Rain pelted down, slowly seeping through SJ's hoodie. Shivers ran down her spine as the wind picked up and thunder rolled through the city sky. It's after midnight, which is far too late to be outside. It's wet and gross and cold. Her body aches and her head hurts. Her throat is sore and her eyes burn with every blink. She can't go home and she doesn't want to go to Mikey and Matty's for the sake of what's left of her sanity.

She's been losing herself for hours, losing track of time and trying to figure out what to do. If she goes home, Travis will be there and she can only hide the bruises in the shape of hands so long. Hoodies only cover so much. He'll know and he cannot know. If she does go to Mikey and Matty's, Matty will freak out, worry and worry constantly, more than he already does. He'll badger for answers SJ doesn't have, and she can't deal with it, not now.

Mikey will lecture and lecture and lecture, repeat everything like a mantra. He'll get on a soapbox about how he's always right and how she shouldn't go places alone. She's strong and can handle herself but she's smaller than a lot of people, Ian being one of them, and he's dangerous. SJ just can't mentally deal with the words of so-called wisdom from her family or friends. That only leaves her with two options.

Continue on and hope police don't take her to a station for "suspicious behavior" or she can make a call. On a list of things SJ doesn't want to do, both of these are pretty high on her list of nopes but the possibility of spending a night in a cold jail cell tops just making the call. Not to mention, at least if he says yes, she'll be warm instead of being left out in the pouring rain.

SJ fumbles with her phone, trying to shield it from the rain that seems to get heavier with every passing second. Her thumb graces over the screen until she finally finds the right contact and puts the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey," SJ says, uncertainty evident in her voice. "I know it's late and super fucking random but..." She pauses as she looks at the sky, the lightning strike catching her attention. "You can say no..." She trails off as her eyes go to her feet, embarrassment already consuming her.

"What's wrong?" Harrison asks.

"Do...do you think, maybe, I could stay with you tonight? It's okay if not, I can deal. I just can't go home," Her voice cracks slightly. "Or go to-"

"Yeah, where are you? I'll come get you." Harrison cuts SJ off and she can already hear him rustling on the other end of the line.

"Spencer's Family Diner," SJ says, looking up at the sign she sees far too often. "The one I work at."

"Are you inside?" Harrison asks and she swears she could hear him whisper in the background.

"No, they're closed." Harrison can barely hear her with the softness of her voice muffled by the downpour of the beading rain.

"Okay," A door shuts on the other end of the phone. "Just stay there. I'm on my way."

"Thanks."

"It's no problem." Harrison states with honesty before the line goes dead, leaving SJ alone with her thoughts once more.

SJ leans against the wall of the diner and slowly sinks down. Her jeans and clothes are already soaked and the rain seems to be intensifying with every passing second. It's a little ironic really. She's had a hell of day and now the rain is icing on the cake. SJ has nowhere to go so she just sits in the rain and can feel herself drowning. She's drowning in the cold and the ache of her chest and guilt and dread. Everything is pulling her down and no one dares to notice because if they do, it might get scary.

Mikey had texted her and asked her where she was. She responded with a simple "where I usually am" and that was it. Matty texted her the same thing a few hours later and she responded the same way. Both boys knowing she'd be better left alone, but for once, just one time, she wished her friends would push a little. It's been a long day and it's storming and she's soaked and wants someone to talk to without having to actually say the words and the only person she can blame is herself. SJ can ask for help, but she won't.

SJ pulls her knees to her chest, tugging the hood of her hoodie over her head before crossing her arms and resting them on her knees. Her head lays on her arms and she waits. She waits and thinks, listening to the rain and distant sounds of sirens. Her eyes close and they burn and she can feel tears brimming and her throat tightening. She wants to go home but she's not even sure where home is anymore.

Fifteen long minutes pass as Tom's fingers tap the center console, his leg bouncing anxiously. It takes fifteen minutes to get to the diner and there's a pounding in Tom's chest and twisting in his gut. All he keeps thinking is that SJ has to be hurt. Something happened and she's hurt, she's hurt and that's why she can't go home or to her friends. Something bad must have happened and she's scared. SJ is headstrong and always seemingly fearless but Tom doesn't buy it and now he's afraid this is going to prove him right.

The diner comes into view and Tom is already reaching for the door handle. In the dim light of streetlights and neon lights, he can see SJ hunched over against the wall as Harrison pulls against the curb. Before Harrison can even put the car in park, Tom is already opening the car door, disregarding it and leaving it open as he rushes to SJ.

His heart plummets to the pit of his stomach as he slows down and kneels in front of her, paying the pouring rain no attention. "Hey," Tom whispers, carefully reaching for her arm as her head shoots up. Her eyes widen like a deer in headlights and Tom gets a look at her red eyes and makeup stained cheeks. "What happened?" He asks and it's rushed but stern with worry. "Are you hurt?" He leans closer to her, hands gently and slowly coming to either side of her face.

SJ doesn't budge. She just stares at Tom in a state of utter shock. She called Harrison, not Tom. And while she wants to know why he's here, she can't bring herself to ask or even be mad. And if she were to just be honest with herself, she's happy Tom is here. But, she is so utterly terrified because he can't know what happened and that's why she called Harrison.

"SJ?" Tom asks, more concern showing in his voice. "Are you hurt?" He enunciates more as if trying to get through to her. She shakes her head, afraid to speak and thankful for the terrible lighting that's surely concealing her neck along with her hoodie. "C'mon, then." Tom removes his hands slowly and moves them to hers, helping SJ to her feet. "You're soaked."

SJ holds onto Tom's calloused hands as she gets to her feet. "So are you." She says, voice slightly hoarse and shallow.

"'S alright." Tom sighs, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, holding her close to him as if that were going to shield her from the pelting rain.

Harrison is quick to open the back door of the car, receiving a thankful glance before Tom helps SJ in the car. Harrison had decided to wait outside the car, letting Tom talk to her first. Sure, she called him, but he knew she needed to see that Tom really cares and worries about her for whatever reason. Him staying back and allowing Tom to handle her, let her see that, it allowed her to see that despite knowing nothing, Tom will show up and he cares. Sometimes, people just need to know someone else cares.

No one exchanges words as Tom follows SJ into the back of the car. There's the lingering thought of Arthur in the back of his head. Arthur could find out about this but for some unknown reason, Tom can't find it in himself to care enough. People don't call other people for help when they have a place to go. People don't sit in the pouring rain in early October for the fun of it. He'll pay for it if Arthur finds out but he couldn't care less at the moment.

SJ shivers beside Tom as Harrison starts the drive to their apartment. Harrison notices in the rearview mirror and turns up the heat while Tom pulls her closer to him. SJ doesn't fight him, instead, she leans into him and allows his arms to engulf her.

His clothes are nearly as wet as hers but he's still warm like a human radiator. And he smells like Woody's but not strong and overpowering, just enough to have a scent. His arms are strong and comforting under the blue hoodie that compliments his skin. SJ's eyes close and he's just so warm and he reminds her of what home used to feel like and she can't help but think of how ironic it is but she says nothing. She stays silent and just lets herself just be, just be in that moment with rain thudding against the roof of the car and streaming down the windows.

The car comes to a stop outside of a massive apartment building. SJ lifts her head from Tom's shoulder as his arms slowly release her. She looks outside as Tom opens the door and, normally, she'd have an off-handed remark about West Loop apartments but not tonight. Tonight, SJ is just happy she doesn't have to go home or face her friends. She'll take the night here.

Tom helps her out of the car and SJ adjusts her hoodie over her head, making sure to tug the strings and try and keep the fabric concealing as much of her neck as possible. Harrison meets them around the front of the car and the three of them make their way into the building. SJ doesn't pay attention to the entrance, keeping her head low and trying to keep her shivering to a minimum.

They get into the elevator and Harrison presses the fifth floor, allowing the metal box to take them up. Tom crosses his arms over himself, his shivering becoming evident as well and SJ feels bad for him even being in the rain just to check on her. She should have been paying attention and just gotten up when the car pulled up but she was lost in her own head, running through scenarios and lies as to how the bruising happened, all of them coming up blank and bullshit.

The elevator doors open and Harrison is the first one out, followed by SJ, and then Tom. The three head to the end of the hall to the last apartment on the right and Harrison unlocks it, allowing all of them inside. The hallway is narrow but short, leading directly into the kitchen.

"I'm gonna get you some clothes, alright?" Harrison says, turning his attention to SJ.

"Thanks." SJ whispers, hands tucking inside the wet pocket of her hoodie.

SJ looks around as Harrison makes his way down the hallway and into the back bedroom. Her eyes scan over the kitchen. There's a marble island with three black chairs, two beers, a half-eaten sandwich. The kitchen connects to the living room, both rooms have floor to ceiling windows that give Tom and Harrison a beautiful view of the city landscape. The apartment is mostly decorated in shades of navy, white, silver, and black. Elegant and modern, yet cozy. It's nice, beautiful, really.

Tom watches SJ look around and he feels a little uneasy based on her first reaction to him. She judged his clothes, his shoes, even his hair product which he still doesn't know how she knew such a tiny detail. So, he can only imagine what she's thinking looking around. But, it's when she walks in the space where the kitchen and living room meet to stand in front of one of the large windows, Tom sees it.

SJ keeps her stare at the windows, watching the rain and lightning as Tom walks closer to her. SJ catches him walking closer and catches where his stare is. Her hands come up and immediately yank the hood closer to her neck, pulling at the strings. He walks to her, steps slow and careful, and lightly pulls at the fabric of her hood still covering her head. SJ freezes and her heart stops as Tom pulls the fabric off of her head, revealing a large blue and purple bruise, an imprint of fingers surrounding her neck.

Tom's brows furrow but her actions don't stop him. He stands in front of her, blocking her view of the city and his heart shatters. With the storm and dim lighting, he didn't see the bruise on the street or in the car, not even in the elevator with him facing forward. But, now, standing in front of her, he's getting a full face view of purple and blue consuming the front of her neck and going to the sides.

SJ dodges his stare, her eyes looking to the side and Tom pulls the hoodie from her neck, revealing the entire bruise. The bruise spreads from a large blotch at the front of her neck into finger-shaped branches all around either side. A lump forms in SJ's throat and her eyes start to burn once more as Tom looks at the damage, horrified. His hands come up and cup her face.

"What happened?" His voice is a gentle whisper.

SJ's eyes meet his and she feels like she could fall and like she can breathe. The constant state of static in her head seems to fade as Tom looks at her like she's more than just someone to dispose of, someone to use until he gets whatever he wants. He looks at her like she's a person, a genuine human being with real feelings and a life outside of a boxing ring. Tom looks at her how she wishes other people would look at her, seeing more than just a trophy, a piece of meat, or a step stool. A person.

She hesitates. She hesitates and tears are so close to falling as Tom's thumbs brush over her cheeks, being patient and waiting for her to be ready to tell him. He wants to know who did this but he won't push and pull because she's like him. SJ won't say anything if she doesn't want to, especially if it's being pulled from her. So, he just cups her face and allows the air to be silent with unspoken words and eye contact.

Tom's damp curls fall onto his forehead and SJ hates that she feels like he's so comfortable and like nothing matters. He feels so safe despite the fact that he isn't. He's involved in horrible things, dangerous things, but with his hands holding her face and gentle eyes patiently waiting, he feels like the safest place on the planet and her heart aches for him.

Harrison walks back, seeing the two of them just standing there and Harrison feels for his friend and SJ. It's all taking place under such unfortunate circumstances because Tom is looking at her like Harrison has never seen him look at anyone before. It's the kind of longing gaze Harrison could swear he'd only ever seen in one of those cliche romance movies but it's certainly the look that speaks volumes. But, while he wishes things were different for the two of them, they're not so he takes step forward.

Harrison clears his throat and SJ quickly backs away from Tom, looking at Harrison. "Uh...here." Harrison sticks out the clothes on his hand.

"Thanks." SJ nods, taking them from him, her face turning a vibrant shade of red. Harrison's eyes catch the darker shade of skin around her neck and his mouth opens slightly but before he gets a chance to ask a single question, SJ cuts him off. "Bathroom?"

"Oh, right." Harrison shakes his head, pointing over his shoulder. "Down the hall, on the left, opposite the bedroom."

SJ nods curtly and makes her way away from the boys. Harrison and Tom watch her disappear around the corner and into the bathroom. They remain silent until they hear the sound of the door shut. Harrison looks back to Tom and Tom shrugs, making his way around the island and to the fridge.

"What...was that?" Harrison asks.

"Dunno." Tom answers. "Looks like someone choked her." His voice is taut but with specks of worry.

"Yeah, saw that." Harrison says, looking to the counter and back to Tom who still had the fridge open.

"What're you gonna do?" Tom mutters, closing the fridge, realizing he was mindlessly looking at the scattered food and beverages on the shelving.

Harrison's brows pull together. "What?"

"She called you." Tom states matter-of-factly. "What're you gonna do?"

"Let her sleep here." Harrison responds. "If it's alright with you."

Tom nods. "Yeah." He says shortly. "I mean, you know." Tom jerks his head and rolls his shoulders.

"Let her talk if she wants, but, mate, I'm not making her tell me what happened but you seemed to be having a moment so why don't you talk to her?" Harrison tries to be the voice of reason.

Tom shakes his head. "Called you." Tom repeats the same phrase, but he's not sounding jealous or even annoyed, his voice remains with worry as if he just wants to know what happened and if she's really okay.

Harrison nods. "She did but she likes you." Harrison reminds Tom.

Tom scoffs. "Doesn't matter."

"Why do you keep saying that?" Harrison asks, rolling his eyes. Tom dodges his stare and licks his lips, going back to the fridge, desperate for some kind of distraction. "Finish your sandwich." Harrison pushes the plate to Tom.

"Arthur told me to stay away from her, the night I went to talk to her." Tom admits.

Harrison groans and he can feel his blood start to boil. "'Course he did, fuckin' bastard." Harrison grits his teeth. "Well, fuck it, yeah? Sit down and have a conversation. He isn't here." Harrison reminds him.

Normally Harrison would be against convincing Tom to do anything that could get him hurt but they're inside their own home and they were already outside on the street with her, even if Arthur is keeping that close of an eye on them. And, if it comes to it, Harrison will find a way to get in front of Tom and stand up to Arthur. Tom doesn't know anything yet, Harrison managing to not say anything of what SJ told him, but he should know and maybe if SJ can talk to him, really talk to him, she'd let Tom in on what's going on.

Tom sighs, pulling out a green bottle containing beer. He looks to Harrison and he seems to be distancing himself but Harrison doesn't get the chance to ask. "If she wants to talk, I'll listen." Tom says.

"Good." Harrison responds, taking the bottle from Tom. He smirks, taking a swig.

"Was gonna drink that." Tom remarks, rolling his eyes and going back to the fridge.

"You have half a bottle." Harrison picks up the bottle beside him, swaying it, causing the contents to swirl.

"It's warm." Tom grumbles and Harrison just laughs, shaking his head.

"Well, dump it at least." Harrison hands him the bottle with a low chuckle before the two hear the bathroom door open.

They immediately stop talking, and Harrison peaks around the corner while Tom dumps the contents of the warm bottle. SJ's hair is tied up in a messy bun, the blue streaks mostly hidden within the black and the bright aqua hoodie Harrison loaned her stands out against the dark blue pajama pants. She looks like she's swimming in his clothes but she looks comfortable, perfectly content, except for the dark bruise peeking out over the pretty blue.

SJ looks up, clothes in hand, and meets Harrison's stare. "Laundry?" She asks. "I'll pay you for the detergent and stuff." SJ rattles off and both boys look at each other in confusion.

"You don't have to pay to wash your clothes." Tom moves from the sink, SJ coming into view as he approaches her. "We've clothes that need to go in anyway."

He gently takes the clothes from her as if she's a fragile porcelain doll. "Thanks, Tom." SJ says and her cheeks are turning the prettiest shade of pink.

"You're welcome." Tom gives her a smile before disappearing down the hallway.

SJ walks into the kitchen area and pulls out the chair beside Harrison, taking a seat. She takes a deep breath and pulls her phone out from the hoodie pocket, sliding away to her messages. Harrison quietly watches her for a few seconds before taking a quick sip of beer and looking to her neck.

"You alright?"

SJ nods, her thumbs typing a message. "Yeah," She says and her voice is croaky. "I-I-I, uh, I-I, fuck," She swears in frustration before taking a deep breath, beyond annoyed with the stutter. "I didn't know....you guys lived together." She whispers.

Harrison just chuckles. "Yeah, kind of left that detail out."

SJ can't help but smile as she rolls her eyes. "How convenient."

Harrison nudges her with his shoulder. "Didn't seem important."

SJ glances at him, shaking her head. "It's not."

"Not mad?" Harrison asks.

"No," She shakes her head simply. "You picked me up in the pouring rain after midnight and then loaned me your clothes and said I could stay here. I'm not mad."

Harrison takes another drink of his beer, SJ watching him but before either of them could say anything else, Tom came walking back in this time in blue plaid pajama pants, similar to the ones SJ is wearing, and a plain white t-shirt. He gives SJ a timid but kind smile that sends her stomach twirling like a ballerina. She returned the smile before focusing her attention on the countertop.

"Why don't we get you something to drink? Eat maybe?" Harrison offers. "And you can tell us what happened?" The question comes off as an offer, not a demand or plea for any answers.

Tom opens the fridge and starts getting another bottle but SJ stops him. "I, uh, I don't drink." SJ bites her lip, seemingly embarrassed over something as small as a beverage making Tom question everything he's assumed about her. Sometimes, headstrong people are just the people who are the most broken and put up a front to keep their pieces from falling apart. "Water, though."

"Right, yeah, yeah, okay."Tom nods, putting the beer back and swapping it out for a water. He slides the bottle to her and she nods as a thank you, grabbing it and twisting at the top, showing the bruising and scabs across a few of her knuckles. "Food?" Tom asks.

SJ shakes her head. "Not hungry." She mutters before taking a small drink of her water, her throat burning as the water goes down. She winces and Tom exchanges a meaningful look with Harrison, wordlessly agreeing to help her.

"C'mon, couch is more comfortable." Harrison jerks his head behind them towards the living room.

SJ gets up and follows Harrison while Tom stays behind to close the blinds to the windows in the kitchen. SJ takes a seat and Harrison works on the blinds around the living room. The TV is playing old episodes of NCIS. SJ pulls her feet up, sitting cross-legged as her phone goes off. She checks it to see it's from Mikey texting her back but all she does is roll her eyes and lock it, shoving it into her pocket. The boys finish closing the blinds and Harrison takes a seat in the chair to the side while Tom takes a seat on the opposite side of the couch.

"So," Harrison breaks the silence. "What happened?"

SJ raises her brows and shakes her head. "Nothing."

Tom's eyes narrow as he huffs, SJ and Harrison turning to him. "You've fingerprints around your neck. I wouldn't call that nothing."

SJ sighs and she hates speaking. "I smarted off to the wrong person and I shouldn't have."

"That's no reason to fuckin' choke someone." Tom blurts out in annoyance. "Don't care what you've done, you shouldn't be choked."

"Yeah..." SJ says, looking away from Tom. "Can't go home because Travis will figure out what I'm doing and he'll just..." SJ hesitates, letting out a breath. "He'll be annoying about it and likely turn me in at this point and I can't go stay with Mikey and Matty because I'll get a lecture from hell and I just can't do it. Not...not tonight."

"Why not?" Harrison asks. "You guys seem about as close as us."

SJ shakes her head and looks to Tom, whose eyes haven't left her. She's reluctant on telling them her backstory. That's all anyone ever wants to hear. The backstory to why people are the way they are, what made people start keeping to themselves. People are addicted to tragedy.

"Guy I owe money to. I smarted off, he got pissed, pinned me to a wall." SJ admits, figuring she might as well give them something. They were nice enough to come and get her, she owes them an explanation.

Tom wants to push for more but it's like he can almost visibly see her getting cement and bricks, building up a wall higher to make sure him and Harrison don't get through it. What happened, whatever this night means, broke her wall down enough for her to call Harrison for help and enough for her to literally lean on Tom. But, minutes pass, time passes, questions get asked and the wall goes right back up only fifteen times stronger. So, Tom doesn't ask anymore and he shoots Harrison a glare, silently warning him not to ask anything.

"Are you okay, though?" Tom asks and there's a glimpse of adoration in his voice.

SJ looks to him and lies through her teeth with the faintest nod Tom has ever seen. "Yeah, always."

Tom nods, opting out of pushing. "Okay," He says, looking to Harrison and back to her. "Should let you sleep, ya? Get you a blanket."

SJ nods softly. "That'd be great."

Tom gets up and Harrison lingers a bit longer. "You really alright?"

SJ looks up, swallowing a lump before biting her lip. "Always." She forces a smile and Harrison just tilts his head.

"I'm the room at the end of the hall, Tom's beside the bathroom if you need either us, alright?" Harrison gets up and walks over to her.

"Okay." SJ says quietly. Harrison lowers his gaze in understanding as he heads out of the living room.

Tom comes back down the hallway and into the living room, handing SJ a pillow and a blanket. He explains he'll be right down the hall if she needs him. She thanks him and he leaves her alone. There seems to be a little bit of reluctance in his steps but he pushes past it, wanting to just give her space.

He wants to stay in the living room with her but he doesn't. He doesn't because he's respecting her personal space and showing her know he's not going to push. It's hard but it's one in the morning and Tom's chest hurts. So, he climbs into bed and gets comfortable, trying to get some sleep.

SJ manages to fall asleep but she wasn't asleep longer than an hour before her heart started pounding and her eyes were squeezing shut and she was shooting up in pure panic. Her breath heaves with every second and her hand goes to her neck. Stinging consumes her eyes and she can feel the tears coming.

Nightmares are scary as they are. Sometimes, they're so real. They're so real that the details are almost sickening, worse than a high budget, blockbuster gore film. Everything feels like it can be touched, there's a physical ache in the person's chest, and just panic streaming through their veins as if a dam had broken. It always seems real but once the person wakes up and starts thinking about it, putting everything together, they come to realize how utterly unrealistic everything was. Every detail, even the ones that seemed to be the most believable, are actually the least truthful. But, those are normal nightmares. So, when SJ is sitting in the living room, almost paralyzed from a nightmare of Ian choking her, it's real. It did happen and she just got to relive it in a dream. The scariest nightmares are the ones that are real and the ones that can't be escaped.

SJ's heart rate slowly starts to come back to normal until she hears a siren in the distance and her heart rate immediately spikes again, causing a tear to fall down her cheek. She swears to herself, frustrated that she's so scared in the unfamiliar living room, that she's scared of something that already happened. She hates being scared and yet she so terrified all the time. Almost all the time.

SJ wipes her eyes before grabbing the blanket and pillow, pulling out her phone to use it as a flashlight and heads down the hallway. She stops in front of the white door and sucks in a harsh breath. Her fist comes up and she knocks but as she's knocking, she questions why she's even bothering because surely, he's asleep. A simple knock won't wake him up. At least, it doesn't wake up most people.

The doorknob turns and SJ's eyes widen in bits of relief and soft fear. The door opens and he looks at her, his eyes filled with sadness. She feels guilty because she swears she woke him up by the sight of his messy curls and she feels stupid for having to do this. But he wasn't sleeping. He couldn't sleep with the gnawing in the pit of his stomach. He tossed and turned but couldn't get quite comfortable or relaxed to fall asleep. But, that doesn't matter because he can see the panic across her face with her eyes glossy and sad. She can't hide her panic or the glossiness of her eyes. SJ can try but she won't be able to and it doesn't matter because he sees through the facade.

"You alright, darlin'?" Tom asks. SJ shakes her head, her lip barely quivering as she tries not to cry. "C'm'ere."