I was shocked when Tommy believed me when I informed him of what had happened that night, and he didn't press the issue further. He wasn't overwhelmingly nice or mean as the weeks went by, but I didn't force the issue. All I wanted was a new normal to take place, one where he would be able to leave my life forever and rot in a jail cell somewhere for all the lives he and his cop buddies had ruined, including mine. I knew that, in order to get such a confession out of him that I had to back him into a corner—or just let him drink too much with his buddies—but I vowed that I would never have to be in another compromising position with him.

Mason had suggested deliberately provoking Tommy, as I'd done that night, because that might lead to a confession, if one of us inadvertently brought up his thoughts. I thought it may work, considering that I was building up my strength, and I was apt to have a sporting chance in a physical fight, if it came to that. I knew I was capable of doing such a thing, and even though it scared me, my overwhelming desire to have him out of my life for good outweighed my fear, so I knew it was entirely possible to do such a thing, on my end.

"Did you hear me?" I asked, raising my voice slightly then, not wanting to come off as too high and mighty, for that might tip the iceberg. I was standing in the kitchen on the first of April, and crossed my fingers that Tommy wouldn't think I was kidding around with him, as I washed the dishes from his breakfast. "Tommy? I said, 'Did you hear me?'"

Tommy sighed, lowering down his phone as he raised his eyes to mine. "Sorry, Murphy. What is it?" he asked.

I fixed a smile onto my face; in the weeks since I'd hit Tommy in the face, which had ultimately sent him to the hospital, I'd stopped biting my lips, which meant that they were nearly healed by now, and forced myself to eat, which meant I'd gained ten pounds. "I'm not going to keep going to that AA meeting across town," I informed him, my voice firm. "I'm going to go back to my old one, with Lip and Brad. I know them, and I'm more comfortable with them."

Tommy sighed. "That one is closer anyway," he said, shrugging as he returned to his breakfast and to his phone. "Do whatever you want."

I growled inwardly, slightly upset that he hadn't taken the bait of me "disobeying" him, but knew that it was good that I'd gotten my way on the matter. Shrugging it off, I made plans to text Lip while I was at work that day, knowing that he would be pleased to spend time with me, despite the unspoken argument between us about me telling Ian what was going on. While I knew that my oldest brother's heart was in the right place, I also knew that more harm than good could come of Ian's knowledge of the goings-on, so it was best if he remained separate from the equation altogether.

I lifted my cheek for Tommy to kiss before he left for work, indicating where I'd put his lunch in the fridge, and continued washing the breakfast dishes. I'd made myself a hardboiled egg and had eaten that to sustain me until lunch, which would be a salad from work. For dinner that evening, Tommy would be having chicken, while I would be eating some as well, with some dried cranberries on the side. In getting myself to eat more over the past week and a half, I'd felt significantly stronger and better on the whole, and I knew that I'd have the energy and strength to continue with this mission, and yet I hoped that it would be over soon.

Once I got to work, I greeted everyone with a spring to my step that hadn't been there in many months, but I didn't force the issue with conversation, and went back into my office, shutting the door quietly. I sat down at my desk, going through the stack of papers I'd left there the night before, and smiled to myself. For the first time in a long time, I wasn't seeing work as an escape from my life; rather, I was merely seeing it as a part of my life once again, and I hoped that such a thought would continue. It became warm in my office soon after I arrived, and I turned around and opened a window, the early spring air filling me with a rare amount of happiness and as I turned back to my desk, I got my phone out of my pocket.

The jailer consented. I will see you Friday, I texted Lip.

Can't wait. I'm sure everyone will be glad to see you, Lip replied.

I placed my phone on top of my desk and leaned back in my desk chair then, staring at the ceiling and finding the calm that hadn't existed within me in such a long time as my eyes grew heavy and shut. Although I had yet to see the light at the end of the tunnel, I was finally under the impression that it existed. I told Mason that I had to be done with this entire operation by June, knowing that Tommy would hold me to the month of our intended wedding if he had anything to say about it. Reluctantly, Mason had agreed, knowing that he had many other resources to go through in order to somehow obtain a confession from Tommy. And even though I might not hold the key to getting the answer he wanted, Mason assured me that, above all things, he would keep my safe, because Nicholas was his best friend, and whether I wanted to believe it or not, he still cared about me, on some level...

"That's a good joke, Mason," I said, swirling the hospital hot chocolate in the paper cup, the night that I'd sent Tommy there.

Mason shook his head. "No joke."

I rolled my eyes. "You're crazy," I said, laughing.

Mason chuckled aloud then, sipping what must've been disgusting, cheap coffee. "My wife's called me worse," he replied.

I blinked, turning to look at him. "Has she?" I asked, knowing full well that Mason seldom mentioned his wife, in his desire to keep work and personal separate, which I respected, although I suspected that Mason should've given Mrs. Crowe more credit.

Mason laughed. "Yeah, she has."

"But still," I said, pointing at him with a grin. "You're crazy."

"Didn't your mother ever tell you that it's impolite to point?"

I felt my lips dragging themselves down then as I shook my head, fixing my eyes on a rather unimaginative watercolor on the opposite wall. "Never had a mother."

"No...?"

I shook my head. "No. My adoptive mother, Tina, was hardly worthy of that title. My biological mother wasn't worthy either, but she died before I found the Gallagher's."

"God, Murphy, I'm sorry..."

I sighed. "Don't be. Left me a note."

"That must've been comforting."

I laughed. "You would think so, if you didn't know what kind of person Monica was."

"Your biological mother?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"What'd she say? In the note?"

I shrugged. "Just that she thought Ian and me were identical, which therefore absolved her of any guilt for putting me up for adoption... She apologized, I guess, if you could call it that..."

"I'm so sorry."

I shook my head, momentarily forgetting the grossness of my drink as I lifted it to my lips again, gagging slightly as I forced myself to swallow it. "Don't be. I feel bad that my siblings had to put up with her at all."

"Hey, Murphy? Can I ask you a question?"

I turned and looked at him. "Yeah. Shoot."

Mason smirked slightly at that as he leaned back in his chair. "I've been wondering, ever since you consented to this mission, if you think you're unlovable..."

I sighed. "It's crossed my mind...more than once..."

He nodded. "And is that why you think I'm crazy?"

"Crazy?" I asked.

"About Nicholas?"

I nodded, lifting the hot chocolate to my lips and puckering my lips as I tasted it—it was watered down too severely and tasted gross. "Yeah, well, I mean... You know..."

"Murphy, you need to know that you're wrong."

"About?"

"About Nicholas's feelings for you," he replied patiently.

I shook my head. "Not wrong. Exactly right..."

"He still cares about you," Mason said gently, and I shook my head, turning away from him in a moment of vulnerability. "Can you just accept that? He thinks about you all the time, and is always asking how you are..."

"Please," I said, cutting across him then as I turned back and faced him. "I don't want to hear this, Mason. I can't."

Mason blinked. "Why?"

"Because I can't stand hearing about people that I've hurt, but love," I said quietly. "It just makes me feel completely unworthy..."

"You shouldn't feel that way, Murphy."

"Yeah?" I asked, leaning back in my chair. "Why?"

"Because you're unnecessarily hurting yourself."

I shook my head at him. "All this hurt is necessary," I replied.

"It's only punishing you, Murphy. You don't need to do this to yourself."

I felt my lips form a flat line then as I tilted my head back onto the wall. "I have to, Mason. This is a bed of my own making, and it's my job to lie in it accordingly..."

. . .

"My name is Murphy, and I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi, Murphy."

"This is my first time back at this meeting," I said, doing my best to stand up straight as I spoke into the microphone to the small crowd of people. "The reason why I haven't been to this meeting in a while is because my fiancée was uncomfortable because my brother actually goes to this meeting. He's easily threatened by people close to me, and so he didn't want me to spend a lot of time with my family members. But, I'm getting closer to a happy medium with him and, hopefully, things will be better in the future, making it easier for me to attend these meetings in a more comfortable environment. Thank you."

"That was a brave share tonight," Lip said, stepping outside to join me in the cool April air, and I smiled as I handed over my cigarette to him.

I shrugged. "It's what Mason recommends I tell people, publicly, anyway," I said. "He knows that you and Fiona know."

"And how's he feel about that?" Lip asked, inhaling deeply.

I sighed. "Well, you know, he says that I have to be sure you won't say anything. He wants to keep me safe, of course, but his first priority is this mission."

"Meaning what, exactly?" Lip asked.

"Meaning that if I end up dead, but we get the necessary information from Tommy, then it all works itself out."

"I thought that was a fucking joke, Murphy," Lip said, his tone hinging somewhere between rage and devastation.

I turned and looked at him. "What?"

Lip shook his head. "You dying. I thought that was all a big joke..."

I sighed, reaching out and squeezing my shoulder. "Nobody wants me to die in this operation, Lip, but of course it could come to that..."

Lip sighed, taking a long drag on the cigarette before handing it back to me. "God, I don't fucking believe this..."

"Believe it," I replied, holding the cigarette between my teeth for a moment before inhaling as hard as I could.

"Jesus Christ—we can't fucking lose you, Murph."

"It's not going to come to that, Lip, I swear."

"But you just said—"

"I said I could die, Lip, not that I was planning on it."

"I think I've heard all the bad things that could come out of this shit," Lip said.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeesh, Lip, for fuck's sake, you're honestly acting as if I haven't almost died before. I've had a pipe bomb blast in my neck. I've been held at gunpoint and shot by a crazy ex-boyfriend. And fucking Tommy beat me to the point where I saw a white light. I escaped death all those times, Lip. What's one more?"

Lip turned and looked at me then, stunned. "A white light?"

I nodded. "Yeah. A white light."

"The shit that everyone says they see before they die?"

I sighed. "Yeah. That thing."

Lip dragged a hand through his hair. "Jesus. I guess I didn't think it was all that serious."

"All of this is serious, Lip. One move from Tommy, and he could fucking kill me. Of course, this would mean life in prison—automatically, if the tapes could somehow get entered into evidence without it being judged prejudicial or entrapment."

"Wait. You think a judge would actually do that?"

I sighed. "If the side representing Tommy has them in their back pocket, yeah."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me right now..."

I shook my head at him. "I'm not kidding, Lip—about any of this. I didn't even need to consider the risks when it came to accepting this challenge from Mason, when I first told him everything about what had been going on with Tommy. He looked slightly surprised, but, like the rest of you, he could sense what had been going on from a mile away..."

"Didn't even need to consider the risks?"

I gave him a small smile then. "Of course not. The kids are with Ian, and my will stipulates that he or Fiona will get them in the event of my death, so they're taken care of, and safe. With Nicholas completely out of the picture now—no matter what the outcome of what happens with Tommy—all I know is, I'm prepared."

"Prepared to die?"

"Yeah, if it comes to that."

Lip shook his head. "You know, that'll never happen."

I scoffed. "Yeah, why?"

"Because I'd never let you die, and Ian would never fucking let you either. Just the thought of anything happening to you drives him over the edge. Even now."

I laughed aloud. "I doubt that, seriously, Lip—"

"No, I mean it," Lip replied, cutting across me, his voice firm, which cut my laughter instantly as I stared up at him.

I raised my eyebrows. "You serious?"

He nodded. "Despite everything, and how pissed he's been at you this past twenty-three months, Murphy, he's still worried as fuck. He fucking loves you—you guys are twins. You can't sever that bond, no matter how hard you've been trying."

I shake my head at him. "I'm not trying to sever shit."

Lip sighed. "I know you're not, Murphy, but try and picture it from his point of view. He's fucking devastated because he's convinced that his twin sister and best friend is being used as a personal punching bag by her significant other. And, let's face it, you are."

I sighed. "I know that. But I can handle it now."

"Because you know it's over?"

I shook my head, stepping closer to him then. "I made a deal with Mason."

"A deal?"

I nodded. "Yeah," I replied. "Basically, I told him that all this shit has to be finished by June, no questions asked."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that even if we haven't gotten the answers we're looking for, I'm free."

Lip looked shocked. "Really?"

I nodded, swallowing slightly then. "Really," I replied. "They'll lock him up for domestic violence and offer him a deal if he confesses to all the shit he's pulled."

Lip shook his head. "Think it'll be enough?"

"You can get good time for domestic violence—"

"I don't mean that," Lip replied. "I mean, can't they torture him?"

I made a face. "He's not a prisoner of war, Lip. There are rules."

Lip scoffed. "Screw rules, Murph! He's almost killed you! You said so!"

"Hey," I said, stepping close to him then and taking ahold of his shoulders. "I am not going to let him kill me—that, I can promise you. And once this shit is over, I'll tell everyone everything—no pulling punches. I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to tell Ian—you can't sever the bond between twins, Lip; you're right about that."

Lip sighed, leaning down then and resting his forehead on mine. "This is so fucked up, Murph. I hope you realize that."

I laughed aloud then, reaching around his neck and resting my arms around it. "I fucking know that, Lip," I said, shutting my eyes for a moment, remembering how to breathe again. "But I'm doing better..."

"I know," Lip replied, putting slight pressure on my shoulders then. "You're starting to gain weight again. I didn't want to bring it up unless you did..."

I laughed again, opening my eyes then and pulling back slightly, but Lip pulled me in for a hug, and I felt comfort in his embrace. "It's okay—you can bring it up," I reply. "It's about ten or so pounds now—closer to where I was, once upon a time..." I broke off then, relaxing in his arms, and allowing myself to feel safe, at least for the moment. "Look, Lip, all I know is, that this has to come to an eventual end. And, I promise, once it does, you can say whatever the fuck you want in the courtroom, if they ask for character witnesses."

"You better believe I'll say whatever the fuck I want," Lip replied, not letting me go. "I want Tommy to rot in jail for life for all the shit he put you through..."

"Well, with your help, that'll be even more possible," I said quietly.

. . .

I did my best to put on a brave face for Easter, two weeks later, knowing that, now that I had Lip in my corner, the day would go far more smoothly. Stepping inside, I was relieved to see that Lip's reports that Allie and Hugo had picked up Iana and the boys to spend the day with them had proved correct, so there would be less drama because of that. Tommy went into the kitchen, where Ian was preparing a ham with V's help that I would somehow have to choke down, and helped himself to a beer. Lip was handling the potatoes, and Debbie was setting the table, while Kev was watching T.V. with Liam and Franny.

"Frank around?" Tommy asked.

"Upstairs," Lip replied, his tone clipped. "He'll probably be down soon."

"You bring the pies?" V asked conversationally, and I nodded, holding onto them.

"Got every flavor Lip said everyone wanted," I replied.

Tommy opened his beer bottle effortlessly, standing in the back corner by the door and sipped it slowly, all the while Ian glared at him, and Tommy, sensibly, decided to ignore it. "Ham looks delicious, V."

V smiled tightly; while she didn't know all that Lip and Fiona knew, she was not a stupid woman, and she firmly stood by the rest of my family in their suspicions against him. "Thank you, Tommy. It should be good."

"Got the pies?" Debbie asked, coming into the kitchen, and I raised my eyebrows, surprised that she was even speaking to me.

"Yeah," I said, showing them to her. "Right here. All baked last night."

"Took her time with those, too," Tommy said, crossing over to me as Debbie considerately took them from me, and put an arm around my shoulders, which still managed to make me jump. "I was about to call some of my buddies to track her down..."

"Don't you—" Ian began.

My eyes immediately flashed to Lip then, who immediately interrupted Ian.

"Ian, careful—don't forget V's maple brown sugar glaze," he said.

Ian glared at Lip. "How could I forget?" he asked, taking a second culinary paintbrush and proceeding to dab at the other side of the ham.

"And my family has arrived!" Frank boomed then, entering the kitchen. "Tommy, my body—oh, already helped yourself to a beer, I see," he said, sashaying over to the fridge and getting one for himself. "Let's join the men folk, and Franny, by watching the game!"

"Don't need to tell me twice!" Tommy said, and clapped Frank on the back as they made their way in the living room.

"How can you stand it?" Debbie hissed.

Ian shook his head. "I don't."

"That goes for me, too," V put in.

"Cool it, all of you," Lip said immediately. "Just trust Murphy in this, please. She knows what she's doing."

"Dude, I'm right here," I said, crossing my arms. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I can speak for myself, you know."

"If that were the case, you wouldn't be in this shit!" Ian hissed.

"Shut up," I said, immediately looking towards the living room, but was relieved to see that Tommy was fully absorbed in the game. "All of you. I know you love and care about me and I'm fucking grateful for it, because I love you guys, too. But can't we just have one holiday get-together where we don't raise our fists to solve a problem? Please?"

"Baby!" Tommy called out from the living room, and I fixed a smile on my face before I turned over to look at him.

"Yeah, Tommy?" I asked.

"Need another one," he said, waving the now-empty beer bottle at me.

"Me, too!" Frank called, his voice a merry song.

"Coming right up, guys," I said, fetching four bottles from the fridge, knowing that they could easily go through two quickly. I stepped into the living room, holding out the two bottles for each of them.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Frank said.

I nodded. "Sure, Frank. No problem."

"Two for the price of one!" Tommy cried out then, already buzzed, thanks to the two beers he'd had before we left the house.

As I turned away then, Tommy reached out and smacked my ass, hard, and I let out a small yelp of surprise and slight pain, as I did my best not to overtly comment on it as I stumbled back into the kitchen.

"I need some air," Ian said, dropping the paintbrush and heading outside.

"Jesus," I muttered, heading outside after him. "Ian," I said, going down the stairs two at a time and grabbing ahold of his shoulder, which he promptly yanked out of my grip. "For fuck's sake, it's fucking Easter. Can you just not—?"

"No, Murphy, can you just not?!" he demanded, whirling around to face me, his eyes filled with hurt and pain.

I doubled back then, shocked at his expression. "Ian—"

"No," Ian said, shaking his head and turning away from me.

"Ian, please," I said then, my voice gentle. "I'm not going anywhere, that I can promise you. I know that this all looks really bad, but you need to understand that I've got a good reason. I wouldn't subject myself to all this if it wasn't for a good reason..."

"You shouldn't be subjecting yourself to this at all," Ian said through his teeth. "I don't give a fuck what the reason is, Murphy—Tommy has no right to treat you like this."

I shook my head at him. "Ian, please—"

"Murph, come the fuck on!" he shouted at me, and I deliberately looked away from him—I could no longer take the hurt and pain in his expression or his voice. "He's fucking beating you! Tell me he's beating you! Tell me!"

"Don't!" I said, turning to look at him then, my voice trembling. "I need you to stop with all your fucking suspicions, Ian, please! There are things at play at here that you can't fucking understand, and I need you to trust me here! I know I ask you for a whole hell of a lot, but you need to know that I wouldn't do this if it weren't absolutely necessary! I'm just asking you to trust me here, please," I begged him, and, at the moment our eyes locked, I could sense something pass through us then, and Ian was literally telling me that he could feel my pain, whenever Tommy put his hands on me. "Ian..."

Ian shook his head at me. "I know you must have a good reason," he said quietly, "I know that, deep down. But... Lip fucking knows, right?"

I sighed, my shoulders dropping then. "Yeah," I replied. "Lip knows..."

"Jesus," Ian whispered, dragging his hands through his head. "Who else fucking knows?"

"Fiona," I said quietly.

"For fuck's sake," Ian said, shaking his head at me. "If they fucking know, why can't you fucking tell me, too?"

I shook my head at him. "You know why..."

"Obviously, I don't, Murph. Otherwise, I wouldn't be fucking asking you."

"Because you're too important to me," I said then, my voice trembling. "You're too important, Ian, and I know goddamn well that if you knew the truth that you'd..."

"I'd what?"

"That you'd do something fucking stupid, like get yourself thrown in jail," I said, shaking my head at him, hating myself for telling him this. "I won't let you do that, not for me. Not after all the shit I've pulled..."

"Murph, do you think I give a fuck about all that?" he demanded. "Because I don't! You could pull anything, do anything, and it wouldn't fucking matter to me! And do you know why? It's because you're fucking family, and we all fucking love you!"

I sighed, shaking my head. "Ian, I'm sorry," I whispered, knowing that I needed to say something—anything—even if it was the truth. The time had come and, perhaps, he would forgive me for keeping my mouth shut about it. "You see, the truth is—"

"There you are!" came a shout from behind us then.

Turning, I saw Tommy doing his best to stumble down the stairs towards us, Lip immediately exiting the house and following him. I remained where I was, standing near Ian, unknowing as to what Tommy would do, drunk like this. I'd seen him drunk before, there was no question, but all those times, we'd been alone. I wondered if, now, that we were surrounded by my brothers, if the rules were now different...

"Tommy," I said, finally forcing myself to step towards him. "You okay?"

Tommy stumbled towards me then, taking ahold of my wrist without hesitation and dragging me towards him, so that I was plastered, lengthwise against him. "What have you been doing out here, Murphy?" he asked me then, my nostrils filling with the scent of alcohol, his speech slurred. "You haven't been telling secrets, now have you?"

I shook my head at him, fully aware of Ian's eyes boring into my back. "No, Tommy. Of course not...but you're crushing me..."

"With love," Tommy said, letting out a burst of laughter then, making no moves to release me from his grip. "Just crushing you with love, pretty Murphy..."

I laughed sarcastically then, and attempting to get out of his grip. "Yeah, yeah," I said, trying to keep my cool. "Okay, Tommy..."

"Trying to get away, are we?" he asked, laughing again, but I could detect the anger, hidden behind his eyes then as he yanked me towards him again, leaning down to kiss me. His lips tasted of alcohol, and although I did my best to keep them firmly closed, Tommy forced his tongue between them, and I did my best to push against him.

"Tommy!" I cried out then, swinging my head back, just out of his reach, staring up at him, my eyes pleading. "Don't do that!"

Tommy glared at me then, the happiness of his drunkenness gone, and although I could sense the discomfort from Lip and Ian—as well as myself—I knew that it would've been better, for me, at least, if I'd continued to attempt to play nice. "You don't get to tell to stop, Murphy," he growled then, crushing me against him to hard that I cried out. "That's not part of this."

"Hey!" Ian shouted then, stepping forward, only stopping when Lip shot him a look.

"I wouldn't want to have to punish you on Easter of all times, Murphy, especially in front of your brothers," Tommy said, a dark chuckle escaping his lips, likely from drunkenness. "I wouldn't want to spill your pretty blood all over the pavement..."

"Tommy, don't," I said, my voice trembling as I struggled against him at full-force then—he hadn't beaten me to a pulp since I'd refused to get my tattoo on my chest removed, and I wasn't about to let it happen again. "Tommy, let go. Come on. Go and walk it off, or sleep it off, or something, I don't care. Just let me go, and stop making shit up—"

"I'm not making shit up," Tommy growled down at me then, his nails digging into my back, which caused tears to fill my eyes. "Not like you did when you told the cops that I passed out drunk and knocked my head into the table. I could've told them what happened that night, that you fucking hit me, when all I was doing was taking what was mine—"

"Tommy, stop it," I said, proceeding to thrash against him. "Let me go, now—"

"But, I didn't, because who would believe that a decorated cop would just sit by and let his little fiancée beat on him?" he asked me. "Of course, some people would think I deserved it, based on all the shit I put you through..."

"Tommy," I begged, trying to pull away. "Stop..."

"You don't even love me," he said, still digging his fingers into my back. "I know you used to love me, Murphy, I know you did. But you never say it..."

I swallowed the bile that threatened to creep up my throat then. "Tommy, don't say things like that, please. You're drunk..."

"Don't tell me I'm drunk!" he shouted. "Never say that to me, Murphy! Ever!"

"Tommy, please," I said, trying to turn submissive on him, in an effort to get him to stop this. "I am literally begging you, let me go and stop this..."

"Tell me you love me, Murphy."

I shook my head at him. "Tommy—"

"Tell me you love me!" he shouted. "Fucking tell me!"

"Tommy!" I yelled, pushing against his rather beefy frame. "Let me go and I'll say it! Just let go of me, please!"

"I'm not letting you go," Tommy growled, crushing my arms in his grip. "If I let you go, you'll leave me, I know you will!"

"Tommy, you're being crazy—"

Tommy smacked me full across the face then, releasing me as he did so. "Don't you ever call me crazy, you fucking—"

I was suddenly aware that Tommy wasn't speaking anymore, and when I finally trusted myself to look up, I saw that Ian had tackled Tommy, and was slamming his fists repeatedly into his face, and I screamed then, shooting to my feet. "Ian! Get off of him!" I yelled. "Lip! Get him off of him!" I cried out.

Lip hesitated for a moment, looking as if he wanted more than anything to join Ian in a beatdown of Tommy, but finally saw through the red. He dove into the fray then, yanking Ian off of Tommy and holding him against him. "Chill," he said, gripping onto Ian as Tommy lay there, bleeding, on the back lawn. "You need to chill, Ian. You need to chill."

"Tommy," I said, crawling over to him and carefully moving him onto his back. "Tommy, you need to turn over so you don't choke..."

"I know what to do," Tommy sputtered then, spitting out blood onto the grass.

I looked up then, my cheek still inflamed from Tommy smack, and slowly got to my feet. "Let him go, Lip," I said, and hesitantly walked towards Ian. "Ian..." I said.

Ian yanked away from Lip then, glaring at me. "Please tell me this is as bad as its gotten," he said, his voice begging.

I sighed, knowing that I owed him something. "I can't tell you that."

Ian dragged a blooded hand through his hair. "Can't or won't?"

"Ian..."

"Guess I have my answer, then," Ian replied, shaking his head as he stalked past Lip, up the stairs, and back into the house.