The Between

THE BETWEEN

Chapter 1

"Now remember everyone, we do not open our eyes until the light flashes. We need to make sure no one's looking to ensure the others make it safely across and nothing comes over with them. Got it?" She used her best librarian voice; everyone nodded and hmhm'd in agreement. The voice was not to be brooked and hinted that if indeed anyone dared to brook it, it would go hard on them; make no mistake.

"Good. Now... here it comes. Close your eyes, everyone. Nice and tight." She shut her eyes tightly and let out a slow, exasperated sigh after a moment. "Will whoever has their hand on my boob let go? I know it's you, Francis! We talked about this. You are not allowed to touch my boobs." She ordered tiredly and felt the hand fall away. Francis was a grabber, and this was a ritual. He did it every time!

The whispers started softly at first: Open your eyes. Tabatha Twitched... it enticed, and she diligently kept them shut. The hiss grew louder, tugging at her hair and clothes in an effort to get her to acknowledge it. This she was used to, and so were the others who surrounded her in a semicircle.

"You will like what you seeees... come on then? Jusssst a peek... mouse?" It rasped, and she kept quiet; as always, the urge to scream like a banshee was uppermost, but by now, she had learned to control it. She had had lots and lots of practice after all.

Invisible hands were tugging at her hair by now, and she pressed her eyes further shut and zealously kept the scream from cresting in her throat. If she started screaming, then everyone was going to start screaming, and then no one's eyes would stay shut!

This usually ended with a bright flash of light if no one opened their eyes, and there it was. If someone had opened their eyes, the flash of light would usher in not only a newcomer... but something else too. Tabatha made sure it wouldn't happen again by holding daily keep-your-eyes-closed classes. So far, so good.

"Good work." She managed after a moment and lifted her hands to her eyes to rub at the blind spot the flash caused. Everyone around her was mumbling incoherently as they headed back to the compound. "Nice job, everyone. Go get some dinner." They would do it whether she told them or not, but it made her feel better to tell them anyway.

Tabatha watched them amble off for a moment but stayed back because she had been elected the leader they did not need, and so did the job she did not need to do, just to pass the time. They had a lot of that around here. What a horrible thought.

Today there was only one person, a tall man who looked confused and disconcerted. Though that was not strange, everyone had that look for a moment or two. Recollection lightened her eyes, and she stepped forward to hold out a hand for him.

"You're the actor Dade Holden? Right?" He nodded with a frown and looked around him uneasily, both hands lifted to stop her as she reached out to steady him gently. A comforting touch helped calm the initial panic of the experience, she found. He took another step back, and she reached up to touch his shoulder instead.

"It's alright... Be calm? I'm here to help you. The disorientation will go away in a bit." Dark eyes the color of a turbulent ocean met hers as he took a deep breath against the nausea. Large hands reached for hers, and she could feel the shiver there. They were twice the size of her hands, and she let the thought sink in for a moment before she tilted her head back to look up at him. He really was this tall then.

Dade Holden, she thought with a sigh! How lucky was she? Wait, that came out sounding wrong, but he was the first person to show up here that looked interesting. Yes, interesting was the word, she told herself briskly, and then lost her train of thought as his eyes met hers and his brows drew together in beautiful confusion. He let go of her hands to run them through his hair unsteadily.

"Oh, wow... he was even prettier up close and so tall! Dark hair, dreamy ocean blue eyes, and a voice that could shake the ovaries like nobody's business. Her head tilted back as she held his gaze. He was her cup of tea, alright. Ah, chamomile, perhaps with a hint of lavender. She missed tea...

"Where am I? Who are you...?" Still confused; obviously, and there was a hint of panic in the depths of his voice as he spoke quietly. "I'm Tabatha Twitched; this is the Between--or possibly Purgatory--concepts I'll explain a little bit later. What is the last thing you remember? It helps if you keep hold of the memory." The actor's fingers encircled her wrists, and she sighed in sympathy. Dark eyes looked down at his hands for a moment, and then he let go of her almost too quickly.

He really was the giant he portrayed so well on screen. Maybe this place finally had a perk. Now that was a wretched thought. The poor man might be dying up there, and here she was thinking he was a reward of some sort because she'd been here for so long. Shame on you, Tabatha, she chided silently and cleared her throat. "Do you remember anything?" She urged again, and he cleared his throat and ran both hands over his face.

Tabatha could see the struggle in his eyes as he tried to piece together his memories. She felt a pang of guilt for her earlier thoughts and silently hoped he would recover soon. "I... I think I remember a car accident," he finally whispered, his voice hoarse and strained.

"I was driving, and there was a dog in the road... then darkness. Where the fuck am I really?" Cars were a popular reason for most of the residents here. Well, cars and dementia/Alzheimer's. Many old people who barely knew what it meant to keep their eyes closed; hence the classes.

"Darkness carries you here and... well, you'll see. Come on! We'll find your room, and we can talk about this place." Still looking around, he reached for her hand again as an anchor point of some sort and cleared his throat.

"Am I dead?" She shook her head. "No. This is the space between life and death. Some people stay longer than others do. Come along; it's getting dark." Tabatha urged, and he followed her down from the raised hill only because she started walking. His heartfelt gasp when his eyes finally adjusted to the gloom and he looked around caused the fear to close up his throat. Tabatha squeezed his large hand tightly for the bit of comfort she felt he needed.

"It's okay, Dade. I'll make sure you're safe while you're here." Tabatha tried to sound soothing, and he responded to the authority in her voice by simply following. They traversed a winding path down the hill to the vast compound at the base. The last of the people were just entering beneath the gate, and she picked up her pace.

It was dismal and frightening, and the oppressive darkness that filled the sky reached into his mind and flipped the switches of the fear he usually kept so easily in check. If he had been a screaming man, he would be screaming, but he was not. He knew how to live around fear... and he would contain it here too. Wherever the fuck here was!

Black sand shimmered beneath his bare feet as a glass-like bulb of a sun, or possibly moon, illuminated what little there was to illuminate. That was just it, though; there was nothing. It was an empty nothing and somehow more frightening than a bunch of screaming hordes of whatever hiding behind the shadows. Shimmering black sand glittered and puffed up in places as an invisible wind plucked it into the air like tendrils of mist.

This was a lot like a Terry Pratchett novel. Which was a weird thought to have since he'd never read one. The words had just been there in his mind, as if someone put them there for him to think. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the strange connection.

Antony squinted up at the sky and drew in an anxious breath. It was an all-encompassing darkness that reached down into his very soul and filled it with a dread so complete there were no real words to explain it. He looked down at the sand quickly and tried to swallow down the hysteria rising in his chest. All of this was all wrong! Calm down, he ordered himself, and he let his eyes travel over the sand.

The desert stretched for miles and finally became a wall. His footsteps slowed as his eyes traced the wall curiously, and again Tabatha knew she needed to urge him on. Stare too long at that thing, and it became horrifyingly clear that there were things beyond it you did not want inside it.

"Don't stare at the wall." She said quickly, tugging at his hand as she picked up the pace again. "Why is it there?" He managed a husky cough and cleared his throat, but he could not seem to look away. "To keep things out. Just focus on your feet if you must." He tore his gaze away and found his bare feet again.

What the fuck, his mind kept repeating. What the fuck was going on? Could he be dead? No, she had said this was the Between, a space between life and death, but that could just be his mind conjuring illusions. Illusions while you're dead? Fuck. Just... what the fuck. Fear tugged at his mind, and he frantically tried to concentrate on anything else.

"Are you sure?" Tabatha swallowed down the lump of fear in her throat his question evoked and tugged on his hand again. She looked up into his bewildered eyes. "As sure as I am that that is not the moon and this sand moves by itself, and it hates shoes because they disappear the moment you step on it. Ah, here we are." She led him into a high, ornate, Gothic-style wrought iron gate, and he looked up at the wording stylized in the black steel. "Sin has not yet claimed this soul." He read, and she looked up at him sharply with a lifted brow. "That's what it says?" He nodded and looked up again to see the same wording twisting around the top.

"Why?" Antony asked confusedly, and she shrugged a rounded shoulder. "Est vita sed vivendum; clear as day... there is life yet to be lived. We all see something different." She looked around as people hustled back and forth to fetch their plates and then hurried to their rooms before night fell. "I think it's a message, but sadly I haven't figured it out yet. I'm sure it means something. Freaky Wanda swears her words are gibberish that she'll never figure out."

Antony grasped onto that idea to stave off the fear and cleared his throat. "Did she tell you what they were?" Tabatha nodded and thought for a moment. "Twixt this and six thick thistle sticks." She stammered a bit over the syllables and looked up when he chuckled. This seemed an infinitely more normal conversation to be having, he thought thankfully, and he let go of her small hand.

"Was she an actress?" Tabatha shrugged, and he followed her down a corridor between two identical buildings. "She has dementia, so I doubt she even remembers what she was. Why?" Antony followed the diminutive brunette and swallowed against the anxiety again. "That's a tongue twister actors use before a show to help with articulation. Like... imagine an imaginary menagerie manager imagining managing an imaginary menagerie." Tabatha couldn't help her chuckle. "I'll have to remember to tell her. Was that one you used?" They stopped to let several older women pass, and he dropped his gaze to hers. "Yeah."

Tabatha led him through the labyrinth, and he just followed meekly, hoping that she would not up and disappear and he would be here alone. He did not scare easily, but this was horrific. It was almost like a convoluted nightmare, and he was deathly afraid some kind of monster was going to jump scare from behind a building and... what if he didn't wake up and it consumed him? No, he didn't scare easily, but he would be the first to admit that he was scared shitless.

They finally stopped at a door that looked exactly like all the others, except his had a star on the front and his name inscribed below. His real name, and that was strange. He hadn't been Antony Greatfield for so long. Dade Holden was easy to wear, whereas Antony was a whole other mess of monsters that he hoped was not hiding inside.

The compound consisted of row upon row of buildings that resembled boxcars, just without the wheels. Yellow steel walls and a rusty red roof, windowless and cheerless. Cobblestones created walkways that snaked around the buildings and finally brought you back to the mess hall. No matter which way you headed, all directions led to the same place unless you knew what you were doing. Tabatha had figured it out because she'd been here long enough to know exactly how this place worked and how to survive it.

"Antony Greatfield?" She looked up at him, and he nodded. "Dade Holden is a stage name. Sounds a bit more sophisticated." A perfectly arched brow lifted, and she opened the door to let him into the small cubicle. Not very many people knew Dade Holden was not his real name.

He stood looking down at the nondescript bed, grey blanket, and white sheets... one pillow. It hardly looked big enough to hold his tall frame. The walls were mostly bare, but there was one poster up just above the bed. A much younger version of himself modeling underwear for Calvin Klein... man, he had hated doing that. Why the fuck was that here anyway?

"So, Antony... Any questions yet? Do you mind me calling you Antony? It's a nice name." He opened the only other door in the room and frowned at the clothes inside, then shrugged his broad shoulders in answer. "It hardly matters what you call me. These are mine?" Tabatha nodded and frowned at the overwhelming amount of pink. "Ah, that's right... I forgot that you're a homosexual. This weird place is going to dress you up in pink and feathers, and there's no getting around it." Expressive eyebrows lifted in a frown.

"I don't dress as a stripper normally, but since I'm a librarian, they think it's hilarious to dress me as a whore." For the first time, he took in the sparkly crop top, leather skirt, fishnet stockings, and ten-inch sparkly hooker heels. Considering where he was and what he was experiencing, finding her attractive was just too weird and out of place.

"Have you seen enough?" She asked saucily, and he grinned for a moment before he nodded. Levity was always good, and she'd managed to make him smile. At least he wasn't a screamer as Victorious Victor had been. That hadn't been a fun day at all.

"I'm... fuck... why aren't you scared? I don't understand any of this." He caught a glimpse of himself in a tall mirror, and his brows drew together as his eyes widened. He could have sworn that mirror hadn't been there a moment ago. Then he focused on what he was wearing, and his frown deepened.

White Capri pants and a pink tank top inscribed with the words I'm Delicious met his incredulous eyes, and he touched a hand to the sequins on the hem of the shirt. "This isn't some kind of weird dream; I don't dream this vividly as a rule, and I'm not homosexual, contrary to popular belief. I'm not. Also, I'd never dream of this! I... are you sure I'm not dead? I must've hit my head and blacked out. Pretty soon I'm going to wake up and-- " He stopped at the look on her face.

"Pretty soon you're going to wake up, and you'll still be here, Antony. You got here late, so I'm just going to let you get used to the idea of this tonight. Tomorrow you'll be in the entertainment, and that's a whole other mess of stuff that you won't believe right there. I'll bring dinner and lock you in for the night." His easy-to-read eyes narrowed at that, and she pressed her lips together.

"Nights are dangerous, and if you're not prepared for it, you'll freak out. Believe me? I did." She motioned to the bed and pushed him down onto it with a smile that was meant to be soothing but came off looking loony; his frown said as much, and she pulled a straight face.

"Just sit tight, and I'll be back." Antony nodded and took a deep breath to settle his nerves a bit. "Why are you doing this?" He asked softly, and she shrugged a glittery shoulder. "It helps to have someone explain things; otherwise, we'd have people running about and attracting attention to those beyond the wall. Try to read this; perhaps it'll help. It gets better... it really does." Her voice drifted off as she pressed the pamphlet into his large hands. "Thank you, I think." He murmured softly and ran a hand across his handsome face.

"Sit tight; I'll be right back." She left as quickly as she could on the hooker heels and locked the door behind her decisively. Biting down on her lower lip, she slipped the key into the pocket of the skirt and headed over to the dining hall. Dade Holden... shit, he really was exactly as gorgeous as he looked on screen. This could be a reprieve from the monotony of this place... and again she couldn't help feeling guilty for thinking that. He might be dying on the other side, and if he weren't saved... well, he wouldn't be here long.

"Is there really someone new?" A female voice tittered at her shoulder, and she looked down at the rotund, florid face of Abigail Something; she couldn't remember her surname. She was a dementia/Alzheimer girl, and her good-natured soul always made Tabatha feel sad.

"Yes, Abigail. I'll introduce him to you tomorrow, honey. Go get a plate and get to your room quickly. Go, go." Tabatha urged and watched the little old lady head to the tables before she moved purposely to grab two plates from a long table that lined one wall. No one knew where the food came from; it just happened to be there when they needed it to be. Just like everything else in this place. If you thought about it long enough, it'd freak you out, so she didn't think about it... at all.

The mess hall was institutional green with faded black and white linoleum floors, lined with old steel tables and plastic chairs. On a plaque on each table was a caption: remember to tip the waitress. It always struck her as terrifyingly funny because there were no waitresses to tip, and if there were, she'd rather not find out where they went after their shifts were up. It didn't tolerate thinking about it, so she didn't think about it as vigorously as she could.

Her commute back to the door was stopped twice more before she could slip out and take the familiar route back to her room. Convenient that he was just across from her, she thought again and set a plate down on a step to unlock the door. For a moment, she wondered why there was a star on his door but shelved it for later contemplation. Right now, she needed to finish up and get to her own room.

Antony was standing in the center of the room with the sequined shirt in one hand, looking confused--beautifully confused, she thought--and sighed. All that copper skin... She hadn't seen anyone this gorgeous in a long time. He took the plate she held out and tossed the shirt into the corner disgustedly.

"You actually locked me in?" Antony asked, and she nodded, then watched as he sat down on the edge of the bed again. She found a chair behind the door, exactly where she'd known it would be, and handed him a plastic spork as she lifted the lid. Why they always got the weird hybrid fork/spoon things never made sense, and she didn't think about it.

"Cold meatloaf again." Tabatha sighed audibly, and his eyes widened in question as he lifted the lid from his own plate. "MacDonald's...?" He asked confusedly, and she reached for a fry as her taste buds started salivating all by themselves. "Not your favorite food, right?" Blue eyes followed her hand as she took the fry, and then he drew back with a gasp as the fry turned to cold meatloaf between her fingers.

"Shit." She swore and dropped the morsel onto her plate. "It's like the clothes and the entertainment. What you hate is what you get, and I had too much cold meatloaf as a child." His eyes lifted to hers, and she looked away. With a sigh, she deposited a morsel of her meatloaf onto his plate, and his eyes widened when it turned into a floppy piece of lettuce. He prodded at it with his spork.

"What kind of place is this?" The baritone of his voice was shaky. Tabatha didn't have a ready answer for that and took a bite of her meal. "The fucked-up kind." There really wasn't any other answer she could give him. It was what it was.

She finished the meatloaf with a sigh and watched as he set the plate aside. "You need to finish that or you'll go without tomorrow. Every plate you pick up will be empty, and hunger here is amplified to a near unbearable level of pain. Trust me and just eat all of it." Antony reached for the burger and took a bite. It was stale and cold... just the way he loved it; sarcasm tinged his thoughts, and he frowned at that. If there was one thing he hated but always ended up eating, it was cold burgers and stale fries.

"How long have you been here, Tabatha?" Awww... he used her name; now didn't that just make carting that plate of food out here worthwhile? Living for the small things every damn day, poor girl.

"Well... it gets away from you if you don't keep rigorous tabs on it. I've been here, I think, at least a year." Blue eyes took in her clothing again, and he couldn't help but smile at the way she tugged at the low cut of the top periodically. "What happened to you?" Seemed like the less weird question, and there were too many questions, and he needed to start somewhere.

"I was walking home from work, felt a blinding pain in my temple, and woke up in brightness so complete I didn't know if I was seeing it or feeling it. My eyes were open, and the light seemed to move through me. It was incredible... and when it blinked out, I was standing on the black sand screaming like a banshee. I sure did my share of screaming that first night." Finished with her plate, she set it down on the floor at her feet and tugged at her blouse again.

"I was in darkness." He murmured perplexed and ate the cold fries simply to be done with them. He didn't see the longing for them in her eyes and looked up to find her watching him. "It's always different. Every time someone comes across, their description is different." Slim hands folded in her lap after she tried to tug her shirt higher again. Damn, boobs were all over the place today! No wonder Francis couldn't keep his grabby hands to himself.

"Comes across?" Well, not as if she hadn't known he'd want to know that. "From the living. We wait for them on the hill. You need me to explain?" His nod was quick as he ran both hands through his dark hair. "There's a sort of... compulsion to head up to the hill and wait whenever someone is due to arrive. It just happens in your head, but because we can't see the living, you need to keep your eyes closed until the light flashes. Open them and... you let in something else along with the newcomer. It's only happened once since I was here, and... until it left, I locked myself in my room."

Antony looked around the small room again and tried to take a deep breath. "You said the Between on the Hill? Is that like the Catholic purgatory?" Tabatha nodded and remembered he'd played a priest in a movie about demons once. How fitting. "It's a place where souls wait to be forgiven or condemned... much like Purgatory. There shouldn't be demons inside it." He was trying to explain it to himself, she realized, and she just listened. Antony reached for the pamphlet, and she tried not to look as he opened the perfectly blank block.

"What the fuck?" There it was, she thought; the inevitable fuckening with the head was starting early for him. Maybe that meant he wouldn't be here that long. Shame; he was certainly fun to look at.

"They're fucking with you. I bet if you look at it tomorrow, there's going to be an ad for a funeral home or something. You're an actor, so it might be the script that you promised yourself you'd never read, but you'll read it eventually as the monotony gets to you. You know what I have in my room?" His dark head shook as he turned the page around and around.

"The Lord of the Rings. Boring... perfect movies, and I loved the lore and the appendices and all of it, but Tolkien is so... boring. I've read it six times. You'd make a pretty Legolas." Those ocean blue eyes were staring at her again as he wondered what to say. "It's more than a thousand pages long. How does it fit on a page? I always wanted to be Faramir or Eomer... but you're right; the songs and poems get tedious." It was rather funny, and she chuckled at the hilarity of them sharing the sentiment.

"You'd be a great Glorfindel. Tall and golden and gloriously handsome, riding into battle." She winked at him and looked up at the clock.

"I'm going to have to go. Entertainment's almost done, and I don't like to be outside at night." Sitting up, she pulled at her top again, and he reached for her hand. "You could stay here?" Her dark head shook, and she noticed the glitter that fell onto her arm at the motion. Sometimes she felt like Tinkerbell.

"No. I can't. It's not permitted. You'll be fine in here, Antony. I promise you'll be fine in here. I'm going to lock your door." She stood, and he stood with her; man, he was tall. At least six foot seven. She felt like giggling but didn't, because that would be childish, and she was hardly a child.

"Oh... uhm... This is important, and I don't want to freak you out more than you probably already are, but if someone knocks on the door, don't answer. It's important that you don't say a word. It only knocks twice... usually. Everyone else will be in their rooms, and I've got the only key to yours, so whatever is doing the knocking... will do you harm. I will not venture outside at night, so it won't be me asking you to let me into this room, Antony. Remember that? Keep still and wait for it to leave... okay?" Those brows, she thought, and his expressive eyes were his trademark, and along with his lips were his greatest appeal. "I make it sound exactly as bad as it is for a reason. Just trust me, Antony, and sleep. I'll see you in the morning." Turning for the door, she felt him follow and tugged the key from her pocket.

"I'm scared." He breathed behind her shoulder, and she turned to meet his eyes. "You should be. Stay scared, quiet, and safe. Think of it like this: there are no windows in these rooms for a reason. In this place, curiosity not only killed the cat; it tortured, mutilated, and ate it too." With those words, she shut the door in his face and fairly jumped across the narrow street to yank open her own door with a gasp. She'd nearly stayed too long...

Antony spent the night with his head beneath a pillow, praying that whatever this was would be over when he woke up. He'd be safe in his airy loft in New York, laughing about the weirdness of this dream. Then he'd read his lines aloud one last time before he headed for the studio. He'd pick up takeout on his way there, but he'd never get around to eating it until it was cold... and... stale.

"No." He whispered furiously and pressed his eyes shut with his hands as the knocking started on the door. If I don't listen, it'll go away. Tabatha said, it'll go away, and I'll be safe. Just stay quiet and ignore it. You're good at ignoring what scares you, Antony, old fellow me lad; you've been ignoring everything around you that you didn't want to see for years and years. This is no different... it's no different at all.

As a child, he'd hide under the bed when his father got home, and he heard his mother head down the hall to his bedroom. He'd ignore the drunk cursing as she tried to reach for him beneath the bed and press himself into the farthest corner and shut his eyes. Finally, she'd give up and leave, and he'd be safe for just a bit longer.

The reverberation of the second knock drilled into his fear-numbed brain, and he shut his eyes against it again as he gritted his teeth together almost violently. When it didn't come again, he relaxed before he allowed himself to breathe. Eyes opened to find the room dark and still as the grave. A strange sense of comfort encased his tired mind as he closed his eyes against the dark again and took a deep, steadying breath. Why the fuck was this all happening to him? He was supposed to be dead, and this is not what he envisioned death to be like.

Sleep finally pulled him under, and his nightmares were filled with sinister images descending from the sky above the strange bulb moon that lit the sky.

Fear jolted through his body as the door to his room swung open and let in Tabatha. For a long moment, he just lay there staring at her as his heart slowed down. "Told you it wasn't a dream." She said by way of apology and moved to the closet to find him something to wear that wasn't too feminine, not easy considering the warped humor this place was known for. He was a very masculine male, so this place was going to dress him as an extremely effeminate one. It was a given.

"Does the knocking come every night?" She emerged a moment later with jeans and a blue shirt. "Oh yes. Charles from Vancouver, two doors over, answered it once and had to be locked in his room for two days until he stopped screaming and attacking everyone. We still don't have much of an idea what he let in... and by we, I mean I. I'm by way of being the most lucid person here. Most others are slow." He took the clothes, and she grinned when the shirt turned pink and the collar ruffled into lace. "I'm not wearing this." Her shrug said whatever, and she indicated her own attire.

"What you take out of the closet and what you put on are two different things. These were nice slacks and a button blouse with a cardigan; see the difference?" Leather pants clung to every possible curve, and the nine-inch stilettos were probably a bitch to walk in. A red crop top hugged her cleavage, and she noticed him notice as she tugged at the top.

"Go on then and get dressed. We need to get going for breakfast. I need to give you the tour before lunch, and then you're in the entertainment, and I haven't even explained that yet." She turned her back and heard him shrug into the jeans and silly frilly shirt with a grunt of disapproval.

"These are way too fucking tight." He muttered to himself, and she turned curiously. They were tight alright, but on his body, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Oof, they slung low across the hips, and that enticing V peeked from the top. "Are you done looking?" He asked offhandedly, and she looked up, blushing furiously, and then she just grinned, and he hadn't expected a grin like that from a girl like her at all.

"No. You're the prettiest thing to get off the proverbial boat in a while. I don't even care that you don't like girls. I'd slap that ass every time I get the chance." Antony pinned her with a slow smile and stepped closer. "You're a librarian?" Tabatha just nodded a bit saucily and batted her eyes. "Librarians read. I've read a full and rich life without leaving my bedroom. Bodies like yours are too much fun to look at, Mr. Greatfield. Now put on those frills so we can get going." This time his smile reached his eyes, and Tabatha sighed sadly. Between you bastard, she thought as they headed to the mess hall.

He was following quietly, and she cursed it again for putting him down right across from her. She'd gone her whole life believing men like him belonged in books, and that's inevitably where she found them. This one, though, preferred men and was probably NOTHING at all like any of the men he'd portrayed over the years. This was going to be her torture for a while to come yet...

"Where does the music come from?" Antony looked down at her, and she looked up at the sky for a moment. "I can't figure it out. When I got here, it nearly drove me insane. Right now it's still fine, but sometimes something happens to the cadence, and it goes all... disturbing."

He lifted his brows a bit and tried to hear what she meant. And there it was: a beat that took a bit too long to begin or a chord that sounded off somehow. You found yourself waiting for it to happen again, and when it didn't, your mind tried to filter it, and... disturbing was a good word. It was an old-timey sort of tune from the twenties, the type you heard in horror movies to set the mood. Just that bit disconcerting.

Antony tried to ignore it and instead focused his mind on anything else; there wasn't much, so his eyes rested on her swaying hips beneath the tight leather. She'd probably learned by now to walk in shoes like that, but it was easy to see she was no hooker. There were no exaggerated movements to entice. She just walked to get to where she needed to get. Dark hair touched her shoulders and shimmered in the weird light that touched everything.

Tabatha was the type of girl he'd not even notice usually. There was nothing that really set her apart from anyone around her. Five six, probably, brunette with dark honey eyes and... pretty lips. Blush berry red, probably her best feature.

Fuck... he thought; he was probably dying somewhere out there, and here he was thinking he'd follow the sway of her hips anywhere. There was something very solid and comforting about her, and he was drawn to that instinctively.

Introducing him around became a lesson in patience that she'd cultivated, but they finally found a couple of plastic chairs and lifted the covers of their plates. "Oh look, oatmeal and a runny fucking egg. My father loved this stuff and made me eat it every morning. What I wouldn't give for toast and honey and hash browns... golden brown and crispy." Antony peeked beneath the lid and frowned.

"I buy one of these every morning at the corner store just because they need the business. It's awful." One lonely, stale muffin sat on the plate, and she could see raisins on the uneven sides. "At least there's coffee. For some reason, that's one drink you get as much as you want. Cheers." She stated dryly and tapped her plastic cup to his.

"People are staring." The cadence of his deep voice made her look up from finishing the egg, and she looked around. "They stare at anything that moves. It's the shirt, and you're new. You should be used to people staring, though." Antony pulled at the uncomfortable collar of the shirt and forced down the last bite. "I don't like being seen. Can we go somewhere this shirt isn't this conspicuous?" Tabatha couldn't help her laughter at that apt description and reached over to pat his lax hand by the plate.

"Pink really brings out your eyes." She joked with a naughty grin, and Antony just frowned at her before he just smiled and flexed his shoulders beneath the tacky satin. "Why, thank you. That crop top really shows off the girls." Tabatha reached for the shirt instantly and pinned him with a condemning look a moment later.

"You shouldn't even notice the girls." She admonished, and he shrugged again. "I know the tabloids think I'm gay, but I'm not. I'm really not." This time she was blushing like a maniac and cupped her breasts before shuffling them into the crop top again. Sitting in the space between life and death in pink satin, eating a horrible muffin, and discussing breasts... seemed somehow less terrifying than it should probably be.

"Well, be that as it may--" She was cut off by Victorious Victor, who sat down beside her and took her hand quickly; she withdrew, and he just took it again. "Yes, Victor?" She asked gently, and he covered her hand with his other hand as well to stop her from retracting her hand again. Antony wasn't sure why he noticed this; it was a small, tangible thing, though, and he'd be wondering about it for a while yet.

"The knocking is too much. There's too much knocking, and why is she following me?" One of the Alzheimer girls, Harmony--at least that's what she introduced herself as--sat down next to Antony and rested her cheek on his shoulder.

His eyes shot to Tabatha's, and she just waved a hand at him. "Harmony's harmless. There really isn't much left of her mind, Antony. I think she likes your shirt." She turned her attention back to Victor, whose lanky face and runny brown eyes were now focused on their hands. He leaned in closer, and she moved away just the slightest bit.

"I can't do anything about the knocking, Victor." Antony could see her flinch when Victor leaned over too quickly and pressed his brow to his hands on top of hers. "Now that I lock your door at night, nothing can happen, remember? And I think Harmony follows you because she's scared too. Go on and tell her about your garden. She's a good listener." He shot up into a sitting position again and looked over at the old woman.

"She doesn't talk." He pouted like a petulant child, and Tabatha removed her hand from his definitively. "She doesn't need to talk to listen. Go on? Find a table and talk to her. I have to take Antony to the wall." Victor jerked away and unfolded his lanky body to stand.

"I don't like the wall. You shouldn't go to the wall at all. There's too much there, and I don't like it. You shouldn't go to the wall at all." Tabatha sighed and pointed to Harmony. "Yes, yes, Victor. Now go ahead." She watched him head over to a table, and Harmony stood to follow after patting Antony's cheek tenderly; her smile was vacant.

"Let's take a walk, big boy, before something else happens." Antony stood to follow her and tried not to look at any of the other shambling bodies that moved and mingled and... stared vacuously. He'd never felt more alien in his life.

"Victor's last memory is lifting a gun to his temple. I'm thinking he might be vegetative somewhere in the living. He screamed for days when he got here... and I don't think he was such a good soul either. Something about him whispers pedophile. He's always rambling on about his garden... and the little boy buried in it. I have no idea how true that is." That sounded exactly as terrible as this place was turning out to be. So that's why she didn't like him touching her.

Antony just listened as he followed her swaying hips across crumbling cobblestones and tried not to think; then he picked up the resonance of the strange music.

"That's Figlio Perduto." He murmured as his ears picked up the familiar song. "One of my favorite roles had that song in the score." Tabatha smiled slowly and let her mind conjure up a much younger him playing a warrior in black armor with a red silk scarf wrapped around his arm.

"I remember you in that. This piece is about the king of the elves stealing a boy from his father's side and taking him away. Lost son; I think maybe the boy was taken to a space in between like this one? A place of heartache and woe... and here you are. Prophetic, wasn't it?" Antony's steps slowed, and she turned after a moment to see him just watching her.

"That's a deep insight. Not many people know what that song is about." She agreed and shrugged her slim shoulders. "I've lived my life in music and books, Antony. Good movies are few and far between... but you always gave such a different dimension to the roles you played. Not even a generic soldier in the middle of a war, which is very one-dimensional, stayed that way with you behind it. That red silk scarf against the black armor was almost as potent as the way you sliced with your sword. It was almost balletic... and primal. Beautiful." A smile tugged at the corners of his lips before he pressed them together and looked down at his shoes.

"I didn't think he needed to be a mindless brute, which is what the story called for. There was more to him than violence. So I tried to communicate his intelligence by the way he moved. He sliced cleanly, and his movements were clinical and precise. He didn't hack or maim; he killed quickly because he didn't like killing..." His voice drifted off, and she turned with a grin. "You did a good job; you always do a good job." Praise for his acting he was used to, but coming from her keen sense of observation, it was gratifying to hear. "Do you know why he wore the scarf?"

Tabatha lifted her eyes to his and shook her head. "I always thought it was a lost love thing. They didn't go into it." Antony agreed and took a deep breath. "Jarek took the scarf from the dead body of a five-year-old girl. It was wrapped around her neck. He found her in the first castle the army conquered; her mother, the queen, had strangled her children one by one with a red silk scarf. So he took the scarf to remember he was a monster... he'd killed children." Tabatha's jaw dropped, and she tugged at her top before reaching for his shoulder.

"Why wasn't that in the movie?" Antony shrugged. "It's in the book, but since Jarek was a secondary character, a mindless brute, they didn't feel they needed to add it. I fought for that scarf, and finally they just let me have it. I was so gratified at Comic-Con when hundreds showed up wearing that scarf. It was... cool because they knew why I wore it." Her head tilted a bit, and she licked across her lips in contemplation. "I wish I'd read the book." She breathed after a moment. Antony tried not to listen too intently to the disturbing note in the music as he studied the cobbles.

"I know a lot of things people don't expect me to know and... I never had anyone to tell them to. I really do wish I'd read that book." Tabatha started walking again and felt him follow. There were no shadows here, but his presence loomed across her shoulder.

Usually she'd get real paranoid when someone walked this close to her, but this felt safe. She hadn't felt safe since she got here, and that was an insight that she needed to think about... later. Right now she needed to scare him.

"Maybe you will one day, you know, if you wake up." Slim shoulders shrugged. "I'm probably vegetative up there, Antony. I doubt I'm ever going to wake up." The finality in her voice was almost as disturbing as the off-key music.

As soon as the paved road ended and the sand began, their shoes disappeared. Antony watched her wriggle her toes in the sand blissfully for a moment before she took the first step into the desert. Slim hands tugged through her hair, and he pointed up at the sun/moon. "It looks a bit like a light bulb...?" Astute observation, Tabatha thought, and relished the feeling of the sand between her toes.

"You'll feel nightfall coming by how oppressive the sky gets, almost as if it tries to scare you back inside to safety. The light never goes out completely, and I'm eternally grateful for that fact. Imagine this place in the pitch dark?" Antony shrugged and looked down at the sand as it whispered up into the air as they walked, eating up their steps behind them before settling down again. He also noticed the lack of a shadow and frowned at how upsetting that idea was.

"We're going to the wall. As long as you don't touch it and stay at least two feet away, they won't take notice of you." Well, that sounded ominous, Antony thought, and he moved closer to her. Just how this diminutive little brunette was going to protect him, he wasn't sure, but he felt less on edge beside her, and he wasn't going to be all macho and pretend he wasn't still scared shitless. That would be useless in these circumstances.

"What's on the other side, Tabatha?" It wasn't hard to hear the hitch in his voice, and she so wanted to comfort him and make it seem less horrible, but that would be counterproductive. He'd see it, and it was better he be prepared.

"Do you believe in heaven and hell, Antony?" Now that was a concept he hadn't thought about a whole lot in his life. "Grew up with parents who did... but I sort of drifted above all that for most of my life. I understand the concept of a higher power and all that... but believing in it seems foolish." A higher power wouldn't have let his parents torture him all those years... he couldn't even talk about that, much less explain it for any sort of clarity.

"Well... you're in for a rude awakening. Beyond the wall is Hell. Screaming, gnashing of teeth, burning hell; souls begging for reprieve, the whole nine yards. It's all in the Bible... But there seems to be a hell for every creature. Whether they're aliens, or interdimensional, or... illusions to keep us afraid is beside the point. That, for instance," She pointed, and for the first time, he noticed they'd reached the wall. Could they really have gone that far in so little time? The dimensions of this place were all fucked up! Not even his closet seemed as big as it was...

Antony followed the line of her eyes and gasped loudly. There was a pavilion full of... things. Big, bulbous, gray creatures with snuffling snouts sitting there in complete silence. They were watching as two more of them pushed a ball slowly around the court with their elongated snouts. The arena was set in the center of a massive burning field. Liquid flames licked across the sand and the base of the pavilion but went no further. Sometimes one of the creatures would get up and try to leave through the flames only to find itself back in the same seat they'd left. Antony watched in fascinated horror. The creatures seemed trapped within the confines of the arena, unable to escape the burning field that surrounded them. Antony's heart raced as he realized the true nature of the spectacle he was witnessing.

"That's probably torture somewhere, right?" He had to agree and looked down at his feet quickly. Heat was licking up through the sand, and he took a step back. "Two feet away, like I said; otherwise, it pulls you in." His hand reached for hers, and Tabatha squeezed the shaky fingers. "Here it comes..." The fear in her voice drew his eyes to hers, and she pointed again.

"Have you read Dante's Inferno at all? It was all made up, but I think somehow, with pure luck, he managed to get a few things right. I think Hell does have levels that get progressively worse as you descend into it." Antony met her gaze with a frown, and she nodded across the wall again.

"That's biblical... But I do believe there's worse out there." Her hushed whisper barely registered in his fear-curdled brain. "Is it real?" He choked out the question, but he knew instinctively it was only her hand that stopped him from running. His first instinct was to start running, and it didn't matter where to; he just needed to be anywhere else!

Oceans of lava and fire ebbed and crested as the remains of the living writhed and screamed through bloodless mouths! Tall hooded figures stood on the shores and leisurely kicked at clutching hands begging for a reprieve from the pain and agony. The stench of burning flesh and the cacophony of anguished cries filled the air, suffocating him with terror.

The realization dawned on him that this was no nightmare but a glimpse into a horrifying reality beyond comprehension.

They had spears with evil points that jabbed at an unlucky soul here and there. They were utterly black, and he was sure if one were to turn around, you wouldn't be able to discern any features. Clawed fingers clutched the spear as a snicker of mirth escaped after he'd jabbed at another burning corpse.

The only sounds amid the screams and wails of agony were a kind of burning rush like you'd hear in a forest fire. A sound that burrowed past the rational mind and flipped all the panic switches. Antony took another step back, and Tabatha slipped her other hand around his wrist to hold him still. "They can't see us." She whispered up at him, but he was so engrossed in the gruesome sight that he hardly heard her.

Antony couldn't help but let his eyes follow the plume of thick, oily smoke up into the sky, and his cry made Tabatha jerk. She well remembered her own terrified reaction. The flames danced higher, casting an eerie glow on their surroundings. Tabatha tightened her grip on Antony's wrist, silently praying for safety as they watched the fire consume everything in its path.

Tumbling into the fire, carried by the smoke, were the mangled bodies of screaming souls. "Those are the dead, Antony. Look long enough, and you'll see your own face reflected back at you. Look away?" It took him a moment to tear his gaze away and focus on his feet; for a split second, he'd seen the faces of his parents. "How do you know all this?" The note of horror in his husky voice made her shiver involuntarily.

"There was an old lady after I came across from the living who taught me how to survive here. She... was pulled across." This time the strangled pain in her voice drew his eyes to hers. "What do you mean?" Tabatha pointed, and he looked across to find a lone figure standing between the lake and the wall. "She's neither here nor there... I think the wall drew her across and--" Tabatha didn't know how to continue and stifled a heartfelt sob.

A fire-blackened shroud hung on skeletal shoulders; her feet were on fire, and when she tried to move, the eating flames would reach higher to her knees, so she stopped and cried instead. "Diane. She's been there ever since, and I'm deathly afraid I might join her. I don't know if I might be dying ever so slowly on the other side. I might never wake up. So I'm going to tell you what she told me. Pray for forgiveness; the moment you wake up, scream for forgiveness as loudly as you can. It doesn't matter what you did or that you thought you were vindicated in doing it. Repent, because you don't want to end up there. Then you start looking for God."

Antony let his eyes drift back to the old woman and sighed when he noticed others also standing in the field of fire. Lost son, he thought; they were all lost.

"What is that?" His voice was barely a whisper, and she followed the line of his finger as he pointed to a distant figure loping closer to the lake leisurely. The large, crawling thing was shrouded in thick, black, matted hair that drifted above the fire like tendrils of smoke. When it neared, he found that it wasn't crawling at all. It was some kind of upside-down demon crab walking on all fours like some hideous spider.

"Tabatha." He took another step back, and she held onto him tightly. "That's a demon... or a variety of demon at least. I call them catchers." She whispered very softly, and they watched the catcher dive into the lake of fire with an inhuman howl of glee. The misshapen head turned to find the closest burning corpse, and it simply reached over, lifted it with a claw, and squeezed until the corpse exploded in a shower of blood and fire. More catcher demons joined it in the lake and headed for the plume of smoke at a leisurely swim.

Then they started plucking corpses from the smoke to toss them onto their bellies. When they'd gathered enough, they headed back to the shore and shambled off into the distance like so many scurrying spiders.

"Where are they taking them?" Antony made sure to keep his voice a near whisper, and his fingers tightened around hers. "To another level for torture, I think. We should go now." Tabatha swallowed deep and turned back to the compound.

"You ever have night terrors? Sleep paralysis?" Antony nodded at her strange question and resisted looking across his shoulder at the now fast-receding wall. "I think those are the night terrors... and I also think they do the knocking at night?" Antony frowned deeply and cleared his throat.

"You mean they come across the wall?" She nodded slightly before looking up at his pensive gaze. "They're the whisperers when someone comes across; the knockers at night and... the terrors of nightmares. Except down here the nightmares are real... and you don't wake up. They're the ones who catch you and take you. Catchers."

Well, Antony thought if he hadn't been scared shitless before, now he was beyond any level of fear he'd ever felt. "How do you survive here, Tabatha? How are you not insane yet?" Slim shoulders shrugged. "I remember the rules."

The walk back to the compound was over in a blink, and she hobbled a bit as the stilettos returned to torture her toes. "Time for lunch." Antony tried to shrug the horror from his mind and took a deep gulp of air to still his racing heart. "How do you know?" He said simply for the need to say something, anything not related to what he'd just witnessed. "You don't feel the tugging because I'm guiding you. You'll get the hang of it soon enough."

They found seats again, and he'd never been less hungry than at that moment, but he ate because he was afraid not to. "If that was Hell... then there must be a Heaven?" Tabatha nodded around a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly on brown. "And God in it?" She nodded again and watched him eat the stale burger.

"You get glimpses of light as the sky opens just the merest fraction. It's... like the light that brought me here. There really is a God, Antony... And He is the light. I wish I could wake up and scream it at the top of my lungs, but day after day I'm stuck here with the prowling catchers at night and the scream of fear locked in my throat." She took a deep breath to calm herself. "I need to tell you about the entertainment." She tugged at her shirt again, then finished her coffee.

Antony was still staring down at his empty plate, deep in thought. "I don't believe in God." He murmured slowly, and she reached for his hand. "Yes, you do. I honestly believe that when you open your eyes back in the living, you'll know for sure, or you'll deny it so vehemently you'll join them in the lake. After everything you just saw, Antony, how can you not believe in God? He's real and true."

Antony watched her fingers rest across his and pinned her with a half smile. "What's this entertainment you keep talking about?" Tabatha leaned forward and rapped her knuckles on the table for the bit of reality it sounded like. He'd changed the subject, and she wondered why.

"We put on a show for the others. You're an exceedingly talented actor, which means you'll probably be the worst actor ever on stage. I used to be able to carry a pretty fine tune, so naturally I sound like a foghorn giving birth to an elephant. Once you step on the stage, it'll happen by itself; just let it happen. Whatever it is takes over and lets you go when they're done watching. It's like being a puppet on a string." She was chuckling at the perplexed look on his face and tugged a hand through her dark hair.

"Who?" Again, she thought, those expressive eyes did all the talking he couldn't do. "Do you really want to know? I don't. You hear the laughter, and that's it. Close your eyes if you have to until it's done. Don't get mad at your nonexistent acting skills and... laugh at yourself. That works pretty well to stop you from screaming instead. Tonight I get to sing a lovely rendition of Barbie Girl in a pink tutu, twirling inexpertly around a stripper pole. I'm always an inept stripper for some reason." Antony couldn't help his laughter at that, and she laughed with him for the comfort it gave him.

"You'll be doing Hamlet... and if I know them, as I do by now, in drag. Lots of fun." That held him in quiet, fascinated contemplation for a long moment. "I've done Hamlet on Broadway. To be or not to be seems to be a good question around here, so I'm just gonna be." Tabatha agreed and reached out to pat his shoulder companionably. "Do or be is neither here nor there, said the cat to the fox after he killed the hen and orphaned the chicks." Antony leaned in at that bit of nonsense and captured her dark eyes.

"It's nonsense, in other words. Life is nonsense down here because there isn't any life. Remember what I told you, and you'll be fine for as long as you're here. As soon as you try to understand the dynamics that hold us all here, it'll pull you in, and knocking at the door will be the least of your nightmares." They shared a long look pregnant with questions, and she sat back a bit knowing he'd want to know more now.

"Where do children go?" Antony didn't disappoint, and she took a breath. Her eyes lifted to his briefly. "Children get locked in comas too... right? Childhood dementia is rare, but it happens. Where do they go?" Rubbing at her eyes, she leaned back in her chair and pinned him with a narrow-eyed stare.

"It stands to reason they'd have a special place not filled with demons. Maybe like hell this place has levels too... if that's where we are. I call it hell for want of a better description because we're certainly not in heaven. This is why I started calling it the Between."

Antony sat forward and met her steady gaze. "You think this is someplace other than Purgatory?" Tabatha shrugged and looked around her carefully. "Purgatory is somewhere sinners go to await judgment; in here they have time to redeem themselves, right? Doesn't it make sense that there'd be more people here... lucid people like you and me? Almost everyone here-- " She stopped and tugged a hand through her dark hair.

"Dementia, Alzheimer's... suicides gone wrong resulting in vegetative states? It all has to do with the mind... not so much the sin. Most of them cannot even remember their sins. Who knows if Victor really killed a boy? He tried to commit suicide, but did he really kill a child? If this is purgatory, where are the violent criminals, the serial killers, and monsters? Coma patients are a dime a dozen, but there are almost none of the violent ones here. You see my point? This isn't Purgatory... this is somewhere else. This is where vacant minds go, and mine apparently... and yours."

Antony bit down on his lower lip and noticed her wringing her hands on the table before her without noticing. "You don't like talking about this." He stated, and she agreed. "I don't, because it leads to other questions." He leaned in a bit more. "Like what?" Tabatha so wanted to tell him to stop with the line of questioning but decided against it just this once.

"Who are the waiters we need to tip? Where does the music come from? Why does the sun look like a light bulb? And where are the shadows? Who do we entertain? Why do our rooms accommodate all our habits? It almost grows around you, right?" He nodded quietly, and she felt an anxious nausea beset her.

"Why do our shoes disappear when we walk on the sand, and last but not least, why do we need to be on the hill when someone comes over?" She cleared her throat and drummed her fingers on the table for a moment.

"Staying sane means not asking those questions, because I suspect the answers will be too horrifying to comprehend. So I don't try to answer them. Satisfied?" Antony nodded solemnly and pushed his plate to the side.

"I always need to know the why. Even as a child, I wanted to know everything about everything. I research a role until there's nothing more to learn, until it's so easy to just step into the role and be the character and sometimes forget who I am. I didn't want to upset you like this by asking questions no one can know the answers to." Tabatha smiled slowly and toyed with her empty plastic cup for a moment before she felt ready to answer.

"Hence my need to work in a library. I loved my job so much. I think children have somewhere safe where they are loved and cared for; to answer your question." Charles from Vancouver ambled over and touched her shoulder furtively.

"Everyone is here; we need to practice." Tabatha pressed her lips together and smiled into his almost vacant blue eyes. "Will you help me round them up, please, Charles?" His nod was as quick as his touch had been, and she watched him amble off to herd the others together gently.

"I think he must have been a caregiver of some sort in the living. Well, come along then, and we'll practice keeping our eyes closed." Antony's brows went up, and she grinned at the look on his face. "It's vital to keep your eyes closed when someone comes over. I help them to remember how to keep their eyes shut."

Antony woke during the night to the sound of screaming. It was the agonizing, bloodcurdling type of scream that reached into your hindbrain and flipped the switches of your primal fear center. It was a sound Hollywood was yet to perfect.

"What the fuck..." He breathed in the semidarkness and sat up on his bed uneasily. Knock. Knock.

The knock at the door was somehow a louder noise than the screaming, and he sat staring at the locked door. The hair on the back of his neck was prickling. "Let me in, Antony?" It was Tabatha, he thought and he stopped himself before he stood. Tabatha had the key to his door, so why would she knock?

"Let me in, Antony?" Came the urgent entreaty again, and he pressed his lips together before he scooted back so he could rest against the wall. Don't answer it, don't go near the door... stay quiet and safe. Those were her words. She wouldn't be outside in the night anyway.

"I'm so scared, Antony. Come on? Open up?" It wheedled; the voice was distorted now, and he heard the scratching as whatever it was tried to manipulate the door handle. Antony's hands went to his brow as he clamped his jaw shut furiously.

"Tony... it's Mommy. Be a good boy and open the door. Mommy won't hurt you this time. Open up, open up?" That did it. Fear turned his blood to ice, and he reached for his pillow to hide his face as he drew his legs onto the bed and pulled himself into a ball. His mother was dead, shot to death. he was there and could still see all the blood. That couldn't be her, unless hell had sent her for him! Knock. Knock.

Breathing hard into the pillow, he watched the door. Somehow he knew whatever it was out there was waiting for him to make a sound. "Open the door, useless child! Tony! You will eat your dinner!" His father's voice bellowed before silence engulfed the night again.

Antony closed his mind to the fear and took a deep breath before he tucked the pillow beneath his head again and took a deep, steadying breath. It was gone. "Whatever this is, please God, make it stop..." He whispered raggedly and wiped at the tears that wet his cheeks.

Tabatha was in much the same situation across the footpath, and even if Antony had known and wanted to help, she had his door key. The screaming belonged to Victorious Victor; she'd heard it enough to know the sound by heart. At least he couldn't open his door this time.

In the dark she closed her fingers around the three room keys in her palm and ignored the insistent voice of her father beseeching her to let him in.

"Come along then, Tabby girl. Let me in? It's cold out here, Mouse." She bit down on her lip and closed her eyes as her fingers tightened around the keys. Three knocks, then silence, and she shut her eyes.

Victor had stopped screaming...

Morning woke her, and she dressed quickly before unlocking her door with a racing heart. There was just always something about turning the key that scared her. Fear of the unknown was a constant companion, but she'd learned to trust her instincts. Breakfast, her mind said, and she swung the door open and stepped over to unlock Antony. She found him inside sitting on his bed holding the pamphlet.

"Hey..." She tried a smile and frowned instead at the tears that clung to his cheeks. "What's wrong, Antony?" He held out the pamphlet, and she shrugged. "I won't see what you do. What does it say?" His legs unfolded, and his feet hit the ground before he cleared his throat and wiped across his lips.

"Job 3... why is light given to him who is in misery and life to the bitter of soul, 21 who long for death, but it does not come, and search for it more than hidden treasures...?" His deep voice drifted off, and Tabatha pulled up the chair and sat down opposite him with a sigh.

"Well, Job lost everything he owned, his children... all of it. His light was God, and his misery was all Satan's doing. Job was being tested, and he never forsakes God. What do you think it means?"

Antony sat forward and set the paper down by his side. "Why is light given to a bitter soul? I longed for death so many times, but it always felt as if not even God wanted me. So I lived my life on the feel-good principle. If it feels good, do it; if it makes the bitter taste better... just do it. I don't know what I'm doing here, Tabatha... and it scares me. What scares me more is knowing I'm bound for hell, and I saw hell and... is it too late?" Tabatha reached for his hand, and she folded the long fingers around hers.

"Job was a righteous man... I'm not. What are they trying to tell me?" Her lips pressed together for a moment, and then she cleared her throat. "Did you try and commit suicide?" His sea-blue eyes narrowed, and he leaned into her. "... and search for it more than hidden treasures. I've never wanted to be alive. Now I'm here in the space between life and death, and death still hasn't found me. I remember driving, then the dog and then there was a guardrail, and instead of turning away, I... floored it. I didn't even try to avoid the accident. Is that why I'm here?"

Tabatha's hands tightened around his, and then he leaned back and stood with a sigh of despair. "I don't know why you're here, Antony. I don't even know why I'm here. I do know this about Job, though: he stayed true to his faith in God even when he was begging for death. God wasn't done with him... and the words on the gate did tell you that sin hasn't claimed your soul yet. There's hope for you!" Antony turned to her and nodded quietly. "Maybe..."

He met her dark eyes for a long moment and headed into the closet for something to wear. "If it's pink, I'm gonna really lose it." He mumbled as he stepped inside, and she tried to understand his plight as she looked over at the closed door.

"Who was screaming?" He asked a moment later as he appeared in torn jeans and a vest full of rainbows and peace signs. For a moment he looked into the mirror and then ran both hands across his face disgustedly. "Victorious Victor." Tabatha lifted his key from her pocket and looked down at it for a long moment.

"Why does he call himself that?" He sat down to shrug into the sneakers, which had the sense to stay sneakers, and looked up to find her staring at the door again. "Opposites... duality; this place thrives on it. He was a loser of the worst sort in life, I think, but when he showed up here, that was the name on his door. I have no idea what it means. You ready?"

The shrug was lazy, and she couldn't help but just let her eyes slip over the broad shoulders now visible beneath the vest. There really was so much of him to like, but she hadn't bargained on him telling her he'd tried suicide. That had thrown her, and she reached up to tug at her top for the comfort it gave. Such were the things that kept her sane.

"Sure... what's on the menu?" Tabatha just shrugged and stood to tug at the hem of the miniskirt irritably. Fishnets, hooker heels, and denim were on her menu today... and as always, the crop top. At least it was pink; she liked pink.

"Not very much. I have to unlock Victor and see what state he's in. Will you protect me?" Antony smiled and opened his door with a grin. "Why, certainly, little lady." The John Wayne accent made her giggle, and she led the way.

Victor was on the floor of his bedroom when she unlocked the door, and she entered holding her breath. Anything could happen. "Victor?" She asked softly and noticed that Antony was scanning the walls of the room. "Gardens?" He asked, and she nodded with a shrug and a how-should-I-know look.

"Victor?" She said it again and stretched out her hand to touch his shoulder furtively. He recoiled from her touch, and the screams erupted from his throat in a torrent! Tabatha jumped back against Antony's chest, and his arms went around her instinctively as he took two steps back to the door, still holding her.

"What's happening?" He cried by her ear, and she gasped when he lifted her feet from the ground and left the room. He sat her down outside, and she wobbled a bit on the heels. "I don't know." Her voice was lost in the sudden music that ripped through the sky, and she clapped her hands across her ears.

It was a discordant, resonant mess of screaming guitars that coaxed a shriek from her chest. The sound was lost in the maelstrom, though, but she tried to reach for Victor when he bolted past her, still screaming like a maniac, and took off down the cobbles in a dead run.

Tabatha followed without thought, and Antony was right behind her. His stride was longer, though, and he simply reached over and lifted her up across his shoulder as he followed the running man while the cacophony sliced through the air madly!

Victor headed into the desert, and Antony finally set her down on the sand, and they followed together. The naked, screaming Victor was running for the wall, and Tabatha called his name over and over. Until finally he stopped and turned to her. "Oh dear--" She gasped, and Antony reached for her hand to stop her from getting closer to Victor.

"I cut it off and shot myself! I cut it off! I cut it off!" Victor screamed, and Antony swallowed hard. Where his manhood was supposed to be was a gaping, bleeding hole. "I wanted to do it again! I wanted to kill another boy and bury him in my garden! In my garden! The garden! Bleeding roses and screaming thorns! Knock! Knock! It's the devil!" Screaming again, he turned to the wall, and Tabatha cried out for him to step away.

Antony saw the catcher coming, though, and half dragging her, he headed in the opposite direction. There was no way he was getting dragged into hell just fucking yet!

Tabatha stumbled, and he dropped to his knees beside her, and as if hypnotized, they both turned back to the wall just in time to see the catcher reach across and pick up the screaming Victor. They watched it carry the screaming man into the lake of fire with racing hearts as the flames consumed him. The flames had consumed him, and they couldn't see him anymore, but they could still hear his screams echoing in their minds.

"We gotta go?" He breathed softly, and she just shook her head. "It didn't see us." She whispered back and wiped at her tearing eyes. "It didn't see us. I-" Her chest hitched, and he drew her into a warm embrace easily. Tabatha clung to the sense of safety she hadn't felt in so long and dug her nose into his chest, if only to remember how this felt. He wasn't going to be here long! She had to make him understand!

"Let's get going before it does see us, please." Antony stood and pulled her to her feet beside him. She was sobbing, and he kept his arm around her shoulders as they headed back to the compound.

"I tried to keep him safe. That's why I locked him in his room, and..." Her voice drifted off when she noticed the silence, and she lifted her eyes to the sky. "We need to get inside." She murmured and started running. As before, Antony lifted her up across his shoulder and did the running for her.

They stumbled into her room moments later, and he closed the door definitely. Tabatha sat down heavily on her bed and ran both hands across her face to stifle a sob. "What's going on?" He was pacing, and she spent a moment just looking at him. Antony was towering, flustered, and scared, and she didn't blame him in the least.

"It's going to come looking for us tonight. We shouldn't have chased him, but I thought I could talk to him at least." Antony felt his chest hitch as a ball of ice landed in his belly. "What do we do?" Tabatha swallowed hard and looked around her room. "We lock the door and stay inside." Lunging to her feet unsteadily, she reached the door and locked it decisively. "I thought I couldn't stay with you?" She nodded quickly and took a few steps away.

"It should be fine. It feels like it'll be fine." Anxious now, she slipped off her shoes and pulled out the chair for him. "Are you sure? What happens if it's not?" Her slim shoulders shrugged, and he took a step closer to her worriedly. "It... it's dark, which means I'm not going outside, and neither are you. We're safe in here. I don't know how I know, Antony; I just know that I do. So sit down and take a deep breath." He obeyed without thinking; that was the librarian's voice at work.

"The catcher would have taken him last night if I hadn't locked him in." His sea blue eyes held hers for a second. "What does that mean?" Tabatha frowned down at her feet and touched a hand to his shoulder. "He either woke up or died. When they wake up, they just disappear... and the name on the door is gone, and it's over for them. I've never seen a catcher reach across and take him. The knocking was pretty intense last night, though. You?" He nodded quickly and pressed his lips together.

"You were calling me, but I knew it wasn't you because you wouldn't be outside in the dark, so I just kept quiet. Then he started screaming, and... were they--" He didn't finish his sentence, and she shook her head quickly. "If you woke up or died, you wouldn't have been there this morning. No, his crime was horrific, so they came for him personally. All those gardens on the walls. I wonder how many children he raped and killed." She was the one pacing now, and he reached out a steady hand to pull her to a stop.

"I'd rather not dwell on that. You said it was night already?" The slight nod made him frown, and he took her other hand. "So we were out there running all day?" Nod again, and he pulled her in closer. "This is all so fucked up. It's just really very fucked up. I... need a hug." A smile tilted the corners of her lips as she stepped in closer and wrapped her arms around his neck to rest his cheek to her chest. Long arms looped around her tightly, and she had to admit that she needed this hug even more than he did.

"If we stay quiet in here, we'll be safe. Small and quiet and safe..." Shivery fingers combed through his hair, and he closed his eyes as he tried to bring his mind into some kind of focus. "Safe." He breathed. "Safe. Oh please God, help us be safe." Her eyes closed as the almost childish prayer spilled over his lips, and she hugged tighter for a moment before she stepped away and looked down at the floor, listening.

"It's very quiet. I hope the others are alright. They'd know to go to their rooms, though. You've certainly upset the equilibrium of this place." Antony looked down at his hands and tried like hell not to let the fear that closed up his throat take him. If he gave in to it, he'd be lost; he knew it.

Tabatha scooted across the bed to rest her back against the wall and frowned down at her bare feet. After a second, he joined her and let out a long, tired sigh. "You gonna tell me a story, Miss Librarian? You must know lots of stories." She couldn't help her chuckle and reached for the pamphlet beneath her pillow. "That is something I do rather well, thank you. Let me see... She unfolded the paper and cleared her throat.

"Three Rings for the Elvenkings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne. In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them. In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie." She cleared her throat and started reading again.

"Suddenly Frodo noticed that a strange-looking weather-beaten man, sitting in the shadows near the wall, was also listening intently to the hobbit-talk. He had a tall tankard in front of him and was smoking a long-stemmed pipe curiously carved. His legs were stretched out before him..." After she'd finished, she set the paper down and looked over at him.

Antony was listening politely and quirked a brow at her in question when she stopped. "Didn't I read that you read for the role of Aragorn?" He nodded quickly and lifted his arms behind his neck to stretch.

"My agent half-forced me into it. I'm not Aragorn material at all. I wouldn't have known how to play him. Viggo was much better at it. I'd have liked to read for Eomer instead... he was badass. Also, and this is a lesser-known fact, I was almost cast as Celeborn, Galadriel's husband. Though he was so underplayed in the movies. He's thousands of years old, older than Gandalf... in the books he was this stately, silver creature that just ruled. Cool character... just not written well in the movie." He happened to glance at the paper in her hands and frowned at the single line of scripture there.

"I did not know that. Tell me something about yourself that's not about acting, Antony." He frowned a bit and folded his arms across his chest before clearing his throat. "There isn't very much more to me than acting. I live in New York with... someone. Suppose I'm a bit of a chameleon. I adapt to my surroundings and... do the thing I need to do to get me to the next thing." He kept his eyes on his legs as he talked, and he looked over as she folded the paper.

"I remember reading about her, Jessa Blake, right? You don't sound very enthusiastic about her." Antony shrugged his broad shoulders, and she knew she'd hit on a bit of a nerve there. "I don't know really. You don't try to commit suicide when you're happy and fulfilled, right? She takes care of all the stuff around me. She's more a personal assistant than anything else. That's... pretty fucked up, right? She agreed and shrugged.

"Do you love her?" This time he looked over at her and tried to discern the look in her inky eyes as the room dipped into near darkness. "No. I don't think I've ever loved anybody. It's convenient. Have you ever loved someone?" No, she thought, not until you showed up here... But that was silly, so she pushed the thought away and sighed.

"No... I hate when it goes quiet like this." His ears perked up too, and she sat closer to him without realizing she was doing it. It felt so good to have someone in here with her for a change. "Are you tired?" The timbre of his baritone slipped through the silence, and she nodded. "I am. We should probably get some kind of sleep while it's still quiet. How do we do this?"

A slow smile parted his lips, and she couldn't help her blush. "None of that. I'll take the wall, and you can have the front." Antony grinned and moved so she could stretch out; then he joined her on his side, turned to the door, and lay there staring at it.

"I hope you find love someday, Antony." She whispered on the cusp of sleep as she rested her cheek against his back, and he sighed at the futility of that. "So do I..." He murmured before slipping into sleep as well.

Knock. Knock. Tabatha started awake at the sudden sound and pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp. She was hidden behind Antony's back against the wall, and she could hear him wake up too. Her arm snaked around his waist as his arm quietly slipped around her and held tight.

Knock. Knock. They both held their breath, but she couldn't help her gasp as the knocking turned into loud banging. It was scratching the door, and the snuffling sound was incredibly loud in the silence. Something howled, and the thing outside the door howled in response before it scratched loudly at the door again! Tabatha pressed herself to his back as firmly as she could and held onto him.

Knock. Bang! Bang! It howled again, and then it finally gave up and left. Both of them just lay there listening as the running grew fainter and fainter, and the night was quiet again. She wasn't sure how long they lay there clutching at each other before he finally whispered a sigh of relief. "It's gone." His voice was barely a whisper, and she let out her breath slowly.

Antony turned jerkily and pulled her to his chest tightly. She just let him hold her as she dug her nose into his hard chest. "I'm scared I'm never going to wake up from this nightmare." The warmth of her voice against his chest drew one hand into her hair, and he agreed. "Me too."

The night outside erupted into a snarl of wails and yowls, and his arms tightened around her as he shut his eyes against the insane fear that burned in his mind. "We're safe in here." Tabatha whispered and just held onto him with all her might. "Oh God, please let us be safe in here..."

"Isn't it strange that nothing in the living seems as important as it once did? You take for granted that the clothes you wear are going to be what you want them to be, or that the burgers are going to stay fresh... or that shoes will fit. I took my entire life for granted, and I thought I'd have years and years left to travel and live the life I read about in books, but I never imagined I'd be locked in limbo like this." She was sitting on the chair in his room the following morning.

After much deliberation, she'd trusted her instincts and unlocked her door to a dim morning. Steadfastly she'd headed for his door, and he couldn't help looking around him warily. The discordant music was back, and he had to admit the tune was oddly comforting after the howling of the previous night. All along the row, people emerged from their rooms and headed to the mess hall. He couldn't help wondering if they'd heard the hellhounds too.

"After yesterday, even the music sounds beautiful." She nodded and pressed her lips together as she watched him slip into a too-tight white t-shirt with a unicorn on the front. Oof... she could watch him do that all day.

"I see the fishnet is back." He touched a furtive hand to her knee as he sat down on the bed, and she just frowned at him sarcastically. "Doesn't it go well with the boob tube and hot pants? I thought it was rather fetching... and look at the height of these fucking heels? They are so comfy." She lifted a leg to show off the plastic hooker heels, and he couldn't help but just laugh with her.

"Capri pants and flip-flops so go with the vibe of this whole place, sweetie." He tossed his hair and flopped a wrist at her with an exaggerated giggle, and she couldn't help just loving him for it.

"That's the spirit. You'll get the hang of all this. Do you want to go stare at the sand after breakfast? Not much to do around here until lunch, and Charles from Vancouver and the girls are entertaining tonight. Everything seems to be back to normal, or at least normal for this place." Antony nodded and watched as she stood easily while tugging at her top.

"The girls?" She nodded and opened the door to step outside. "The Alzheimer girls. Abigail something, Vanessa who used to live in a city, and Dimity, who might be Lorraine. They don't know who they were up there, and their minds are stuck in that mode. I don't think Charles has ever been to Vancouver, but he'll tell you all about it if you feel like listening." Trailing slightly behind, Antony followed her hips to the mess hall and took a plate.

They found an empty table and sat down. Charles from Vancouver sat down beside her, and she tried to smile into his watery blue eyes. "Did they take Victor?" She nodded, and her hands stilled on the cover of the plate.

"We all heard him scream and stayed inside like you taught us. Everyone is safe after the hounds last night." This time the smile reached her eyes, and she patted his hand. "I'm glad, Charles." He patted her hand after a moment, then stood with a grin over at Antony. "I'll go and fetch you some coffee. Harmony is not here." Tabatha's smile faded, and she sat up a bit to have a look around.

"Maybe she's just late? I'll go see when we're done." They watched him amble off, and she looked at the cover of her plate for a long moment. "They wouldn't have taken her... she's harmless." Tabatha stated the fact more to placate herself than to inform Antony.

"I really can't eat this." Antony said and pushed the plate away with a groan. "What's wrong with scrambled eggs?" She asked confusedly and looked down at her bowl of oatmeal. "I... it's--" He stopped himself and ran both hands across his face as anxiety blossomed in his chest. They were not making him eat scrambled eggs. He'd suffer the hunger, but they couldn't make him do that!

"You won't get anything else all day if you don't eat it. Just close your eyes and swallow?" Antony leaned back in his chair and pinned her with a sea blue gaze that closed up her throat. "Tell me?" He responded to the soothing tone of her voice and pressed his lips together. "After yesterday... what we shared? Can you tell me? Who am I going to tell?" He was still just watching her, and then he leaned forward and looked down at the oatmeal she was eating.

"My mother force-fed me when I was a kid. I'd throw up, and she'd beat me and shovel in the next spoonful of eggs. I don't know why she did it. I can't do it..." Tabatha's jaw fell lax as her large doe eyes searched his. "There's more?" She whispered, and he nodded. "So much more, but I'd rather be hungry. I've been hungry in my life, and I can handle it, but I can't eat that."

Tabatha reached for the cover of his plate and set it over the eggs with a sigh. "They're pushing you so hard. Maybe that means you won't be here that long, and they need to get a point across about sin and forgiveness and... hell." Antony leaned back into his chair again and watched as she finished her oatmeal quickly.

When she finally stood and reached for his hand, he realized he'd follow this woman anywhere. If she led him off a cliff, he'd... jump. In this strange fucking place, she was somehow the only sanity left. As long as he held onto her, he'd be fine, but what did she have to hold onto? Where did she go alone in the dark... with the hounds howling and screaming? Where did her mind go?

They finally reached a familiar-looking nondescript door, and Tabatha reached out to touch the blank wood. "She's gone. Her name is gone. Do you think they came for her instead?" Antony shrugged and slipped a hand across her shoulder to rest around the back of her neck soothingly. He felt her lean into the touch and bit down on his lip. What if he woke up, or died, and left her here alone... to face whatever had come for Harmony?

"She might have been deserving? You only knew her name, and as you said, she was pretty vacant and far gone. Who knew who she really was?" Tabatha agreed and touched the door again. "That's the problem with everyone here. I don't dwell on that question pretty vigorously for a reason. Who knows who they used to be out there? Do you still want to watch the sand with me?" She started walking in the opposite direction, and he watched her move for a second and felt his chest hitch at the strange emotion she evoked in him.

Antony followed her quietly to the edge of the sand. "So... do you come here often?" Tabatha burst into laughter, and he watched her with a grin. She didn't step off the path and sat down modestly, tugging at her top again. She made sure not to touch the sand with her feet, and he joined her while doing the same.

"Two days ago you seemed to like the sand." Dark eyes lifted to his, and she cast her eyes to the horizon. "I wanted to get to the wall. Today... not so much. I've had enough of that for a bit. What made you lose your faith, Antony?" Elbows rested on his knees, and he found the straps of the pink flip-flops with a grimace. "What made you lose yours? I'll tell you if you tell me." Tabatha tugged at her top and tried to formulate a reply to that loaded question.

"Complacency. Grew up with a single father who worked a dead-end job in a diner, which means I grew up under the counter. He bought me books to keep me quiet, and I meandered along for so long that I just accepted the mundane. Went to school, worked in the library, became head librarian... and that's where my life ended. Papa died, and I stood at his grave and wondered if the God he prayed to every night really existed. Started reading up on it; I read anything I could find in the library and online and finally came to the conclusion that no one knows for sure. I recognized that He must be real, but belief seemed like too much work. Here I am... and I'd give anything for one more chance to just open myself up and pour every bit of true belief into my soul that I can. I wasted so much time telling myself I didn't care. Your turn?" Antony reached around her shoulders for the comfort it gave and took a deep breath. He might as well come clean, and who better to tell than her?

"My parents were sociopaths, and I was their favorite toy. At night when my father came home from the bar, where he worked and drank, Mama would fetch me from my room and put me on the chair in the kitchen. She'd start reading from the Bible while she drank, and I had to remember what she read... or they'd beat me. I have a perfect memory because my mind is too scared to forget. Some nights I'd hide under the bed and listen to her head up the stairs and open my door. Sometimes she was too drunk to reach me where I hid under the bed, and on nights like those I closed my eyes and... prayed. Nobody ever saved me, Tabatha. I... ran away when I was fifteen and pimped out this tall, perfect body that you seem to admire so much. Starved myself because I couldn't eat and ended up being chosen for a Calvin Klein photo shoot. They liked me emaciated. Modeling brought in the money, and I created Dade Holden from there." He was quiet for a long moment as he tried not to stare at the wall. She noticed and slipped a hand across his knee in comfort.

"Met a talent scout who got me into acting and... sex has never been something I enjoyed. Boy or girl... or mouth, it's just a means to an end. My parents went to those hyper-charismatic churches, and I'd sit there and think that I didn't want anything to do with their god. How do I believe in anything? All I've been doing all my life is surviving." She leaned into his embrace a bit more and felt him do the same.

"Isn't this conviction enough that there is a God, Antony? Look where we are! Do you remember saying this is a place where souls wait to be forgiven or condemned?" Antony nodded and rested his cheek against her hair, if only to draw a bit of comfort from her. "I'd like to be forgiven for not believing." Coming from her, that made sense, but his life had been thrust upon him, so why did he need to be forgiven? Because you killed them, Tony... that's why. Because you killed your parents and ran away like a coward and created an entirely new person. That's why. But he couldn't tell her that.

"Your parent's sin was not yours even though you bore the brunt of their abuse. Why we suffer abuse at all is something I've wondered about and read about. Evil is not of God. The devil across the wall is the lord of the living. He corrupted mankind in an attempt to attain godhood for himself. Pride is the ultimate sin... though I'd be the first one to tell you that what you made of your life despite what they did to you is something to be proud of. The sin of pride is relishing in the sin without any sense of guilt. That's the pride God hates. Your choices, on the other hand, are what landed you up here, but don't you think that maybe He's giving you all these signs because there's still hope for you? Because He loves you?" Antony felt his chest hitch at her words and nodded solemnly. She was right; there had to be a reason for all this. He lived with his guilt every day because how can God forgive him for becoming this debauched creature? How was his soul redeemable?

"I'd like a chance to try--" A gasp tore through his chest as he looked up and saw the light streak across the sky like lightning. "Do you see it?" She asked excitedly and lifted her hands in exultation. Antony sprang to his feet and pulled her up as realization finally settled in his heart.

Warm light bathed them both for a long-lost moment, and Antony felt his chest contract with sadness as the warmth of the light left him bereft. "I'd like to be forgiven. What's your real name, Tabatha?" Considering what they'd just experienced, that seemed an odd question, but she shrugged and tugged at her blouse; it was a habit by now, and she did it without thinking.

"Tabatha Anne Mulvaney from Brooklyn, New York. I used to have a nervous twitch when I was in high school, and from there came Tabatha Twitched... why?" Antony looked down into her soft doe eyes and leaned over to press his mouth to hers urgently.

"Because I'm going to wake up, and I want to know where to find you when I do." Tabatha closed her eyes as he kissed her again and savored the exquisite wave that flooded her body as his beautiful mouth claimed hers deeply.

Then he was gone, and she felt the light as it bathed her skin for a languid second. It felt like a promise, and she couldn't help her heartfelt cries at the loss of the light... and Antony.

Chapter 2

Antony gasped loudly when his eyes opened to the stark sunlight of day! Hands pushed him back down onto a bed, and he looked around wildly for any face he might recognize. Pain ripped up his throat as they removed the tubing, and then he was free to try and scream! There was no sound, though, but a raspy cough that tore through his chest and drew his hands to his throat.

Tabatha Anne Mulvaney from Brooklyn, New York; the thought plastered itself to his mind, and he remembered every minuscule detail with perfect clarity. Tabatha's doe-brown eyes and the screaming demons and the discordant music! It was all crystal clear!

"Calm down, Mr. Holden. You've been in a coma for a week. Try and relax? Someone is calling your partner." Partner, he thought and blanched at the thought of Jessa. They'd been living together for years now, but there was no love between them. He really didn't want her to be here.

The sin that hasn't claimed my soul yet is my lack of true repentance for killing my parents, he realized with a cold dread. Along with unbelief, blasphemy, and fear, it had almost cost him his soul. It couldn't continue, and he didn't want Jessa here to remind him of his debauchery.

"Oh God, forgive me." He murmured in earnest and tried to think clearly in the midst of all this confusion and pain. The Between was real. Tabatha was real and asleep somewhere out there, and he needed to find her. If he could wake up and beg forgiveness, she could too... he couldn't let her end up like the old lady in the fire. He couldn't leave her there all alone!

Finally he was sedated as the pain of his injuries became too much and woke much later to find Jessa beside his bed looking harried and agitated. In a pink button-down with her short, bleached hair coiffed up, she looked exactly as she'd always looked, but where once he'd thought himself attracted to the masculinity of her, all he felt now was disgust.

"I don't want you here... it's over, Jessa." He muttered huskily and touched a shaky hand to his brow. "What are you talking about?" Jessa asked and sat forward rapidly. Antony found the confused fake green eyes and grunted at the pain that shot through his shoulders.

"It's over between us. It's... done. I'm done with this sick thing we have. You're fired, so please just leave." His voice drifted off as Tabatha's brown eyes swam into focus again. "You're still very sick, Dade, and I'm sure you aren't well enough to make a decision like that right now. We can talk about this tomorrow. Just calm down?" Antony wove her hand away before she touched him and struggled against the revulsion that threatened to choke him. Revulsion at what his life had been. Revulsion that he'd let this viper rule so much of his life!

"No... it's over. I need to make this decision and beg forgiveness for being so blind. I saw God, and I saw hell, and... somewhere between the two I found truth. It was never love... you know that. It wasn't even lust; it was a means to an end. This is done." Jessa stood with a decisive nod and tried to make sense of this sudden honesty that had Antony in its grip.

"Fine; you found God. I hope you two are very happy together, Dade. Call me when he dumps you." With that, she headed for the door, and Antony watched sadly. How did he explain any of it and make sense? The only thing that made sense right now was that he needed to beg for forgiveness... and that he needed to find Tabatha.

"Is there someone else we can call for you, Mr. Holden?" The doctor asked worriedly much later that evening, and Dade looked up into the caring eyes quietly. "Yes, my personal doctor, Michael Peterson, at Silver Lake Medical Center." He rambled off the number, and the doctor sent a nurse running and then flipped open his file.

"You have a lot of serious injuries, and you'll be here for a while. I'll explain everything in the morning, though, but you're in good hands, Mr. Holden. I'll make sure Dr. Peterson is sent for immediately." Dade frowned up at the young man and closed his eyes as fatigue pulled him under.

Somewhere deep in the night he heard a commotion by his bed and woke up to Michael Peterson going through his file and making sure he was transferred to the private clinic urgently.

"I've got you, Dae. Jessa kept this entire accident under wraps so well that we only found out when the hospital finally called. I'm getting you transferred, and... I'm so glad you're alive." Michael was earnest in his emotion, and Dade only mouthed his thanks and fell asleep again.

Two weeks later, he left the private clinic on crutches and let his only real friend, Payton, coddle him until he finally felt well enough to get back to his life. He'd be on crutches for at least six more weeks, and his search for Tabatha kept him going as the pain threatened to draw him under.

Dealing with Jessa was a constant headache, and Payton's questions received no real answers because he couldn't tell her what he'd done. He couldn't explain his actions, and he couldn't explain why he suddenly had this need for change. It didn't make sense to her that he'd suddenly found God and religion and wanted to learn everything he could about it. Neither of them was even remotely religious. Their nightly conversations were usually very one-sided, because even though he wanted to tell her everything, he couldn't. He just couldn't.

Finding Tabatha was now uppermost and gave him the focus he needed. That was the thing he needed to do to receive the forgiveness he longed for. It made no sense, but he felt somehow that if he could save her life, then perhaps God would forgive him for taking the lives of his parents.

"I think I found her, Mr. Holden." The private investigator imparted on the phone, and Antony promised to meet him at the care facility in an hour. Then he just sat there on the edge of his borrowed bed, looking down at his hands for the longest moment.

If this was Tabatha and she was still vegetative... what would he do if she couldn't be helped? What if she didn't wake up and he couldn't save her from the dark? How was he going to begin handling that?

A cough slipped past his lips as he drew in a ragged breath and tried to bring his mind under control. No. There was a reason he met her in the Between. There was a reason for all of this, and he refused to believe God would be cruel enough not to let her wake up too. "Please, dear Lord... let it be her. Let me help her." He prayed and then struggled to his feet to reach for the crutches.

"This is Tabby Mulvaney. She's been in a vegetative state for over a year, Mr. Holden. Is she the woman you thought she was?" Antony sat down on the chair she held out by the side of the wheelchair, and his eyes roved over Tabatha's quiet features. A smile tugged at his lips as he reached out to touch a soft cheek almost reverentially.

A scar across her temple corroborated her story, but he didn't need that visible evidence to know this was her. Somewhere behind the vacant brown eyes was the love of his life, and she was still locked in the darkness.

"Yes. It's her. I'd like to speak with her doctors." The nurse sighed sadly and lifted the blanket higher across her knees. "She's a ward of the state. So her doctor is anyone on call. How do you know our Tabby?" Our Tabby, he thought and smiled again. "I met her in a different life." Large hands slipped around hers gently, and he couldn't help the way his hands shook.

"I need all her information, and I'll be moving her to a private clinic for treatment. She's alive in there..." His lips pressed to her fingers warmly. "I can't leave her alone in the dark."

Tabatha stepped onto the sand and felt the coolness of it surround her feet. Today she had the strange compulsion to walk to the hill and watched as all the others joined her one after the other. "He's come for you." Charles from Vancouver said, and the girls nodded with him earnestly. "Who, Charles?" She asked quickly, but he'd meandered off, and she felt the pull tug at her limbs, urging her ever upward.

This was different; something was very different. Instead of the surety that she needed to keep her eyes closed, she felt such a sense of comfort. The last time she'd come close to this kind of comfort had been the day Antony woke up. That was so long ago now.

"Goodbye, Tabatha Twitched." The murmur went up all around her as she stepped into the circle and lifted her hands to the sky. "Goodbye..." The word echoed, and she drifted on the light for a long, warm, soothing moment.

"Tabatha?" The voice drew her blinking eyes, and she managed to swivel her eyes towards the sound. Ocean blue smiled down at her worriedly as large hands folded around hers. "Forgive me--" She mouthed and would have shouted her penitence with all her might if she could make her throat utter a sound!

A warm mouth pressed to hers, and realization dawned in a shiver of pure elation. "You're okay, Tabatha. Shhh..." A gentle hand pressed to her cheek, and she managed to focus on his eyes again as a frown furrowed her brow. "Antony?" She mouthed the word, but with the trachea, she couldn't get the sound out. "Yeah... there you are, sweetheart. They'll take out the tube later. You'll be okay now." His lips pressed to her brow, and then he was gone and replaced by the faces of doctors and nurses, and in the maelstrom, she was sedated again and slipped into sleep.

"She knew me. She said my name... does that mean she's fine?" Antony asked over at the neurosurgeon, Michael Peterson, who nodded his dark head and inspected the EEG chart. "It means that her cognitive abilities are still intact, but don't get your hopes up just yet, Dae. It was a very involved surgery, and until she's fully awake and talking, we won't know the extent of the damage the tumor caused while untreated." Antony nodded quickly and sighed in relief.

Tabatha had recognized him, which meant everything in the Between had really happened. It was all real and true, and here she was within arm's reach. "The ventilator?" Michael nodded again and smiled reassuringly. "She should be weaned off it in about a week if she recovers as quickly as we hoped. They took good care of her, but her muscles are pretty wasted, and she won't be on solid food for at least a month yet. We'll do a feeding tube for a couple of days... but it's all up to her really. Right now she needs a lot of rest and reassurance."

Michael looked up at the tall actor and ran a hand over his full beard. When Dae had first presented her case to him, he'd been intrigued at how certain the tall actor was that she was awake in there. They'd treated her as a blunt force trauma patient initially until he found the mass on the MRI. They'd decided on a course of action, and it wasn't hard to convince her caseworker to sign off on the operation. She had no family and had landed up in a care facility. Dae was her proxy now, and he was taking very good care of her.

The intricacy of the relationship between them wasn't something he talked about, and although they'd discussed her case at some length, Michael hadn't asked too many questions and tried to focus instead on her recovery. It was obvious Dae loved her deeply, and that was enough.

Antony leaned across the bed again and traced a hand through her dark hair with a frown. He could do this; if there was one thing in his life that he knew he could do and succeed in, this was it. She was here and alive, and she'd said his name, and... the torture of not knowing if anything they might do would wake her up was at an end. She'd opened her eyes and recognized him almost instantly.

"You should go get some food and rest, Dae. She's going to be sedated for most of the night, and I'll call you if anything happens. The worst is behind us." Antony reached for the friendly doctor's hand and smiled thankfully. "I lived and breathed this day for four months, Michael. I don't think I could sleep even if I tried. I'm just so thankful... to you and God and... and for all of this." Michael accepted the hefty handshake and watched as Antony moved to her side again and leaned across to press a tender kiss to her brow after tugging her hair from her brow.

"You just stay with me, sweetheart..." He murmured against her ear and just looked at her for a long moment. Then he left, and his feet felt as if they might sprout wings and fly!

The loft apartment he'd shared with Jessa was silent and dark when he got there, and he switched on lights and headed for the kitchen with a sigh. There were a few boxes stacked to one side of the door that she still needed to fetch, and he promised himself if they weren't gone by Wednesday, he'd toss them in the dumpster himself.

Jessa, he thought with a grunt, was turning out to be a nuisance he just couldn't get rid of! How hard could it be to understand that it was over and done with? At first she'd refused to move, and Antony had simply packed a suitcase and moved into a hotel. Then there were the myriad issues of what she could take with her.

Jessa wanted the black and white china they got in Singapore, fine, but she also wanted the bedroom suite and bed... fine. In the end he'd ended up spending an entire night boxing up everything but his own clothes and a few personal belongings and had it moved to her new address. He hated the lounge suite, so Jessa got the lounge suite; he hated the dining room furniture and the curtains and... all of it. He'd made a complete clean sweep and replaced everything right down to the fucking towels!

The four boxes beside the door held odds and ends that he'd not noticed in the cabinets of the spare bedroom. So there it was, but it wasn't enough. Jessa kept finding something to force Antony into talking with her.

On cue, his phone rang, and he looked down at the screen for a long moment before he answered and put it on speaker. "What?" He asked tiredly as he switched on the new coffee machine.

"Hello to you too, Dade darling. I saw this great play tonight that I thought you'd be great at, and-" Antony cleared his throat and cut her off midsentence. "I don't care. Stop calling me? This is getting ridiculous." He listened to the slow laughter for a moment and frowned down at the floor.

"Oh Dade... not tired of God yet? After three years of life together, I still find it so hard to understand why you'd give it all up. We shared everything... remember?" Just the tone of her voice brought Antony's hackles up, and he picked up his phone angrily. "What's that supposed to mean?" He demanded, and Jessa chuckled again. It was that mirthless little throaty chuckle that he'd liked once but couldn't stand anymore.

"It means I might get on Oprah and tell everybody about the great Dade Holden and his penchant for violence and starvation. I don't think you can afford to just discard me like this." Antony hit the red button and pressed his lips together for a moment as he prayed for the strength to not drive over there and beat her senseless! Funny thing, though, is that she'd probably like it if he did.

Calmer after the fervent prayer, he carried his mug to the lounge and sank down onto the new couch to switch on the television. His mind wouldn't shut up, though, and he found his phone again and called his lawyer. Jessa and her yapping jaws needed to be taken care of legally. It couldn't go on like this. It had to stop. Sea blue found the boxes again, and he frowned at them darkly... it had to stop. Before he could start this new life with Tabatha, he had to close the old one first.

Determined to be done with it, he manhandled all four boxes down to the sidewalk and dumped them into the nearest dumpster with a sigh of relief. That was finally it.

Halfway up the three flights of stairs, his phone rang, and he listened to Dr. Peterson assure him that Tabatha was fine and doing really well. She'd be in acute care for a while yet, but right now she was alive and stable and... safe. She was safe, and in the end, that was all that truly mattered.

Whenever she drifted into wakefulness, Antony would be there beside the bed holding her hand, and at the end of the week, she found herself looking for him without thinking.

"Without the trachea--" She heard the doctor explain and forced her mind to focus and clear the cobwebs away. Enough sleep.

"We're gonna try taking her off the ventilator. Awake are we? Good morning, darling. I'm gonna unplug the ventilator and shut the trachea. If you can breathe on your own, we'll take the whole thing out, and you can start rehab. Are you up for it?" Tabatha's eyes found Antony smiling, and she nodded easily as she lifted her hands to her chest.

Antony moved around the bed to take her trembling hand in his and lifted the slim fingers to his lips for a soft moment. She smiled at him and found the doctor's eyes again. "Here we go." For a moment panic set in as she tried to remember how to breathe normally. The first gulp of air made her eyes water and tear as pain tightened her throat.

"Calm down and try to breathe evenly through your nose. Breathe in... and out. Your throat will spasm a bit, but it'll get easier. See?" She kept her eyes resolutely closed as she fought for each breath, and finally it did get easier as she remembered the simple rhythm of breathing.

"There we go. Good girl. You keep breathing like this through the night, and we'll take the trachea out tomorrow." Forcing her eyes open, she looked up at Antony and noticed the wetness on his cheeks as his lips pressed to her fingers. There was so much emotion in his dark blue gaze. Breathing deeply, she gave him a smile and winked. It was a gesture so familiar that Antony felt his chest hitch, and the strength left his legs.

"One day very soon, sweetheart... we're walking out of here, and I'm taking you to the beach to watch the sand." Tears crested in her eyes, but she kept breathing.

Speech therapy, physical therapy... learning to eat--all made Tabatha feel like a child. She seriously hated the constant attention but could hardly get angry with everyone for prodding, poking, and moving limbs and muscles that offered no resistance at all. Some days the pain was too immense to hide, and she just ended up crying through the whole ordeal. On days like those, she knew why Antony wasn't allowed in to observe her sessions.

The biggest and only fight with the physiotherapist had happened one early morning three days after the operation. They needed to start moving her to minimize the risk of blood clots. She'd been in agony and crying as he manipulated her stiff limbs.

"Are you insane?" He'd shouted at the therapist and shoved him away as he meant to continue. "At least sedate her for this type of thing! Can't you see she's in serious pain?" All she could remember after that was shouting and then Dr. Peterson's voice, and finally she was sedated, and the pain lessened as she slipped into darkness. Antony made sure she got another physiotherapist, and Michael promised him it would never happen again.

A whole month later, she could sit up and eat a variety of soft foods... and she had a voice. The husky note was new and would probably be permanent, but just look on Antony's face when she greeted him when he slipped in was worth all of the hard work it took.

Today she was being released from acute care to a normal recovery ward. Physical therapy would increase to actually getting out of bed and walking. It was a daunting prospect, but she wanted Antony there. If anyone was going to catch her, she wanted it to be him. This was all him. Her being awake and talking and maybe walking was all him. He never gave up on her, and she still wasn't sure exactly why.

"Take a deep breath and let me do the work." Beckett, her physio, instructed gently as he eased an arm behind and around her shoulders to pull her into a sitting position. For a moment she felt that she might swoon as dizziness assailed her, but she focused on Antony's smiling blue eyes and reached for his hands.

"This is getting easier." He intoned, and Tabatha nodded quickly as she tried to stay upright on her own. "Silly to get happy over sitting by myself." She managed huskily, and he leaned forward and took her slim hands. "It was silly to get happy about breathing alone, talking again... eating? None of this is silly, Tabby." Her soft laughter agreed, and she looked over as the lanky therapist moved the blankets and slid her legs very gently to the side to rotate her.

"That really hurts." The pain leapt up her calves, but his hands were already massaging the tremors away. "Pain is good, remember? Means everything's working. Now... the wheelchair? Freedom from the bed, Tabby." He urged, and she nodded before reaching for Antony again. "Can he pick me up, please?" Antony was as stunned as Beckett, but the therapist nodded his ginger head and moved the wheelchair into place.

"You took me out of the dark, Dae..." She lifted her trembling arms, and he reached over easily and lifted her up against his chest first to press his mouth to hers warmly for a long, long moment. "I couldn't leave you there." Her arms moved around his neck, and she hugged as tightly as she could. "Thank you for everything." They were both teary-eyed when he set her down into the wheelchair with the utmost care. "This is just the beginning, sweetheart. You just trust me..."

Antony had explained that nobody knew his real name, so now she referred to him as Dae when anyone else was in the room, but sometimes she still slipped up a tiny bit when they were alone. Telling her why no one knew his real name was a different story altogether, and he hadn't gotten around to telling her about it yet. For now all Tabatha knew was that he preferred Dade, or Dae. It was good enough for now.

Chapter 3

"This place is pretty big." Tabatha breathed as he pushed her wheelchair into the lounge of his loft apartment. "Don't get used to it; we're moving soon. I put it in the market." She tilted her head back to look up at him with a frown, and he shrugged as he knelt by her side and smiled innocently into her questioning eyes.

"You used the we word again." She chided, and his lips parted as he leaned in to pin her with a steady gaze. "That's because we are a we, and since you're still immobile, I'm taking advantage of the fact that you can't run away from me." That got him the giggle he wanted.

"Like I'd run away from you." Broad shoulders shrugged, and she reached for his chin as she leaned in to press her lips to his. "Besides, I'd just let you catch me. Seriously, Antony, though; you're doing an awful lot for me that you don't have to." Antony stood and pushed her further into the loft to show off the bedroom.

"The bed. The bathroom... that now has all the needed amenities for a wheelchair too. The kitchen's pretty big and open. Leah Alvarez from the hospice where you were will be here from six until I get home at night at seven. The movie's in pre-production, so they don't need me that much yet. The physical therapist will work with you here, and... I have a surprise for you." She just chuckled at all his plans and looked around her in awe.

This was like being inside his mind. Movie posters of all the movies he'd done lined the wall in the living space, and the rustic brown suede couches were large and probably very comfortable. The huge 84-inch flat-screen television was impressive, and she just sighed when he pushed her into the perfect reclaimed barn wood kitchen.

Antony pulled out a chair and sat down opposite her with a groan. His own injuries had taken a good six months to heal, but he still had pain now and then. It had taken him a month to find her, another three before she woke up, and two more to get them here today. A long, winding road but worth every second.

"What's my surprise, big boy?" He watched her tug at her demure black t-shirt without realizing she was doing it. "I found your stuff." Her eyes went wide. That had been a big thing for her after waking up. All her books, albums... her life had disappeared after the owner of her apartment building boxed it up.

"All of it?" He nodded quickly, and she sat forward and reached for his hands. "How?" Antony quirked a brow at her. "I'm rich, so I paid a private investigator to find it. Turns out the landlord of the apartment boxed it up, stored it in a container, and forgot about it. She's old... So he followed the paper trail, and we can go get it tomorrow." Tears wet her cheeks as she looked down at his large hands wrapped around hers. "How do I thank you for all this?" Expressive brows drew up as his lips parted in mirth.

"Well, I do need a sex slave." She arched a brow at him. "I sort of miss those hooker heels and crop tops." This time she burst out laughing, and he leaned in to kiss her warmly for a long moment. "I'm being serious, Antony." The deep sigh was heartfelt, and then he stood to fix the tea.

"If not for you, sweetheart, I'd be in hell. I'm pretty damn sure I'd have been dragged there kicking and screaming that first night. You kept me quiet and safe and... I owe you everything. I'd do anything to just have you in my life, and we both know you love me. So what kind of tea would you like?" He opened a cabinet, and she couldn't help her laughter.

Arranged in neat rows were boxes and boxes of any type of tea she could imagine. She did love him, and him being so sure about it didn't even bother her in the least.

"I also stocked this place with any kind of snack you could possibly want. We're taking chef classes twice a week too because we need food that's not disgusting. I know a guy that owns a restaurant two blocks over; he'll do the teaching. In the meantime Leah will fix you whatever your heart desires until... you can manage by yourself. I stocked that fridge with enough hash browns to last you at least a month." This was important to her. She'd been taking care of herself since childhood, and her independence was important.

"Clothes?" She breathed and lifted a hand to tug at her much shorter hair. No glitter... strange how she still looked for glitter. "Except for the stuff we got you in the hospital, you don't have any. So you wanna go shopping?" He waggled his brows, and she nodded as she watched him take down the chamomile he knew she liked and fix them each a mug.

"I can buy my own stuff." She took the mug from him, and he sat down again to pin her with a raised brow. "What with? Your charm? You don't have money, honey, and I do. We've established this fact already." She just huffed at him and rested the mug on the arm of the wheelchair. "When you're ready, you can always get a job and do whatever you want. We've also talked this to death. So drink up and shut up and let me spoil you. I've never had anyone to spend my money on that's as pretty as you." Tabatha blushed at the glint in his eyes and sipped the lovely tea.

"I'm not really. I'm too skinny and pale and wobbly and... weird." Antony drained his mug easily, took hers definitely, and with an ease that made her sigh, lifted her from the chair against his chest and headed for the bedroom.

"What are you doing?" She asked breathlessly as her arms gripped around his neck, and he just grunted at her as he slipped into the bedroom. One entire wall was mirrored, and he set her down on her feet gently and kept his arms around her waist tightly. She wasn't so much standing as dangling against him.

She had to relearn everything from eating to walking. Walking was a problem, but she felt safe held like this and gripped his forearms maybe a bit too tightly. "Show me the wobbly and weird Tabatha." He'd fallen into the habit of calling her Tabby like everyone else did, but she liked that now and then he used her full name like this. In tights, a crop-necked sleeved t-shirt, and sneakers, she looked very different from the girl he'd found in the hospital.

When she didn't answer after a moment, he tightened his arms and rested his chin against the crown of her head. "As soon as you start walking more steadily, you'll regain definition in your legs... you know this. I'll feed you up so you're less skinny; not that it bothers me either way, but you seem to mind. You are beautiful." Tears burned her eyes as he gripped her waist between his large hands and turned her around so he could lift her up against his chest. She clung to him like a limp doll and buried her face in his neck for the immense comfort it gave.

"Thank you..." She murmured, and he shifted so he could lift up her legs as well and smiled into her warm doe eyes. "After shopping, we can get ice cream and take out and watch a movie." Tabatha nodded quickly, and he carried her back to the kitchen to settle her in the wheelchair, and then they were off.

"Hey, Payton." Antony greeted them warmly, and Tabatha's eyes just widened at the perfect blonde doll that met them at the entrance to the boutique. "Hey honey! I'm so glad to see you! I've been waiting to meet you for such a long time, Tabby." She'd been hugging Antony enthusiastically, and it seemed to be Tabatha's turn.

"Payton Peterson, Michael's wife. She needs everything you can sell me, Pay." Payton's big blue eyes went wide, and a smile tilted her perfect Cupid's bow lips. Tabatha smiled brightly and accepted another hug.

"About time you came to see me. Follow me, Dae? Fancyne! Come along; we have work to do!" Antony pushed her into a lounge area set to the side of the dressing rooms and pulled up a chair with a grin.

"Is she a friend of yours other than being my doctor's wife?" She asked softly, and he nodded easily to assuage her curiosity. "We used to model together. I helped her set up this place." Payton returned and drew Tabatha into conversation so professionally she felt her head spin. They talked about clothes, sizes, and tastes, and Antony just watched her with a proud smile.

"I must tell you, sweetie, I'm just miffed that you took Dade off the market for the rest of us queers! Shame on you!" Fancyne gushed with a mock frown, and Tabatha's jaw dropped. "Oh... sorry; not sorry." She chuckled, and Antony reached for her small, shaky hand and grinned, but the smile didn't reach the depths of his dark gaze. Tabatha didn't notice, and he was glad about that.

"Ah, Fancyne... we both know I'm not adventurous enough for you, and you're not my taste." The male's silver bob bobbed as he curtsied and flopped a wrist at him. In too-tight skinny jeans and a wraparound crop top, he was just everything Antony had come to hate about his previous life. He'd moved in those circles for most of his adult life, and it no longer appealed to him.

"Probably true, pretty boy. Do you need some more tea, sweetie?" Tabatha nodded, and Fancyne left with a giggle and wiggle in his skinny step. "Another friend?" Antony shook his head and sighed heavily. "Jessa's friend..." He breathed, and she shrieked softly when the door to the back room swung open suddenly to let in Payton and their purchases. "It's okay; we're almost done." He soothed and sighed slowly. He didn't blame her anxiety a bit.

She was easily overwhelmed, and he tried to keep her as calm as he could. As she recuperated, though, fear lessened, but she still woke up screaming most nights. In the beginning, he'd just slipped into her bed beside her and held her all night as she cried about the pain and the terror.

"Sorry." She mumbled to cover her consternation, and his hand slipped up her neck soothingly. "I'm just... tired." Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to the scar on her temple and stood easily to hand Payton his card.

"The rest of your things will be tailored, and I'll have them delivered in the next two days. You need anything, sweetie, anything at all... you call me? Okay? I'll come help." Tabatha smiled up into the friendly blue eyes and nodded quickly. "Thank you so much, Payton. I so appreciate it."

Antony followed her to the counter, and Tabatha watched him move. He was irritated, and she wondered yet again if his irritation was directed at her. For the life of her, she couldn't fathom why he was doing all this for her. He'd barely left her side since she woke up two months ago now.

"Just don't send Fancyne over with the stuff. I'd rather pick it up. I don't trust him not to get into it with her." Payton nodded and sighed heavily. "You hear from Jessa at all?" Antony nodded and shrugged tiredly. "You knew I would. I can't shake her; she keeps calling and... I didn't know he'd be here today. That aside, she's perfect, right?" Payton nodded quietly and reached for his hand to squeeze the long fingers.

"I wanna help you both. This is a good thing you have here, and don't let anybody tell you different. I'll talk to Jessa and Fancyne." Antony nodded thankfully and turned to smile at Tabatha. "I've never wanted to be alive as much as now, me fellow me lass." Payton smiled prettily and handed the card back. "Well then, me fellow me lad, that sure does make this girl all kinds of special." They hugged, and he fetched Tabatha with a grin so she could be hugged lavishly too.

"We're gonna need to do us a dinner. I'll let you meet the old ball and chain when he's not being all serious and doctor-y and the boys, of course. Promise?" Tabatha promised, and Antony pushed her back to the car. Fancyne followed with the bags, and he took them from him after settling Tabatha into the front seat and helping her buckle in.

"I'll tell Jessa you have a girl now. She's pretty heartbroken at the way you just killed her soul." Antony's eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer to the other man to intimidate him into taking a step back. "Your sister didn't have a soul to begin with, Fancyne." With that, he rounded the car and slipped in behind the wheel.

"You don't like him." Tabatha stated and handed him a bottle of water with a knowing grin. He took the water and unscrewed the cap to take a deep swallow. "He's an idiot." She took a sip of hers and took the bottle from him when he handed it back.

"You have a history with Payton?" Antony chuckled at the bald way she posed the question. "We were both equally malnourished teenagers together who survived on coffee and prayers, working for Calvin Klein, among others. She's been my only real friend for a lot of years... but no, there's no romantic history there. She likes her men husky and bearded. Michael found her before the anorexia killed her." It was so easy to just listen to him talk about his life, Tabatha thought yet again.

"And Jessa's friend?" Tabatha noticed his jaw clench; like before, he closed up like a clam. They'd shared so much, but sometimes he still just didn't want to talk about it. "Is an idiot." That concluded that conversation.

Back at the loft, he set her down on the comfortable couch and handed her the blanket that she arranged across her legs. Grinning, he slipped off her shoes before she tried to reach for them and then chuckled at the look on her face. She pointed a finger at him, and he headed to the kitchen, still laughing.

"Do you want anything specific to eat?" Tabatha pressed her lips together and looked down at the remote on her lap. He'd handed it over, and she scanned the myriad of buttons with a frown. "Anything with potatoes is fine."

Antony looked down at his phone and just frowned with a sigh of contentment. She'd eat potatoes any which way she could get them. "Your wish is my command." He found glasses in the cabinet and a bottle of wine from the wine cooler. Lifting his brows, he wondered what kind of wine she'd like.

"You want some wine?" Tabatha took a deep breath and shook her head. "I'd rather just have some juice if you have it." With that, he found another glass and headed to the fridge instead. Armed with a glass of red for himself and a tall glass of juice for her, he made it to the couch and watched her navigate the television.

Grinning, she took the glass he handed down and watched him lift his feet onto the table. "I feel like Italian... I know a place that makes a carbonara so good you'll cry. Side of wedges?" She nodded and sipped the drink as she concentrated on the television. Long fingers typed in the order, and for a long moment, she just watched him be quiet.

"I... don't drink wine because I don't like the way it makes me feel. I got really drunk on prom night and woke up with Billy Irving trying to take off my dress, and I vomited all over him, and he left me there on the football field... and I called my father. He just looked at me." Antony took her glass when she gestured with it and set it down by his side before slipping an arm around her slim shoulders. "How did he look at you?" The small shrug as she rested her head back across his arm wasn't lost on him.

"You'd think disappointment, right? Not my father... he was smiling because he knew it'd happen, and he'd warned me about Billy. The look said, I told you so, Tabby girl. It's easy to just drink a glass of wine and read a book and forget to have a life, but I don't want to do that anymore. It's stupid..." He drew her into a warm embrace and pressed his lips to her hair.

"It's not stupid at all." Tabatha tilted her head back to look up at him and pressed a kiss to his beautiful mouth. "It's a bit stupid." His slow grin drew her mouth back to his, and she couldn't help but love the lingering taste of the wine on his lips.

"You're a good kisser." She murmured after a moment, and he agreed. "So I've been told. You want another demonstration?" Tabatha shook her head, and he widened his eyes in surprise. "If you have to ask, you're not as good as you think you are." That led to another kiss.

"You weren't kidding about all this." Tabatha breathed when he pushed her chair into the bathroom. "You need me to help you... on?" That got him a giggle, and she pointed to the door. "No. This part I can do myself, thank you." Antony's deep laughter as he closed the door made her smile at the way he always caught her off guard with suggestions like that.

Everything was motorized and easy to use. He'd put a lot of money into this place, and it was while she was sitting there looking down at the soft blue of the tiles that she noticed the small things that made this place all his. There weren't many of them, but they were all carefully placed and precise.

A red towel draped across the door of the large shower drew her eyes first; a toothbrush in a glass... a shaving kit neatly arranged on top of a wooden shelf. It was sparse and masculine and completely him. It was also devoid of any influence other than him, which meant he'd gone through a lot of trouble to rid this place of Jessa. That needed thinking about, but she decided to cross that bridge when she got to it.

Done, she lifted herself back into the wheelchair and smiled at the strength that returned to her limbs. Pretty soon she'd be walking again.

With a grunt, she managed to get the door open and looked over at the shower longingly. Hot water would draw the ache from her sore muscles, but she wouldn't be able to manage that just yet. Not by herself anyway.

"You wanna take a shower?" He'd read her mind, she thought numbly, and tugged a hand through her hair. He was sitting on the side of the large bed watching her. "There's a lift chair in there and lots of stuff that Payton thought you might like. She helped me get most of this done. I can help you in and out easily." Moving to her side, he dropped to his hunches and touched a palm to her knee. "I'd be naked--" She couldn't help the words from slipping past her lips, and he leaned in with a smile that turned her insides liquid.

"I won't blush if you won't." Tabatha swallowed hard at the pure, primal lust that tinged his eyes and bit down on her lower lip. Then the emotion was gone, and she wondered how he could hide it so easily.

"There doesn't need to be sex yet, Tabby. I'll be really professional about it." This time she licked her lips and then nodded. "Well... okay. Here I have the great Dade Holden and his perfect body at my disposal, and I can't do anything I want to do with you... yet." She murmured and sighed when his lips parted. "Fuck Tabatha... I'm gonna have to go running now."

They shared a chuckle, and she watched as he opened the door to the shower and turned the water on. "So you get naked, and I'll fetch you some towels, and I'll, you know, shuffle your naked ass in there. I keep saying naked." With that shy little admission, he left, and she shimmied from her clothes quickly. This was going to be awkward, but she really wanted that shower.

Steam filled the bathroom, and a moment later he opened the door and really tried not to look. Hunching by her knees again, he reached for her hands, and she pulled herself forward so he could get a grip beneath her arms and lift her from the chair.

"You're naked..." He murmured, and she lifted a brow at him. "We discussed this part. My eyes are up here, big boy." The sincere chuckle made her smile as he set her down inside the shower on the motorized bench carefully before he turned and closed the door definitely.

It took a few deep breaths before he felt ready to move, and he headed for the front door when the bell chimed. Probably the takeout, and right now he needed the diversion.

Well scrubbed and dry, she opened the stall door and called out for Antony. When he didn't appear for a moment, she called again and could hear the front door slam before heavy footfalls echoed in the sudden silence.

"What's wrong?" She questioned when he appeared a second later and reached for her. Something was very wrong; it wasn't hard to tell, not when she knew him so well by now. Anger seethed just above his skin, and he was biting his lip to keep from speaking. "Wait? What happened?" She pushed at his hands, and he took a step back and ran both hands through his dark hair.

"Was there someone here?" Antony nodded and took a deep, steady breath. "I don't know how to extricate myself from that life. I withdrew from everything that even remotely had anything to do with the madness of that part of the industry... but they keep hounding me, and--" The distaste for the word they was evident, and Tabatha felt her mouth go dry.

"And what?" His expressive brows drew together, and he reached for her again and carried her into the bedroom to set her down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. "I cultivated a perfect media silence around you and me, but I knew they'd pick up on it eventually. I had to shut up Jessa with a restraining order because she was offered a guest spot on Oprah to talk about... me. Pretty soon they're gonna find out about you, Tabatha, and I don't want to share you with the world until you're ready for it." Tired, he sat down beside her and closed his eyes against the strain of life.

"This is hard on you." True, he thought, this was very hard on him, but he grinned when she tugged at the towel around her breasts. Small gestures like that made him remember just why he was putting up with the hard part at all.

"I will be the perfect girlfriend when you decide that's what you want them to know, but they better not mess with you, or I'll go all librarian on their ass." That got her a kiss, and she grinned against his lips as laughter reverberated through his chest.

"Go take a hot shower, and we can have dinner." With his lips pressed together, he tugged at her towel and winked. "Can I hold a boob when we go to bed?" It was such an absurd request that she just giggled happily and shoved at his shoulder. "That's going to depend on how good dinner is." She watched him stand and slip off his shirt before he disappeared into the bathroom.

Shit, she thought uneasily; his life was very complicated, and her being in it only complicated it more. Reaching around, she managed to shuffle herself into pajama pants and a tank top without too much trouble. Both hands ran through her hair, and fingertips traced the scar at her temple again... then slipped across the slightly more raised scar that ran around her right ear where the tumor had been removed. She'd be forever amazed that both scars gave her Antony.

Still deep in thought, she traced the expensive white sheets beneath her fingers. Everything in this place was brand new; there was no trace at all of anyone else having ever lived here. Fatigue pulled at her limbs, and she rested back against the firm mattress and closed her eyes lazily. It would be so easy to just fall asleep...

Warmth filled her when she felt him move across her gently, long arms drawing her close to his chest so he could cradle her to him like a prized possession. Slim hands slipped up his chest as her head tipped back with a moan. Then he was kissing her, and the languid fire that filled her body drew a startled gasp from her chest. Firm lips captured that small sound as he drew her into him deeply.

Every inch of his tall copper body was naked beneath her hands, and she tugged at his hair weakly so he'd open his eyes and gaze into hers intently. "Let me make love to you. I need to feel you go soft around me so I'll stay sane." The tortured edge to his words made her heart hitch and skip a beat. "How do I deny you anything...?" The murmur fell against his lips, and his gasp fluttered in her belly.

In a few easy movements, she was naked against his tall body, and his hands traced wildfire across her too sensitive skin. A deep, audible groan tore from her throat when his hand slipped between her legs and dipped into her wetness. His hot mouth found hers again, and he drew back only a little when he tasted tears; his fingers, though, kept up their gentle ministrations, and he could feel her try and move against his hand more deeply, but of course her legs wouldn't let her.

"Shhh, Tabby... and just lie back?" He lifted himself away and tugged her higher so he could close his mouth around her breast. Small hands tightened into his hair as she arched beneath him, and he spent some time adoring the breasts he'd yearned to touch so many nights.

By the time his tongue dipped into her navel, Tabatha was in a frenzy as a maelstrom of complete sensory chaos threatened to draw her into the vortex! She hadn't expected him to part her thighs and tug one knee across his shoulder before his tongue just licked up between her folds lazily. She felt like screaming and dug her fingers into the sheet beneath her.

A warm, wet suckle drew another earnest cry from her chest, and she so wanted to just grind herself into his mouth, but she couldn't make her hips move the way she wanted them to. He understood what she needed, though, and tugged a hand beneath her pelvis to tip her up and thrust his tongue into her deeply before suckling her again. It didn't take her long to splinter into an orgasm, and he let his tongue glide across her lazily until he felt her relax. With one last flick of the tongue, he reached up and settled himself between her parted thighs to bury himself to the hilt in her warmth.

She closed around him tightly, and he tilted her pelvis up again and took what he needed from her yielding body. He felt her clench around him sharply and drove deeper to push himself over with a guttural groan that left him feeling bereft of breath.

It was a deep, satisfying climax that shivered and shook across his large body for several seconds. Slim arms settled above her head as emotion brought a wealth of tears to her eyes. Drawing his arms around her neck again, he slipped his tongue between her trembling lips and moved against her lazily, sensually, until she completely lost herself in him.

His searching mouth returned to her breast with a gratified growl, and she wrapped her arms around him as he nuzzled in between her breasts and lapped at the undersides of the full orbs before he fell asleep.

Waking up was slow going for Tabatha as she turned on her side laboriously and looked around the bright room with large eyes. She was still naked; she found and pulled the sheet up around her as she struggled into a sitting position to call out to Antony. He appeared a moment or so later from the kitchen in boxers carrying a mug.

"I was just coming to wake you up. Leah should be here any time now." Shaky hands tugged through her tousled hair, and she grinned when he joined her on the bed and pulled her back against his chest as his long legs slipped around her so he could cradle her comfortably. "This is a fun way to wake up." She murmured and turned a bit so she could rest her cheek on his shoulder.

"Hey... you remember what I said about sex over... there?" Tabatha nodded and sighed when his long arms looped around her easily. "This isn't that, Tabby. Last night was... more genuine than anything I'd ever had with anyone. It was the first time I didn't go to sleep disgusted." Slim shoulders shrugged as she contemplated that loaded sentence. "There's so much that I don't know about you yet, but I know last night was something real for you... for both of us." His mouth dropped to hers warmly, and she lost herself in the wealth of the moment.

"I love the taste of you. I missed breasts... there's just something so comforting about breasts." That got him a slow chuckle, and she kissed him before snuggling to his chest. "I could tell." Long fingers moved to cup a lush breast, and she sighed slowly.

"However much I'd like to just stay in bed all day and adore this beautiful body, I need to get to the studio and pay the rent. So I'm gonna cart you over to the bathroom so you can do your thing." Tabatha tilted her head back across his arm, and his eyes went luminous before he sat back and tugged his hands beneath her shoulders so he could lift her up and close a hot mouth around her nipple. Tabatha let out a startled yelp and slipped trembling fingers into his soft, dark hair.

His mouth surfaced to capture hers again, and he stood with such ease, cradling her like a child, that she lost her breath. "I'm gonna be back at seven to finish this." Not sure how to react to that, she opted for a smile and pressed her mouth to his. "I'll be right here, baby."

Leah Alvarez was an older woman with graying dark hair and smiling brown eyes. She found Tabatha in the kitchen sipping tea while Antony got his script and papers together. Today was the first big production meeting, and he needed to bring his best game.

"Beckett will be here at ten for the physiotherapy. I gave him a code so he can buzz himself in. You do not let anyone else in, please. My friend Payton might show up, but she's by way of the only other person allowed in here." He hunched by Tabatha's knee, and she smiled into his dark blue eyes.

"Yes, master." The nod she gave him drew up an arched brow, and she just chuckled as he reached up for a kiss. "You know the risks, Tabby. We talked about this?"

The nod was curt as her fingers traced around his jaw. "I know. I was just being silly. You go do your thing, and we'll do our thing, and... I'll fix dinner. Remember to remember that you are the best actor in the world. I want to hear all about it tonight." He kissed her again and took a deep breath. "This movie could end up being life-changing, so I'm going in with guns blazing."

In jeans, a button-down in blue, and boots, he looked every bit the rich actor. His hair was longer than it had been in the Between, and he was somehow leaner... less bulky. "Go be perfect, Dae." With a last grin at her, he headed for the door with his satchel across his shoulder, and she met Leah's warm, smiling eyes.

"Breakfast?" Tabatha nodded, and thus the day began...

"These are nice things." Leah smiled as she helped Tabatha put away the things Antony had bought her the day before. "I don't even know when I'm gonna wear all of it..." She sighed slowly and lifted a soft butter-yellow sweater from the heap she was folding. "I'm thinking as soon as you can, he's gonna be taking you everywhere." Tabatha's doe brown eyes widened as she looked down at her knees and tried to imagine herself in his world.

"That's the plan." No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get excited about the plan, and the reason was pretty simple. She just wasn't sure he loved her... not real love. He was holding onto their time spent in the Between because he felt she saved him in there, but out here it was a whole different ballpark.

There were no demons prowling the night; no fuckening with the mind. This was real life, and it wouldn't take him long to realize she was nothing special at all. Eventually he'd realize she was a handicap in his life... and move on from her. Everything he was doing for her now was an obligation that he felt he needed to fulfill. She couldn't just love him to the brink of obsession like he needed to be loved and not receive that in return.

The doorbell chimed, and Leah looked down at her watch before heading to the front. Beckett had come and gone, and there shouldn't be someone else coming over at all. Tabatha maneuvered the wheelchair into the lounge area and watched as Leah activated the Ring feed to see who was downstairs.

"You know him, mija?" She asked, and Tabatha nodded. "He works with Payton at the boutique." Leah lifted a brow at her. "Looks like he has some packages. You wanna let him in?" Tabatha shrugged slowly and then nodded. What could the harm in it be? It was Jessa's friend, but she was sure he was harmless. Besides, they had a pretty good security team, and all it took was the press of a button to activate the alarm and have them swarm this place.

"Sure... I'm sure it's fine. Let him in." Leah nodded and opened the door after a moment to let in the skinny Fancyne.

"Hi there, sweetie. I picked up the stuff from the tailors and thought I'd just bring it over right away. Am I interrupting anything?" Tabatha smiled, and Leah headed to the kitchen to start some coffee.

"That's so nice of you. Thank you. Have a seat?" Tabatha wheeled herself closer to the chair he decided on and watched as he set down the packages with an exaggerated flourish.

"Lots of good stuff in there. Wow... Dade sure changed up this place. There used to be so many nice things in here. Jessa probably took it, though... She was the one with the flair, sadly." He touched his platinum bob and sniffed as he sat down and folded his legs primly.

"I have no idea. All I know is that we're moving pretty soon. You know Jessa well?" It seemed like something to ask, and truth be told, she had no idea what to say to this effeminate male. What did she even talk about?

"I should. She's my sister! Did Dade not tell you that?" Tabatha shook her head and took a slight breath before looking to see what Leah was doing. "No. We haven't really talked about all that stuff... it's not really relevant." Fancyne tugged at his glittery blouse and smiled happily; it was the smile of a shark, though.

"Obviously. Shit... this place is very much Dade now. Jessa made it all so nice and homey. But Dade is a transient, so all this fits his personality. He's not gonna be here long." She nodded at that and wondered if she needed to say they were moving again. This was leading up to something, and she wanted to see where he'd take it. Morbid curiosity got the better of her, and she smiled.

"That's true. I love that about him, though. Life sure isn't boring with him in it; he keeps me jumping... so to speak. Is your sister doing alright with all this? They had a pretty turbulent relationship if the tabloids are to be believed." Fancyne sat forward at this and smiled when Leah set the coffee things down and widened her eyes a bit at Tabatha.

"I'm gonna go finish up in there, mija. Call me if you need anything." She handed her the remote with her thumb on the emergency button, and Tabatha smiled up at her lovingly. "Thanks, Leah. This looks lovely." The older woman patted her shoulder and headed back into the bedroom with the packages under one arm.

"Jessa is a mess. The way Dade just broke it off with her was monstrous. Woke up in the hospital and said I found God and you're out. Turbulent is a good word... in and out of the bedroom. Dade is a bit of a freak..." He whispered exaggeratedly, and she just lifted a brow at him. The petty, snide note in the cadence of his silly girl voice left her feeling cold.

"I doubt that's true." She managed, though, and leaned over for her mug. Fancyne moved too and ended up handing hers over with a narrow-eyed grin. "Oh, it's true. I have to warn you though... it's my moral duty after all; he gets pretty violent sometimes. Jessa forever had all kinds of bruising, and you're such a little thing. He could hurt you." Tabatha bit down on her lower lip in indecision and set the mug down decisively after a moment of contemplation.

"So you view it as your moral duty to inform me of all this unwanted information without knowing anything about me at all?" She leaned back in the wheelchair and smiled slowly. "There's a word for creatures like you where I come from. Condemned. Did you know there's a space in hell especially for you? I've seen it... a long, dark stretch of road that circles in on itself. If you stay on the road and keep walking, they leave you alone, but sooner or later you stop from pure exhaustion, and that's when they come for you." Tabatha leaned in, widening her eyes, and reached for the floppy wrist.

"Who?" He was fascinated; she noticed with a small smile and blinked lazily. She was a pretty good storyteller. "The worms. Big, fat, bulbous maggots the size of a small dog. They flop and slither from the field of fire beside the road and grab an ankle or leg or thigh. With small, petty little creatures like you, it'll start with your legs. So you can't run." Fancyne nodded, captivated by Tabatha's voice, and his mouth dropped open. Tabatha was exerting just a bit of pressure on his wrist as she drew him in closer. She dropped the cadence of her voice an octave.

"Finally they start gnawing so they can get inside your bowels. Then they feast, and it's never only one worm. They're pack hunters, and there's nothing they like more than the taste of your living, writhing flesh. They'll keep you alive for days... feasting. It's different for all sinners; with a liar, they start with the tongue, for instance. You don't want them going down your throat, do you?" She nodded slowly to drive the point across and took a small breath.

"The screaming dies away gradually as they eat you whole. Then... blink, and you're back at the beginning of the loop, walking and screaming because you know what's waiting if you stop. Infinity... an infinity of walking and dying. Do you see that door?"

The question so took him by surprise that he turned in fright and nodded. "I suggest you use it. I also suggest that you and Jessa leave Dade the fuck alone, or one night pretty soon I'm going to tell the demons who you are... and plop and squish, and the gnawing in your mind will drive you mad as the worms come for you." Her fingers dug into his wrist cruelly just before he leapt to his feet and headed for the door.

"Witch!" He tossed at her viciously, and she nodded. "I'm so much more than a witch. Now get out." She watched him slam the door behind him and leaned back in her chair with a sigh. "Bullshit." She whispered and finished her coffee before joining Leah in the other room.

Everything she'd told him was bullshit, but that hadn't mattered. The only thing that mattered was that he believed her, and by the look on his face, he was going to start dreaming about worms soon enough. She couldn't help her chuckle. She and Antony sure had a lot to talk about tonight...

"Worms?" Antony asked as he took up a chair on the other side of the kitchen table. Tabatha was peeling potatoes and nodded over at him with a grin. "Maggots the size of small dogs." His tall frame leaned back into the chair, and he couldn't help but just watch the small smirk lift her lips. This was the girl who'd survived the Between for more than a year and came out moderately sane.

"That's... pretty horrifying." Tabatha agreed with a shrug and added the peeled potatoes to a bowl with a flourish. "It was supposed to be horrifying, honey; I wanted to get rid of him for good. He's not going to come around here to cause trouble again. I'm pretty proud of myself." So was he, Antony thought as he leaned forward onto his elbows to meet her soft gaze. "So am I. He really said I was violent?"

There it was, she thought with a sigh and nodded. He was going to get to that sooner or later. Better tackle it head-on. That seemed to work best when dealing with him.

"Were you?" Doe eyes lifted to his again, and he nodded sincerely. "You know some of the worst things about me, Tabby. I never intentionally hurt her. Fancy probably didn't mention this, but Jessa gets off on pain. I didn't... like it so--" He stopped abruptly and ran a hand over his mouth.

"So?" The small question made him sigh in resignation. "So I didn't have sex with her very many times. Jessa was a glorified personal assistant and not much more. I needed her to get things done, and the contacts she has and the circles she moves in kept me relevant for a while. So I went with it... but I couldn't keep it up. I was angry at everything, and I took it out on her sexually when she forced and guilt-tripped me into it."

Tabatha's hands stilled as her lips slipped apart in sorrow. "Did you believe Fancyne?" Her dark head shook and then nodded quickly. "I believed that he believed whatever he was saying was completely true. After last night, Antony... I am very certain that you are not a violent lover. I understand the anger towards them and that it probably spilled over into resentment and violence, which is normal. Especially so for someone who'd been abused like you have."

Antony bit down on his lower lip and took the bowl to add the potatoes to the boiling water he'd set on earlier. She'd started on the salad when he turned, and for a moment he just watched her as she diced. Her hands were shaky, but that was neurological.

"Where do you see us in five years?" The question was sudden and took her completely off guard. Clearing her throat, she set the knife down and leaned back to meet his dark blue gaze. "Is there going to be an us in five years?" Nodding, he sat down and reached for the knife to finish dicing the cucumber. "Why do you think there might not be? Don't you wanna be with me?" Her chuckle made him grin despite his inner turmoil.

"If you want to be with me for the right reasons, I can see us growing old and senile together. Antony?" He avoided her gaze and set the knife down. "You don't have any obligation towards me. I don't want you to feel that you have to take care of me now. I love the fuck out of you, but if you don't love me like that, then there really can't be a future, right? I just want you to be happy." Turbulent blue lifted to find hers, and he leaned in slowly as his lips parted.

"You don't think I'm happy?" Slim shoulders shrugged as she tried to keep her hands still. Suddenly she was shaking like a madwoman!

"I think you tell yourself you're happy because you desperately want to be." Leaning in a bit more, he pinned her with an earnest gaze. "What are you saying?" He reached for one shaky hand and threaded his fingers through hers to anchor her gaze to his. "I'm... saying that I'm afraid that you might end up resenting me because you feel obliged to take care of me. I'm going to end up being a burden... and then I might as well die right now. That's reality, Antony." Expressive brows lifted, and he leaned back with a chuckle.

"Reality is subjective to the circumstances it finds itself in. Right now, sweetheart, reality is this here with you. It makes me happy to see you smile, to hear your voice... to kiss your lips. You make me happy by just being here in my home with me, and I haven't enjoyed sex that much in a very, very long time. If that's what love is, then that's what I feel, but should you feel obligated to love me in return... then I suppose this will end when it ends. Is that what you wanna hear?" Tears burned her cheeks, and she let go of his hand to wipe them away.

"I don't feel obligated to love you at all... not at all, Antony." That declaration got her a kiss, and he went back to dicing the cucumber with a contented smile. "Good... because neither do I. I woke up with the absolute conviction that I needed to find you because I couldn't leave you in the dark. So that's... what I did. This is the realest emotion I've felt in years, and if you believe nothing else about me at least remember that."

Tabatha blinked at her tears and watched him tap the knife idly against the wooden board. "I don't know that I deserve any of this. You are a very complex individual, Mr. Antony Greatfield, but thank you for being honest with me. It means the world to me." She got that small, shy half-smile and winked at him. "You mean the world to me..."

They settled into their routine with a simple easiness that sometimes surprised Tabatha. Antony was adaptable to almost any situation, and she found herself wondering more than once if this chameleon suit he wore so well was the real him or the real him he wanted to be right now. She'd probably never figure that out, but she did try and scratch the surface a few times to see how deep she could get.

On nights like those, he held onto her that much tighter. They hadn't had sex again since that first time, and she knew it was because of how he felt about sex in general. It didn't bother her that much because she was hardly the most sexual of creatures. She half preferred that he didn't pretend to be a sex-crazed maniac.

What she did find sincere, though, was the way he held onto her. Antony just really loved breasts, and she'd find him just snuggling to hers all through the night. He'd wrap his tall, perfect body around hers and just press his nose in between the valley of her breasts and sleep. Holding him that close also drove her nightmares away... most nights. She still woke up screaming sometimes, and the fear threatened to consume her like the fires in hell.

On nights like those, she prayed fervently and just held onto Antony. God had given him to her and her to him... it couldn't be otherwise. It simply couldn't.

Beckett had her standing at the frame about two weeks after Fancyne's visit when Antony slipped in, and his smile at seeing her standing was almost all she needed for all the pain and hard work this was turning out to be.

"You're early?" She gasped, and he reached over to press a kiss to her lips. "We start filming in a week, and I learn lines better on my own. This looks good?" He phrased it as a question, and Tabatha just shook her head.

"Standing is easy. Taking steps is hard." Beckett explained as he tried to coax her forward. "It hurts." She murmured and adjusted her hands to the bar. Antony had made sure Beckett had everything he needed at hand to help her with the physical therapy. One corner of the loft was turned into a pretty good gym area that he used himself on occasion.

"Should it still hurt?" Antony asked as he hunched and reached out to slip a hand around her calf. "The tendons are still lax because she won't work them like they should be worked. Walking more will lessen the pain." Tabatha adjusted her hands again while shaking her head. "I don't get how that works." Beckett pressed his lips together and dug one hand into his back pocket for a moment.

"Have you ever danced on your daddy's toes?" Tabatha's eyes narrowed as they met his, and she nodded quickly and then listened as Beckett explained. Antony stood with a grin to move around her quietly. With her back to his, he slipped both large hands around her upper arms and waited for Beckett to position her feet on top of his. She wasn't wearing shoes and couldn't help the shiver as his hands drifted down and around her waist to hold her close.

"This gets your hips moving, the knees bending, and... it's fun." She chuckled at the look on the younger man's face and tilted her head back to meet Antony's smiling gaze. "I feel like a kangaroo. Are you ready?" She took a deep breath but couldn't quite hide her groan as he started walking.

"Please stop!" She cried out after a dozen steps, and Antony stopped; his dark eyes lifted to Beckett's, who nodded quickly. "Twenty more... and you can have ice cream?" Tabatha burst out laughing at that, and Antony just chuckled with her. "You need to exaggerate the movements a bit more so her knees bend more naturally?" Antony nodded quickly and pressed a kiss to her hair before he started walking again.

"This is something you can do whenever you feel like it too. The more you move with her, the more her body will relearn the movements." By the end of the twenty steps, though, she was crying and flushed, and Antony just lifted her up against his chest to carry her back to the yoga mat for the stretching exercises she still needed to do.

Beckett set to work, and Antony dropped to the floor, folded his legs, and watched. Leah came and went with instructions about lunch, and again he couldn't help but just love being here with her in this space of his life. How else did he explain this to himself... or her?

He knew she wondered about him being legit and genuine in his regard for her. How to convince her, though, was a different story... because he understood her reasoning. Was this just another role he played well, or was this who he really was? Did he even know who he really was? That was usually the question that gave him a headache trying to figure it out, so he didn't. Instead he focused on Tabatha and helped her into the shower after Beckett had left. Leah helped her finish, and dressed, she met him in the kitchen again.

"Payton roped us into lunch tomorrow. It's Saturday, so she knows I won't be working, and she's been after me all week." Tabatha lifted the tea to her lips and watched as he munched on the salad Leah had made before she'd left for the day. Crispy fried chicken, salad, and potato wedges... heaven.

"That sounds nice." The way she said it, though, drew his brows together. She didn't look exactly pleased with it. "You'll like Payton, and Michael's a different character when he's not being a surgeon. Would you rather not go? It's not set in stone." She looked up into his sea-blue eyes and shook her head.

"No. I'd like to get out of this place for a bit. I was just thinking about the walking... and the other night. How do you feel about that? We didn't really talk about it at all." Antony sat back from his plate and took a sip of his wine instead.

"You mean the sex?" She nodded and looked down at her plate, blushing. "Yes, I mean the sex. I know you're not comfortable with sex... But we need to talk about that. It's a big part of any relationship: are we in a relationship? A real one?" Antony nodded definitely and felt the hunger drain from his belly. He couldn't bring himself to eat, and that was never a good thing.

"You mean because the Bible is so strict about it?" Tabatha nodded and noticed that he hadn't finished much of his food at all. She was gonna have to find a way to make him eat because he'd lost weight. On his tall body, it was easy to notice when he lost a few pounds.

"Yes, and yes, and yes." He answered when she didn't speak again and leaned his elbows onto the table to meet her dark eyes. "I... want to be with you like that every night, Tabby, but we both know that we need to walk a narrow path, right? So I just hold you real tight and wait for you to be okay with it. Besides, if I asked you to marry me right now, you'd probably tell me I was insane." That was true. She'd probably think he was batshit crazy for even thinking it.

"You'd marry me?" She asked in a small, shy voice, and he nodded seriously. "In a heartbeat." Tabatha leaned forward as well and pushed his plate closer. "Finish your plate, and we'll talk again. You're not eating, and that's an indicator that something's wrong." Antony blinked lazily and looked down at the plate. "I'm not hungry." He sighed, and she tilted her head at him. "Why? You were hungry a moment ago."

Angrily he leaned back from the table and folded his long arms across his chest defensively. "If I eat, I'm just gonna vomit. I'm starting training for the role next week, and I'll be eating plenty then. It's fine, Tabby." He managed, and she tapped the table by her plate.

"I just knew you were overwhelmed with all this. You'd never admit to it, but all this is very sudden and-- " He lifted his hand at her and shook his head. "This always happens when I'm getting ready for a new project. This has nothing to do with you, or us... or even the Between. I just can't eat... because everything tastes like eggs." Tears burned her eyes, and she bit down on her lower lip in indecision.

"You keep pushing the idea that I'm just doing this to assuage some sort of obligation I feel towards you. Do you want out of this relationship?" That hit her pretty hard, and she slammed her hands together and closed her eyes against the sudden panic that erupted in her chest.

"No... I see you struggling with all of it, and I know it cannot be easy to just step out of your entire life and give up everyone that once meant something to you." She stopped, and he leaned in a bit more.

"Give up, Jessa? Really? That's what you're going with?" Tabatha shook her head and cleared her throat. "I know you well enough to understand why you were even in that relationship. What I'm talking about is that you have to turn down roles and events because you're suddenly straight. The world was pretty fixated on you being gay. How are you dealing with that? Are you even dealing with that?" Good point, Antony thought, and he emptied his glass in one long gulp.

"I'm not dealing with it. My publicist has been on my ass to get a statement out there, but I don't feel that I need to share any of this with anyone. What does my sexuality have to do with anyone? Like I told you when we met, I was never gay. I never even--" He stopped himself and looked down at his shaky hands.

"Jessa put the rumor out there that I might be gay or bisexual, because suddenly it's very vogue to be either. It's like I told you, in the Between, sex has always been a means to an end. I worked as a... prostitute for a time when I modeled. It put food on the table that Payton and I both needed, and I couldn't let her do it. So... man, or woman... or mouth. Sex is the means to an end. Jessa understood that and used it to put me on the right lists. I got the roles because I could play both. It doesn't mean that's who I am. It's an act." Tabatha sat forward again and pinned him with her dark doe eyes. Giving up that life was laughably easy for him.

"Antony--" She gasped, and he held up a hand to stop her. "I've done a lot of things I need forgiveness for, but I did them to survive. I'm a gifted actor; you've said so yourself. All that isn't even the worst of it. I've been on my own since I turned fourteen. I don't want to put you, us, out there yet." Leaning back in the chair, she avoided his gaze and then looked up worriedly.

"I'm a shaky mess in a wheelchair, and... I don't even know how I'll manage any of that. You are not the sum of the atrocities that were done to you, Antony. You did everything you could to succeed in this world, and most of that is commendable, but how am I going to fit into any of it? How--" She didn't finish and leaned back into the chair to close her eyes to the way that sounded.

"I'm just a librarian who never went anywhere or did anything. And you have this life, and you've carried all these burdens and pain and fear for all these years. I don't know how to help you. I want to help you..." Tears spilled onto her cheeks, and she reached up to wipe at them.

Antony moved around the table and hunched by her side to turn the wheelchair so he could rest his hands on her thighs.

"I love you, Tabatha. This is a first for me, and I want to spend every last moment of this life with you. I want to marry you... have kids if that's possible, and I want to take you to see the world you've only read about. I want to go to bed at night and love you so hard you'll never doubt that you're special. You've been as emotionally neglected as I have all your life, and... I'm allowed to love you. Just let me?" Teary eyes lifted to his, and she reached for his cheeks with her trembling hands.

"Antony... When I look at you, all I can think is that God really did do this, because how else could it happen? I'm sorry I'm always pushing... please just hold me. I want to do all the things with you that you want to do with me." Steady hands reached for her, and he pulled her up against his chest as he stood and tightened his arms around her warmly. "God is good all the time." He whispered, and she tightened her arms around his neck. Loving him was daunting.

Payton met them in the driveway of her lovely suburban home in Jericho, and Antony slipped out first to give her a long, warm hug. "Dae! You made it!" Antony nodded, still grinning, and moved around the expensive SUV to unload the wheelchair. "Not my fault you live such a long-ass way from anywhere, Pay." He teased, and she just giggled at him and moved around the car to open Tabatha's door with a broad smile.

"He's just jealous because this place is so much nicer than his. Hey honey. How are you?" She leaned in for a hug, and Tabatha hugged back politely. Payton was a hugger; that was for sure. "Doing fine, thanks. This is a beautiful neighborhood." Antony arrived with her chair and lifted her out with a grunt. "Why the grunt? She weighs nothing." Payton scolded, and he just smiled over at her.

"It's nothing." Tabatha widened her eyes up at him, and he just shook his head. "Where's Michael?" He asked to railroad Payton's next question, and she pointed to the house. "In the pool with the boys. He likes to spend as much time with them as he can when he's home. They're keeping him very busy at the hospital." She chatted all the way into the house, and it was clear they'd moved some furniture around to make space for her wheelchair.

In her denim skirt and blouse, with her feet bare and her blonde hair up in a bun, she looked so perfectly ordinary. It was endearing to think that even supermodels looked normal at home. Her big blue eyes lit up when Michael met them halfway into the kitchen, and Tabatha's smile broadened.

Michael's deep green eyes were smiling, and he pulled his wife to his side before reaching over for Antony's hand in greeting. He was nowhere near as tall as Antony, or as well made, but it was clear to see he spent a lot of time at the gym, and his too-long dark hair and beard rounded off the look well. Affluent doctor, the look said, possibly also a bit of a hipster... but married to a supermodel.

"Hello there, darling. We have an appointment next week, but I can already see you're doing very well. Payton probably hugged you enough for both of us, so I'm gonna abstain since I'm wet." Tabatha chuckled with Antony. "Not walking yet, but other than that I'm doing pretty well. Antony takes good care of me." Michael found a vest on the chair by the counter of the large cherry wood kitchen, and she caught the way Payton watched him slip into it. Now that was a woman in lust with her husband.

Two boys chose that moment to tear into the kitchen, and Payton turned to catch Pace before he slipped on the slightly less than dry floor. "This is Pace... My eight-year-old, and Leif is ten. Garret is six months old and asleep... for the first time this week it feels like." Michael grinned at the way Tabatha watched Payton.

"Did you use a surrogate? How do you have three children and still look like a model?" The blonde just chuckled at that and ran a languid hand through Pace's dark hair. Both boys were dark like their father with his moss green eyes.

"This is Tabby. What do we say?" Michael prodded, and Leif stepped forward first to hold out his hand to first Antony and then Tabatha. "Hey Uncle Dae, and pleased to meet you, Tabby." Pace did the same after a moment but went in for a hug. "Oh! Another hugger." She accepted the hug and laughed when Antony manhandled him across his shoulder before dangling him from one foot. Leif tackled from the other side to get in on the action, and Michael simply reached for Tabatha's chair and pushed her onto the deck by the pool.

"They just love him... and so does Payton." He hunched, and she could see he had something on his mind. "How is he doing? Really? Looks like he lost weight... and I know how that sounds, but with these two people--" He stopped, and she held out a hand for him. Still shaky, he noticed and took her hand in his.

"He's not eating because everything tastes like eggs, but he's starting training for the movie next week, and he's going to have to eat then. I... we talked it to death." Michael was still holding her hand, and she could see he was clearly worried. "You're still shaky? You shouldn't be shaky anymore. I'm gonna have to do an MRI. Sorry... went all doctor on you, but hey, you're my miracle patient." Tabatha smiled slowly and touched a hand to her brow.

"I'm... thank you for being his friend. I'm thinking he doesn't have very many of those." Michael just grinned and looked up when Antony finally joined them. "Payton made virgin mojitos?" The doctor smiled as he got to his feet and smiled over at his friend. "I'll just have a beer." Antony smiled and grinned when the boys barreled into the water again.

Michael left for their drinks, and Antony sat down on the lounger by her side. "What did he say?" His voice was a deep timbre by her shoulder, and she turned a bit to meet his sea blue gaze. "That I shouldn't still be shaking, so he's going to do an MRI. Those boys are beautiful." She grinned, and he looked around the pool area and garden for a long moment.

"They saved her. She had to eat to keep them alive..." Payton arrived holding a glass for her, and she handed it down with a grin before plopping down on Antony's knee like she belonged there. "So big and tall here tells me you're moving soon. I want to recommend this area, please. I'd so love to have you closer." Tabatha grinned into the large azure eyes and nodded.

"Since I'm sort of gonna leave that up to her anyway, I'm sure we'd appreciate the help." Payton watched her sip the drink and bit down on her full lower lip. "I'm very helpful. Ask anybody. How's the prep for the movie going? I can see you're not eating." Antony swallowed and took a deep breath before he took her small hand in his and kissed the palm.

"My greatest advocate in the fight against starvation. It's eggs... but it's just the getting ready. I'm gonna start training soon, so it's rice and chicken for the foreseeable future. You, on the other hand, Pay me fellow me lass, are the very picture of health." That got him a giggle from both girls, and Tabatha just watched the dynamic between the friends.

"Eggs... you remember when we did that runway thing and all they had on set were boiled eggs and cheese? I kid you not; Tabby boiled blue eggs and little tiny blocks of cheese. Dae smuggled in a protein shake in this milk bottle, and we shared. I could not eat those eggs. Those were skinny days..." Antony agreed and winked at Tabatha, which made her blush, of course.

"I was nineteen and living on honey packets and protein shakes. Payton was eighteen and lived on nothing but green apples and soda water... because that's how Michelle Pfeiffer got so thin for Cat Woman." Antony noticed the shaking of her hand first and reached for the glass nonchalantly to set it on the table by her side.

"Why do you call him Dae?" Tabatha asked curiously, and Payton giggled. "Well, I'm Pay... and he's Dae. Payday? It's an ongoing joke that we used to package ourselves that way. With us on stage, there was always a payday, see? Are you okay, sweetheart?" Tabatha's hand went to her brow as dizziness assailed her, and she saw Antony reach for her as Payton stood quickly and called for Michael.

"It's a seizure." Michael said quietly as Antony lifted her from the chair gently and set her down on the deck on her side. She was seizing pretty badly, and he watched Antony on his knees by her side, calling out her name softly. "Why is she seizing?" Antony asked worriedly, and Michael shrugged before looking up at his wife.

"Has this happened before? Payton, darling, can you go fetch my bag, please?" Payton left at a run, and he looked up at Antony again. "No. She's doing fine... pain when walking, so she doesn't do much of that, but the physiotherapist has us doing stuff to help the mobility along. What is this, Michael?" Michael's dark eyes met his.

"I want to see her tomorrow morning for an MRI. There she goes..." Tabatha went lax but didn't wake up right away. "Is this serious?" Antony was very worried, and the agitation was evident in his voice and the way he was holding onto her legs still. "It was a grand mal seizure. I'm gonna give her a benzo to calm her down when she wakes up that'll make her feel better. This might be why she's still shaky... and won't walk. I'll know more after a few tests."

Tabatha's eyes drifted open a minute or so later, and she frowned up at Michael before her hand went to her mouth urgently. Payton arrived with the bag, and he rummaged inside to find what he needed.

"What--" She began and felt Antony's steady hands lift her back into a sitting position so he could hold her steady by his side. "You had a grand mal seizure, and I'm giving you a lovely benzo, darling, so it doesn't happen again and frighten Dae." He injected her quickly and then did a quick exam. Both boys were standing with their mother just watching, and she frowned at that.

"Do you have a history of these at all? Twitching or blank spots?" Her eyes lifted to Antony's frowning gaze, and she nodded. "I used to have a pretty bad twitch in school... but I was being badly bullied, and after my dad transferred me to another school, they stopped. Doctors chalked it up to anxiety. I've never had a seizure like..." Her voice drifted off as her eyes slipped closed. "I might have had them when I was... vegetative."

Michael thought intently and cleared his throat after a moment. "There wasn't anything like that in the paperwork they sent over with Dae. I want to see you tomorrow morning for an MRI. As far as these things go, this wasn't a bad one and could be anxiety-related... or related to the shaking and muscle rigidity. How are you feeling now?" His large hands traveled down her calves, feeling for rigidity, and he sighed.

"Silly... and floaty." She tilted her head back and met Antony's eyes with a giggle. "You are very fucking pretty." Antony pressed a quick kiss to her lips and folded both arms around her to just hold her. "That would be the benzo. She's either gonna be the life of the party for at least an hour, or she's gonna be asleep in a few minutes." Michael said with a chuckle, and Antony joined in after a second. "I'm so sleepy..." She murmured and then fell asleep. Michael took her pulse and nodded to himself.

"Fast asleep. She's fine now, Antony. I promise." Antony shifted her more fully into his lap and pulled his arms around her before pressing his lips to her dark hair. "Let's take her inside so she can sleep it off." Payton suggested, and Michael agreed as he watched Antony stand with her in his arms and follow his wife into the house. "I hope she's fine." He muttered to himself.

He'd never seen Dae that invested in anyone in the long time they'd known each other. Though why he'd formed such a bond with this woman was a mystery, as much a mystery as where they'd met and why he knew her so well. Payton would no doubt get to the bottom of that; it was something she did very well.

In their long and intense relationship, he'd learned that Dae and Payton genuinely loved each other in the deep, endearing way that only a brother could love a sister and had decided that being jealous was counterproductive to Payton's recovery. He'd just not realized how much Dae had needed the same recovery. Maybe Tabatha could fix this last little bit that neither he nor Payton could.

Tabatha drifted back to wakefulness and felt the groggy feeling of sleep leave her mind bit by bit. For a long moment she just lay there staring at the ceiling and finally lifted a hand to her brow and stifled a sob. Why today of all days did this have to happen to her? She really just wanted to have a nice visit with Antony's closest friend and... well, did there have to be more to it? Probably not...

With a deep swallow, she turned on her side and found dark green eyes smiling at her. It was the eldest boy, Leif, and a smile curved his lips. "I'll go tell Mom you're awake." With that he headed down the hallway in a run, and again Tabatha just closed her eyes and stifled a sob.

It was Antony who entered the room a moment later hurriedly and sat down beside her on the soft bed. "Are you okay?" His voice was laced with concern, and she just offered a nod in return; she didn't trust her voice not to be all wobbly.

Long arms reached around her, though and lifted her up against his chest with a deep sigh that she felt to her toes. "Did I spoil it all?" She murmured by his ear and tipped her head back a moment later to catch his eyes. "Don't be silly, sweetheart. The food is just about done, and I was gonna come and wake you up anyway. I'm just glad you're okay..." His voice drifted off as he met her gaze earnestly and then pressed his mouth to hers warmly.

Shaky arms tightened around his neck before she pushed away a bit and smiled. "I'm hungry. Are there potatoes?" Antony just grinned at her and moved so he could lift her up into his arms and carry her through the kitchen and out to the deck where lunch was set up.

Payton met them with a healthy six-month-old on her hip, wearing a worried smile, and watched as Antony set Tabatha back into the wheelchair before she handed her a glass of juice. "I'm so sorry." She apologized and blushed bright red at the way Michael was watching her. The easy scrutiny somehow laid her mind bare, and she looked away from his dark green eyes to smile up at Payton.

"There's nothing to be sorry about. Here?" She handed the baby over to Antony and headed inside industriously to fetch the food. Michael stood to follow a moment later, and Antony joined her by the table and set the baby on his knee.

"Meet Garret." He grinned, and Tabatha reached for him with a sigh of longing. Having a child with Antony would just about be the best thing that could happen to her. "He's a pretty one." The baby watched her with large, bright azure eyes like his mom's and then grinned at her. "He's a happy baby." Antony ran a hand over the soft, wispy hair and wondered what was going on behind her dark eyes.

"Hey... we'll go home early if you want. All this is a lot... I know." Long fingers folded across her knee, and she pinned him with a serious, dark gaze. "I don't know why that happened, Antony, but it wasn't because I felt overwhelmed or anything." Antony reached for the baby, but she staved off his hand and lifted the little boy to her shoulder so she could reach for Antony's cheek.

"I'm not made of glass, and you don't have to coddle me like this anymore. We talked about this, darling." Pretty lips pressed together as he averted his gaze and then looked up at her. "I don't want to lose you again. Waking up in that hospital room without you was... horrifying, because I genuinely didn't know if I'd ever see you again. I'm going to coddle you, Tabby... because I love you." Now how could she fault him for that?

"I love you too." Their lips met again, and then the couple was back, carrying the food, and Tabatha handed over the baby easily with a last kiss to his chubby cheek.

"How did you two meet?" Michael asked after a pause and watched as Tabatha's dark eyes flew to Antony's, and her hand paused midway between the bowl and her plate as she fought to find a plausible story.

"On a beach." Antony said easily and smiled sweetly at an anxious Tabatha. "With black sand. We sat and talked for a while, and... after I woke up from the accident, I knew I had to find her again." A beach with black sand, Tabatha thought wildly; when had she ever been on an actual black beach? She stopped herself from adding anything and spooned the potato salad onto her plate, biting down on her lip.

"Well... the sand was only black because it was nighttime. I was on holiday in Mexico... my one and only holiday, and I took a moonlit walk. Very romantic..." Antony chuckled at that last bit and handed her the salad with a flourish.

"Where in Mexico did you go? We've been meaning to just go somewhere for such a long time now." Tabatha widened her eyes at Payton's easy question, and a smile tilted her lips. "Cabo San Lucas. It was beautiful." Antony laughed softly at her ability to lie so endearingly.

"Yeah... it was pretty great, and then life happened again, and I lost track of her. Do you wanna know how they met?" Payton giggled at the way Michael rolled his eyes, and Antony pinned him with a smile too.

"I got food poisoning and vomited all over his shoes. Served me right, I thought at the time, for even thinking about eating, but Dae took me to the hospital, and Michael was the ER resident on call. He wasn't a big-shot surgeon yet." Michael grinned at his wife and leaned forward a bit.

"I tossed the shoes in the bin and borrowed a pair of Crocs from a male nurse. Payton was tiny and dehydrated and... sick. Dae was tall and skinny and intimidating... and I just looked at them and knew they were equally sick. Ended up treating them both." Antony couldn't help laughing and lifted a hand to be heard over the laughter. "We shared a burger. It just took me longer to get sick from it. Who were we walking for?" He asked over at Payton, and she thought for a bit.

"Givenchy? Was it... no, it was good old Calvin. Turns out all the models got food poisoning that day because the caterers for the show didn't check the food before they had it delivered. I kept Michael's number anyway, and when I realized I was probably dying from the anorexia... I called him. He was a surgeon by then, but he helped us anyway, and then I sort of fell in love with his big green eyes and... that was it for me." Michael chuckled a bit and sent Leif in for more drinks.

"Sort of fell in love means I had to convince her she was in love with me. By the second baby, though, I knew I had her in the bag." Tabatha laughed heartily with Antony, and he took her hand to press his lips to her palm. "But you made sure she stayed by having a third?" Antony asked, and Michael burst out laughing as he leaned over to press a kiss to his wife's white-gold hair.

"I sure did. I would do anything to keep her with me for as long as I can." The two men agreed, and Tabatha looked back down at her plate for a moment. "Babies are a daunting prospect for me. Don't get me wrong. I'd like to have some, but the commitment and the responsibility seem almost staggering. How did you overcome that?" Payton watched her two older boys eat and sighed slowly.

"I didn't really have the chance to wonder if I'd want to be a mother. It just happened... and God took care of the rest. I take one day at a time and just enjoy them. We make a good team... and that's important. You need a pretty solid support system, and we have that in each other. I also have a great nanny during the week." Tabatha watched the way she skirted around some of the food on her plate and noticed Antony doing the same.

Well, she thought with a sigh; she wasn't going to waste all this lovely food. So she dug in, and after a moment, Antony did the same. Little Pace sidled up to Tabatha to refill her glass, and she smiled into the dark green eyes for a moment.

"Thank you so much, young man. I saw a whole bookcase with books when we got here... are you readers?" Payton's blonde head nodded over at her husband. "Mostly medical books, I'm sorry to say. You must have been a reader, being a librarian." Antony was cutting his steak into long, thin strips, and Tabatha watched him for a moment before she nodded.

"I'd read anything just for the love of reading it. Dae did manage to track down all my books and things. I'd thought I'd lost it all for certain." Her eyes found Antony still cutting, and she simply reached over for his hand and took the knife, which she set down by her plate and cleared her throat.

"I loved my job." Antony was just looking at her as he toyed with his fork lazily, but she ignored him and finished up her potato salad.

"I need my knife." He breathed after a moment, and she shook her head slowly. "No, you don't. All you're doing is playing with your food, and that's a bad example for the children. If you don't want to eat, darling... don't eat." Grinning to himself, he set his fork down and leaned his elbows onto the table to meet Payton's wide eyes staring over at him. That was probably the only time anyone had ever, ever admonished him for setting a bad example where his eating habits were concerned. Strange how he wasn't exactly upset with her.

"Is that a thing again?" Michael asked, and Antony leveled a look on him that the doctor knew all too well. "I'm going to the therapist, and I do eat. Look what you started now, Tabby." Antony accused, and she just lifted a brow at him. "Can I have my knife back?" He asked again, and she just shook her head and handed it back with a sigh.

"It's not a thing, right, Dae?" Payton asked this time, and he just shook his head and looked down at the knife in his hand. "It's always a thing, Payton..." He sighed and found Tabatha just watching him. Frowning only slightly, he picked up his fork again and started eating quietly.

Tabatha's dark eyes met and held Payton's, and she nodded at her encouragingly. Antony needed someone to call him out every now and then where his eating habits were concerned.

With the unwavering attention of a sensitive child, Leif sat forward and caught Antony's eye. "Tell us about the movie Uncle Dae. Is it Marvel again?" Antony grinned at the change of subject and reached over to slip his free hand over Tabatha's knee tenderly. Her fingers covered his, and she smiled into his sea-blue eyes.

"Not Marvel this time. I'm playing a dragon named Eldred, the Tall. He's in a group of dragon knights who have to defend their home after their king is killed. Eldred ends up ruling as steward, but he doesn't want to give up the rule when a king apparent presents himself. A war ensues... and he goes on a hunt for the real king." Leif nodded quickly and looked over at his mother with bright eyes. "That sounds amazing!" Both boys agreed happily.

Antony slipped a piece of steak between his lips and tried not to taste egg. "Please tell me we'll be able to watch this one, please?" Michael ruffled his hair and watched as Antony methodically ate the slivers of meat. "It should be fine. It's a lot of green screen work... and I'm starting training so I can be as big as a house when shooting starts. Gonna need to live up to my name."

Michael leaned in slowly and quirked a brow at him. "Your trainer knows about the injuries, right? I'd hoped you'd put off the training for at least a couple of months more just for your muscles to heal completely." Antony shrugged easily and sighed. "I told him all about it. I won't overdo it, Michael; don't worry."

Tabatha was chewing quietly as her mind sought some memory of the story. "Still seems so familiar, but I can't put my finger on it. I read the script, and Dae has the starring role. I sincerely can't wait to see what you make of it. You are such a phenomenal actor." She beamed happily, and he just grinned at her and winked. Then he finished his plate, and Payton laughed softly. This girl sure knew their Dae very well. Those weren't hollow praises she'd just sung. He was a great actor, but the catch was finding out when he stopped acting. She was sure Tabatha had that all figured out.

They took the road home, and halfway there, Antony pulled over to vomit. Tears filled her eyes when he took the water bottle from her and rinsed his mouth before slipping back into the car and driving off. Silence filled the space around them, and she decided not to say anything until he did.

Antony cleared his throat and took another deep swallow of the water before reaching for her shaky hand. "Just let it go, please. I'm not in the mood..." Tabatha nodded slowly and lifted his fingers to her lips. "We'll watch a movie and have some of that nice tea Leah brought over... and I won't push. I promise I won't push..." His soft eyes found hers, and he smiled slowly.

"Thank you... That sounds perfect."

Dressed comfortably in a pajama shirt and socks. Tabatha made herself comfortable on the couch and listened to him make the tea while switching channels. They were watching Game of Thrones, and although he'd already seen it, he'd watch it with her again.

In shorts and a vest, he joined her and set the mugs down before spreading the blanket over their legs. She had her bowl of popcorn, and he grinned at her look of excitement. She was probably the only woman on earth who hadn't watched the series yet. It was gonna be fun to watch her reaction to Ned Stark dying...

After the first episode, though, he rested his head on her lap and tucked one arm beneath her thighs and the other across to create a pillow. Slim fingers dropped into his hair, and she combed lazily. There was no way he was staying awake with her doing that, and he closed his eyes to drift off.

Tabatha went from soothing his hair to soothing her hand over his shoulder and down his back, and pretty soon she was completely engrossed in the story. As always, she immersed herself in it, and when his shoulders shook violently and he reared up, she couldn't help her shriek of fright! The popcorn bowl landed on the floor, and she clapped both hands across her face as panic screeched through her like a banshee.

"Shit! Fuck..." He swore and stumbled to his feet to run for the bathroom. Tabatha fumbled for the remote and shut off the television hastily and then just tried to breathe calmly. "Antony?" She called and turned on the couch to stare at the open door of the bedroom. "Antony!" She cried a bit louder and heard the toilet flush. Moments later, his heavy footfalls returned, and he headed for the kitchen.

"Are you okay?" She called again; no answer. "Please, did you have a nightmare?" She tried to crane her neck to see into the kitchen, but all she could hear was the clink of a glass as he took it down from the cabinet.

Antony returned a moment later holding a glass of bourbon in one hand, which he swallowed down in one motion before setting the glass down clumsily. "What happened?" She asked again and held out her hands for him; he wasn't moving, though, and tears filled her eyes.

"Harmony... you remember her?" Tabatha nodded and frowned as a gasp lodged in her throat. "She was drowning her babies one after the other... and she was singing, and... and the music filled the kitchen. I was right there watching, and I heard this scratching noise, and the babies erupted into screams and-" He stopped short and lifted his hands to his eyes.

"It was a catcher, and he came for her. I saw him banging on your door, and then he just ran off, and I was back in the kitchen, and he grabbed her. Tabatha... he turned and looked at me. He saw me..." She held out her arms for him again, and he slipped onto the couch and folded his tall body around her so she was cradled in his lap and his arms and legs were curled around hers.

"It was a dream, darling." She crooned soothingly as her fingers tangled into his longer hair again. "What if it wasn't? What if I'm still not forgiven, Tabby... it looked right at me?" Her lips pressed to his brow, and she tilted his head back to meet his tearing eyes.

"You need to have faith that you are. They look at me too, but they won't come for either of us. We're saved... we're forgiven and saved and safe." His face nestled into her neck again, and her arms tightened around him. "Do you have nightmares like that? Why didn't you tell me?" Narrow shoulders shrugged, and he pulled her in closer.

"I've started writing them down. Hey... this isn't the Between. They can't just come in and drag us away from the living. There are rules. There have to be rules... You're safe here with me, Antony. Rules kept us safe there, and they will keep us safe here too." His head tilted back again, and then he was kissing her almost urgently as one hand slipped beneath the shirt to cup her breast.

Tabatha let him remove the material and sighed when his mouth returned to hers; one large hand kneaded a breast as the other tugged into her hair. After a deep kiss laced with need, he tugged his shirt away and pulled her up against him so he could bury his face between her breasts and then suckle roughly.

She felt her world tilt as her hands steadied into his dark hair and let him draw whatever comfort he needed from her body. Pretty soon he was kissing her again as his hands helped her rest her knees around his hips. "Am I hurting you?" He groaned as both large hands slipped around her hips and higher to mold her to his hands and body. "No." She lied a bit and cried out in pleasure as he found her entrance moist and ready and thrust inside.

She managed to roll her hips a few times, but by then he was doing almost all the work for her as his mouth claimed hers again, his tongue sliding against hers deeply and lazily.

"My legs hurt." She gasped, and he pushed her down onto the couch and leaned over her to thrust into her again. "Better?" His murmur was hot against her brow, and she arched against him with a lazy moan. "You need to marry me." The words left her throat in a strangled groan, and his answer was much the same. "Tomorrow." Then the orgasm tore through her, and she felt him shudder and shake a moment later as he came with a guttural groan that inflamed her mind even more.

Afterward he gathered her to him and buried his face between her breasts. It wasn't enough, though, and he sucked a nipple into his mouth and just let his tongue slip around and around until his heart stopped hammering in his chest.

Tabatha couldn't help the tears that streamed down her face as her hands slipped into his hair. He was suckling like a baby would for comfort. How much more complex could this man be? The love she felt for him at that moment made her heart contract sharply, and her arms tightened around his neck and drew him in closer.

"I love you." She murmured, and his mouth moved to her other breast. "I'm gonna love away all the hurt, Antony. I don't care what it takes..."

"I'll have Leah take me for the MRI, and you can get to work. I'll have Michael call you with the results, and if there's anything wrong, you can just come get me." Antony was standing on the opposite side of the kitchen table, sipping from his mug and looking agitated.

"I want to take you." Tabatha nodded and then just grinned. "I know... but you also need to get to work and get the training schedules. This is what Leah's here for, remember? And Beckett will come along too. So I'll be more than fine." She rubbed across her breast and could see his eyes follow the movement. He'd loved them pretty hard, and she was tender this morning.

She'd decided to start reading up, but she also needed some stuff from the drugstore that she didn't want him to know about at all. Breast cream was number one on the list. He'd needed the comfort, and her breasts were that comfort, so she was just gonna sort of go with it for now.

"I have that card you gave me in case of emergencies... and I want to use it to buy some things." His brows lifted. "Girl things, Antony." Then he grinned, and she knew he was okay with it. "We should do that together." This time her brows lifted, and he chuckled.

"No. Some things a girl needs to shop for alone. That's Leah." She smiled when the doorbell rang, and he left to open it, laughing softly.

Leah started talking the moment the door opened, and all she could understand of the rambled Spanish was cameras and story. Antony followed her into the kitchen and held up his hands to stop her tirade.

"I don't speak Spanish, my lovely girl. What happened, please?" Leah set her bag down, took off her coat, and took a deep breath. "This morning there was a journalist outside asking all sorts of questions about the woman who is living here. I said nothing, but they followed me to the door and offered me money for a photograph. I'm scared now to take her outside, Mr. Holden." Antony pressed his lips together and took a deep breath.

"I'll be back." With that cryptic little Terminator reference, he left, and Tabatha held out a soothing hand to the nurse. "Fix yourself some coffee and sit down first. That must have been awful." Leah agreed and poured herself a mug before she sat down and patted her short dark hair. "I've never had a job as good as this one, mija. I'm scared to lose it. Mr. Holden is very good to me." Tabatha smiled to set her at ease more and looked up at the clock on the wall.

"You won't lose your job, dear. Don't worry, but we need to start getting ready, please. I'm to go see Dr. Petersen for an MRI this morning. I had a seizure, and he's worried." Her voice drifted off when Antony rounded the counter with a deadpan expression on his face.

He found his phone and left while dialing. "I hate when he does that." She muttered under her breath and then met the nurse's large, dark eyes. "Was it a grand mal seizure?" Leah asked knowingly, and Tabatha nodded; she'd been worried about the shaking too.

"It was... he's also worried about the shaking and the way my legs are still rigid. I talked Dae into going to work while you and Beckett take me to the hospital... but now it's all up in the air again." They could hear him argue with someone in the bedroom and shared a worried glance.

"You tell Fancyne if I find him I'm gonna beat seven sorts of shit from him, Payton! He went to the papers with Jessa's ludicrous story, and they've swamped the front door. How the fuck am I supposed to get Tabby to the hospital? I can't take her out there!" Antony felt the frustration break out in hives all over him as he paced the bedroom floor furiously.

Payton handed Leif and Pace their lunches but held out a hand for her husband and reached for a kiss. "Just hold on, Dae?" She begged and met her husband's green eyes. "He can't get past his front door. Fancyne and Jessa went to the papers, and... can you send some kind of transport from the hospital to fetch Tabby?" Michael nodded quickly and ran a hand over his neat dark beard. "Sure. I'll sort it out, darling. Tell him not to fret. I'll take care of it." He pressed a warm kiss to her lips and headed outside to ferry the kids to school.

"Dae... Michael will send a transport for her with security and everything. You should call that guy over at Compositum. Remember? I still have them keeping an eye on me and the boys since that thing with the stalker." Antony remembered and looked down at his shaking hands.

"Pay... I don't want to lose her. I don't want her to look at my life and decide she can't do it." Payton felt her throat close up at that and stifled a sob as she looked down at Garret, fast asleep in his stroller. "She loves you, Dae, and she's a strong girl. She'll not let anyone bully her. I'll do some damage control with Fancyne and Jessa... and you just go to work and leave it to me? Okay? I love you, me fellow me lad." He heaved a sigh and shrugged.

"I love you too, me fellow me lass. We should get those two out of our lives for good. You'll be better off without that shark in your shop." Payton agreed and tidied up around her without thinking. "That's gonna be hard considering they own half of it." Antony cleared his throat and sighed.

"I'm gonna make a shitload of money on this movie, so we'll buy them out, and then it'll be all yours. I have to go Pay. Thanks for helping." Payton stopped what she was doing for a moment and swallowed against the knot in her throat his promise evoked. Even after all this time, he was still taking care of her. "I'm always here for you, Dae. You are my greatest friend, you know that, right?" Antony nodded and then took a breath. "You're mine too. I'm gonna call that lawyer quickly."

Antony returned to the kitchen ten minutes later and sat down opposite Tabatha with a frown. "Michael's sending over a transport to take you for the tests. I've spoken to a security firm that I've worked with before--they still look after Payton and her kids--and they'll be here this afternoon to sort out what needs sorting out." Leah left the kitchen quickly, and Tabatha reached over for his hand.

"What happened down there?" His sea-blue eyes lowered to their clasped hands, and he sighed wearily. "Fancyne went to the papers on Jessa's behalf. I shut her up... but couldn't shut Fancyne up as well. Tabby... they could ruin me." Her heart leapt into her throat at the look on his face, and she leaned in a bit more so she could catch his eyes and keep them.

"This about the violence or the starvation?" That was blunt, he thought, and he shrugged; blunt in this situation was probably better. "Anorexia... not starvation; and yes, it's about the violence that she liked and instigated and wanted. I did what she wanted me to do so she'd shut up and leave me alone. We talked about this, remember?" Licking her lips, she leaned in a bit more and drew his fingers to her lips.

"We'll tackle this together." I'm going to smile and wave and tell them they're insane for accusing you of something that awful. As a girl in a wheelchair who can't stop her hands from shaking, I'm going to have the sympathy vote, and they'll end up looking childish and petty. Look at me?" His eyes lifted.

"We can do this together. You and me... us." A smile tilted the corners of his mouth as his lips slid apart, and she pulled him in for a kiss. "Are you still gonna marry me?" Her nod was quick. "I'm going to get us a license online if you give me your information, and you can ask that lawyer for a prenup. As soon as it's done, I'm saying yes." This time he was laughing, and he rounded the table to lift her up against his chest exuberantly.

"That means I get to hold a boob every night?" Tabatha just giggled as her arms tightened around his neck, and she nodded lovingly. "Yes. You get to hold the boobs." Oh, it was so easy to just love him to completion, she thought, and yet it was probably the most complicated thing on earth to do as well.

"Alright then. Hello Dae... Glad you could join us. I have good news and a bit of bad news and a treatment option." They were in his office after a whole day of tests and machines, and Tabatha was feeling very shivery, tired, and irritated. Michael, though, seemed so positive that she had to smile when Antony took her trembling hand.

"You have a tiny low-grade glioma in your cerebellar region. It's causing a cerebellar tremor that fits all your symptoms. It's typically a slow, easily visible tremor of the extremities, like your arms or legs, that occurs at the end of a purposeful movement, such as trying to press a button or walking. It's caused by damage to the cerebellum and its pathways to other brain regions resulting from a stroke or tumor. You had a tumor removed, and I'd hoped there wouldn't be any damage, but symptoms sometimes sneak up on us like that. That's why you have trouble with the walking and the shaking and, of course, the reason you're here, the grand mal you experienced."

Antony lifted a hand to his mouth, and his eyes found a framed photograph of Payton and the boys against the wall. Tabatha was looking down at her hands, and then she cleared her throat and looked up at him seriously.

"Do we fix it? Or... medicate it? Is it new, or was it there before? How do I deal with this?" Antony captured her hand again and sat forward meaningfully. "It wasn't there before, Michael." Michael nodded his dark head and leaned forward as well.

"It's an easy fix, and that's by way of being the good news. It'll take about eighteen months for the full benefit to be seen, but it's the best option I have. It's non invasive... at all. You may lose a tiny bit of hair where the pins go, but other than that, it's painless. It'll take a day to complete all of the procedures, but the actual thing takes about an hour for the size of the tumor. It's called stereotactic radiosurgery; it uses a high-focus radiation beam. It can target specific cancer cells. So, it effectively treats the cancer cells without any damage to surrounding tissue. I want to use the Gamma Knife procedure because I'm very familiar with it... it sounds worse than it is and doesn't involve knives or you turning into She-Hulk." The grin brought out his dimples, and Tabatha let go of a sigh of relief.

"And it'll fix everything? The shaking and the walking... the seizures?" Michael nodded again and proceeded to explain the procedure to her in more detail using the MRI and CGI scans he'd done.

"When can we do it?" Antony asked in her stead, and she nodded with him. "If I book you in now, we can do the procedure the day after tomorrow. I'll fast-track and urgentify, as Leif calls it, everything to get it done as soon as we can. You can send the caregiver home to fetch the jammies, and I'll make the arrangements. Is that good?" Tabatha nodded again and ran a tired hand over her eyes. "That's fine... Could there be more tumors, though?"

Michael stood and walked around the table to hunch by her knees, wearing his best smile. "I was so deep into your brain today, darling, that I know your mind better than you do. I knew where to look for that specific tumor, but believe me, sweetheart, there's nothing hiding anywhere else. I made sure of it. I remember telling Dae, when he first brought you to me, as I tried to figure out why you were vegetative from a brain injury that shouldn't have caused even a coma, that the body is a strange and wonderful thing, and if we listen to it, it'll tell us what's wrong. That seizure was your brain telling us something was up. As in life, there are no guarantees to anything, but life is for living. You want this life with big and tall here, and I'm gonna make sure you get to live all of it. I promise."

She simply reached forward and slipped her arms around his neck to pull him in for a tight hug. "Thank you, Michael... for giving me a chance to live it."

Antony rested back against the chair and tried to find a comfortable position. This was gonna be a long wait, and he lifted his script from Tabatha's bag and started memorizing. For some reason he liked to memorize everybody's lines, so that meant it took him a bit longer. Having perfect recall was both a blessing and a curse. You remembered both the good and the bad equally.

He was waiting in the private room that he made sure she got for the day. Worrying about her while he was sitting in a hall with people staring was not what he needed to be doing, so he'd just bought the room for the day and made sure he'd be alone. Six bottles of protein shakes stood arranged on the ground by his feet. That still made him smile. Tabatha knew he wasn't going to be eating, so she'd made sure he wouldn't be hungry.

With a sigh he set to work, and by the time Payton slipped through the door, he'd gotten through twenty pages. Knowing exactly what the other actor was supposed to say next helped him be prepared for his own scenes that much better.

"Hey there. You heard anything yet?" Payton asked and handed down a bottled water with a smile. Antony smiled, and she sat down on the edge of the bed and set her bag down at her feet. "Hey yourself. No... I haven't heard anything. What are you even doing here, Pay?" A slim shoulder shrugged, and as a lazy hand slipped through her soft blonde hair.

"I have a nanny for a reason, you know... so I took the day off and came over to talk." Antony closed the script and leaned back into the chair with a deep, heartfelt sigh. "Talk about what, honey?" Her eyes were the lightest, baby blue shade imaginable, but when she was worried, the shade somehow intensified, and thus he always knew when to be ready for whatever she had on her mind. This was serious, Payton; he didn't see her often anymore.

"Jessa and Fancyne. I spent three hours yesterday talking to them, and it got me exactly nowhere. Someone offered her a book deal." Antony chuckled and lifted a theatrical hand. "What? My life with Dade Holden?" Payton lifted a brow at him in frustration, and he pressed his lips together.

"Something to that effect? I say let her write this fictional tale of violence and starvation and see who believes her." Antony continued, ignoring her look altogether. "Might even give my movie some publicity." Payton lifted the other brow too and cleared her throat. "Violence and starvation? Really? Come on, Dae... You're bigger than this. Fight her for, if nothing else... your dignity. Nobody deserves to know anything about you that you don't want them to." Antony sat forward at this and braced his elbows on his knees as he pinned her with a narrowed gaze.

"And they won't. Jessa doesn't know me. Sometimes, Payton, you don't even know who I am. I'm an actor. I act... I needed her to play a role, and that's what I did. There was no reality to it. She doesn't know anything about me. Nothing. Want me to prove it?" Payton narrowed her eyes now too and remembered why she sometimes disliked her very best friend just a bit. When he got like this, she could never tell where the truth ended and the lies began.

"Where did I grow up?" Payton huffed, but he held up a hand and widened his eyes in question. "New York. Same as me... right? Dae, don't play head games with me today. I am not in the mood for it." Antony rubbed across an eye and nodded.

"I'm not from New York, or anywhere remotely near it. My birth name isn't Dade Holden. The first thing I did when I got money was pay a lawyer a lot of money to have all my records sealed and any trace of me and my parents wiped. Legally, that person doesn't exist anymore. I'm an orphan. The only people who know about the abuse... or any of it are you and Tabatha. Jessa thinks I was bullied because I was tall and too thin, and that's why I have anger issues; and the anorexia thing stems from the fact that I always wanted to be a model, but people thought I was too tall, so I didn't eat. She's gonna try and turn me into some prima donna who got violent when I didn't get my way... and that'll be her mistake, because I'm not a prima donna. Everyone who has ever worked with me knows this. I'm a sweetheart." Payton took a long look at him and then nodded.

"She'll get the sympathy vote, though. What about that?" Antony shrugged nonchalantly and waved a hand around the room. "Will she? I have Tabby. Perfect sweet Tabby, who saved a lost soul and brought him peace. Her words... not mine. She's my sympathy card. As soon as she's better from this, I'm having a press conference to announce my engagement to her formally. I know it's usually not something I'd do, but I need everyone to see why I changed my whole life to be with her." Payton couldn't help her smile, but it didn't last as another reason for her being here popped into her head.

"I'm selling my shares in the boutique to them. I'm taking my name, but they get the business as is. I talked it over with Michael, and he agrees that it's better that way." Antony took a breath to disagree, but she stopped him with a wave of her hand. "You put everything into it that you ever earned, Pay!" He couldn't help but be angry at her for knuckling under like this.

"I'm not stupid, Dae. I made sure I'd get every penny I invested in it and then some. I have social media, and I'm going to make good use of it. I need to be home for the boys more. I missed so much with Leif and Pace, and I don't wanna make the same mistakes with Garret. Also... and this is the most important reason: I can't look at them anymore. I look at Fancyne, and I cringe at my own thoughts. You are important to me... and they're gonna use it against me eventually. So I'm getting out on my terms."

Antony's lips were pressed together again, and he reached down for one of the protein shakes to take a deep swallow. "Well then, Payton, me fellow me lass, are we done talking?" She held out her hand for the shake and took a swallow. "That's the good stuff. Tabby made sure. She's good for me. Pay, Michael will fix her, and she'll be whole, and we'll get married... have kids maybe. I want a real life. Something real that belongs only to me. Something not tainted with all the madness." Payton took another swallow and nodded.

"What if she gets sick again, Dae me fellow me lad?" Antony shrugged quietly and ran a hand over his eyes. "I'll take whatever I can and hold onto her as tight as I can. God put us together, Payton... If not for her, I'd be dead."

Tabatha was still asleep when he left that evening, and Michael had promised him she was not going to wake up any time soon. So he went home... alone; and it was the most wretched he'd felt in a long time. Suddenly the silence that he cultivated to such an extent in the past was too much; the silence was too oppressive, and he switched on the television softly.

The music station that she loved to watch spewed out old eighties ballads, and he just smiled at that. She sure loved music, and he'd learned that sometimes the silliest song would captivate her, and she'd listen to it again and again and laugh every time. Sighing, he found YouTube and the playlist she'd set up for them. Shuffle, he thought, just shuffle it and pretend she's asleep. That should be easy.

It wasn't... so he headed for the kitchen and found an open bottle of wine. Taking it with him, Antony sagged onto the couch and shut off the lights to let the darkness enfold him. Somewhere between Vinnie Bonefield and Juice Newton, he fell asleep, cradling the now-empty bottle to his side.

"Open your eyes, Antony...?" A voice hissed by his ear, and he stiffened but kept his eyes shut as tightly as he could. "Look, I am a pretty little girl... or do you want me to be a pretty little boy?" The watcher was speaking close to his ear now, and he took a calming breath and stayed quiet. There were rules; even here, there had to be rules. There had to be a door he could close... and then he saw it and spoke the words very softly.

"The Blood of the Salvation of Jesus Christ protects me from you. I am not afraid." There was a sharp intake of breath, and it hissed again, this time closer. Antony repeated the phrase louder this time and rubbed both hands across his eyes.

Then it was gone... The oppressive darkness was gone, and he opened his eyes to stare at the television. The music had stopped, and the silence nearly overtook him again. Gritting his teeth, he stood shakily and systematically switched on all the lights in the loft. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. So there were rules after all...

Tabatha lifted her phone with a smile and answered easily. "Hey darling. Did you get some sleep?" Antony grinned down at the cup in his hand. "Not a wink. How're you feeling, sweetheart?" Tabatha shrugged and touched a hand to the sore spots just above her brows. "Sleepy... But I just had breakfast, and they said Michael would be by later to talk to me. Are you heading to training?" The heartfelt sigh was answer enough, and she cleared her throat.

"What's wrong, honey?" Antony fiddled with his keys a moment and then lifted his gym bag across his shoulder to head for the door. "I had nightmares... and I missed you. Will you call me when he is there?" Tabatha turned onto her side and licked across her lips. "I'm sorry about the nightmares, but don't worry; I'll be there tonight to chase them away." Antony chuckled softly and locked the door behind him before he took the stairs.

"Can I hold a boob?" That got him a giggle, and he chuckled with her. "Yes, honey... You get to hold both boobs. I'll call when Michael is here... hey, I love you." His murmured answer made her grin broaden, and then he was gone. She lay staring at her phone for a moment and tried to clear her mind.

She still felt groggy and hazy, but that was bound to clear up in a few days. At least she wasn't nauseous, and that was always a good thing. Still holding her phone, she fell asleep again, thinking just how lucky she was...

"Good morning there, darling. How are we feeling?" Michael asked as he took the chart from a hovering nurse, and Tabatha smiled up at him and touched her forehead. "This stings. Please tell me all this wasn't for nothing." Michael ran a hand over his beard and winked at her. How did Payton ever say no to that smile? She wondered and blushed at her thoughts. She couldn't help but feel grateful for his care and attention.

"It went extremely well. Textbook procedure that went exactly as I knew it would. The tumor should start shrinking, but it'll take a while, darling. So you need to be patient? Give your body time to sort out the circuitry. It'll happen... so I am going to let you go home. Is the big guy coming to pick you up?" Tabatha nodded with a grin and cleared her throat.

"I just have to call him. Thank you, Michael... again." His smile was sincere, and he patted her shoulder before signing the documentation the nurse had produced quickly. He kept them on their toes.

"It's always a pleasure, darling. You need to call me if you feel out of sorts. Remember the fatigue and tenderness where the pins were will be there for a couple of days more, but serious symptoms like intense nausea and headaches, or a seizure, need immediate attention. Okay?" Her nod was quick, and then he was leaving again. Charming and competent; no wonder Payton looked at him like he was the sun.

An hour later Antony jogged into her room still in his sweatpants and t-shirt and smiled when he found her sitting on the edge of the bed rummaging in her overnight bag. "Hey." He greeted and pressed a kiss to her lips before sitting down on the bench to reach for the bag. "Hey yourself. I could have just called Leah to come get me, you know." Antony lifted a brow at her and slipped shoes onto her bare feet. She'd had a nurse help her shuffle herself back into yoga pants and a tank top before she tugged on a cardigan and ran a hand through her hair.

"I know... but I'm the star of the show, so I get some liberties. I've worked with Nathan before, and he's waiting patiently for me to get back. I wanted to do this, sweetheart." She leaned in for another kiss, and then he was pushing the wheelchair over so he could lift her inside. "I called Leah, and she's on her way home, so she'll be there when I drop you off. What did Michael say?" She relayed the conversation, and his eyes met hers worriedly. "Shouldn't you stay another day then?"

A perfectly arched brow lifted, and she just shook her head at him. "No. I'm going to be fine. Give me that bag so we can go, please?" He set the bag on her knees with a chuckle. "Yes, ma'am."

The drive home was uneventful as usual, but she made him stop off for donuts and coffee though. He indulged her with a chuckle and smiled when she reached over to slip her hand across his thigh. "Did you eat last night?" Now how did he know she was going to want to know that? Because he knew her very well by now, that's how.

"No. It was too late when I got in, and I just fell asleep on the couch. I had a lovely breakfast: chicken breast, rice and a protein shake. Satisfied?" Tabatha chuckled and touched her forehead again. "Yes, thank you."

Leah was already waiting when they arrived, and he carted her up the stairs easily as Leah took the wheelchair up in the elevator along with her bag and things. "We could have gone up with the chair?" His breathing was still even though when she stuck the card in the slot and the door swung in. "I need the exercise." Long strides took her to the bedroom easily, and he set her down on the edge of the bed with a sigh.

"Get some rest? I'll be back at six... maybe earlier." Tabatha reached up for a hug and pressed her mouth to his warmly. "Thank you, Antony." That got her another deep kiss and a smile before he headed for the door to speak to Leah quickly.

"Here is your coffee and the donuts. Do you need something else? I'm gonna start prepping Mr. Holden's menu since I'm here. Got a list as long as my arm." Leah fussed around her, and Tabatha just grinned slowly. "Thank you, Leah. Can you get the medication they gave from my purse? I just need a tablet for the pain." The older woman nodded easily and left for the bag. She came back with a glass of water and handed it down.

"Don't be brave, please? You need to tell me if you feel bad. This is why I'm working here. I'm a nurse." Tabatha nodded quickly and rummaged inside for the brown paper bag. "I promise, and I promised Michael, and I promised Dae. I'm just going to sleep." Feeling groggy, she watched Leah leave and swallowed two tablets with some of the water.

Somewhere between the coffee and her second donut she fell asleep and that's how Antony found her that night.

"Hey there, sleepyhead. You okay?" He hunched by the side of the bed, and she looked up at him hazily as both hands tugged through her hair. "Fine... just hungry. Did you eat yet?" Antony shook his head and leaned over for a kiss before he stood and headed for the shower.

Tabatha watched him go and struggled into a sitting position. A hangover-like headache throbbed behind her eyes, and she found the medication and took two quickly. She usually didn't like taking medication, but lately she hadn't had much of a choice. Besides, she wanted to hear all about his new training program, and she couldn't do that with a headache.

He appeared a few minutes later with the towel draped low around his hips and his hands tugging through his wet hair tiredly. Oof... Tabatha thought, that was a romance novel on steroids! Sometimes she still found it extremely hard to believe that all that copper-skinned goodness belonged to her. She could touch him and love him anytime she wanted. It was a tad bit surreal.

Watching him slip into comfortable sweatpants and a vest had her blushing, and she touched her hair again. To think, he wanted to hold her boobs. How lucky was she!

"Are you ready?" That grin and those sleepy bedroom eyes had her smiling, and she nodded. She sure was ready for anything he wanted. "I need a shower first, please. Wanted to shower earlier, but I fell asleep. I smell like hospital." Antony reached for her but hugged her tight first before pressing his mouth to hers.

"You need me to wash your back?" Slim fingers traced through his hair softly. "Then we'll never get around to dinner." That was actually true; he had to relent on that. They got so caught up in each other that there wasn't room for anything else.

Antony headed for the kitchen after helping her into the shower and started the kettle for tea. Strange how her presence in here kept away all the shadows and silence; he'd kill to keep her here. That sounded a bit over the top, but the feeling persisted. There really wasn't anything he wouldn't do to keep her in his arms. He needed to marry her. The necessity thereof was imperative, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to marry her soon.

She'd applied for the license, and he just needed to pick it up, and he could do it tomorrow. They could be married by the weekend; well, maybe not that soon. She'd want some kind of ceremony and a dress. Payton, he'd need Payton's help to get it done. With his mind filled with plans, he headed for the bathroom when she called.

She'd just finished knotting the towel around her head when he slipped in and slipped both hands beneath her arms to lift her up against him. She clung to his shoulders and tipped her head back with a grin. The towel slipped away from her hair, and one hand reached up to tug through the wet strands.

"I can go fetch the license tomorrow. That means all you need is a dress and a venue, and we can get married. I already got a tux... and we have Payton to arrange it all. How about it? You still wanna marry me?" Tabatha's eyes widened as her hands slipped around his neck. "Are you sure you want to rush into a wedding like that?" His expressive brows drew together in a frown as his lips parted in question.

"Why not? If you have family you want to invite, I'll make that happen too. I have Payton... and that's about it." Long arms tightened around her waist as he lifted her higher easily and she licked at her dry lips. "I don't have anyone either... as you've noticed I'm a bit of an orphan. Okay... we can invite Leah and her husband and sons?" A smile tilted his lips as his chest hitched and then he was kissing her again.

"Food?" He breathed against her lips when she broke the kiss, and she nodded with a giggle. "I promise you get to do whatever you want with me after dinner." With a promise like that, he was for sure going to make sure dinner was over real quick.

"Dae?" The male voice asked, and since there were precious little people who called him by that name, he was certain it was Michael. They'd only just finished dinner and he was making tea again. "I need your help with Payton? She's been... screaming." Michael said worriedly and Antony could hear her in the background. He could also hear the baby that Michael was probably holding. "What happened?" He asked quickly and turned to Tabatha with a frown.

"I don't know. I got home ten minutes ago and found Leif with Garret and Pace in his bedroom. Payton locked herself in the bathroom, and I'm--" He stopped, and Antony started moving for the bedroom. "I'm coming, Michael. It's gonna take us an hour to get there. Try and get the door open in the meantime. She might be cutting." Michael's gasp was heartfelt, and then the baby started crying again.

"Just please hurry?" The phone went dead, and Antony returned to push her into the bedroom too. "It's Payton. She locked herself in the bathroom... she's screaming." He started dressing quickly, and Tabatha turned the chair to the dresser to find leggings and a shirt quickly. Done dressing, Antony helped her dress, and then they were heading for the door.

"Leif, darling. Can you please give him his bottle? It's in the fridge, please. Take your brothers downstairs? I need to take care of Mommy. Put on a movie, okay?" Leif nodded tearfully and took the baby from his father. "Is she okay?" He asked shakily, and Michael tried a smile. "Somebody called her, and she cried." Pace said up at his tall father, and Michael felt his heart lurch. Not many people had this effect on her.

"Bring me mommy's phone?" Pace ran off, and he watched as Leif headed for the stairs. He sent Pace down after him and looked down at the phone in his hand.

The sudden quiet was worrying, and he tried the door again. "Payton, darling. Please open up. Sweetheart, please, what's going on?" He tried again, and the sobbing continued. At least that meant she was alive...

Finally, though, he drove his shoulder into the door, and it swung open as the lock gave. He stumbled inside and found her on the floor by the toilet. There was blood and vomit everywhere, and he instinctively reached for a towel and dropped it onto the mess on the floor and then knelt so he could capture her hands.

The moment his hands closed around hers, she started screaming again, but he needed to see if she was injured badly and held on. "Calm down, Payton! It's me sweetheart!" He couldn't see any cuts on her arms and looked down at her thighs, where all the old scars were hidden on the inside.

Blood had dried by now, which meant they were superficial, and he found another towel and cleaned up around her as best he could. She wouldn't let him touch her, though; her eyes were wild and unfocused. This was an obvious psychotic break, and since he knew exactly what those looked like by now, he knew what to do, but she needed to be calmed down first. For that he needed Dae, so he sat down opposite her and tried to soothe her as best he could.

That's how Antony found them forty-five minutes later, and his cry of sympathy brought tears to Michael's eyes too. "She won't let me touch her, but I need to fix her legs before the boys see." Antony knelt by his side, and he reached for her cheeks.

"Pay... hey honey. Shhh-"She pulled away sharply, but he held on and forced her eyes to his. "Focus Payton! It's Dae! Hey look at me? It's me and Michael sweetheart... let us help you?" Bloodstained hands erupted up between them as she screamed again and Michael nodded over at Antony. "I'm gonna sedate her." Antony shook his head quickly and slipped his hands beneath her arms to shake her roughly.

"Let her come out of it first; otherwise, she's just going to keep screaming when she wakes up again." Finally she slumped in his arms, and her wide eyes found his confusedly. "You're safe, Pay. You're safe." He soothed her, and her head slumped to the side as her eyes found Michael's teary gaze. "Dae... he's coming, coming... and-"She burst into tears again, and Antony looked over at Michael.

"I'm gonna give you something, darling? Payton, baby? Look at me?" Her eyes found his again, and she nodded before Antony tilted her forward against his chest, and she went limp. Exhaustion and the sedative Michael administered pulled her under, and he reached for her with a sigh. "Her brother?" Antony nodded. "Fuck... can you get her to the bedroom?"

Michael set about cleaning the gashes on her inner thighs with tears burning his cheeks and watched as Antony tried to clean off most of the blood on her arms and hands. It wouldn't be good for her to wake up and see what she'd done.

"I was in surgery when Leif tried to call me, and I missed his calls. Came straight home... they were in the bedroom with the baby. Poor kid..." He remembered her phone in his pocket and scrolled to the last received number. "Unknown. Pace said she talked to someone and then started crying and locked herself in. Do you think it was him?" Antony nodded and sat back on his heels.

"Who else? This is bad, Michael." That he knew all too well and applied the last of the dressing shakily. His hands were shivery, and that was rare. "She could have killed herself. I thought we were past all this. She hasn't done anything like this since Pace was born, remember?" Antony reached for his shoulder and patted it consolingly. "We'll sort it out." The resigned nod made his chest contract.

"She keeps breaking..." No matter how hard he tried to just love all her pain away, he could never love her enough. "And we keep fixing her. Let's go check on the boys. She's gonna be asleep for a while." Michael nodded over at him and leaned across to press a kiss to her brow. "I love you, baby." He whispered, and they headed downstairs.

Tabatha had the sleeping baby against her shoulder, and Pace was sitting on her lap looking forlorn. Leif was fixing coffee while trying not to cry too. Michael pulled him into a hug, though and pressed a kiss to his dark hair. "She's fine now, buddy. Don't worry... I'm so proud of you." The little boy looked up into his father's eyes sadly. "Why didn't you answer your phone, Daddy?" He asked finally, and Michael swallowed hard.

"I was in surgery, and I didn't see your calls. You know what?" He hunched so he could see his eyes better. "Next time I don't answer, you call Dae or Tabby, okay? You did good keeping your brothers quiet like that." Leif collapsed into his embrace, and Antony watched with a knot in his throat.

Tabatha was still swaying the baby, and he reached down and lifted Pace up onto his arm. "You boys hungry?" Pace nodded, and Antony pushed Tabatha deeper into the kitchen. "We'll get pizza?" The dark head nodded again, and he set him down on a chair and found his phone.

Michael took over the coffee and then turned to Tabatha worriedly. "Are you okay, darling? You're very pale." She just shook her head at him and soothed a hand over Garret's back languidly. "I'm fine. Really, I'm fine. It's just the worry." This man with his slumped shoulders was a far cry from the confident doctor she'd come to know.

"We'll stay as long as you need." Antony breathed, and Michael nodded up at him. "Thanks. I'm gonna wake her up in a bit just to make sure she's... over it. I might need your help again." The quiet way he said this drove the fear for her well-being home to Antony, and he tried to contain his own reaction to it.

"We--" He tried, but the words couldn't get past the obstruction in his throat. Tabatha reached out and slipped her hand around his wrist to gain his attention. The pure, terrified sadness drew tears to her eyes, and she tried a brave smile. "It's okay." She murmured, and he nodded before he headed for the front door. He needed air.

The baby was put to bed, and the boys were fed and tucked in together in Leif's room, and finally Tabatha could face both men and ask the question. "What is this about?" Antony cleared his throat and looked over at his friend with a sigh.

"She ran away from home when she was fifteen. Daddy was a drunk, Mama left and her older brother... raped her. Then he had friends over, and they raped her too. When she woke up, she packed a bag and left. We met in a homeless shelter just after I got to New York, and... we were kindred spirits from the beginning. On a whim, we both auditioned for Calvin Klein and got the job. She saw this advertisement and browbeat me until we went. We had the need for starvation in common, and we got an apartment, and... yeah, I was still... prostituting myself, and we got by. Those were dark, hungry days... but we survived. We'll survive again." He was quiet for a moment, and Tabatha could feel the emotion coming off him now.

"The first time her brother found her, he beat her near senseless and raped her again. I showed up in the middle of it and called the cops... after I took my fists to him. We got a restraining order, and he left her alone. The last time he found her, she was already seeing Michael, and I was shooting a movie in England." Michael swallowed hard and looked down at his hands.

"Security stopped him from getting near our apartment, and I called the cops on him. She was hysterical for days, but I finally calmed her down. Next time I see him, he's getting a syringe full of morphine in the neck." Darkness wove itself around that sentence, and Tabatha saw him through new eyes.

"Believe me when I say there's a special place in hell for men like him. He's going to be out there swimming in a lake of demons." Antony met her eyes and bit down on his lip.

"You've both been through hell and back, Dae. All we can do in this life is keep our faith in God and beg for His salvation. I don't know how else to help her feel safe." They agreed silently, and Michael stood with a sigh.

"I need to wake her up to see if I need to get her to the hospital. Will you come up with us?" Tabatha nodded easily, and Antony reached down to lift her up against his chest in an easy movement.

"There you are, sweetheart." Michael breathed after he'd injected her again. Soft blue eyes slipped open lazily as slim arms folded across her chest. "Michael...?" She whispered, and he smiled at her tearfully. "I need to see if you're okay, baby." Her face turned away, and she noticed Tabatha sitting on the side of the bed. With a soft cry, she pulled herself into a sitting position and reached for her clumsily. Tabatha caught her hands, though and with Antony's arms around her waist, they pulled her into Tabatha's embrace soothingly.

"It's okay. You're safe, Payton." Tabatha soothed as slim arms slipped around her neck to hold on tightly. Michael just watched and felt the pain of it render his heart into shards. Why did she never come to him for comfort like that? What was it he did wrong? Now though wasn't the time to be a husband; he needed to be a doctor and cleared his throat as he moved closer.

"Sweetheart, I need to look at you, please?" Payton moved from Tabatha's arms and folded a hand around Antony's to stop him from pulling away. "I'm fine." She muttered, but he pulled out a penlight anyway. "I'm fine now, I said, Michael." Anger tinged her words, but he tilted her head back to look at her eyes anyway. "Please just let me look at you?" Antony spoke up too, and finally she let him do what he needed.

"Am I fine?" She asked again, and Michael sat back on his heels and shook his head. "No, but you'll live. You need to tell me what happened so I can talk--" She pushed his hands away and pulled her fingers through her hair. "No! I said no... I keep saying no, and you keep pushing. He's coming... and he's gonna come, and then... and I said no! No!" Tabatha reached for her shoulder when she started getting agitated again, and Antony reached for her hand too.

"You can talk about it later... right? If she's fine now, Michael, all you need to do is hold her?" Tabatha said gently, and his head just shook as he looked down at his hands. Payton was staring down at her thighs, and a sob slipped past her lips.

"I'm sorry, baby." She whispered at last, and he reached for her almost too quickly to pull her into his lap and hold her. "I'm sorry too, baby... shhh, Payton, my sweet baby..."

"Are the boys okay?" Payton whispered, pulling herself to Michael's side tightly. His arms slipped around her protectively. She'd taken a shower, and he'd fixed the wet bandages afterward. He didn't talk, because ultimately talking led nowhere when she was like this. He'd checked on the boys and found them sound asleep and safe.

Then he headed to bed and found her beneath the covers already. Tiredly he slipped in behind her and nearly cried out when she moved to his side almost instantly. If only she'd let him hold her like this when she was in the grip of an episode, but for some reason she always needed Dae to shake her loose from it. He couldn't understand the psychology behind it, and on nights like tonight he was insanely jealous of Dae.

"They're fine." He murmured against her damp hair, and she moved even closer. "They must have been so scared." Her leg went across his thigh to tangle her leg around his. Michael's hands soothed up and down her back as he pulled her in snug. "Leif took the boys to his bedroom. Don't think about that now, baby." Her head tilted back, and she sought his lips for a warm kiss.

"I'm sorry I was mean to you." That got her another kiss, and one hand slipped into her hair to trace her scalp languidly. "That's alright, darling. I love you anyway." Payton ran her free hand up his naked back and rested her fingers against his shoulder to pull herself closer. Somehow she couldn't get close enough to him now.

"Will you make love to me?" That soft little whisper fell against his chest, and he sighed slowly. What husband in his right mind would say no; but his perfect little creation used intimacy to bury fear and he couldn't let her do that.

"You know I won't, baby. We're not going to smooth this one over. It was serious and-"She stopped him with a heartfelt sigh and pushed away from his chest so she could see his eyes. "I need to feel you love me Michael. You... please just let me have tonight, and tomorrow we'll talk all you want. I promise." A large steady hand tangled into her hair and tipped her head up so he could kiss her.

"I love you so much, baby, and I just want to help you deal with this." Slim arms slipped around his neck as she anchored a thigh around his hip. "Just kiss me Michael?" His mouth found hers again as he rolled her in beneath him to give her what she needed.

Tabatha was fast asleep by the time they got home, and Antony carted her inside and to bed without waking her. He went back down for the wheelchair, and rather than use the elevator, tipped it onto his back and headed for the stairs. He needed to work off some steam, and running always helped. Time to hit the treadmill...

Tabatha was still out cold when he entered, and he headed for the treadmill. They'd hardly talked on the trip home, and he wondered if he'd need to tell her about his nightmare. Shrugging out of his shirt, he switched on the machine and started running...

Tabatha heard the treadmill's whine and sighed into the pillow. She so just wanted to get up and walk over there and fetch him to bed, but her stupid legs weren't cooperating at all. So she sat up instead and started pulling off her jacket irritably. The socks were next, and then she reached beneath her shirt to get rid of her bra. Some women slept with theirs; she was not one of them.

Tossing the clothing aside, she shimmied from the leggings and lay back down with a grunt. Sleep overtook her again, and she didn't even wake up when Antony slipped inside and headed for the shower again. He'd worked up quite a sweat.

She did, however, wake up when he slipped in beside her and pulled her into the curve of his body snugly. A hand reached beneath her shirt to cup a breast as his mouth pressed to her shoulder lovingly. Her hand covered his, and she fell asleep again. Antony didn't fall asleep that easily, though; with a mind full of Payton's anguish, sleep wouldn't take him. He needed the comfort of Tabatha's body, but she was sleepy and sick, and he couldn't wake her up for his own selfish reasons.

After staring into the dark for the longest time, he finally drifted off into a troubled sleep.

Michael woke up to the baby's crying and sat up groggily to look around the room. Payton was asleep on her belly, and with a sigh, he stood, slipped back into his trousers, and headed for Garret's room.

The little man was wet and hungry, and he made short work of changing him into something dry before lifting him against his shoulder to head for the kitchen. "You miss your mommy, little man?" He asked soothingly, and the baby dug his nose into the skin of his shoulder and cried hopelessly as he rubbed at one eye. "Daddy's got you... shhh darling..." The bright light of the kitchen knifed into his mind, and he blinked a few times before setting Garret into his high chair so he could fix a warm bottle.

Distracted, the baby looked around the kitchen with wide, bright blue eyes. While he waited for the bottle warmer, he found his phone on the counter and opened the messages to check them blearily. Hospital... hospital... hospital. The last message froze his breath in anger as he read it.

"Call me about my sister." Was all it read, but it could just as easily have been a six-page essay for the information it held. Checking the time, he looked down at his bare feet and took a deep breath. "Stop trying to contact Payton. Next time you do, I will call the cops." He typed quickly and set it aside. Why did he persist in this? He probably needed money again... which she always gave him just to make him go away.

The warmer chimed, and he added the formula before lifting the baby to his shoulder and carting him back upstairs to his nursery. He was hardly sleepy anymore, Michael thought as he sat down in the rocking chair and made Garret comfortable against his chest. Then he watched the little boy suck greedily and smiled.

When he'd met Payton, he'd never thought she'd be interested in him at all, and here they were with three boys and a good life most of the time. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her or the boys, but some days her mental health lay heavily on his shoulders.

When days like today happened, he realized yet again that he couldn't just let her do it alone anymore. Things had gotten steadily worse, and he needed to think of the boys first. Antony had mentioned that he knew someone competent that could assist in finding someone with more credentials than just a nanny. He needed a nurse, or a licensed caregiver, to not only look after the boys when Payton was working, but Payton as well.

Dae... For a moment he felt jealousy rear its ugly green head again, but he stomped down on it. There was a deep and profound love between them, but it wasn't romantic at all. They'd kept each other from the brink of suicide on many occasions, and sometimes he just knew how to get through to her when nothing worked. In the beginning he'd thought this co-dependency toxic but realized pretty quickly that the true strength of their friendship was something neither could do without.

Michael knew very well the depth of Payton's love for her family and him, but she needed Dae in her life too, and he couldn't be selfish about that.

Garret had fallen asleep at last, and he set him back in his crib, then switched on the baby monitor quietly and headed back to bed.

Payton was breathing deeply and evenly, and he sat back against the headboard and switched on the light. Perhaps he could get some reading done, since it was obvious that he wouldn't be sleeping tonight. Reading always switched off his mind, and he needed to stop thinking about everything for a bit; otherwise, he'd go insane himself.

Minutes later she gravitated to him, though and snuggled to his side, arm around his belly and Michael just held her as his throat constricted with sadness. Setting the book aside, he switched off the light and turned on his side to pull her tight against his chest. Her lips pressed to his bare skin, and he felt the tears as they burned his eyes. There was nothing he loved as much as his wife...

Antony had cancelled the physio for a couple of days to give her time to get over the procedure, which meant that Tabatha was asleep for most of the next day. She took a nap after breakfast, another one on the couch while reading, and missed lunch completely. Leah stayed until Antony got home, and he found her fast asleep on the couch, book forgotten on her belly and her tea cold and untouched. So he just let her sleep as he headed for the shower.

"Hey, sleeping beauty?" He murmured softly to wake her up after he'd finished making dinner. Sleepy brown eyes slipped apart lazily, and her grin made him grin. "When did you get here?" She asked and stretched after yawning hugely behind her hand.

"An hour ago. Thought I'd need to feed you before putting your sleepy ass to bed?" She giggled a bit and held out her arms for him. Antony lifted her into an affectionate embrace and pressed his mouth to hers warmly. "I've never been this tired." He carted her to the kitchen and set her down at the table with a grin.

"Michael said you'd be fatigued today. Do you want something to drink first?" Her eyes lifted to his, and she tugged both hands through her hair to wake herself up more. "Juice is fine. How was your day?" Broad shoulders shrugged beneath the light vest as he took down glasses and found the juice in the fridge. "Busy... and hard. I need to bulk up, and I'm usually good at that, but after the accident I had some back injuries, so I can't just go full throttle like I'm used to. It's problematic and irritating." Large eyes found his, and his grin tried to set her at ease.

"Why won't you tell me what injuries you really had?" Wide shoulders shrugged again as he found plates and set out the rice and chicken dish Leah had started, and he'd finished up. "I don't like talking about that." It was his honest answer, but this time she needed to know and pushed a bit.

"I know you don't, but please, you need to tell me. All you told me was that you went for the curve in the road and... nothing. What happened when you woke up? Were you very badly hurt?" Antony sat down and reached for the spoon when words failed him. They didn't have very many secrets between them, so he was just going to tell her and be done with it.

"I broke my back, but that was fixed while I was still in the coma; dislocated a hip and both shoulders, broke a leg, literally. The coma was induced since I had some bleeding on the brain and fluid buildup. I was bruised black and blue, and... after I had a panic attack when I woke up, Michael sedated me again. Payton took care of me and..." His voice drifted off, and Tabatha reached across for his hand.

"Was it very bad when you woke up?" Why did she want to know that? "No... I just had this near-overwhelming compulsion to find you and to ask for forgiveness... and to get rid of Jessa. It seemed extremely important to make sure that part of my life was over. It took me a month to recuperate, and I stayed with Payton. I hired a private investigator and found you. I'm big and solid, and I was pretty healthy, so I healed easily, and that's all of it. Oh, and I also got this pretty cool scar?" He indicated the scar that cut across the vulnerable hollow of his throat, and her chuckle made him laugh softly.

"See... that wasn't so hard now, was it?" Sea blue eyes rested on his plate for a moment, and then he picked up his fork with a shake of his head. "No... and yes. I don't like to think about the reason for doing that in the first place. It's still a very raw thing, and, honestly, I don't know what to do with it. To set you at ease though, Tabby, that darkness is no longer a part of my life. I'm perfectly content with you. Tomorrow you start house hunting and planning the wedding. Alright?" Tabatha chewed on a piece of chicken and then nodded quickly in affirmation.

"In the Between I never questioned anything that happened, and I forget that I'm allowed to know things now. I want to know about everything that hurt you so I can keep it from happening again. You realize that if you hadn't driven over that cliff, we'd never have met? I never questioned why I was in that space, Antony. There had to be a reason... and there you were. Before we get married, these are things we need to talk about." Antony was toying with his fork and then set it down with a sigh because what she was saying made real and true sense. So maybe it was time he came clean?

"I... was so disgusted with myself that I couldn't even look at myself in a mirror. I felt... rusted and weathered like a worn-out axe. The world kept forcing me to hack and hack at the little sanity I had left, and sometimes it was such an overwhelming thing that I just wanted to slit my own throat so I could have peace." Tabatha's dark eyes widened, and she reached for his hand again, but he retreated from her touch and folded his arms across his chest. She let him be and just listened.

"I was with Jessa... and like I told you, her fetish was violence. As long as I tied her up and... forced myself down her throat until she choked, she was happy. Afterward I went for a drive to get rid of all the disgust it filled me with. I had an open bottle of Jack Daniels, and I was like the proverbial bat out of hell. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, there was a dog and that split second of utter peace as I stared death in the face was perfect... then there was darkness and... you." He reached for his glass and took a deep swallow before setting it down carefully and avoiding her gaze.

"My life, my personal life, up until that point was utter sin and chaos. From my parents force-feeding me, among other things, to the prostitution, the starving... the modelling and indulging in anything that lifted the wretchedness. My life was a horror. Then I woke up in the Between, and Tabby and you took my hand. There's nothing more to me than what you know, but God gave me another chance, and I'm taking it." Tears wet her cheeks, and when he finally looked up to meet her gaze, she wiped at them with the heel of her hand awkwardly and stifled a sob.

"Why the tears, sweetheart?" The anguish was there in his voice, and she wiped at her eyes again. "Because I wish I could take all the hurt away and fill you up with everything that you should have had." Shaky hands tugged through her hair again after wiping at her eyes, and then she just looked at him, and sadness gripped her heart. "Don't cry about that, please?" He murmured, but another sob hitched her chest, and she wiped at her eyes again. "I have to, because nobody else did."

A soft gasp burned in his chest, and he stood in a fluid movement and reached for her. Dangling in his arms, she just held him as tightly as she possibly could and cried the tears that no one ever did. Antony was drawn into her grief, and the floodgates he'd kept shut so vigorously gushed open, releasing the pain he'd locked away.

Tears filled his own eyes as his legs buckled, and he sagged back onto a chair and encased her in a grip so tight she lost her breath for a moment. Great shoulders shook beneath her arms as the emotion consumed him, and her fingers slipped into his hair to comfort him. "It's okay, honey... oh, Antony, I won't let anyone hurt you ever again. I promise... I do." Tabatha's voice was fervent against his cheek, and he captured her mouth with an intensity that scared him.

"I n-nneed--" He stammered, but she was already nodding, and he stood a bit unsteadily to head for the bedroom. They undressed each other reverently, and Antony stamped down on the driving need; he could hurt her easily when his body took over like this... and he'd rather die than bruise her perfect skin. His hands gentled when he rolled her in beneath him and lifted a thigh across his hip to thrust into the welcoming warmth of her.

Tabatha reached up to press her lips to the scar across his throat and slipped her arms beneath his to caress down his back. The entire tall coil of his body was bowstring tight as he strove to keep his movements steady. An orgasm tightened her body around his, and she cried out when he finally let himself thrust deep and hard a few times to push him over. The cry as he came hard and fast echoed hers, and his arms gave as he sagged onto her spent and breathing hoarsely.

When he finally dropped to her side, she reached around his neck and slanted her mouth across his for a long, lazy kiss that drew his soul from him even further. Pushing herself higher, though she pressed his cheek to her breast and slipped her fingers through his hair, she knew what he needed now. Long arms and legs twined around her as he pulled himself in as close as he could. "I love you." He whispered brokenly as trembling lips sought out her nipple, tongue swirling beneath the soft underside and then sucking deeply.

The comfort of the nursing action soothed across his pain, and gradually it lessened, and he felt himself relax. Soft hands caressed through his hair and across his shoulders, and she cupped his cheek to urge him on. The quiet release of the tensed-up emotion uncoiled from around his body, and his arms softened as a sigh of pleasure filled his chest, and he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Deep in the night, Tabatha woke to his mouth around her breast, and she pulled him in close to soothe his fears away...

Payton woke to Michael showering and checked on the boys to find them still asleep. That wasn't going to last though, and being Saturday, she let them sleep in and headed downstairs to start on coffee. It wasn't even six o'clock yet, and she sighed at her body's built-in clock. It obviously didn't care that it was Saturday.

For a long moment, she stood staring from the large picture window at the garden beyond. Everything had been going so well, and now this again. She remembered very little of the episode, except that she'd locked herself in the bathroom, but it was all a blur after she made that first cut. Leaning forward, she slipped her hands up the inside of her aching thighs and sighed painfully.

She could vaguely remember Dae shaking her and... Michael, his deep jade eyes full of tears and pain. There was very little in the world she loved as much as him, and the disgust she felt at herself for letting him see her like that forced the bile up into her throat. Sometimes though she needed him to stop being a doctor and just be her husband, but it was so hard for him to differentiate between the two. It was who he was... but she hated when he treated her like a patient.

"You're up early?" Michael's soft voice soothed her dark thoughts, and she turned to offer him a smile. "Are you heading to the hospital?" He lifted a brow at her and moved around the counter to pull her into a warm embrace. Payton anchored herself to his chest and inhaled the clean aroma of him. Sometimes he smelled like a hospital, but after a shower he had this scent that just drove her insane. She dug her nose into his chest and inhaled deeply.

"I'm not going in until Tuesday at least. Took a few days off to spend with you." Her blond head tilted back, and her frown was suspicious as her eyes narrowed. "Because of last night?" He shook his head. "No... and yes. I don't spend enough time with you, and... I miss you. So this morning we're dropping the boys off at my mother's house for a visit. She's keeping them overnight so we have a date night... thing. Are you okay with that?" Her nose went back into his chest, and she nodded silently as his capable arms tightened.

"Lovely. Give us a kiss?" Her head tilted back again and his mouth pressed to hers warmly. "Why do you even put up with all this?" She breathed against his mouth, and he kissed her again before hugging deeply. "Well, I love you... obviously; and I crave the chaos you bring to the cool, controlled world I have to survive in. Without you to liven up my soul, sweetheart... what would I be?" A strong, steady hand cupped the back of her head and lifted her lips back to his.

"You go get showered and ready, and I'll fix breakfast before getting the boys up." They kissed again, and she moved from his arms to head for the stairs. "I love you too, baby." She smiled, turning back and his grin made her sigh.

In tights and a pretty top Payton wriggled her feet into a pair of sandals and headed downstairs. Garret was up when she looked in on him, and she changed and dressed him quickly. His smile when he saw her made her laugh softly, and she hugged and kissed him happily, then carted him downstairs.

Both older boys were up and laughing at something Michael was saying when she entered, and for a moment she just watched. Her throat closed up, though, when Pace looked around and noticed her first. He jumped from the chair and rounded the counter with a smile to hug her tightly. Payton kissed his dark curls and hugged tight for a moment. Garret was having none of that, though and squirmed in her arms.

Leif was there to settle him in his high chair, and Payton pulled him into an embrace afterward. "I'm sorry for yesterday, Leif." She whispered with a hitch in her voice, and he just hugged tight and looked up at her. "It's okay, Mom. Dad explained. It's okay." She hugged him again and then ruffled his hair as he headed back to the counter and the pancakes Michael was dishing up.

Her mom brain took over, though and she fed Garret while listening to the boys chatter about all sorts of things. The baby was happy with a bottle in the playpen, and she headed back upstairs with the boys to pack up their overnight bags.

"Can I tag along to the training today?" Tabatha asked softly, and Antony turned with a lifted brow. He was making coffee while she cut up fruit for the smoothie she liked in the mornings. He was munching on his breakfast without really paying attention to what he was eating. The diet regime was strict and designed to have him gain bulk quickly so he could transform it into muscle.

There was nothing very healthy about it, but at least it didn't involve eggs, so he was fine. There was a bunch of stuff he didn't eat, and eggs were at the top of the list. If you hid them in a quiche or in bread or something and he didn't know about them or couldn't taste them, he'd eat it, though.

"Why would you want to spend the entire morning in a sweaty gym watching me torture myself?" Tabatha giggled softly and lifted a brow at him. "Because I get to watch you get all sweaty and... sexy. I can already feel myself being bored today." That got her a grin, and his shrug said he'd indulge her boredom for today.

"If you insist. We'll have Leah tag along to bring you back when I head to the studio." Her brows both arched this time as her lips parted in a small o of excitement. "You wanna go to that too?" This time he could see the excitement fill her smile, and again he just nodded indulgently. He'd give her anything she wanted if she smiled at him like that some more.

"Can I go to that? I just want to see what you do. You already know I'm a huge fan of your work, Antony." That got her a small grin, and he turned to finish up the coffee. "Flattery will get you anywhere, sweetheart. It's a lot of talking and bound to be boring as hell. We're going over my... other scenes." Tabatha stifled a giggle at the look on his face when he set the mugs down and leaned forward to touch his hand.

"You mean love scenes?" Antony nodded slowly and stuffed a piece of strawberry into his mouth. "Yes... I'm not very into love scenes, but they're there, so... do you mind that?" Dark eyes found his, and she licked her dry lips slowly.

"It's all very technical and rehearsed; so it's not really intimate, but I'm gonna have to be all Alpha male pushing her up against a wall and..." The deep baritone of his voice drifted off, and Tabatha leaned back in the chair to peruse him.

"Not like you haven't done scenes like that before." She reminded him, and his shrug was noncommittal. "Yeah... but back then I wasn't in a committed relationship with the woman of my dreams, was I? It makes all the difference. So I called the meeting to try and talk my way around all that a bit." He'd do that, Tabatha thought with a sigh, because he felt guilty.

"Far be it from me to push you into anything you're not comfortable with, but according to the script, those are pivotal moments for your character." His soft sea blue eyes lifted to hers, and his regard was serious. "I know they are. I just feel that it doesn't need full nudity to have it done. In the original novel he wasn't naked either; and for the other two scenes where a bed is involved, they also don't need to film the entire act. We can do the first initial kiss and whatever, and it can cut from there to the next scene. I just feel that I don't need to sell my body to have it done right. Still wanna tag along?" Tabatha nodded slowly, and he stood to mix her smoothie.

"You think they'll go for it?" The slight tremor in her voice drew his gaze to her as he decanted the mix into a tall glass and handed it over. "I'll make them see. I'm not without leverage, honey. My contract was a bit different this time, and they signed me anyway." Now she'd want to know how different, he thought, and wasn't disappointed when she asked.

"Nudity... for one. Never had a problem with it, but that's changed since I woke up from the coma. I have a neat little clause that says I can choose when and what I wanna do. No profanity against God either. Not even while acting will I do that again... the fear is too real. That's mostly it... oh, and nothing same-sex; not even a hint at it. They haggled like crazy, but I stood my ground, and they signed. So today I'm gonna have to make them see what I want." Her slim hands reached across the table to slip across his wrist, and the shy grin made her heart just melt.

"I'm so proud of you, Antony. If you'd feel better going alone, I'd understand." Sensual lips parted, and he leaned closer to pin her with a serious gaze. "I'd like to have you there if you really feel like going. Maybe you'd sway the opinion my way." Laughter filled the small kitchen.

"Oof..." Tabatha sighed as she watched the trainer put Antony through his paces. He was lifting weights, and the muscles across his back were bunching and bulging... and the sweat glistened on his copper skin. Her book lay forgotten in her lap, and she wasn't even sure where Leah had gone off to. She was so engrossed in watching that tall, perfect body move that she didn't even notice anyone sit down by her side.

"Is he yours?" A female voice asked, and Tabatha shook herself from her reverie. "Yes, he is." She grinned and found big blue eyes smiling at her. White blonde hair was tied in a messy bun, and she was wearing gym clothes. "So you're his girlfriend, right?" This time she frowned and reached for the slim hand as the other girl reached up.

"Why do you need to know?" She asked instead, and the beautiful blonde tilted her head a bit. "I'm Amberlynn Brice... the love interest?" Ah, Tabatha thought and bit down on her lip. "I'm Tabatha Mulvaney." Why on earth wouldn't Antony want to have an intimate scene with this stunning girl! She had that perfect, blonde, angelic, cherubic look that you couldn't look away from at all.

"I was done early and thought I'd wait for him. I mean, who wouldn't want to watch all that, right?" Tabatha had to agree, of course and she touched a hand to her dark hair. "I keep telling him he's pretty, but he's shy." Amberlynn touched the wheel of her chair and lifted a perfectly sculpted brow in question.

"Why the wheelchair if you don't mind me asking?" That was a tricky question, and she shifted a bit and then cleared her throat. "Recuperating from brain cancer. I... lost a bit of mobility, but we're working on getting it back. I'm not going to be in here for much longer. Promised him I'd walk him down the red carpet when this movie opens." The smile was genuine and Tabatha looked back to find Antony wiping himself down with a towel before shaking hands with his trainer. Then he shrugged back into his vest and headed over to them.

"You've met Amberlynn, I see." He grinned and hunched to press a kiss to her lips. "She was nice enough to introduce herself." Antony reached for the other girl's hand and smiled quickly before getting to his feet.

Amberlynn moved to her feet as well, and Tabatha sighed at the height difference. She was a petite little thing, but, and this was important, she was built like a goddess. All voluptuous hips and breasts. Lots of breasts...

"I'll see you over at the studio, Dade. Nice to meet you, Tabatha." With that she jogged away, and they both watched her go. "Now do you see my ambivalence to do sex scenes?" She just shrugged, and he hunched again. One hand traced her thigh, and she reached for his cheek. "Scared you'll like it?" She teased, and his gaze was disgusted as he pulled away from her hand. "Tabby!" He chided, and she couldn't help just laughing.

"I'm joking, honey. I'm just joking... hey?" His eyes found hers again, and she leaned forward to press her mouth to his warmly. "I happen to be very sure that you're all mine, and I'm not even worried that you might like her breasts more than mine... because mine are real and hers aren't." His grin was slow as his mouth found hers again. "I do love the boobs."

Leah joined them a minute later and blushed a bit as another trainer waved at her. "I got his number." She chuckled, and Tabatha clapped a hand across her mouth. "Told him I needed me a trainer, but apparently I don't need a trainer as much as I need dinner." They shared a soft chuckle as Antony bent to get his bag so they could get to the studio.

Tabatha watched him negotiate the terms of the nudity with the director and producer, and Amberlynn quietly. Leah wasn't allowed in, and Antony had given her the rest of the day off. That left her all alone, and for the longest time, she had no idea what to do with her hands.

So she found her book and pretended to read again; it was no good, though, because her inherent curiosity got the better of her as always. She listened in rapt fascination as Dade Holden took over the persona and bulldozed his way over everyone.

Oof... she thought again and thought he was sure getting himself some kind of loving that night. This was yet another facet of his character that she so admired. This was the actor who immersed himself so completely in a role that you couldn't tell where he began and the character ended.

"Amberlynn prefers the original script." Her manager injected into the conversation and Antony tilted his head at her. "Of course she does. I don't care if she's filmed naked. The point of this conversation is setting it up so I'm comfortable with it. I'm sorry, sweetie, but you're not nearly big enough to swing your tits around. I'm the headliner here, and I'm not interested in nudity. I can rape you just as well while wearing trousers." Tabatha's mouth dropped open as her eyes moved back down to her book.

"That's pretty fucking offensive Dade." She tossed back and he just shrugged. "Just stating the facts, Amberlynn." The director leaned in to diffuse the situation and Dade rested back in his chair and perused him with lazy blue eyes.

"We'll set up the scenes the way you prefer Dade. We knew how you felt coming into this... so we'll send over the revised parts sometime next week. I'm glad you called this meeting-" The director's voice droned on and he lost himself in the conversation that followed.

He didn't like Amberlynn, but he wasn't supposed to like her. He could work that into his character very easily, and the antagonism he felt would transfer to the screen perfectly. His analytical mind ticked over what he needed to achieve and by the end of the meeting they'd settled on a course that'd work for them both.

"Is there anything else that you need from us Dade?" The producer asked this time and he smiled. It was pretty rare that you saw the producer at all for meetings like this; he had no idea what she was doing here. "No. You've addressed my concerns and I'm thankful for that." Her dark eyes lifted in a smile and he reached across to shake the woman's hand.

She was an elderly woman of probably sixty with a severe bob and dark intelligent eyes. "We are glad to have you on this project, Dade. This part was written with you in mind and I'm sure you will not disappoint. I am however concerned that your personal life might interfere?" She nodded over at Tabatha whose mouth dropped open again.

"My personal life is just that, Mrs. Arlington; personal. I'm gonna do my best, as I always do... and we'll just keep her out of your concern. Tabatha is most of the reason why my focus changed, and I wanted to introduce her to a bit of my world." Wow, Tabatha thought as her eyes widened, he was pretty serious about her after all.

"I knew she'd be a problem." Amberlynn breathed, indicating Tabatha with a flick of her wrist. Antony's intent gaze rested on her for a thoughtful moment before he smiled sweetly and folded his long arms across his chest. "I'm an actor, which means I act. I'm pretty fucking good at putting on a different personality."

He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders as his head tilted a bit in contemplation. "This means when the time comes and I need to shove you up against a wall... it will be believable. I will leave my private life at the door, and I suggest you do the same. That's why she hired me, and why he's directing me. You do your bit and I'll do mine and my private life will stay private." He'd assumed the character, Tabatha thought; even the pitch of his voice had dropped an octave. Fuck, she'd have liked to see his eyes just then.

Before Amberlynn could speak up though her manager stood to thank the director quickly and Antony unfolded from the chair and leaned across to shake their hands. "Thank you for believing in me. I cannot wait to start shooting. This is a dream role for me." Then they were leaving, and she was quiet all the way out to the car.

"I told you it'd be boring." He chided when they headed home and she turned in her seat and pinned him with a serious gaze. "It was hardly boring Antony. I do think though that Amberlynn is just a bit in love with you." Broad shoulders shrugged. "Good. I can use that." She wasn't done though and cleared her throat. "Why the serious dislike for her though?" Now how had he known she'd want to know that?

"She's a B grade actress who needs to make a mark; hence the need for nudity. She's done two action movies and thinks she's this hot shot up and coming star who can demand anything. I have three Oscar nominations and two wins; not to mention all the other awards I've won. Besides that she's an entitled little millennial who wants to do all her own stunts and kick ass and be all girls do it better." He took a steady breath.

"I'm the biggest thing in that movie and she's not gonna steal my show. I can out act her in my sleep." Fuck, Tabatha thought and slipped a hand across his thigh. "You just go right on ahead baby and do Dade Holden. I'm gonna be the one watching, eating popcorn and getting all hot and bothered." Antony burst into laughter and she joined in after a moment.

"Hot and bothered?" He chuckled, and she nodded definitely. "Sometimes I don't think you realize the degree of obsessed I was with you. Being in that world with you today had my little fangirl heart beating like crazy." Her happy giggle made him grin. "Really though? I'm a good actor; I know that. But a fangirl? There are better actors out there than me."

Tabatha sighed slowly and patted his thigh. "Yes, yes... but you're the one that always left me wondering who you really were. I'd watch you and wonder if any of the characters you portrayed were anything like the real you. Some actors are the same actor in every role they play, like Jason Momoa. Man is perfectly beautiful and big and... a good actor, but so is Henry Cavill, and he's never the same character twice. That's what you're like, and I love that." Jason Momoa, Antony thought and stifled a smile.

"Both of them are very nice. We shared a table at the Oscars, and although they're polar opposites, they're really funny and interesting. No egos at all; both were just so humble. Jason will laugh at anything." Tabatha sighed slowly and watched as he took the turn into the parking garage opposite his loft.

Of course he knew them both, she thought and blushed bright red when she realized that in the not-so-distant future she might actually get to meet them. Oh wow...

Antony thought her a bit too quiet as he pushed her into the elevator, and they headed upstairs. Once inside, she headed for the bathroom, and he smiled at the fact that she'd built up enough arm muscle to push herself around. Pretty soon she'd be walking again, and he couldn't wait to watch her walk down the aisle.

The doorbell rang, and he jumped to open it, wondering who on earth it could be this late on a Saturday. Payton stepped into his embrace, and he smiled at Michael as he wove them inside. "Hey there, me fellow me lass. Tabatha, it's Payton and Michael!" He called to the bedroom, and she appeared a moment later wearing a broad smile that faltered a bit after a moment.

Payton moved to her side quickly and bent over to hug her warmly. Tabatha hugged back and tried not to look directly into her sky-blue eyes.

"I'm sorry for showing up like this, but we had the day off from work, and the kids and Payton wanted to come and thank you for the other night." Michael explained, and they watched Payton as she turned to Antony and tried a brave smile. "I'm sorry I... freaked out like--" Tabatha shrieked when a shadow dislodged itself from the petite blonde and scuttled across the floor and in beneath the couch.

"What's wrong?" Antony's voice was whiplash loud in the sudden quiet, and Tabatha lifted her feet onto the chair and slipped her arms around her knees as fear curdled in her belly. "Tabatha?" He asked again and hunched by her side worriedly. Suddenly she was very pale and shaking in fear. Michael stepped closer too and touched her knees. "Please don't touch me Michael." She entreated and cupped her hands over her eyes.

"It's underneath the couch... But don't look at it, Antony. If you look at it, it'll stay..." The husky whisper doused Antony in ice water, and he looked up at Payton. She was standing there with an odd look on her pale face. "What's underneath the couch? Why did you call him Antony?" Michael asked seriously and reached for Tabatha's hand.

"You're scaring us, sweetheart. Has this happened before?" He asked over at Antony, who shrugged. Neither of them expected Tabatha to shriek again, and she nearly toppled herself from the chair as she lunged for Antony's arms. He lifted her up against him and finally noticed what she had. There was something behind Payton. A dark sort of aura that outlined her tiny, shivering body.

"Pay..." Antony breathed and took a step away from her. "What's going on, Dae?" Michael stood quickly, intent on getting to the bottom of it, and reached for his wife. She went into his arms easily and cleared her throat.

"Honey, are you sick? Do you feel sick at all?" Antony asked again, and Michael's head snapped up so he could meet the taller man's gaze. "Of course she's not sick. What's all this about?" His voice had risen in pitch as anger filled his chest. "There's a catcher behind her." Tabatha managed in a pinched voice and urged Antony to set her back down in the chair.

"What the fuck is a catcher!" Michael cried, and Antony held out a conciliatory hand. "And what the fuck makes you think she's sick!" Tabatha tugged her shaking hands through her hair and stifled the sobs that threatened to consume her. She couldn't cry now; she'd cry later. Right now she had to make them see that something was very wrong!

"The Between... we were in the Between--" She began, and Antony hunched again so he could wrap a hand around hers. "We need to tell her? She needs to know, or they'll take her, Antony." Payton was still wrapped to her husband's side and she could feel him get ready to go all Michael Peterson on them.

"Tell me what? Michael, stop and let's just listen first, alright?" She asked quietly and stepped from his arms. Michael took a breath to speak and then looked at his sweet little wife and didn't. Whatever this was had upset Tabatha, and Dae seemed to know exactly why. So he decided to let them explain, and then he'd go ballistic!

"Let's sit down. I'll make the coffee." Antony sighed, and they followed him to the kitchen. Tabatha wheeled herself in a few moments later after composing herself and avoided looking at the little blonde at all.

"I tried to commit suicide. I drove over that rail fully aware that I was going to die. I wanted to die, Payton. There was darkness and then a flash of white light, and I was in a space between life and death. That's where I met Tabatha... on the black sand beneath a light bulb sun. I've never even been to Mexico, Michael." They told the story together, and Michael finally stood and regarded them both as if they were lunatics!

"Are you insane?" He exploded, and Antony held up a hand. "I woke up in the hospital, and I knew I had to find her. I knew her name and where she was from... and do you remember that she knew me as Antony the moment her eyes opened and she could talk? She knew my real name... and she kept me safe when the catchers came. Locked in her room, quiet and safe... we listened to it hammer on the door, and finally it left to find someone else. If not for Tabby, I'd be in hell. I've seen them here too... and sometimes they whisper to me. My real name is Antony Greatfield; I'm from San Francisco. I ran away from home when I was fourteen and changed myself into Dade Holden." Tabatha leaned forward and took his hand.

"The voice in your head that tells you to cut into your skin, or take that fatal overdose... or drive over a cliff. The voice that told me I needed to cut through the alley... that's them. I took his hand on the black sand, and I knew I had to make him see, because if he woke up, he'd need to repent. I didn't want to see him in the fire... and being what they are, I knew I'd see him there every day, and it would be my fault." Antony frowned over at her, and she just shook her head slowly.

"I made sure to scare everyone who came through for just that reason. Sometimes they were more lucid, and I knew I had a chance to make them see, but girls like Harmony... were so far gone over the edge of dementia that they just couldn't comprehend what I knew I had to warn them about. Nothing I told or showed you, Antony, was false. You saw it yourself... you felt it and heard it." She cleared her throat and met Michael's eyes.

"You don't believe us. I know you don't... I wouldn't believe us either. I was in that vegetative state for a year and Antony didn't know I even existed. How do you explain any of this? His reaction when he woke up? Leaving everything and repenting... me? Looking for a girl he'd never met in real life? I worked in a library in Brooklyn all my life. I have no online presence, and I've never been to any of his movie premieres. He lived in a completely different sphere; how could he have known me? You know him better than anyone. Payton... do you think he'd make up something like this? Ask me anything...?" Payton cleared her throat and sat forward. Michael was still staring down at his hands, trying to come up with a plausible explanation.

"What is he scared of?" Tabatha let out a small sigh and met his blue gaze. Antony stood at this and tugged a hand through his hair angrily. "Why that Payton?" He demanded, and Tabatha held up a hand for him quickly to calm him down. "Because I don't think you know who you are. You've been playing all these roles all your life. You're a chameleon... and if she knows the real you, I'd know, because I was there when you created Dade Holden. I never knew your real name, but I was there when you crafted this one." Broad shoulders sagged, and he leaned back against the counter to fold his arms across his chest.

"He was alone under the bed, but even then he wanted Jesus to be there with him, so he prayed that his mother wouldn't be able to reach him and his father wouldn't find him. He's afraid of being alone, completely lost and alone. I know he doesn't eat eggs because his mother force-fed him. I... cannot explain how this happened, but I know why. We needed each other; he needed me to hold him, and I needed him. It's as simple as that." Antony took up a chair again and lifted a brow at his best friend in question.

"You told her about that?" Payton's voice was very small and insecure, and Antony nodded. "I... it's all true. I knew if I was gonna keep something of myself alive, I needed to pray. I don't wanna be alone, and for a lot of years I was. Even when I had you... and whatever else, I never had what I needed. Jessa was the means to an end that I needed to further my career. So I kept looking for something and hoping for it. I cursed God and then prayed again. He put me there to wake me up for real... and I found her. I've never been this version of me, and she goes on about it. I'm Antony Greatfield now. I'm me. This is not an act." Tabatha reached for his hand, and he watched her fingers shiver.

"This is me. PTSD and depression and paranoia and... eggs and starvation. Killing my parents in self-defense. I gave it all over to Him, and it's less. I feel lighter and... it's as if I can reach down deep inside and tell that little boy he's fine now. I'm not scared... at all. I don't need to be Dade Holden with his grand illusions of grandeur when I'm here with Tabby. I put a stop to the nudity and sex in the movie, the slander and the same-sex crap. From here on out I'm giving them me wrapped in a bit of Dade, because he's the actor." Tabatha reached for his hand and felt him shiver.

"Is that the sin? Killing your parents?" Antony nodded and ran a hand over his face. "I... I came home from school one day just before I turned fourteen. I found my mother in the kitchen, and I remember her putting down a big plate of scrambled eggs. She pointed at it and said, Eat. I just looked at it and thought I couldn't do it. So for the first time in my life, I said no. She started yelling at me, and I went up to my bedroom and locked the door. I sat there all afternoon... waiting." He took a deep breath and felt the old emotion of it burn in his gut.

"My dad's truck pulled up, and I knew I was dead. He'd kill me. I was skinny but tall for my age, and I had a baseball bat hidden beneath my bed under a floorboard. So I got it and waited. There was shouting, and I could hear him stomp up the hallway, and he started hammering on the door. Finally he broke it down, wrestled the bat from me and... beat me so bad I couldn't move. Finally I just stayed down." Tabatha was crying softly, and so was Payton. Michael's eyes were filled with horror, though it reflected the look in his own eyes.

"So that night I crept into their room, found the shotgun he kept in the closet... and he woke up as I was loading it. The sound must have woken him. He came at me, and I pulled the trigger as a reaction more than anything else. I shot him in the chest, but he kept coming and I pulled the trigger again. It veered off and hit my mother in the head; she was dead instantly. I... I remember that he looked demonic when he charged me and... I swung the butt of the shotgun, hit him against the side of his head, and snapped his neck. Then I walked to the neighbor's house and asked them to call the cops. The cops took one look at me, then at the house, found all the child porn, and... The judge threw out the case. That's when I got on a bus to New York... and created Dade Holden. It sounded like a cool name." Payton let out a slow breath and looked over at Michael.

Tabatha was still crying, and he reached over and took her hands in his. "I took all the emotions that went along with that, shoved them in a box, and buried them. Then you took me to the wall, and I saw the faces... and I couldn't help wondering if they were there too. The catcher came for me that night; I'm sure of it, because nothing after I turned fourteen was good. I had no remorse, and I filled my soul with ice so I wouldn't have to feel. I remember it whispering that first night... Open the door, Tony, it's Mom. And I thought that's fitting. My mother is a demon... and my father is the devil. All this is true, Payton. It's all... real. Okay, now it's someone else's turn. That was the woeful tale of Antony Greatfield." Payton moved to hug him first and then sat down beside her husband again.

He was looking at her strangely, and she wasn't sure what was going on behind his deep green eyes. "What are you afraid of, darling?" He asked finally, and her jaw slipped apart. "You know my fears." His dark head shook. "No, I don't because you go dark and quiet and leave me outside. Be as honest as Dae was?" A sob hitched her chest, and Antony leaned over to grasp her other hand. For a long moment he thought she might run, and then her eyes drifted to Tabatha's, and she frowned.

"What do you think?" Slim shoulders shrugged, and she took a deep breath before letting it go slowly. "What about your brother, except for the rape and beatings? Do you fear? I understand that they were horrific for anyone, much less a young girl, but what forced you into the bathroom? What forced you to leave your children alone on the other side of the door?" Payton's mouth snapped shut, and Michael started to speak, but she captured his hand in both of hers to still his reply.

"I'm afraid I might hurt them... and when I didn't have them, I was afraid that I might hurt Michael. It goes dark and violent and... and... it's not me anymore. It's her screaming and begging and sobbing. I wanted to find a knife and slit his throat, and when an episode happens, I'm always scared I'm not gonna know who I'm killing. It's a visceral type of rage... how do I get rid of it?" The small question was as hopeless as her answer was, and Michael couldn't help but stifle his gasping sob.

"I've been to therapy and shock therapy, and... sometimes he'd ask for money, and I'd give it to him. Yesterday his face when he raped me... The insane pleasure on his mouth as his hand choked around me throat was too much. The memory was just there, and I felt it consume me and just put myself away." Real tears were coursing down Michael's cheeks by now, and both hands lifted to cover his eyes as sorrow filled his heart.

"Is that why you won't let me touch you, because... but... you're always angry at me darling, afterwards? Is that why? Because I can't protect you?" Payton sighed and looked down at her palms where they rested on the table.

"You can't protect me from me baby... I need to be able to do that myself. I'm angry at you because you're always so concerned about me, and I do this to myself! I cut myself! I hurt and frighten the kids and everyone, and then you're just always so alarmed and worried! Why won't you just get angry at me? Then I calm down, and I can't get close enough to you... because if I feel you all around me and inside me and permeating me then there's no room for anything else."

That was a very intimate detail, Tabatha thought, and she found Antony's eyes on his hands as he tried to make sense of all this.

"I don't know how to help you, baby. I want to just seal up all the cracks and make you whole... but you fight me so vehemently. What do you need me to do?" Payton leaned across and touched his hand again, but he withdrew. He couldn't let her touch him and make all of this better. Today she was talking.

"I just need you to love me. Like, Dae needs Tabby to just love him... and that's all I need." Michael sat forward quickly and pinned her with a serious gaze. "I do love you. I adore you, darling; I worship you. I do everything I can to make life easier for you... to make you feel safe and protected. The nanny, the cleaning staff... the driver. The security. I work thirty-hour shifts to pay for everything to make you feel loved... and when I'm home, I--" His voice stopped at the look on her face.

"I don't deserve you, and you don't deserve any of this. How do I get rid of this thing, Tabby?" Tabatha wiped at her cheeks and cleared her throat before she sat forward and held out her hand. "You let go of the monster and embrace God. You pray and beg and scream your repentance. You cry until you're empty of you and let God fill you up... you let His grace fill you up. Then you close the door and obey the rules. You don't interact with the demon; you don't look at it, you don't acknowledge it when it whispers, and you don't listen to the lies. Close your eyes and pray..." Payton's azure eyes found Antony, and his nod was serious.

"She's right. I don't assume to be some kind of evangelist just because I experienced all this, but it worked for me. If you send it away, it can't hurt you... I just told it to leave in Jesus name with His redeeming blood. It was gone..." Tears contorted her pretty face, and Michael held open his arms for her. She almost fell into his embrace and held on as he pulled her across his lap so he could hold her very tightly.

"I do want that so much!" She sobbed into his shoulder, and Antony reached out to soothe a hand down her heaving back. "Our Father Who art in Heaven--" Tabatha began, and Antony picked up the prayer with her. Michael joined in as well, and after a moment, Payton managed to join her voice with theirs.

Tears convulsed her body until she felt raw and empty of all the pain. Then she sat back and met her husband's tear-filled green eyes. "I feel better." She murmured huskily, and then laughter erupted from her chest. "I feel so much better." They joined in her laughter, and Michael pulled her into an embrace again as Antony stood to fix another pot of coffee.

"Why do you think you were there, Tabby?" Michael asked as they sat around the table much later that evening eating takeout from white carton boxes. A dumpling stopped halfway to her mouth, and she dropped it to meet his intent gaze.

"Penance I think. I lived a secluded life... had no friends, and I didn't even know the cleaning lady's name at the library where I worked for ten, fifteen years. People would come in, and I'd watch them get the books and... leave. The only one I had a connection with was my father, and that's so sad. He spent his whole life just missing my mother. Tabby girl... Fetch your old Da a tea, mouse. Cancer consumed him... and towards the end he was in so much pain that one night I just--" She stopped instantly, and her eyes flew to Antony's.

"You gave him morphine?" Michael asked softly, and tears spilled onto her cheeks. "He... just smiled at me and I sang to him; Siúil A Rún... and then he was gone, and I went to work a week later. I killed my father... the only real person in my life." A resounding sigh fell from Antony's chest, and he reached over for her cheeks.

"That's why you were there." Tabatha nodded slowly and gripped his wrists so she could lower his hands to the table. "I... don't know. I just felt such a need to help them be safe. Keep your eyes closed classes and keys in my pocket, and talking. It was time that I was supposed to spend with my Da when he was sick, but I was at work because I needed to pay the medical bills and the apartment and... medicine. Penance, I was there to do my penance. I got hit in the head three weeks after Da died and... woke up screaming, and then there you were." Her voice hitched, and she averted her gaze from his.

"At first I thought, Fuck the Between for doing this to me! You were so beautiful and tall and... man, it was lovely just being able to look at someone that wasn't so old and vacant. I felt bad, but then you had to wear that stupid pink frilly shirt and I hadn't laughed in centuries. It felt like centuries... then you were gone, and I had to go back to looking at all those vacant faces again. I nearly just let the wall take me. Do you remember Charles from Vancouver?" Antony nodded slowly and smiled at the memory of the old man.

"He stuck to me like glue... and then one morning he said, it's time to go, Tabatha Twitched." Tears welled into her dark eyes, and she wiped at them with the back of her wrist. "I tried looking for him, but how do you find one old soul when you don't even know his real name? I doubt he was even from Vancouver... poor old thing." Payton reached over for her hand. Tabatha no longer felt that she needed to avoid her touch.

"I still find it extraordinary that no one noticed you had brain cancer, sweetheart. State-run facilities like that really need more funding for better equipment and specialists." Michael breathed and tugged a hand through his thick dark hair tiredly. "I'm just glad I had people who looked after me." Antony smiled slowly and stood to fetch a protein shake from the fridge. He saw the look Michael gave him and frowned slowly.

"I'm on six of these a day and chicken, rice and broccoli. Bulking up because I'm gonna need to look like a dragon." Michael lifted an eyebrow and felt his mind go into doctor mode again. It just happened, and most times he just went with it. "That's just a bit unhealthy, though. How long are you on this diet?" Antony sat down again, and Payton took the bottle to sniff at it before she took a small swallow.

"That's pretty good. I'm sure it's fine, baby... he's done this before, remember?" Michael did remember and nodded easily. "I also remember the come down, darling, hence the reason for my question. It's not sustainable." Antony finished half in one long gulp and patted Michael's shoulder companionably. "This time I have her to look after me, remember? I'm on this stuff for the six months of production, and I have two possible projects lined up that might go my way. So I'm not gonna have time to starve myself," he thought for a moment.

"Also Leah is a nutritionist and insisted on taking over my food prep." He watched Tabatha wheel herself into the bedroom and smiled over at his friends. "I'm hiring you as my wedding planner and house hunter before you start the social media thing. Pay? I don't even care if she can walk by the time we tie the knot... I just wanna get it done as soon as possible. We already have the license." Payton grinned and moved around the table to make some tea.

"I'm not cheap, you know." That had them laughing, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and plastered a kiss to his brow. "I know that, me fellow me lass." Long arms looped around her, and he winked at Michael, who simply agreed with a broad smile.

Tabatha was sitting quietly by the bedside table with her phone in her hand, looking down at the screen worriedly. Antony had gone looking when she didn't return and found her just staring.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He asked and hunched by the side of the wheelchair with a grunt. "Remember I told you about the nurse that used to look after me at the facility?" Antony nodded confusedly, and she shrugged quickly. "She got my number from Leah and... sent me this. That's one of the Alzheimer girls, Vanessa who used to live in a city. She wanted to know if I knew her at all because she's waning and nobody visits her anymore." Antony took the phone and squinted down at the familiar vacant face.

"What if they're all there, Antony?" Antony shrugged and handed her phone back. "You wanna go take a look sometime? You haven't been back there since I transferred you." Tabatha nodded quickly and took a deep breath. "Will you take me?" His dark head dipped, and he reached up to press a kiss to her lips. "Like I was gonna let you go alone." He stood and pushed her back into the kitchen quickly and grinned at the coffee and snacks Payton had found.

"You have a well-stocked kitchen, Tabby." Tabatha pinned her with a knowing smile and reached for her coffee. "Leah takes very good care of me with Dae's money." They shared a chuckle, and he sat down and took a sip of his coffee with a sigh. "Yes, she does..."

Tabatha settled herself in his arm and smiled when his palm rested on her belly and drew her more deeply to his side. "I'm going fabric shopping with Payton tomorrow. She has so much stuff lined up that it's rather mind-boggling. A week, and she's planned most of everything already. Do you want to come?" Antony sighed slowly and set his phone down on his belly. He'd just got a text from Payton saying they were going tuxedo shopping the day after next, and no, he couldn't use an old one!

"Isn't that bad luck?" Her chuckle made him grin too, and she just shrugged at that. "Suppose it is. Do you know that we have a song?" That had him chuckling, and she simply reached for his phone and opened the YouTube app with a smile. "You are very comfortable with that thing, aren't you?" He chided, and she giggled. "Are you hiding another wheelchair-bound girl on here? I'd like to think I'm the only one." And she was, she thought; that part was pretty fucking obvious.

"You're the only one, sweetheart. So what is our song? I didn't know we had one." Tabatha searched for a bit and then hit play. "This is by way of why my Da named me Tabatha. He loved this song..." Her voice drifted off, and he chuckled at the words.

"Tabatha Twitchet... twitched?" She nodded, and he laughed softly. "And she loved Anton the Great... get it? Antony Greatfield? She had a framed picture of him on her wall; she loved tea every Sunday, and she didn't have anywhere to go either." His mouth went dry at the similarities, and he reached over to watch the lyrics roll by. "How the fuck is that even possible?" He stopped the music, and she tilted her head back so she could see his face. "And I did have a poster of you on my wall... well, it was the poster of Jarek with the scarf, but still. Strange, right?"

The phone dropped back onto his belly, and he breathed out slowly. "Kismet... what if we'd never met Tabby?" Slim shoulders shrugged, and she moved again so she could wrap her arm around his neck. "If we were meant to meet, we would have met, honey. Strange that we both had to nearly die, though. Anyway... Anton the Great, do you know how much I love you?" One long arm looped around her, and he hugged a bit as a smile tugged at his mouth. The other hand slipped around her cheek as he leaned in to press his mouth to hers. "And he loved Miss Tabatha Twitched..." Her grin was sweet, and then she leaned back to meet his gaze intently.

"Do you think Harmony followed Victorious Victor around because they'd both killed children?" Wow, Antony thought that was a question that came out of left field and had nothing to do with the previous conversation at all.

"That's a weird question to bring up after we realized we have a song." She pressed a kiss to his naked skin and snuggled in closer. "We don't really know anything about anyone that was in there. Not even their names were real in most cases. We're still going to the hospice tomorrow, right?" One arm rested around her shoulders, and she threaded her fingers through his to pull him in closer. Somehow tonight she couldn't seem to get close enough to him.

"I'm not shooting tomorrow, so I have the day off. I gave Leah the day off too... so it's just us." She slipped her thigh across his with some difficulty, and he turned in her embrace to tug his other arm around her too. A strong hand lifted her thigh up over his hip, and she sighed as he closed around her like a comforting blanket. Sometimes he just knew what she needed.

"What's wrong?" Antony murmured against her dark hair, and she tilted her head back to try and see his eyes. "Nothing... it's just that sometimes I need to feel you all warm and real like this so I won't be so scared to go to sleep." Now that was a loaded statement, if he'd ever heard one.

"Why are you scared to go to sleep?" That got him a heartfelt sigh. "Because I might wake up in the Between, and that means that all of this wasn't real either. All of this is too good to be true... you, the cancer treatment and waking up." How did he even begin to comment on that?

"Hey?" She tilted her head back to meet his soft gaze. "I'm real, and so are you." He pressed his mouth to hers as one hand slipped beneath her shirt and up around her back. "We're real..." She murmured with him and pressed her cheek to his shoulder as he drew her in close. "There's nothing more real than us right now."

Tabatha pressed a kiss to his mouth, and then took a quick breath because she just really needed to know more, and she wasn't sure how to go about asking now. "Just ask?" He urged, because he knew her very well by now and knew she had something else on her mind.

"I think the Between pushed you that hard because you needed to come to terms with killing your parents, and-" He stopped her with a sigh, and she cleared her throat again. "No, listen. I knew you weren't going to be there long, because they put up your real name on that door. Not some weird nickname that only made sense to them. The eggs, and the... when they let you stay with me in my room. That all had to mean something, and maybe that was it. If you had died, you'd have been on the other side of the wall. Do you feel remorse... at all?" Antony's heavy sigh would have ended a normal conversation, but she had to know, and he knew she'd only ask later. They needed to talk about this a bit more.

"I felt trapped in that house with them. I felt utterly alone, and completely trapped. It never occurred to me to tell anyone about the abuse. I didn't have friends, I never went anywhere but to school... and I was isolated. I remember the detective sitting down across from me, and just looking at me." He let the memory take him for the first time in so long, and clenched his teeth against the urge to just push her away and leave.

"I was badly bruised, and very thin. I was always sick, and I always had sores around my mouth. I used to hide the bruises beneath baggy clothes, and sitting there in prison orange... everyone could finally see the abuse clear as day. Why didn't you tell someone? That's all he asked, and I just shrugged... because I didn't know I could tell anyone. Then he said, tell me what put you in that room with a shotgun. So I did. I told him all of it... everything. The judge sent me to a psychiatric hospital until I was rehabilitated, and six months later I... jumped a bus to New York. When I hit money the first thing I did was pay a lawyer a small fortune to seal all my records, to basically wipe Antony Greatfield from the world like he never existed. Then I saw his name on that door-" His chest hitched, and Tabatha soothed his shoulder gently.

"I didn't have to be him for so many years, and then they forced it on me. I don't... well, I do feel remorse for shooting them, because I could have just told someone and they'd have gone to jail. I just didn't think I could. I needed forgiveness... and I needed to forgive. I'll never know why they did what they did, and somehow it doesn't matter anymore." She pressed her cheek to his chest again, and his arms pulled her in closer.

"Thank you for telling me." The soft whisper fell against his bare skin, and he pressed his lips to her dark hair lovingly. "Right now I just want to be real here with you Tabby. I've never been this safe..."

"Charles from Vancouver..." She whispered as her eyes rested on the serene face of the older man sitting up in his chair, staring at the garden. "Charles?" She murmured gently and reached out to take his old hand. The nurse hunched by the side of her wheelchair and touched his old shoulder.

"You found Mr. Blake... Hey, Charlie, look, you got another pretty girl smiling at you today. You handsome old thing?" Tabatha smiled into the nurse's friendly brown eyes. "Charles Blake?" The nurse nodded. "How do you even know him, Tabby girl? We used to put you next to him when he was still lucid, and he'd read Tolkien... But now he doesn't even read anymore. He just stares..." Tabatha felt her chest hitch and looked around for Antony.

She found him talking with the administrator, but he joined her when he noticed her obvious distress. "It's Charles, and he used to read Tolkien to me." She gasped and reached for the old hand again. Antony hunched by her side and watched the older man's eyes drift to find Tabatha's.

"Hello, Charles." She whispered, and his fingers tightened around hers. "I woke up." The nurse was there again, and she touched a tender hand to his old hunched shoulder. "How old is he?" Antony asked, and the nurse busied herself with his IV line. "Ninety-seven. This old boy saw World War II and survived. He used to tell us such stories of how he'd wanted to go to Vancouver to meet up with this girl he'd met in Germany. I guess she lived there. That was back when the dementia first started, though." Ninety-seven, Tabatha thought and found his dark eyes again.

Charles was both looking at her and through her. "Charles from Vancouver. The catchers won't come for you. You'll go to sleep and wake up in the light... safe, Charles. You'll be safe." She wasn't sure what made her whisper the soft words, but Antony's hand tightened around her arm as he engaged the nurse in a conversation to distract her from what Tabatha was saying.

"We called you about another old lady, though. I'll push you up?" Julia, Tabatha read on her tag, and she sat forward in her chair first to press a soft kiss to Charles' cheek. "Go home, Charles from Vancouver." She whispered and sat back to look up at Julia.

"He looks like my father." She lied by way of explanation, and Antony pushed her away with a lifted brow.

"This here is our Mrs. McEvoy. Hey there, Lydia dear." Vacant eyes followed the nurse and then rested on Tabatha. "Lydia?" She asked, and the nurse nodded. "You shared a room with her, and I thought you could just hold her hand like you used to do." Tabatha's head tilted in question, and the nurse looked down at her hands.

"She was usually in the chair beside you, and she'd take your hand. I got the feeling that she liked you very much. That's why I called you... because she's got nobody else. She's dying, the poor old dear." Tabatha reached for the gnarled old hand and folded her fingers around them with a sigh.

"Did she know anyone by the name of Vanessa?" She sounded like a crazy person, but she just had to know now. "Her sister was called Vanessa, but she died. She used to live in Salt Lake City. Before she died, she used to visit here often." Tabatha shut her mouth and lifted the old fingers to her lips.

"Vanessa, who lived in a city." She whispered against her palm and felt the old fingers move. "Go find your sister, sweetheart." The whisper was very soft, and she held the old hand tightly for a long, long moment.

"I'm gonna go get you some tea." Antony nodded thankfully and hunched by Tabatha's chair. "What if they're all here, Antony? This is too strange, isn't it? Obviously it's not stranger than everything we went through, but this is... scary strange." He agreed with a grunt and avoided her eyes.

"Will we ask for a walk-through and have a look? I can hint at a contribution or something, which I was going to do anyway. These people are doing great work." She nodded quickly and leaned into him.

"There's a catcher here... But he's hiding. Please just stay with me?" His ocean blue eyes widened, but he nodded because he knew she wouldn't make something like that up. Anyone else would have thought her insane, but he knew better.

"I should be very fucking scared... but I'm not." He stood quickly when the nurse entered and smiled slowly when she poured the tea and set out the biscuits. "I'd like to make a contribution to this place, anonymously of course... But do you think after we're done here we could have a look around? You took really good care of my Tabby." He used the pet name, and she accepted the cup of tea with a trembling hand.

"Of course you can have a look as soon as you finish this up. I'll go find Sally, our administrator, so she can talk to you." With that she was gone, and he watched Tabatha set the cup aside and reach for Lydia's hand again. "It's so dark... I know, but you need to go home now, sweetheart. Okay? You always listened to me, so listen to me now, Vanessa who lived in a city... Let go and go home?"

Antony watched her whisper in her authoritative librarian voice and wondered what the fuck was going on. She did this sometimes, and he usually had no idea what to do with any of it; then he'd remind himself where her mind had been for more than a year, and he understood. She couldn't have come back unchanged from an experience like that. She'd taken care of these people there in the Between, and maybe she still felt it was her responsibility.

By the time they'd left the home that afternoon, she'd found almost everyone she remembered from the Between, and he was sure she was as shaken as he was by it all. So he drove them to a nice neutral restaurant that he knew, and they had a meal. Then he took her home and didn't comment on her silence. She'd get around to talking soon enough.

He carried her up the stairs and set her down on the couch with a sigh before he left for the chair and to park the car in the basement garage. When he got back, though, she was still just sitting there, and he joined her. Actually, he lifted her into his lap and folded his arms around her as far as they'd go.

"You don't have to talk about it." He murmured against her hair, and she finally let go of a small little sob that he hardly heard. "I'm scared." She whispered against his chest and pressed her nose into the familiar smell of his shirt. "So am I... but we're here and we're together, and that's what matters, right?" Tabatha nodded and fisted her hands around his shirt.

"The catcher saw me. I told them to go home, and he saw me and he's going to come for me now." His powerful arms tightened even more, and he tugged a heavy hand into her dark hair to press her cheek to his chest even closer.

"He can't take you from here, remember? I prayed and told him to leave, and he left. I didn't open my eyes, and I didn't speak to him, but he left when I prayed. So we'll do that." She nodded and closed her eyes against the intense fear.

"Okay. We had to go there, but we shouldn't have gone there. Looking at them there, I just knew I had to tell them to go home and say their names. I knew Charles wasn't from Vancouver, but the girl he loved was. Vanessa who lived in a city, called herself that because she had a sister named Vanessa who lived in a city... and that's all they could remember." She sat away from his arms and pressed her hands to his shoulders.

"They gave me your real name, but they called me Tabatha Twitched... because I twitched in school, at least I think that's why. Was I just there because I was in the same vicinity, or is there more? I don't know what to do with any of this. Was Victorious Victor's name really Victor? He could have been anyone... and I mean almost all the Alzheimer girls were there. Except for Harmony, but she died, right? I don't want to think about these things, and I try really hard not to because it'll drive me insane, but the floodgates are open, and I don't know how to think about this. You weren't even in that hospice, but you were in the Between." She was being very sincere about it all, and he tried to formulate a reply, but he didn't have one.

"How about we find someone who does? This cannot be a phenomenon that happened only to us... It stands to reason there are others out there." Tabatha nodded earnestly and wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself to his chest again. "Yes... please, let's do that, but first I need you to love me. You fill up all the spaces in me until there's nothing but us." Tabatha tipped her head back and then slanted her lips over his to take the kiss she needed so desperately now.

Antony let her kiss him and then stood with her against his chest and carried her to the bedroom. They didn't do this often, but when she needed it like this, he made sure to love every part of her as thoroughly as he could...

"Payton called to say my dress is ready. Are you sure you want to marry a head case like me?" Antony chuckled at the look on her face and shook his head. "No, but I'm doing it anyway." She lifted a brow at him, and he couldn't help laughing.

"Yes, I'm sure I want to marry you, silly woman. Just you try and run away." That got him a giggle, and she looked down at her legs. She'd been walking short distances, mostly between the couch and the counter or the chair and fridge. She also tried to stand in the shower and could feel herself getting stronger.

"I shan't be running." The door opened to let in Leah, and Antony just looked down at her and then hunched to press a warm, deep kiss to her lips. "I'm glad, but I'm pretty sure I could catch you anyway." After a deep, loving hug, he swung his bag across his shoulder and headed for the door, singing softly. Life was good, and for once things were going his way. This was a good day.

"This is so beautiful, Payton." Tabatha breathed and touched the soft satin that cinched her bodice; she was going to burst into tears pretty soon now, and somehow she felt that Payton had seen her share of crying brides.

"Well, thank you... But you inside this dress is all he's going to be seeing anyway. So are you ready for Saturday?" Leah pushed the walker she now used to get around by herself closer, and she leaned onto it thankfully. Payton was still busy at the back, cinching material together with needles, and she couldn't help her shiver.

"Where did you learn to sew?" She needed some kind of conversation to stop the tears, and Payton let out a little laugh. "Dae took acting classes, and I took sewing classes. This was way back when we got started in modeling, and since I liked clothes, I thought I might as well learn to make them, and one day I could have my own shop. I've had seamstresses working for me for years now, but this dress is all me. I love working with fabric..." Her voice drifted off, and Tabatha set her footing again.

"One more minute and you can sit." They were in Payton's big kitchen, and Leah had little Garrett on her hip; Leif and Pace were still in school.

"I'm gonna wrap white ribbons around this walker, and with some flowers that should pretty it up a bit. It's a drab old thing." Leah asked and they both laughed with her. "I might need it half way, but I'm thinking he's just going to come rescue me." By now Payton was done and they helped her undress before she slipped on her blouse again and then sat down in the chair Leah had ready.

"Now that would be a picture worth having, right?" Leah handed little Garrett down to her, and she watched Payton move over to the machine to set the dress down carefully. There wasn't very much to it, but she liked that the form-fitting velvet actually gave her more of a figure than she had. She was still very thin, but Payton was a magic worker, and she looked a bit more voluptuous in it than she actually was.

"He's been working very hard in the gym to get ready for his role, but he's not getting on with his co-star at all. She's this little blonde bombshell with the breasts and the Texan accent, and all of it. How do I handle that?" Payton joined her and took her baby to put him down with a bottle for his nap.

"You don't. You let him sort that out all by himself. Dae is extremely focused, and he'll find a way around it. Who is she in the movie?" Tabatha sighed here, because that was the problem in a nutshell.

"She's actually supposed to be his semi-love interest. It's a very rough sort of relationship, I gather. Love-hate... and there were a bunch of nude scenes that he had written out. She put up a fuss and said it was because I was there that he refused to do them. Then he told her he didn't need to be naked to fake rape her." She stopped herself at the look on Payton's face and took a breath.

"No same sex, no nudity and no blasphemy. It's in his contract now, and she wasn't having any of it. She really, really wants those sex scenes to be all nude. Do I still do nothing?" Payton nodded carefully.

"Oh yes. Trust me sweetheart, he's the best method actor I know, and he's going to use that antagonism to really sell that love-hate angle. You'll see... and you'll also see when he needs you to say something. He'll let you know."

Leah was fixing lunch with Payton's nanny on the other side of the kitchen, and she looked over to watch for a moment. "He's very complicated." She murmured, and the little blonde agreed with a mirthless chuckle.

"Oh, you have no idea. What I do know, though, is that his love for you, Tabby, is probably the least complicated thing in his entire life. He woke up in the hospital so broken and in excruciating pain... but the only thing he kept asking was that I needed to find Tabatha Anne Mulvaney from Brooklyn. Every chance he got. I asked him who that even was, and he just said she's the girl I can't leave alone in the dark; I have to find her... and here you are, getting married on Saturday. You concentrate on loving him and caring for him and making his home safe and comforting. Let him deal with his life; he knows how."

Payton sat down with a sigh, found her iPad and went down her list of notes for the wedding. "Also, we need to talk hair before we meet with the stylist. I thought maybe a sleek updo. I asked her to meet us tomorrow morning so she could get a feel for you. I'll come pick you up." Tabatha leaned in a bit and touched a hand to her short bob. "An updo? Sure... that sounds like fun. It won't look fake, though?" Payton chuckled at the look on her face and reached over to touch her hand.

"Trust me honey, it won't look fake at all. We'll do a dramatic dark eye and lips... because that's gonna work so great for you and the whole theme you two have going." Theme, she thought and laughed at the idea of that.

"He said black, and you said red, and then he said pink, and you said lace. Do you see my problem, Leah?" Leah smiled with a shake of her head and tried not to be self-conscious around Payton's very sophisticated nanny.

"You should hear them argue over furnishing that house they're buying. Tabby wants a green kitchen." Tabatha burst out laughing and pointed a finger at her.

"Now be fair, Leah. We both know that's gonna be a disaster. I let him have his way much too often, but I just so want a retro seventies kitchen. He wants this real upmarket white kitchen with glass and rustic wood finishes... and I don't like that. It's so boring. I did get my way in the end, with a few strategic compromises." Payton chuckled with her and then sat back against her chair.

"Dae doesn't do shabby chic or retro, which is why he sort of hates my whole house too. So you do have that to look forward to." Tabatha just sighed and shifted in the chair. "I just look forward to being his wife and creating this life with him. The surroundings are secondary, right?" Payton's large blue eyes misted up, and she reached for her hand. "Those are wise, wise words, my friend."

Tabatha wasn't sure about Payton's advice at all, but she kept her misgivings to herself as Leah drove them home much later that afternoon. The drive was a quiet one with only Leah's brand of crazy guitar music filling the expensive SUV.

They'd moved into their new place a couple of days ago and unpacking, she found, was pretty easy when you suddenly had ten hands helping you. She only had to point, and one of the home experts--that Payton suggested--arranged everything where you wanted it.

Which meant that when Leah helped her in through the door, the place actually looked like a home. The house was on a ten-acre farm an hour or so out of the city. That meant he had to commute to and from work, but like he told her, he didn't really mind the drive. It gave him time to memorize lines.

They now had six bedrooms, a large farmhouse-style kitchen with beautiful oak cabinets, and all the amenities his money could buy, but they were retro. They'd compromised in the end. Three living spaces divided the upstairs from the downstairs, and they had two full bathrooms, one en suite to the master bedroom.

Antony had let her have whatever her little heart desired and scolded her for choosing less expensive things. It just so happened that she was a retro/vintage type of librarian, and he couldn't understand that she would rather shop at antique stores than large retailers.

It was an insight into his personality that she usually lost him in the tool section of all these stores. He bought old hammers, and axes and all manner of stuff. Not that she minded. It just meant he was a male after all and would soon have an entire barn to fill up with all kinds of manly things that made no sense to her.

What she had was a study, and after unpacking all her books in there, she'd felt completely at home. Adding to her collection was so satisfying, and she only laughed when he insisted on a huge wingback chair that fit them both. That way she could sit on his lap and read him a story. It had made her giggle at first, and then she realized that perhaps it was a bit of his childhood he was trying to recapture. She couldn't imagine his mother ever picking him up on her lap to read him a story. Sad. It was sad.

All that, however, paled in comparison to the size of the bed. She'd probably get lost in it all by herself, but he'd made sure there was enough space for him to stretch out any which way he liked and never overhung. They'd not tested it out yet because both wanted to wait for the wedding.

Oh, the wedding, she thought, and took a deep breath. The wedding was going to be held in their very own backyard. They had the space, and it promised them the privacy they wanted too. A great big white marquee tent was already erected outside, and she stood looking at it through the kitchen door for a moment before she turned for her chair to sag into it tiredly.

"I'll make the coffee." Leah said behind her, and she turned a bit to watch the older woman. "Leah, do you believe in demons?" The woman crossed herself before she nodded with a deep, worried frown.

"I'm Mexican, honey; we believe in everything superstitious the world has ever thunk up." Thunk, Tabatha thought, and chuckled. "Thought up, Leah." She corrected her, and the woman just laughed. "I know, I know. My kid used to say that when he was little. Why are you asking about demons?" Tabatha shrugged and looked around her with her lip between her teeth.

"I... have nightmares about them sometimes. Clawing to get into this world here with us and shoving at the wall that keeps them out. You worked with Alzheimer/Dementia patients, right?" Lean nodded again and set the coffee things on the table along with a tray of Danishes they'd bought.

"Too many. I worked in state-run facilities, so mostly you don't even know who the old people are that they bring in. Some are abandoned by family, some don't have family... some people's money runs out. Some don't talk, and some never stop talking. Most of them, though, just sit, staring." Tabatha reached for a pastry, but before she bit into it, she set it down and then just looked at the older woman.

"Why did they put me among them then? I was in a vegetative state that needed a bunch of care?" Leah just shrugged and sat down to clear her throat. Something was going on with her young friend, and she wasn't sure at all where this was leading.

"The hospice was equipped to give the care, and there were some other coma patients there too." She held up four fingers, and Tabatha leaned in almost too quickly. "Can you remember their names?" Oh, now Leah would think she was crazy, but she had to know. This seemed much too important.

"Oh, I don't remember all their names... there was a young man--" She thought for a moment. "And I think the others were older people too. He died just before you woke up... well, not just before; it was more like four, maybe three months. I remember because we had such a time with his bladder. Before shooting himself, he mutilated his... private... parts." She blushed a bit and didn't notice the way Tabatha went pale.

"So he wore a bag, and we had the hardest time with infection control. Nobody ever came to see him, poor thing. No, I lie, there was a man that came one day and he had a picture of garden that he said we needed to put up in his room-" Now she did notice how pale her young charge was and reached for her shaking hand.

"Oh, what is wrong? Are you alright? Tell me what you feel!" She demanded, and Tabatha recognized the authoritative tone in her voice. She'd used it so many times on all the old ambling people who didn't know their names, or where they were from... or where they were.

"I'm fine--" She gasped and watched Leah take her pulse worriedly. "I'm calling an ambulance; you are not fine. Your pulse is racing, and you are very pale. This could be a--" Tabatha reached for her hand and stopped her definitely.

"No, I'm fine. Listen, you have to tell me what happened to the man in the coma. How did he die? What was his name? You have to remember?" She beseeched and forced her racing heart to slow down.

"I'll call my friend that still works there, but I don't like this Tabby." Forcing her hand to stop shaking, she picked up her phone and nodded urgently. "Why do you need to know this?" Leah was already on her phone searching for the friend's number, and Tabatha found Antony's number.

"Hey... Can you come home?" She asked when he answered, and she couldn't help but notice he was out of breath. That meant he was still in the gym.

"Sure, what's wrong?" Antony grunted as he stopped moving and tilted his head at the strange tone of her voice.

"Victorious Victor was in the same hospice as me, and... I'm scared." The last was a soft little whisper, and Antony reached for his towel to dry his face quickly.

"I won't be there for at least an hour and a half, sweetheart. Don't let Leah leave before I get there. I'm coming." The call went dead, and she looked at the screen for a moment before she found Leah on the other side of the kitchen talking up a Spanish storm.

With tremendous willpower, she reached for a Danish and bit into the sweetness just to get her mind off what she was doing. What felt like ten minutes later, Leah dropped down on the chair opposite and pinned a now calmer and less shaky Tabatha with a worried look.

"Victor Mansfield. He was thirty-eight when he shot himself, and there was nothing in the police report about why he even did it. We got him at the hospice, and he lived for maybe a year at most, and then he had a cardiac arrest, and the court-ordered DNR said don't resus, so we didn't. Now why do you need to know this?" Tabatha frowned slowly and then calmly ate the rest of the pastry.

"He molested and killed little boys and then buried them in his garden. I saw the catcher come for him, and I heard him screaming. His room was full of gardens... beautiful gardens." Leah leaned in to pin her with a wide-eyed stare and then immediately dialed 911.

"I need an ambulance at--" She began, and Tabatha calmly reached over and plucked the phone from her hand to end the call and then she dropped it into her lap. "I'm fine, Leah. I am completely fine. Charles from Vancouver couldn't remember his last name, but he remembered that he loved a girl from Vancouver, and he wanted to go visit her. You knew him as Charles Blake. Vanessa who lived in a city, was really Lydia McEvoy, who had a sister named Vanessa in Salt Lake City. That's all she could remember. The same night they came for Victorious Victor, an old lady named Harmony was taken too. Do you remember Harmony?"

Leah was pretty freaked out by now, but she had to wonder how Tabatha would even know any of these facts at all.

"She was ninety-eight and totally vacant; she had been for years. She woke up screaming, and then her heart just stopped, and she died. How do you know all these things? You're freaking me out, Tabby!" She cried and watched as Tabby stood on shaky legs, handed her phone back, and then turned for the door.

"Because I looked after them for an entire year in the Between space. I can't explain it, Leah. Just allow your superstitious mind to listen to me without going rational; otherwise, you won't believe a thing I say." Leah pushed her back down and sat down herself and decided to just listen until Dade got here because he needed to take care of all this.

"That's where I met... Dade. I took care of him there when he was in the coma. Then he woke up and came looking for me. How else do you explain that man knowing me at all? I worked in a library, and I went to work and home, and that was it. I didn't go out; I didn't go on vacation. Where would he have met me? We told everybody we met in Mexico, I've never been there. I've never been anywhere. I... think Harmony might have killed all her children. He saw her do it... she drowned them in the sink one by one. Little crying babies. I heard them come for her, but we stayed inside and quiet and safe." Leah swallowed hard, and reached for her cup to take a deep swallow of the coffee. None of what she was saying made any sense, but she decided to let her have it. This was coming from somewhere, and she was curious now.

"So you're trying to tell me that you know all the people from the home from this between place?" Tabatha nodded. "Ask me anything?" Oh, Leah thought, and drank down the coffee with a racing heart. "Who else do you remember, and maybe I know the names?" Tabatha took a breath and cleared her throat before she let the memories take her.

"There's Freaky Wanda, who might have been an actress because she talked in tongue twisters and riddles. Half of what she said made no sense, and she dressed like a chameleon on steroids. She introduced herself as Freaky Wanda. Abigail Something was a kind old soul who just ambled around trying to get people to sit still so she could fix their hair, so maybe she was a hairdresser? Dimity, who might be Lorraine, was so confused she never knew what was going on or why. Charles from Vancouver used to tag her along with him, and she was just always holding onto his sleeve. Diane Wingate was the only other really lucid person I met there, and she was the one who told me what to do and how not to... get sucked in. I was there maybe a month when the wall took her. Anything?"

Leah took a breath, stood to fix more coffee, added brandy to hers, and then took up her chair again, looking perplexed.

"Wanda Salisbury, I think. She was a carnival performer most of her life, if I remember it right. Before she went really quiet, she used to entertain us with the tongue twisters. I don't remember an Abigail, but I can check that out. I do, however, remember Lorraine... her daughter's name was Dimity, and she used to come out on Sundays. Diane Wingate was in a car accident and in a vegetative state like you were. She used to be a nurse and served in the Vietnam War. I remember because she was buried in her uniform. I go to all the funerals, because sometimes nobody else does. Some of these people are all still alive, honey." Tabatha wiped at the tears on her cheeks.

"I think Lydia and Charles went home. I told them to go home. The bodies are alive, but their minds are somewhere else. I don't know how to help them now." Leah wiped across her mouth and took a deep swig of her brandy-laced coffee before she leaned in and pinned her with a serious look.

"My abuela, bless her soul, used to say, Mija, only God knows, and He works mysteriously. All we can do is just let Him do His thing. Trying to find what that is might let in those demons you're so scared of." Tabatha felt her blood turn to ice, and looked around her anxiously.

Since the catcher had left that Payton had brought in here, she hadn't seen it again. Oh, there was one in the hospice, but he didn't follow them home. Maybe she really was safe from it.

"So you believe me?" Leah nodded, because how couldn't she? This girl knew things about people she couldn't possibly know. "What did Charles Blake read to you?" Dark doe eyes snapped to hers. "The Lord of the Rings. His favorite part was where Strider is first introduced, because I got to read that a bunch when I was in the between. I read it to Antony... I mean Dade." Leah smiled gently and found the brandy again to take a swig.

"I believe you. There's only one real way to prove any of this, right? I'll make an anonymous call to the cops about Victor, and if there are kids in his garden... I'm gonna need Valium to get to sleep from now on. I also got some interesting questions for the priest." That sounded like a good course of action, and she held up her hand a bit shakily to stop her from calling.

"Let's just wait for Dae to get here first? Pour me some of that brandy before you drink it all."

Antony stumbled into the bedroom to find Tabatha sitting on the edge calmly paging through a book. She wasn't reading, just paging. She also didn't look up when he moved around the bed, and he dropped into a hunch by her knees worriedly.

"It's beneath the dresser. I found out who Victorious Victor really is, and I think that's him..." She made a motion with her head, and Antony's jaw dropped before he looked down at the book she was paging. It was the picture Bible she'd gotten at a book sale the other day, and he could see her hands shake.

"I told Leah to go fix dinner. I didn't want him to notice her. You need to tell him to leave." He cleared his throat a bit and sagged onto his knees before he let his hands slip up her thighs gently.

"Why me?" Seemed the obvious question, but she was still paging, and she hadn't looked up at him yet. "He wants to hurt me because I let the catcher take him. He's been whispering, and if I page this Bible, he stops. You sent Harmony away before... it was her that showed you she killed her babies. Just do what you did before." Antony took a deep breath, rocked back on his heels, and then closed his eyes.

This was freaking him the fuck out, and he was sure he needed to start screaming; then he watched her page and knew he had to protect her. It was his turn to protect her. He had her key this time, and he could feel the surety of that fill him up.

"The Blood of Salvation of Jesus Christ protects us from you. You are not welcome in this place. Please, Holy Spirit, protect Tabatha and Antony from this evil." He repeated this twice more with complete conviction, and Tabatha finally stopped paging and burst into tears.

Beneath her shaky hand was a beautiful drawing of Jesus on the cross, and her tears fell on the picture as her shoulders shook. "Tabby?" He breathed and reached for her almost too quickly. The book fell to the bed, and he pulled her up against his chest as he stood. "It's gone, right?" He asked and she nodded against his shoulder before she lifted her legs around his hips. One hand slipped beneath to hold her up, and she tightened her arms around his neck.

Leah poked her head around the door, and Antony sat down on the side of the bed with a gasp. "It's okay now." He soothed and the nurse watched while muttering a rosary beneath her breath. Whatever this was just got really weird.

"Okay, so talk to me?" Tabatha tipped her head back, and he lifted one hand to rub at her wet cheek gently. "I wish I could forget everything that happened there. I asked Leah about... about the Alzheimer girls, and him... and they're all there. Charles from Vancouver and Vanessa from the city... both died. I told them to go home, and they did. I just want to marry you and have this life... and have a baby and not worry about catchers, and... the Between again. Do you think God will let me have that?" A slow smile tilted his lips.

"He woke you up for me didn't He? The fact that I found you and Michael could help you... and that you have no disabilities is a miracle. We're learning about Him and going to church. I think we're good." She sat away and then slipped from his lap with a bit of trouble; he held onto her hand when she pointed at the dresser, though.

"Then why does that keep happening?" Antony shrugged again and stood to join her simply because he was scared her legs would give out. "Job, right? You remember talking about Job? In Jesus' name I overcame anorexia and debauchery. I'm eating, and the flesh no longer rules me. That belongs to God because I couldn't have done it by myself. Everything that you are, that we have, is God's grace. So of course they're going to try and screw with it. What I just did is what we keep doing, because the fact that they keep doing it means we're doing something right. Right?"

They both turned as Leah clapped softly from the door and she moved in so she could pick up the bible that had fallen closed. "You got it exactly right, Mr. Holden. Exactly right." Tabatha faltered a bit to the side, and Antony simply reached down and lifted her up against his chest again.

"All we can do is take His grace day by day and do our best to give glory to His name. Doesn't say nowhere in this book that it's easy. I'm going to put in a call about that guy we talked about, because if he buried those kids... their families need to know. I need to know too."

On Saturday afternoon Antony watched Tabatha float up the aisle in white velvet and wondered if his life had ever been more complete. The space before the beautiful gazebo was packed with colleagues, and of course Leah's family and her new boyfriend. Payton's two boys acted as flower boys, and that had given their father a chuckle, to which Antony had simply remarked that maybe he should have had girls instead, because who else was going to do this. They didn't know people with little girls!

"We are here today--" The preacher began, and Antony hunched down beside the chair she'd thankfully sagged into after reaching him. She'd made it up the aisle, though, and he'd never been as proud of anyone in his entire life.

Antony didn't hear the vows she was speaking or see the beautiful flowers in her hair. All there was for this moment was the soft, warm brown of her large doe eyes looking into his soul. Someone touched his shoulder, and then he was speaking the words he'd memorized so perfectly.

Tabatha was laughing, and he could see her mouth the words I do, and felt the words slip from his throat too.

The preacher was talking again, and she nodded her head slowly before she leaned in to press her mouth to his. Before she could, though, he noticed fine sparkly glitter fall to her shoulders almost gently. "Glitter?" He asked as he stopped to slip his hand around her cheek and into her unbound hair.

"Antony?" She asked, but he couldn't hear her voice because a sudden pain bloomed between his shoulders and drew a gasp from him. He didn't have any breath to scream with! The fire blossomed into his chest, and his hands reached for her, and the glitter falling from her hair covered the blood that spattered across her dress.

Someone was screaming... someone was screaming...

Tabatha reached for his chest with a frown when his brows drew up just before their first kiss as husband and wife, and the word glitter slipped from his mouth. "Antony?" She was shaking her head slowly, and then a loud shot rang out, and then another.

Antony gasped, and she reached for him when he sagged forward against her. Blood spattered her dress, and she grasped him tight as he coughed weakly. "Antony!" She screamed, and then the world around her erupted into shouts and screams, and someone drew him away. It was Michael, and he was performing CPR and shouting at everyone around him to call an ambulance! Leah was there by his side in an instant, and together they tried to stop the bleeding.

"Antony!" That was her, Tabatha thought; she was screaming, and she couldn't help herself from repeating his name over and over! Antony!

It took forever for paramedics to arrive, and by then she was certain he couldn't be alive, but everything in her was certain that God couldn't be this cruel! He simply couldn't be this cruel! There was no way He could give them this wonderful dream, and then take it away just as they were on the very cusp of it!

"We'll meet you at the hospital." Payton looked up at her tall husband and couldn't help noticing that his hands and arms were bloody. "Follow the ambulance." He ordered and pressed a kiss to her mouth before he headed for the ambulance and slipped in.

Leah was already helping Tabatha up, and the blood that covered her dress drew her horrified gaze. "What happened?" Tabatha asked dazedly, and Payton nodded to her car. "Leah, go find her some clothes, and I'll put her in the car. We need to follow them in. We'll talk on the way."

"It was Jessa. She cut some wires to get in and... shot Dae. Twice... in the back. Coward. I saw her do it!" Payton was crying as she drove, and Tabatha felt her world tilt as choking tears closed her chest. She wasn't sure when she had last taken a breath, because every time she saw the blood on her arms and dress, she couldn't breathe again.

Leah was in the backseat wiping at her arms and hands with the moist towels Payton always had in her car, before she sat forward and lifted Tabatha's arm to clean the blood away as best she could.

"He saw gl-glitter! He's going... going, to... to die Payton." She stammered and Payton put her foot down on the accelerator with a choking sob. "No, he's not. Michael is a great surgeon and he'll keep him alive! Start praying and stop screaming, Tabby, please?" Screaming, Tabatha thought, and took a gulp of air. How can she be screaming if she can't even breathe?

They skidded to a halt before the Emergency room of the local hospital and Payton was running by the time the car came to a stop. Leah moved around to help Tabatha, and by then two orderlies were there to help her. Michael had made sure that they knew to expect her, and she let them take Tabatha inside as she pulled the car into a parking space nearby.

"Dade Holden! Where is he? My husband, Michael Peterson, brought him in just now." Payton demanded and slammed her hand onto the counter when the nurse took too long in answering her.

"Your husband said you'd be here and for you to wait. I'll put you in a private space, but they've taken Mr. Holden into surgery already. He called ahead. Also, I need to treat Mrs. Holden for trauma." Payton nodded and looked around when they wheeled a sobbing Tabatha into the private space. Leah was following with some clothes in her arms, and Payton just stood there and felt her world tumble in on itself. If Dae died, she'd have lost her best friend... her only friend.

"Oh please don't take him. Please don't take him. Please don't take him." Tabatha kept whispering as she sat on the side of the bed rocking herself. Payton was standing at the door, and Leah was sitting on a bench by the bed with her hands around Tabatha's. She was praying with her rosary.

"Why glitter? You said he said glitter?" Payton asked quickly, having only then remembered that strange detail. "The Between used to dress me as a stripper, and there was always glitter falling from my hair. I felt like Tinkerbell. I think he saw glitter falling from my hair because he reached for my hair... and then-" She stopped and looked over to her bloody wedding dress draped across a chair on the other side of the room.

"Did they get Jessa?" Her voice was husky from screaming, and she watched Payton turn quickly and nod. "Security took her down, but she wasn't even running. She just stood there... laughing."

Tabatha looked down at her thighs and rubbed her shaking hands over the black leggings. "What if he's in the Between... and that's why he saw glitter..."

Epilogue

"Are we getting ice cream?" Charlie looked up at his mother and watched as she tied a sarong around her big fat belly. "Oh, you bet we are. I want chocolate chip with all the sprinkles they have. Let's go find Daddy." She took his small warm hand, and together they headed down to the pristine white beach. They'd finally found time to come to Cabo San Lucas, and she got to see Mexico.

When Charlie saw his daddy, he started running, and she watched his sturdy little three-year-old body hurtle across the white sand to where his tall father was standing by the ocean. Tabatha lifted her hand to wave at him and watched as he caught his son and swung him high a few times so he could hear his ecstatic giggles!

"Antony!" She called with a giggle and slipped the soft material of the shawl around her shoulders again. She was Irish and had already had awful sunburn once this trip!

She couldn't help her steps from faltering, though, when he turned to her, and the utter beauty of him filled her heart. How could one man stand to be this handsome, she thought and her eyes slipped to the scar across his breast that nearly took him from her nearly three years ago now.

She'd sat in that room for what felt like days before Michael had slipped in to tell them he was alive and stable... and awake. Where the strength in her legs had come from, she probably wouldn't ever know, but she got up and followed the doctor to his room.

On the cusp of sleep he kept whispering; please forgive me God, and she'd simply sagged onto the bed by his side and started praying with him. Then Leah was there, and Payton was there, and Michael was there, and God gave him back to them.

"What planet are you on?" He asked slipping his hand around her cheek and Tabatha shrugged a bit and patted her big round belly. "I was just thinking that I'd still slap that ass every chance I get." A broad smile tilted his pretty mouth, and she leaned up for a kiss. "It's all yours to slap, baby." He chuckled and led her down the beach...

The End