Punk had made his way back to his house after giving out orders to where he wanted each of the guys and girls on the team to go. There was a lot to be done, and he wanted to find this guy, with no distractions. He had to go back home to get his guns and necessary equipment.

AJ was heading to work, unlocking the car door, pausing when she heard a cluttering noise coming from Punks garage which was open. He then emerged in his uniform, placing a loaded gun in his back pocket, closing the garage and turning around, noticing her.

"Everything ok?" She asked him, "Why are you all suited and booted?" She asked curiously.

"Last time I checked it wasn't your business." Punk snapped as she raised her eyebrows.

"Excuse me?" She shook her head at his vicious words. As if she wasn't feeling bad enough.

"You don't need to talk to me any more. Alright. Do what you want. Be with him. Be unhappy. I have a job to do. A job more important than waiting around on you growing a pair." He spat, "Just… stop talking to me." He shook his head.

"Phil… what is wrong?" She asked him, "Where are you going?" She asked with fear.

But he just ignored her, got into his car and drove away quickly. He was clearly out on some sort of mission. He had his gear on and his guns. She couldn't stand him being in danger. She couldn't stand him being mad with her, which he clearly was. But he had a right. She was just so unsure of what to do now.

Later that night, AJ had gotten home from work where Jamie was in the house, as it was his day off. She'd had a tough day. All she wanted to do was come home, go for a warm bath, and go to her bed. She was tired, and not just physically, but tired from everything going on around her. She just wanted it all to stop. For things to go back to normal.

"Did you get home ok?" Jamie asked her immediately as she walked into the living room, looking over at him sitting on the couch, looking on at the TV.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I have?" She asked him strangely.

"This place has been going crazy." Jamie told her, "Some serial killer from years ago killed a guy last night. The cops are going crazy trying to find him. Probably why Phil has been gone all day." He said as AJ's stomach turned. She knew it must have been something serious, otherwise he wouldn't have looked so tense and worked up. Oh how she hoped he was alright.

"Have they caught him yet?" AJ asked curiously.

"They haven't said yet. I highly doubt they'll announce on television any-time soon. I'll get a word with Phil in the morning to see what's going on." Jamie said casually. He really had no idea what had gone on between Punk and his wife. He was completely clueless, "Dinner is made, still on the stove." He told his wife who nodded.

"I'm gonna take a bath first." She told him as he nodded, sinking back against the couch as she left the living room to go upstairs.

Since they had nearly been married for three years, Jamie had struck up the conversation last night, about kids. She always wanted to be a mother, it was one of the few things she desperately wanted to do in life. And she and Jamie had talked about it for long enough, and always spoke about it happening after being married for a few years. But now that she was caught up in Phil, and had realised that the relationship she had with her husband wasn't what she wanted, it was hard to confirm anything with him. If she had children with him, there would be no escaping. They'd always be connected whether they were split up or not. It was complicated, and it hurt to look him in the eye and decline the suggestion of starting a family. Especially when they had talked about it before, and had promised each other that it was both what they wanted.

She didn't know what to tell him. She gave him the, I'm not ready yet, excuse last night when he brought the conversation up, to which he countered with, no one was ever ready. Which was true. She just didn't want to bring even more complications to the mess she was in. Having a baby would just tarnish Phil completely. And she didn't even want to have a baby right now. All she wanted, was to be with Phil.

Later on that night, after she'd had a relaxing bath and ate barely a full sized meal, she tip toed up to bed where Jamie was already fast asleep. He was up early the next morning for work. He looked so innocent when sleeping. And she hated herself. He might have been a jerk sometimes, but he cared about her, and she had been incredibly unloyal to him. If he cheated on her, it would have been devastating for her to find out.

She walked over to their bedroom window, about to shut the curtains when she spotted Punk drive into his driveway. It was going on midnight, and he'd been gone from 7am. How was he even still standing? She watched him as he got out of the car, stumbling over a little whilst holding his arm forcefully. He looked terrible, and in so much pain. It hurt her.

She had to make sure he was ok. So she left her house quietly, in nothing but her pyjamas, which consisted of bottoms and an oversized baseball hoody. The neighbourhood, which today had been noisy and busy from the chaos going on, was now quiet and peaceful again. She couldn't have heard a pin drop in their street.

She knocked on his door lightly with her knuckles, waiting on him coming to the door, watching his shadow through the glass as he opened up.

Now that she could see him close up, she could see he was bleeding through his shirt where he was holding his arm. He was taking deep breaths to control the pain, which alarmed her.

"What happened?" She asked, walking into the house uninvited, not caring much. She wouldn't leave until she knew he was ok.

"I got shot." He told her as she gasped, covering her hand over her mouth as he limped away into the kitchen as she followed.

"Shouldn't you go get it checked out? You could be losing blood, Phil." She said with fear shaking her voice. She was surprised after his words to her this morning that he was even letting her into his house.

"I can look after myself." He told her, "But since you're here… fill up that basin with hot water, pour some salt in it." He asked her, taking a seat on the stool cautiously of his sore body as she rushed away to the sink.

"Salt?" She screwed her eyes up.

"Yeah. It cleans out any infections." He told her as she nodded.

"Did you get him?" AJ asked, knowing that he was obviously out on the case that Jamie was talking about today. She turned around to look at him whilst the water filled up the basin, watching him struggle to unbutton his black shirt, "Let me help you." She sighed, slowing the water down and making her way towards him, beginning to unbutton his shirt as he scowled. If it was thing he hated, it was to be helped, but he needed it. He didn't know what he would do actually, if she hadn't showed up right now. He felt bad for shouting at her today, when he knew how much she still loved him and cared about him.

"He got away." Punk sighed, mad with himself, "I was fingertips away, but I couldn't do anything from the bullet in my arm, and the rest of my team weren't around." He said.

"Hey, he won't get away." She promised him, "He'll get caught out."

"He killed a girl just after he shot me. The guy is a psycho. I can't… I can't have anymore people dying." He said as she had fully unbuttoned his shirt. He was able to pull his arm out of one sleeve, but the other one, the arm that had been shot, she had to tell him.

The shirt had stuck to the wound, which made it hard for him to allow her to pull it off, but she was gentle, and she was soothing whilst peeling the bloody shirt off his body, dumping it over in the washing and making her way back to him, "Take your hand away." She asked him, wanting to see the wound. He was holding it as if to protect her from seeing such horror that came with his job.

He removed his hand, wincing as the cool air hit his wound and AJ gasped. It just looked like a massive hole in his arm. It must have been a powerful bullet, as it had torn through the skin, right to the bone. It just looked like a massive hole in his arm. But she wasn't squeamish the way he probably thought she was.

"Is it sore?" She asked, looking into his eyes as he nodded. It was terribly painful. But somehow her being here was helping the pain.

"Why were you still awake anyway?" He asked as she walked over to the now filled up basin of hot water, grabbing salt from remembering the times she watched him make her breakfast, pouring some into the basin.

"I was thinking about you." She told him, taking a cloth from under the sink and placing it into the basin, walking over to him, sitting the basin on the counter.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you today." He apologised as she rung out the cloth, "I was on edge, and I didn't mean all those things I said. I just… don't know what's going on anymore." He sighed. He wished things were easier.

"Neither do I." She told him, "I miss you."

"I miss you too." He said, never meaning something so much in his life. It was stupid to him, that they were both still mad about each other, yet continued to stay apart. Even just her being close to him right now, whilst he sat in pain, no shirt on, looking to her for help was a massive comfort that he knew she wouldn't give Jamie.

"This will probably sting a bit." She warned him as she cleaned around the wound first to wipe any excess blood off, ringing out the cloth again into the water, this time dabbing the wound itself as he pushed her hand away. That was how sore it was.

"Here..." She grabbed a towel from the counter, "Put it in your mouth. I have to clean it." She told him as he took the towel from her, placing it in his mouth to bind the pain, feeling her dab the cloth back on the wound, clenching his fists tightly whilst he yelled in pain through biting the towel as she frowned.

"It's ok, it's ok… just a little more, alright." She told him, soaking the cloth again and dabbing in the wound, listening to him yell through the towel again, this time grabbing her free hand and squeezing the pain he felt into her tightly, biting the towel as she made sure to clean the wound fully. She hated to see him in pain, but she was here for him.

"Ok, that's it. It's done… I'm done." She took the towel from his mouth as he gasped. It was rare for him to get so hurt. He'd forgotten how sore it was to clean a shot wound.

"There's bandages in the top cupboard up there." He pointed over above the cooker as she rushed over, reaching on her tip toes to collect the first aid box, taking out some bandages and plasters, walking over to him. He was drowsy and tired she could see, no doubt exhausted from all the pain he was in.

She gently began wrapping the wound up in the thick bandages, "You can't possibly go to work tomorrow." She said as he tutted.

"I have to." Punk said, "The fucker isn't getting away. I should have had him tonight." He said, mad with himself.

"You have a full team. Can't you get them out searching for him. You have to rest." She said as he shook his head.

"No time for resting. Once I'm bandaged up, with a goodnight sleep, I'll be ready to go again in the morning." He said as she shook her head, finishing up with the bandage, making sure it was securely around him, protecting the wound from infection.

"You should change this tomorrow. It might bleed during the night." She told him, taking the basin filled with his blood now, pouring it down the sink as he watched her.

"Thank you." He said, "I don't know how I would have fixed myself up by myself." He admitted. He was sincerely glad she had came round, even though he hadn't expected it.

"Well I was worried about you, Phil." She reminded him, "I feel like I'm losing my mind. The last thing I needed was you going out and getting shot." She said, turning around as he sat on the stool facing her.

"Why are you losing your mind?" He asked her.

"I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I feel like I'm trapped." She told him.

"You know you don't have to feel like that." He reminded her. He promised himself he wouldn't do this. He wouldn't leer his way back to her, but it was too hard. He was in love with her, and she was in love with him. It was completely stupid, if you asked him, for them to pretend their feelings had just disappeared.

"I don't want to hurt him, Phil." She sighed, "Please don't make me go through this all with you again."

"Sure it will be hard, and I know you don't want to hurt him, but what about when it's all played out, and he's accepted that you aren't happy with him, and you guys finish accordingly. You can make yourself happy, April. I can make you happy. He doesn't seem like a bad guy, and I understand that's why it's harder for you, but if he loves you, he'll let you go." He said.

"I don't know." AJ shook her head, "I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I think I'm still in shock with the fact I'm not happy, the way I thought I was… I'm happy with you. You make me happy." She told him as he hopped off his stool.

"I can make you happy." He promised her, "Tell me to stop and I will." He inched his way towards her, leaning down as she didn't dare tell him to stop, feeling his lips again, those lips that could convince her anywhere. She couldn't stop or refuse him if she tried, and why? Because she loved the man with all her heart. They'd been living in denial for months without one another, they had tried to forget about one another, and remember their time together as nothing but a fling, but it wasn't possible. She couldn't resist him, and he couldn't her.

He lifted her up in a flash as her legs circled around his waist, the pressure of holding her hurting his arm a little, but the comfort of her lips and her body against his again eased the pain back to neutral. He walked out of the kitchen with her, trailing his kisses down her jawline to her neck as she moaned lightly, "Watch your arm." She whispered, cupping his cheeks to bring his lips from her neck, back to her lips as he walked through the living room and to the stairs, walking up with sensual intentions.

This couldn't go on. He was going to show her, once and for all, that this had to come to an end. These agonising, separate lives they were being forced to live, it had to stop. She had to come clean to Jamie, and he had to have her. He'd shown her before and he'd show her again, he was the one that was supposed to take care of her.

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