I won't do this now."

"Do you have a choice? You won't be able to go on active duty. We can't take that risk and you know it."

"Yeah, maybe I'll take some time off. Go on a vacation."

"I'd rather you didn't." The look she gave him in response said he better explain something or there was going to be hell to pay. "You said yourself earlier you don't relax well. So perhaps, relaxing should be the last thing you do."

She nodded, maybe he was right, but she didn't want to give him that satisfaction just yet. She needed to keep him on edge a bit, make sure he hadn't figured her all out. "Thank you, Will. I think I'll take my leave for now."

"Magnus." She stopped her motion, her hand already on the handle to the door and her face aimed down to the ground. It was so unlike her. "If you have another dream, come get me will you? It's what I'm here for."

Even though he had said it, he was thoroughly surprised when she showed up at his door at three in the morning. Her hair was disheveled, dark circles under her eyes that were bare of the mask she painted on every day. She was standing, motionless in his doorway, her body being braced by one hand on the handle and the other on the jamb. She didn't say a word as she walked over, her naked toes padding silently on the ground and sat on the bed, the mattress dipping. "Hey," his sleep filled voice rang out in the room.