The sun slowly peeked over the horizon and slipped past the curtains covering the motel room's window. As it assaulted her eyes, forcing them open, Natara sighed. She'd woken up again. She was alive. What would today bring, more pain? She picked up her phone from her side table and saw Mal had called twice, worrying about her no doubt. Checking the time, she saw it was already eight.

Her plan came back to her and hit her with the force of a bullet, giving her the dull beginning of a full-on migraine. Pretend to be okay, her brain reminded her. Tell him you're okay. You have to live. So she called him back.

After a greeting, Mal told her he was at work, apologizing. But that was fine, because she wanted to go back. She was okay; she was ready. He'd be there to pick her up in a few minutes – her motel wasn't far from the station. He sounded suspicious, doubtful, and worried when he hung up, and Natara realized she hadn't been putting a lot of effort into the act.

She got dressed quickly, combing through the rat's nest that had replaced her hair in the past three days. When he knocked on her door and she answered, she kissed him swiftly on the cheek and smiled at him happily. Who ever said she couldn't act?

It was harder at the station. She tried to throw herself wholeheartedly into their case, but it was hard, forgetting. It had been three days, definitely not proper time for a full recovery. Mal noticed.

"Do you want to go home?" He gave her the anxious look she hated, like she might unexpectedly collapse at any given moment.

She said she was fine and they went back to their work, Mal analyzing her with more focus than the crime scene pictures they were examining. It just made it harder to hide the tears her eyes were dying to release.

Halfway through the day, she gave up. Did you ever have that feeling where you just don't care anymore? You just give up entirely, and decide it doesn't matter what other people think anymore, you're just going to do what you want to, what your heart wants you to do, and if someone notices and judges you, who cares anymore?

Natara walked into the empty crime lab – Kai and Amy were on the scene at a newfound murder across town – and collapsed in the corner, hugging her knees to her chest. The tears flowed down her face as she whispered to herself, "I'm not really okay. Sometimes I wish someone really would notice."

And notice he did. She didn't know he'd followed her, but Mal slipped in through the door and slid onto the floor, putting an arm around her.

"You're not okay."

No, she wasn't, she admitted.

It was silently that he took her hand and pulled her to her feet, taking her to the captain's office.

Mal requested two months off for him and Natara both, and for once, Captain Yeong complied immediately, dismissing them with the flick of a hand. She usually didn't allow an officer to take an extended leave without a major loss like Natara's, but she let it slide with Mal. This was serious.

Natara continued to slide into her self-induced depression, even with Mal as her ally and friend, and he knew it. Eventually, he realized she couldn't do this anymore. She thought he was going to take her to an asylum or somewhere of the sort when he made her pack her things and get into his car.

They drove for three hours straight; Natara didn't know in what direction or to where. Eventually they pulled up to a rural area, in a part of California Natara didn't recognize, only having been out of the greater San Francisco area a handful of times.

Mal stopped the car and walked around it to open Natara's door. When she got out, she drank in the beautiful scenery and gasped.

"Well?" Mal smiled down at her. "What do you think?"

Any guesses on where they are?(: