He only tripped twice on his run to her house. Sherrie's last words of question were punctuating in his mind the farther he ran, her annoyed tone ringing in his ears. He couldn't stop to explain, as Travis could be back from the police station any minute. The night before, Travis had been called and informed of his and Hannah's current situation, and wasn't too happy when he arrived. Without a car of his own, he asked the friend he stayed with that night to drop him off and pick up the two in custody. Being as early as it was didn't lessen his dark mood when he found out his car had been stolen by two people he wasn't a huge fan of. Angus was kicked out of the car a block away from the house, and Travis and Hannah were let off at the gate. Travis' friend drove home through the dark, Angus forced to walk back to his hotel without a goodbye. Sherrie was asleep when he got there. He slept on the couch that night anyway.

The car had been kept at the station the whole morning for further investigation. Travis called to find out where it was and he practically threw the phone down when he was notified about the delay. Hannah kept to herself, staying in her room, and not bothering to join him for breakfast. Most of it was already gone anyway. Rather she stayed by her piano, pressing the keys to find new combinations of sound that didn't offend the ear.

Malcolm had been asleep when Angus rang him last night, another bottle empty. A glass of water had been filled and emptied more times than he bothered to count, and finally he allowed himself one small drink. The next morning he woke up hangover free, and considered checking on Angus to see if he was going to Hannah's place. When Sherrie reported Angus gone, and that he wouldn't be back for another several hours, Malcolm took to the streets and explored, getting out of his room for a while.

Getting out of his bad habit for a while.

Angus' jacket got stuck in the gate as he nearly knocked it down opening it. His fingers gripped the material and worked it around the metal but it wouldn't come out. Deciding he liked his jacket in one piece, he took it off and left it there to be fixed later. The garage was wide open and empty, Angus figuring the door to the house to be unlocked. He was right, and he closed it quietly behind him.

The house was a mess. Still attractive to the eye, but bits of clutter strewn about the floor and tables. Expired newspapers on the coffee table, articles of old laundry in the living room, and several dirty dishes in the sink. It hadn't been like this when he came to visit a few weeks ago, what had happened while he was away? Angus glanced at the newspapers and saw one headline: 'Military Loses One After Regulations Demolished.' He frowned. The picture was smeared at the corners with a giant hole right through the middle, the edges black and bent. A second pile of papers was beside it, columns of numbers jumping out at him. Angus picked one up.

One sheet had prices next to dates written on it, each day the prices higher and higher, crowded with negative signs. The other sheet had another list of numbers, this one going lower and lower, without any negatives. He set them back down and walked out of the living room to where the music was coming from.

Music? How long had that been playing?

A piano song came from the hallway, from the back rooms. On a normal day, he would wait to be invited down there, rather than take it upon himself to investigate. But this was not a normal day, and ordinary people did not live in this house.

He passed the first few rooms, then turned around. The second door, one whose access had not been granted before, was now open a slight way, and music seeped from the room within. Pushing the door open wider, he could not help but believe the owner was a rather busy beaver. It was not at all tidy, with works of art propped up by anything else in the room, and crumpled papers lying beside a filled waste basket. There the girl was, the girl he came to see. Her fingerprints textured the keys, stained with the pains of time, leaving a score of hills and valleys. She didn't see him, and he left the door open the same way he found it behind him.

The melody was soft, with a touch of minor key. Sad. Angus walked closer to the piano, gazing around at the various paintings and drawings around the room. He tripped, and looked down to see a pillow atop a sleeping bag. Another look around the room showed him there was no real bed. But perhaps that bed in the other room...he shuddered to think Hannah and Travis shared a bed.

Hannah slept here, on the floor. He didn't know what to think about that. He only knew he really hated the owner of that other bed.

His stumble caught Hannah's attention, and she looked up at him without ceasing the song. She looked shocked to see him where he probably wasn't supposed to be. He gave her a smile, and lifted his hand. She kept hers busy, and looked down again. Standing beside the bench she was sitting on, he gestured to it. "May I?"

Hannah looked at his hand, then scooted over to make space on the small bench. Angus gladly took a seat, and watched her play. She wasn't perfect; she'd miss a note once in a while, or play the wrong one. But Angus would catch the smallest hint of a smile on her face when she fixed her mistake. Once she got a note so wrong she had to try all the surrounding keys to find what sounded right. Angus watched her, then used his own finger to press down the key she was looking for. Giving him a look of thanks, she continued her song.

Watching her fingers dance over the ivory, he noticed her sweater sleeve pulled away from her wrists they so often liked to cover. What he could see was white, very white. Nothing that looked like it could have ever touched the Aussie sunshine. He could also see it was thin, as if his fingers could wrap easily around her wrist and snap it. Hannah reached up to turn the page in the booklet on the stand, and the large sleeve rolled down an inch. Amidst the cloud of white was a patch of black smoke.

Her hand came back to rest on the piano with its twin. Hardly knowing what he was doing he reached out and touched her hand, her playing slowing down. Hannah watched him, his fingers sliding up under the sleeve and pulling it back. The playing stopped completely.

Her arm was like a domino, nearly perfect circles of black and grey burns peppering it. Some were almost healed, a few near her wrist were fresh as he'd ever seen. Without thinking he ran his fingers over them, a look of horror on his face. "Hannah...what...what are these-"

"Get out!" Her arm was suddenly out of his grip, and Hannah was no longer sitting next to him. Her face was red, with two wet eyes looking anywhere but him. Angus stood from the bench and took a hold of her shoulders. His voice came back full force.

"What's he doing to you? Hannah, what's he doing to you?" Her struggling was a lot to put up with, even without avoiding grabbing her arms in case the burns still stung. She gave him her best, even kicking his leg a few times to break his stance. "Hannah, stop!"

"Leave me alone!"

"I came to apologize! Hold still-shhh, I jus' came to apologize!" Hannah backed herself into the wall and turned her head away from Angus who tried desperately to look into her eyes, no matter how they might break his heart. His company was obviously not wanted anymore. Taking her hands in his and gripping them tight he held them against her chest, taking away her ability to swing at him. "Hannah, look at me-"

"Get out!" Her voice was strained beyond its limits, and he knew she'd be sore the next day. Anger at Travis burned inside him, giving him all the energy he needed to keep his friend calm. Yet nor was she willing to give up.

She pulled her hands loose and turned her body away from Angus, hoping to give him the message of stepping back. Her frame was only grabbed and pried from the wall to face him again. "I'm sorry about the car, I never should have taken it-"

"Let go!"

"What did he do to you?" Angus was glad her sweater sleeves refused to leave her hands. He couldn't bear to see his marks on her arms, marks full of hatred and none out of love. Marks that resulted from pain. Pain he caused. Exhaustion seemed to wear down on Hannah finally, and her struggling decreased greatly giving Angus a chance to bring her face to meet his. "Hannah, what's he doing to you?!"

He had never seen those hazel eyes so full of hatred. Hatred that had been bottled up for so long only to be taken out at the wrong person. In an instant he was standing a foot away from her, her voice stretched to its maximum volume. "Stay away from me!"

Angus could only look at her. She was shaking, badly. Her face was soaked, strands of hair getting stuck to her cheeks and lips. Both arms were crossed over her chest, holding herself tightly against the wall. His own heart was racing, his mind blank and his hands clenched. The idea of smacking himself for being so clueless crossed his mind more than once; he should have known from the start. Everything was laid out in front of him, a puzzle completed for his brain because he couldn't do it himself. He felt like an ignorant child, one with whom any teacher would get frustrated with. He was frustrated with himself. "Hannah..." he breathed. She lifted her head to gaze up at him, his eyes getting wet themselves. Reaching a hand out to her face, he swallowed. "Hannah, I can't-"

"Get out!" The pillow was under his feet again as he tripped over it, Hannah right behind him. The force of her pushing was stronger than he was anticipating, but he refused to push her back. Papers were stepped on as he was escorted out of her room, painting canvases knocked to the floor face down. He knelt down to pick one up when he was pushed again out the door.

"Hannah, please-"

"Leave me alone!" He couldn't stop the door from slamming and locking in his face, and he couldn't stop his fist from banging on it.

"Open the door! What did Travis do to you? Open the door!" The wood stayed shut, and he gripped one hand on the doorknob in case she should change her mind. A boulder could not have been more stubborn. Keeping his swelling anger locked up for the man, or the monster of the house, he took in all the air he could, and exhaled painfully. "Hannah?" His voice quieted down immensely. She still didn't answer. "Please...please open the door."

The door stayed shut.

Angus didn't know how long he stood there. He didn't know what time it was or where his brother was. He didn't hear the garage door open and close, and he barely caught side of the shadow at the end of the hall.

A shadow nearly six feet tall.

"Angus..." his voice said, smooth as glass. Angus closed his eyes and his grip on the doorknob. The shadow walked closer to him, with an ugly figure attached to it. His hands were in the pockets of his jeans, his coat buttoned to the last one. His stride was slow, and his gaze was hard. The man stood there, staring down at the childhood friend of the woman behind the door. "...what a surprise."

"I shouldn't be," Angus muttered, keeping his eyes shut tight. He didn't want to look at him, didn't want anything to do with him. But if standing there kept the room blocked, he'd handcuff himself there.

"You have an appointment?"

"I'm here to see a friend." Travis laughed to himself, fucking laughed, as Angus finally opened his eyes. He couldn't hold back. "You're nothin' but a prick."

"What have I done to you to receive such a cold welcome in my own home?"

"You're a bastard! A damn son of a bitch, that's what you've done! My friend is in there crying, and hurt, and it's all because of you!" Angus voice cracked as well as his knuckles. Travis reached a hand for the doorknob when Angus roughly pushed him away. "Get away from her!"

"So you saw nothing more than what she deserved, is that all?" Travis asked, holding his hand away from Angus as if he were an infected dog. "Discipline, Mister Angus, is what this world needs to control little scoundrels like you."

"You fuckin' bastard!" Angus fought to keep down the pain in his other hand as he punched the door. "She doesn't deserve any of this, she's not yours to control! You're fuckin' hurting her, you're hurting her!"

"And you aren't?" Travis folding his hands together, keeping a calm attitude compared to the raging shorter man. "Running around with every girl on the street while she's stuck here with me? You think I like having her here?"

"Let her stay with me if you don't want her, why do you gotta hurt her like this?"

"Seems you already have some company, Angus." The s in his name was drawn out like a snake. Travis's shadow looked exactly like one. "One who doesn't like all the attention she's not getting, the attention that's going to Hannah instead. Oh, but wait a minute!" He put a hand to his chin and searched the ceiling for the answer to some ancient script. Angus' breathing was out of his control, and it came out ragged and heavy. "All that attention is going to your friend over here, and you couldn't even figure it out that she wasn't happy here."

"No one who crosses your path is ever happy, Travis," Angus spat. "A dead man could have guessed that."

"But why the sudden shock when you took a look at her arms? Hmm? Are we so wrapped up in the wrong romance that we tune out what we don't want to hear? What we don't want to deal with?"

"Shut the fuck up!" The only sounds in the entire house were the yelling between the men, and Angus' respiration. No more music played behind the door, no sound at all from the girl Angus so desperately wanted out of that house. Travis put a hand to his mouth and faced the door.

"Hannah? Your guardian's home! I'll have this bothersome vermin out of here soon, he won't bother you anymore!" Angus released the doorknob and kept his fist right by his side, ready to use it. Giving Angus a grin, Travis added, "He's got quite a mouth on him, doesn't he sweetheart?"

His heart ripped itself in two. "I've only tried to help her, to apologize, to keep her busy from you always yellin' at her! You don't deserve to live in the same house as her, to even talk to her! You want I should stick a cigarette into your arm?" Angus wouldn't do it, they both knew that. But Travis couldn't escape without a threat. Time seemed to no longer exist in the little Oregon house. A year could have gone by and Angus would never have even noticed. Keeping his breathing at a slightly less than healthy rate, he continued. "And she's not your sweetheart, she's mine."

Travis laughed again and nodded towards the door. "Does she know that?"

Angus' face grew hot, realizing she must have heard what he said through the door. "I just meant-I meant she's my friend." His voice was embarrassingly quiet now as he tried to douse his true feelings. "I know her better than anyone."

"Doesn't look like it."

"How do you know I won't call the cops for what you've done?" Staring up at the man he hated for so long without knowing what the reason was gave him some kind of pain. He couldn't describe it. His stomach twisted and felt nauseous, and throwing up on Travis would not have been the worst he wanted to do to him right then. The taller man stood there as if he hadn't been just threatened to be taken to prison. "For what you're doin' to her?"

"I could call them too," Travis shot back. "for breaking and entering. Or how about stealing my car? Driving without a license?" He nodded toward the door now almost two feet away from the men. Angus' protectiveness showed through his shoe patterns still engraved on the carpet where he once stood. "Hannah's a witness."

"She's the victim under your hand!" Travis could feel Angus' breath as he nearly jumped up to meet his face and yell at it. "An' she'd never go against me." Travis grinned.

"Then why aren't you behind this door with her?" With no answer, Travis stood aside to let Angus pass. His voice remained the quiet, unshattered piece of glass that cut through the rest of the world's skin. Through Angus' skin. "I suggest you leave before that threat becomes your future."

Turning away from his face, Angus stepped back to the door and knocked on it. "Hannah? I'll come back. I'm comin' back, okay?" Instantly the door was out of his reach, his arm burning under the grasp of the monster dragging him out of the hallway, away from his friend, from his dear friend. He didn't stop struggling until he was out the front door. "He won't hurt you anymore, I promise! He can't hide it forever!"

His sweaty hands ran over his hair, making it more of a mess than it already was. Malcolm had gone missing from the hotel making Angus' life a lot harder than it should have been. He thought he could count on his older brother, ask him for advice and words of comfort. Maybe they could both go over to the house and beat the shit out of Travis. Angus wanted nothing more than to get Hannah away from him, but getting his brother's opinion about it wouldn't hurt the situation, given the threat of the police getting called on them. Malcolm wouldn't know why, he wasn't there that night.

That night.

That stupid, wonderful, awful night that he'd do again in an instant. He'd do anything that pissed Travis off. But then he thought of Hannah, and how she resulted from it. It was his fault. She got hurt because of him. Those marks, those burns...

Travis didn't own an ashtray.

Angus wanted to slap himself in the face. All the signs...all the signs he ignored. Maybe he wasn't the one that hurt her, but he wasn't the one that stopped it from happening either. He was too busy managing his own life, his new friend...

One he hadn't thought about in a long time.

He jumped at the pair of hands reaching from behind the couch, two smooth arms wrapping around his neck, holding him close to her. His head was pressed up against her, his shoulders brought in for a light massage. He closed his eyes and shrugged her off, leaning forward to put his head in his hands. "Not now, Sherrie."

The woman stepped around the couch to face him, a look of annoyance in her eyes. All day he had thrown any affection from her out the window, turning away from her. She wasn't a stranger to the reason. "Why, is Hannah more important than me?" she asked spreading her arms out. Angus sighed into his hands, putting one on top of his knee, giving the woman an exasperated look. "Is she better than me?"

"I never said any of that," he sighed again.

"Not in words."

Closing his eyes he pressed his hand into his forehead, as if he could erase anything out of his mind, anything he never wanted to think about. But doing so had caused his ignorance in the first place, and Hannah might not get the help she needed if he stayed away from it all. He forced himself to think about it, getting himself angry on purpose. Thinking of anything he could do to get that smile he missed so much back on her face. Sherrie was still there when he opened his eyes, and he figured he ought to answer her. "Sherrie, I-I found somethin' today, somethin' I was too stupid to notice before an'...I can't imagine my best friend gettin' hurt like that."

Sherrie didn't seem to hear him. She instead came closer to him and sat on his small lap, Angus suddenly aware of just how small he really was. He remembered mentioning to Malcolm how he liked his girls tall, but the level of discomfort from this position really sent him thinking again. Her hands went to his hair, running through the strands he had just fixed that morning. He wasn't upset, he had messed it up more than anyone else could. It didn't hurt. It didn't hurt at all. He might have even said he enjoyed having his hair played with. But something nagged at him, distracted him. He couldn't focus with the picture of her arms in his mind, and her voice in his ears.

Her eyes in his heart.

"You need to unwind, relax..." Sherrie's voice was a lot closer than he expected it to be, and a lot softer. It wasn't unpleasant but he didn't feel like smelling someone else's breath at the moment. He let another sigh escape when her hands moved down to his slightly frayed jacket, playing with the zipper. A sense of deja vu crept upon him, one similar yet different to the one he happened to feel whenever he talked to Travis. As if he'd gotten himself into this mess before. Maybe Malcolm felt the same thing... Sherrie leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear. "I can help you with that."

She was gently pushed off his lap and he stared at the floor again. Sherrie placed her hands on her hips, not at all liking his attitude. "That's exactly the kind of shit I've been doin' this whole time with you while my friend is gettin'-" Angus choked on his next words. The word abused sounded so awful to say, especially associated with anyone he cared about. Travis was not only emotionally abusive, but now he was physically abusive, and clearly had been long before today. They were all over her arms, all over...

He lifted his head thinking he heard Sherrie say something. "Huh?"

"You're not even listening, you never listen!"

"I'm listenin' now, Sherrie, what do you want?" he asked a little louder than he meant. Standing there letting all her patience return to her, Sherrie spoke.

"Maybe this isn't working out." Angus still wasn't sure if he heard her correctly. The words were clear, the tone was assertive, yet the meaning was still foggy. Narrowing his eyes, he saw her head into the bedroom and disappear behind the door. She didn't come out right away. Angus' mind went directly back to what he had seen and heard, and what he was going to tell Malcolm, if he ever saw him again. He was probably just off drinking again, ever since he could afford to buy them on his own...

The door opened again and Sherrie came back rolling a suitcase behind her. It left a dark trail in the carpet as she brought it over to the door of the hotel room. Angus watched her. "What are you doing?"

Sherrie looked up at him, no sign of any love she supposedly held for him. Angus didn't bother searching for it. "I'm going, Angus." He narrowed his eyes.

"Going?"

"It seems this relationship or-whatever we had, isn't working out for you. You obviously don't want anything to do with it, and you're not putting any effort to at least make me happy. So," she set her suitcase against the wall and headed for the bathroom. "I think I'll just go then." He blinked, making sure, just absolutely sure that she had indeed packed up her stuff.

"You mean...you're leaving?" A collection of products and bottles rattled and clashed together as Sherrie took them all in her arms to save a bunch of trips. "You're actually gonna leave this time?"

"You sound enthusiastic," she said coming out with an assortment of different products in her arms. One bottle hit the floor and she cursed as she bent over to pick it up. Angus shook his head.

"No, no I'm not, I'm jus' surprised." She opened up her suitcase and started placing bottles inside. "This jus' kinda came...outta nowhere."

"This did not come out of nowhere, Angus, you've been acting like I'm some rotting fruit and want nothing to do with me," she retorted. "All morning I want to spend some time with you and you push me away." Her suitcase was zipped up. "I don't really like that, you know, no one does."

"Sherrie, did it ever occur to you I might just not be in the mood?"

"You're never in the mood anymore! It's like your mind is always elsewhere, you're positively distracted!"

"It's called thinking, Sherrie, you might want to try it sometime." He immediately regretted saying that. "I'm sorry, hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way."

"Oh. Great."

Angus sighed at the massive pain in his chest. God only knew what was causing it this time. "I jus' meant a lot's been on my mind lately, okay? I'm not in the mood to fool around, especially since..."

"I know, I know, your friend is getting abused by some psychopath and everyone is too scared to do anything about it." Angus ground his teeth together. "Just call the police and explain what happened, show them the proof, and then he's gone, I don't see what's so hard about it."

"You weren't there, Sherrie," Angus said, his eyes glossy. "Okay? You didn't see or hear anything that happened, you weren't there to see all the times Hannah's been hurt by this guy, you're never around. Seems to me that you're the one who doesn't want this relationship."

"You make such a big deal out of everything, Angus, that's why I can't be here anymore. I have to leave so you won't start getting after me for waking up earlier than you." Standing up from the couch Angus grabbed his water glass from the coffee table and made to stand by the bedroom door. Sherrie watched him, each of them a hard expression on their faces.

"I make a big deal out of everything," Angus whisper laughed without humor, eyeing Sherrie's suitcase. "I make a big deal."

"I'll need money for my flight," she said, catching his attention. "I'm stopping by your apartment first to get the rest of my things."

Angus swirled the water in his glass. "You have a key?"

"As of now, yes, when I move back in with my parents, you can have it back."

Angus nodded to himself. "You uh...you know the way back?"

"I know the address, I can fly a plane by myself. I can do a lot of things by myself."

"Yes," Angus said, almost smiling. "You can." She stood there with her arms crossed, watching him from across the room like a vulture. He tapped each foot to the floor twice repeatedly, knowing it probably annoyed her to do it outside of a show. As if he was concentrating on something else. He looked back up at her losing the smile. "You're really leaving?"

It was a minute before she answered. "Not unless you want me to. Not unless you think Hannah is the better choice to focus on, if you love her more than me."

With a sip of his water, and a glance at how much was left, Angus answered. "You know what, Sherrie? Go right ahead." With that, he entered his bedroom, and shut the door.