"I'm telling you I'm not ready, okay? Why can't you respect that?" Cam was trying really hard not to yell, and not having much success.

"But I don't think you'll ever really be ready, you know? I think if we wait until you feel 'ready,' we'll never get out of here, that's all I'm saying," Penny responded. She, too, was trying not to yell, and she, too, was not being very successful.

"I think," she continued, striving to lower her voice, "I think that you need to just make up your mind to do it. I'll be with you, right next to you the whole time, and we'll go when it's not crowded. Besides, this is New York, no one really looks at anyone unless they're directly involved."

"Not true, and you know it," Cam answered dourly, stroking C-Chan, who was purring in his lap. "Look, what's the big deal? Why do I have to start therapy right now? What's wrong with waiting until next month?"

"Because that's what you said last month," Penny returned evenly. "And what's to stop you next month from just saying 'next month' again? I think you're getting scared to leave the apartment, Cam."

It was a cold night in March. Spring had officially begun, but only on the calendar. There was still snow on the ground, and it was still dark by 6:00 PM.

"What are you talking about? I leave the apartment all the time!"

"In the middle of the night, when no one's around, to run to the market to buy milk and bread and then run home? That doesn't count, Cameron, and you know it!"

"Well, if you don't like how I live my life, you know where the door is, don't you?"

Penny sighed. Always it came to this.

She sat down and bit her lips together, looking carefully at Cam where he sat in the opposite chair, holding a whiskey sour.

"You always tease me about me and my wine, but isn't it a little early for that?" Penny asked, keeping her voice carefully light as she gestured toward the drink in his hand.

Cam looked at her and very deliberately tossed off the drink before setting the heavy glass down with a thunk on the marble coffee table.

Penny could tell it wasn't his first by how his scars were glowing redly in his face.

She sighed.

She knew she could find a therapist to come to their loft for sessions, but she also knew it was important for Cam to make the crucial step of leaving their home and going out into the world, of feeling like he could. He was fast becoming a shut-in, the fact of his leaving every few nights notwithstanding. Scurrying out to the local market in the dead of night for staples with his scarf wrapped around his head hardly counted as getting out in the world, did it?

"Did you hear that the play closed?" Cam asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

"Yes, I did," Penny answered. "I was hoping that you hadn't, though."

"Why?"

"Well, it's kind of a bummer, and your life is enough of a bummer right now, I think, that's all. Who was in such a hurry to tell you?"

"Got a text from Timmy."

"Thanks so much, Timmy. Did he tell you why?"

Cam shrugged as he walked over to the bar to pour himself another drink. "I suppose once the novelty of it being a new show wore off, people didn't want to see understudies, that's all. The appeal, the draw, was you and me, right? Broadway's shiny new star along with her prince turned model turned actor love interest? I get that. The buzz was all about us, you and me, and once we were no longer associated with the production, the buzz was gone."

He returned with his fresh drink and sat down again. "I feel bad for Donna and Gilbert, though. They were really good, and worked their arses off as our understudies to make the show work."

Penny nodded. "I know. Their reviews were good, too. But there's nothing to be done if people just don't come. The shows were sellouts from when we were still cast, but the seats were just empty, from about the end of January onward, I think they said."

She watched Cameron drink what was probably his third whiskey sour of the afternoon, and rose to get herself a glass of wine, just for something to do. She knew it made no sense for her to drink because she couldn't stand to see her estranged boyfriend drinking, but she didn't know what else to do.

"See?" Cam said when he saw her returning with a glass of Pinot Grigio. "What's good for the goose is good for the gander, I say. Or the other way round, in this case." He hoisted his glass in a toast, letting a little bit slosh over onto his hand. He licked it off before taking another sip.

"Cam, back to what we were talking about before," Penny tried. Maybe the liquor would weaken his will. "The therapist?" she prodded at his blank look. "Could we please try to go this month? I could make an appointment for us for this week, I bet. It could be the last appointment of the day, we wouldn't have to walk into an office full of lots of people, I promise."

Cameron sighed, blinking his good eye. The alcohol made his left eye droop even more. "Sod it, you're not going to shut up until I agree, are you? Fine," he responded without waiting for a reply. "Just please make it someplace close, yeah?"

"Yeah," Penny replied, careful to keep her voice even and not let her elation show.

And that was how they ended up at Dr. Baumgartner's office three days later at 5:30, sitting in a deserted waiting room.

"Penelope, I think this was a mistake," Cameron said, half rising from his seat. "Let's go, okay?"

"No, Cam, we need this, please, just relax, please," Penny implored, pulling him back down into his chair.

They were shown in minutes later to an austere office by Dr. Baumgartner herself, a young woman with pretty auburn hair.

"Thank you for agreeing to see us on such short notice," Penny said, shaking her hand. "I know how in demand you are, how busy your practice is--"

"I know what happened to you, of course, as it was all over the news," the doctor responded, gesturing toward two chairs. "I've also read your files, so I'm up to speed on your history, as it were, so we can start right away with the talking portion of our sessions, and not spend too much time on review.

"Now, before I ask my questions, is there anything you'd like to tell me, anything specific you'd like for me to know?"

"I'm not a huge proponent of therapy per se," Cameron spoke up, and Penny could tell, even with the scar running through his lip, that there was a bit of a smirk on his face. "I don't know how much good it can do me if I don't believe in it, you know? I mean, is it like hypnosis, where the person has to believe in it for it to work?"

"Not necessarily," the doctor replied. "Of course it will do most good if the parties involved are motivated to help themselves and all that, but it's more like quitting smoking. The fact that you admit you want to quit smoking is the important thing; that is to say, the fact that you're here shows that you want to be here a little bit, you understand?"

She looked back and forth between Penny and Cam.

"So we'll go from there, if that's okay?"

Penny nodded, and reluctantly, so did Cameron.

"Okay, then, tell me, please, why you're here?"

Cameron just stared at her. "What kind of bollocks question is that?" He gestured angrily at his face. "Just look at me, my face looks like it's been through a Mixmaster and put back together again, that's why we're here! Obviously I need help dealing with that fact, and the fact that everyone who sees me runs screaming for the hills when they do!"

"Cam, shh, she's only trying to help," Penny pleaded, putting a hand on his arm.

"No, I will not be quiet!" Cam retorted. "She's supposed to be trying to help us, not trying to get a rise out of us!"

"Cameron! Please!"

Dr. Baumgartner merely sat and watched this exchange from her desk, waiting for things to calm down. "Now I'm curious, Cameron, why did you think I was trying to rile you or get a rise out of you, as you said? You're paying me to help you, as you know. I'm not likely to try to upset you on purpose, am I?" she asked when Cam had finally settled down.

Cam took a deep breath and looked around the office. "I don't know," he finally answered. "Just seemed like an odd question is all, coming from a doctor to someone who looks like me, who's been through what I've been though, yeah? I mean, it should be perfectly obvious why we're here, I should think."

"But it might be possible that you were adjusting and dealing very well with your situation, and that Ms. Patrick, Penelope, is the one who's having a hard time dealing with your current circumstances, could it not?" Dr. Baumgartner suggested, gesturing toward Penny.

"You were a model before this, correct?"

Cam nodded.

"I know that sometimes models can develop an unusual sort of objectivity toward their looks, where they almost separate from their appearance and feel like it's someone else they see in the mirror," Dr. Baumgartner explained. "I have of course had aging models cry over losing their looks, but I've also had models who've gained weight or lost their looks in other ways simply not care at all, who felt like they'd simply been wearing one outfit and had swapped it out for another, more comfortable one. You could've been one of those, right? How was I to know?"

Cam merely shrugged and didn't respond.

"What is it that concerns you, Cameron? That people are going to see your face and run for the hills, as you said?" the doctor prodded.

Cam shrugged again, looking down at his lap.

The doctor tried asking other questions, phrasing them different ways, but he wouldn't speak for the rest of the session.

Penny, for her part, spoke to the doctor and answered questions, but left the session feeling frustrated and bad, knowing that Cam probably wouldn't want to go back again.

At least it was dark on their way home and the cab driver couldn't see his face and therefore didn't ask any embarrassing questions.

And when it was time for bed, Cam, who was still asking to sleep alone, tonight held on to Penny's hand and pulled her into bed with him.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

He nodded. "I don't--I don't want to do anything," he whispered. "I just don't want to be alone. Is that okay? I know I've been treating you like shite, and I don't blame you if you don't want to be here with me--"

In response, she flipped back her side of the comforter as he moved over, and she slid into bed next to him.

"Could we just hold each other?"

"Of course, Cam. Of course."

He let out a shuddering breath as she tucked his head carefully into the hollow of her neck.

"This doesn't hurt, does it?" she asked as she stroked his hair, which had grown out long enough to touch his shoulder blades.

He shook his head, reveling in the nearness of her, her warmth, her fragrance.

Penny noticed a softness to his body that he hadn't had before, a vulnerability, and she loved him more for it.

They remained that way for the rest of the night.