'You don't realise how much stress you carry when you are in law enforcement.'

I hadn't blinked for almost 20 minutes, as I sat glued to the detective documentary on TV. It was one of mine and Zak's guilty pleasures and we often watched them together in the evening, but Zak had been away for almost a week and I needed my fix.

He was due home at any moment and after seeing the news on Twitter, I was excited to congratulate him on winning The Best Attraction in Las Vegas for the third year in a row. I had gone out and grabbed a cake as well as a number three candle, and a small pack of party poppers, which I fully intended on pulling when he came through the door.  Now all I had to do was wait, which is how I ended up watching our show.

'He lived a secret life. His murder was the unravelling of that secret life.'

The detective on TV was just getting their teeth sank into that man's life, when I heard the garage door open and a car drive in.

He's home!

Grabbing the remote controller, I turn it off and quickly rush to the back door, ready to congratulate him. But when Zak's assistant Bacon enters first and gives me a grave look, my celebrations die in my throat. Pinching my lips together, I move away from the door and position myself at the kitchen island, waiting patiently.

When Zak enters, the dark cloud that seems to follow him, enters too. From the playful man who left the house last week, to the man who walked in now, he is completely different.  The bright blue eyes that always lit up, were now dull and framed with dark circles.

"Hey.." I say softly, but I'm met with silence as he marches through the kitchen and straight to the bedroom.

Looking to Bacon, I wait for an explanation and flinch when the bedroom door slams loudly. With a heavy sigh, Bacon sits himself on a kitchen stool and rubs his face.

"How bad is it looking?" I ask him.

"The worst, yet."

My shoulders slump. "What happened? Has he cleansed?"

He nods. "A few times. But nothing is relieving it. He can't sleep, I don't think he is eating, his mood swings will give you whiplash."

Chewing the inside of my lip, I weigh up my options for the next few days. Do I let him deal with this alone? Or do I dig deep and put everything into getting him out of this shit storm?

"What do I do?" I ask.

"Just be prepared for the hurricane that is due to follow. Things are going to be... Unsettled for the next few days." He tells me.

Zak had been in this situation before, he had brought home an attachment but nothing clung on after a cleansing. Which could only mean that this was as serious as it could get, without a possession of course. I have dealt with a nightmare riddled Zak, but never a sleepless one, hopefully now that he is home, he may just relax enough too sleep...

Releasing my lip from my teeth, I take a breath and plant my hands onto my hip. "I'll speak to his mom, have her run the museum for the next few days. Would you be able to pick Gracie up from her home?"

Bacon nods. "I think having Gracie about will help. Although I can't promise it will."

"I understand, but I have to try." I answer. 

As for right now, I just have to prepare for what follows.

*******

I'm woken by the sound of shattering glass and with a quick pat on the mattress beside me, I summarise that the glass is due to Zak. Wiping sleep from my eyes, I get out of bed and head off to find him.

Standing in a dimly lit kitchen, I find Zak gripping the work top, with glass around his feet. I'm quick to read the room and with his whole body shaking with rage, I decide my best option is to clean up the mess before he does more damage to himself or the glassware.

Grabbing the dustpan and brush, I flick on the light and begin cleaning it up. "Leave it." He growls as I ditch the first pan full.

"Just get yourself a drink." I answer, gathering up the shards.

"I said. Leave. It."

"It's already done."

Taking the pan to the bin, I empty it again and put it away before starting the automatic hoover to go around the kitchen, in case I missed a piece.

Pushing off the side, Zak storms past me, taking his cloud of anger with him, I sigh a small breath and get him a bottle of water from the fridge and head back to bed. Only he hasn't made it as far as the bedroom and is sat in the lounge, in the darkness.

"Here.." I say, placing the bottle down beside him.  I don't get a thank you and honestly, with him in this mood, I don't expect one.

I'm just about to exit the lounge, when a loud explosion goes off at the side of my head and cold water covers me. He threw the bottle.

He threw the bottle at me...

Blowing out a breath from the shock of cold water being throw at me, I straighten my back. "That was a waste. You could have set it on the table."

I get no answer and decide it's time to clean this mess up too. His mood, despite it not being his fault, was beginning to grate on me, but patience was key, so I have to take it in my stride. Collecting the mop bucket and mop from the kitchen, I head back to the lounge, ready to clean it, when I get a response.

"Leave it."

"I can't." I tell him. "It's a danger not to just us, but Gracie too." Swiping the now destroyed bottle off the floor, I turn to put it in the kitchens recycling bin, when I bump into Zak. "Sorry."

"Are you trying to make me angry?" He hisses.

I frown. "Of course not. I just want to clean this up and I'll be out of your way."

"I said leave it."

"Sweetheart-" I'm interrupted as Zak grabs my wrist tightly.

"Is this what you want? For me to hurt you because you can't listen?!" He growls, his grip tightening.

My bones scream in protest, but I try to ignore it. "Zak. Let me go.."

"This is what you want, isn't it?!" His pupils are dilated in the dark, hiding the ice blue that I love to dearly. "Have I got to hurt you? Hmm?"

His lips snarl as he speaks to me, but I refuse to show fear. Lifting my chin, I look at him directly in the eyes, hoping whatever is clouding his mind will lift. I set the bottle down on the side table and place my hand on his.

"Zak.. I know you can hear me. This isn't you. I need you to be stronger than this.."

"You think I'm weak?!" He shouts, pulling my wrist tighter making me whimper. His thumb digs directly into the bone in my arm, sending pain shocks up through my arm. "Is this better?"

"Get. Out. Of him and get your hand off me." I berate, trying to pull my wrist free.

It's useless as his grip is like a deadlock, which leaves me with very few options. Do I allow him to continue doing this and hope my wrist doesn't snap? Or do I fight back?

I'm still weighing up my options when I hear a guttural growl coming from elsewhere in the room. Looking around using the moonlight, I find Gracie stood in the doorway, looking directly at us.

"It's okay, Gray." I say softly, not wanting Zak's rage to turn elsewhere. "He won't hurt me."

"Won't I?" He snaps, twisting my wrist.

I bite down on my lip in pain, as tears fill my eyes. "Zak, let go."

"You think I won't do it? You think I'm weak!"

"This isn't you." I whisper as his hand tightens even more. The pain is almost blinding and I'm about to plead with him again, when I hear a grinding noise from under his hand.

Gracie barks loudly making us both jump. It seems to snap Zak out of his cloudy mood and he shoves my wrist away, leaving me to hold it in pain.

I move away from him instantly and stand beside Gracie as he disappears into the darkness of the house. A few seconds later, the bedroom door slams again.

*****

The next morning, I wake up in the spare bedroom, with Gracie led on one side of the bed. When my eyes finally adjust, I see the chair wedged under the door handle and can't help but frown.

It wasn't him... My mind chimes as a reminder, but when I try to sit up, I hiss in pain from my wrist which has now turned a funny shade of red and purple. Tugging my sleeve down, I hide the bruising and get out of bed, because there's a bigger problem in the house.

Breakfast turns out to be somewhat difficult when your wrist is bruised and by the time I've prepared food, I no longer want it and Zak doesn't show for it. I had used my time to think whilst I made breakfast and today I'd either get Zak to cleanse again, or he could face someone else who knew how to get rid of this attachment. Maybe a shaman or priest?

When Bacon shows up before lunch, I get my answer as he informs me that Zak has rang him to take him to see someone. Finally. But Bacon is quick to notice the shift between us and the bruising on my arm.

"What the fuck is this?" He asks pulling up my sleeve when I pass him his coffee.

"I fell." I lie.

"How? On what?"

"Over the carpet. Landed awkwardly."

"That it leaves fingerprints?" He probes looking at Zak who seems genuinely concerned. I'm about to respond, when he squeezes my wrist lightly but to me, it feels like fire. "You're going to the hospital. Now."

"I'm fine. It's just bruising. Besides, you are busy." I tell him, moving away and back to the other side of the kitchen island.

"Did... Did I do that?" Zak asks in the quietness of the kitchen.

"No." I answer firmly.

"But I was responsible for it. Wasn't I?"

Well how do I answer that?

My lips part but he's out of his seat in an instant which causes me to back up slightly. He stops as his eyes widen.

"You're frightened of me?"

"Not you. But whatever is attached to you... Doesn't like me." I tell him.

He steps back and looks to Bacon for help. The wounded look in his eyes pulls at my heartstrings, but before I can step in and ease this situation, Bacon takes over.

"Let's get you sorted, Bro."

Zak nods and gives me a sorry look before leaving. Bacon pauses by the back door and gives me one last look.

"He's not a bad person.. He would never hurt you."

"I know." I answer.

"You should probably get that wrist checked out too." He nods, before closing the door after him.

When I hear the car leave, I slump at the kitchen island, hoping that wherever he is going works...