The plane took off leaving Travis behind it. It took another few minutes of comforting to get the story out of the young woman, and she told it with still a tear in her eye. Back at the house, Travis had noticed the bruise on Hannah's neck due to close proximity, which fired something in his drunken mind to try to match it with his own. The bottle was taken from his hands and smashed on his head, Hannah running out of the house with Travis bleeding on the floor. When Angus didn't answer the pounding from her fright, she ran to Malcolm's room, who answered the door with a slight frown on his face from being woken. He didn't tarry bringing her inside when the foggy sleep cleared.

It was nine in the morning when they left, the flight costing a few hundred more than their original. They didn't care, they'd have time to care later. Hannah sat there hugging her knees to her chest, Angus glancing at her once in a while. He tried holding her hand but it seemed his allowance of last night to hold her had run out. Maybe she needed time alone.

It was admitted the flight could have cost more if Hannah had brought something with her luggage-wise, but moving to a new location without any belongings, clothes, or toiletries, though it was the least of her problems, made her nerves quiver. It took a while to find Hannah's ID in the system as she hadn't brought it, and she assured the men that Travis had no idea where she kept it in her room. Malcolm had yet to make that long distance call to the rest of the band, so they'd be surprised in a few hours.

The police were called to find Travis and take him into their custody, hopefully finding something in his records that could be used to charge him with, as proof of physical abuse was now thirty thousand feet in the air. Angus was eager to reach the ground for more reasons than one.

The suitcase was hauled up the stairs of the apartment building. Hannah followed after him, Angus slowing down to walk beside her rather than in front. It was warm and almost dark, Malcolm having driven to his own place after dropping the two off. They had eaten breakfast and lunch on the plane, having dinner in a small cafe close by. "Malcolm's a good guy, huh?" Angus asked, voice mingling with the rolling wheels of the suitcase on cement stairs. "Was your food okay?" She nodded. "Good. My room ain't far, just a bit of stairs to climb. Watch your head here...so, you feel at home yet?"

"It's nice here," she said, and Angus nodded with a smile. He pulled the suitcase up the last step and touched Hannah's elbow signalling her to follow him down the hallway. Three doors down and he stopped to pull his key out.

"Told ya' it wasn't far. Here we are." He pushed the door open, holding it for her allowing her to enter first. She was slow and cautious, as if an earthquake passed through leaving the room to feeble rubble. It was dark. "Oh, here, so you can see." Angus flicked a switch behind her and the room brightened. It wasn't small, nor was it big. Just enough for a small person or two. A couch sat in the middle of the living room with a little table seating four stood a few feet away. A kitchen was off to the side of that, with the hallway in the back of the flat. Angus closed the door rolling his suitcase to stand by his side. "Well, this is it. Ain't much but it's what I could afford."

"It's nice," Hannah smiled.

"It is, isn't it? Oh, uh, thanks. Here, I'll show you around." Placing a hand on her back he took her to the hallway, where a little closet door was at the end, and a bathroom and bedroom were next to it. Angus looked in each room, noticing how empty it all was. Sherrie's belongings were all gone, her clothes, her make up, her pictures she had hung up. Somehow, it made the tiny space feel bigger. "This is my room-well, it'll be your room until further notice."

"Angus, I'm not gonna take your room-"

"Yes, you are. I won't have you on the couch, okay? Don't worry about me, I can take the couch." Hannah didn't argue, knowing good and well Angus was too stubborn to change his mind. The bed was small, across from it a brown dresser full of clutter and mess. A mirror was attached to the top of it, with a waste basket next it on the floor. Hannah walked up to the dresser, examining all that Angus collected over the years. "It's a bit messy, huh?"

"A bit?" she smiled. She held up a ticket stub to the light, reading some romance film she had never heard of.

"Sherrie wanted to see that."

"How'd you like it?"

"Same as all the other ones we saw," he sighed placing his hands in his pockets. "They end up married with six kids."

Hannah laughed to herself and set it down. Angus watched her, watched her pick something up, check for anything on it to read, then set it down. She found bottle caps, receipts, and a notebook and pencil, every sheet a drawing. "You're good," Hannah said flipping through the pages.

"Years of practice," Angus smiled. Hannah hadn't noticed he walked closer to her until she turned her head and nearly jumped. "Sorry," he said stepping back.

"Why so much stuff?" she asked, wondering how a paperclip could hold sentimental value. Angus shrugged, and scanned the dresser along with her.

"Guess I'm too lazy to clean it," he said. He picked up a birthday card from two years ago, a few crumbs scattering to the carpet when he opened it. "Huh. The ants can get those for me."

As he relived his twenty first birthday Hannah found a silver chain, attached to a heart pendant. Upon further inspection, she could see the hinge on the back, making it a locket. She picked it up, holding it as if it were made of glass. Angus set the card down with a smile at what George and Malcolm wrote in it and saw what Hannah was holding. "What's this?"

"That, looks like a necklace to me," he said.

"I can see that," Hannah replied. "It yours?"

"Nah, it was my mum's. She got it as a weddin' present from my dad's mum, but I don't think she was ever attached to it," Angus said. "See, she put her old belongings in a box for us kids to have. We each got our own box." Hannah nodded in understanding. "Mine came with that necklace by mistake an' I asked Margaret if she wanted it. My sister," he added. Hannah nodded again. "She didn't want it, Mum didn't want it back so...dunno, jus' kept it with the rest of this stuff." Angus studied it in the young woman's hands. "It's nice, can't see why they wouldn't want it."

"You can wear it," Hannah said, holding it up to him. He bat his lashes. "Looks nice with your eyes."

She set it down, Angus staring at it. One could tell it was old. Though it was old in age, it was still young in use. He glanced at Hannah, who had taken to looking at the birthday card Angus set down. When she had read the entire card smiling at what George and Malcolm wrote, her hair had been brushed aside, Angus' hands wrapping the locket around her neck, and clasping it. "You look real nice with it," he noted.

"Angus-I can't wear this, it's not-"

"Not what? Not yours?" She didn't answer. "No one in my family wants it, an'...let's be honest. It looks a lot better on you than on my dresser."

She looked at it in the mirror, it's dim reflective manner still shining back at her. "There's not a picture in it, is there?"

"My mum had one a long time ago of her an' Dad. Took it out an' stuck it in her bedroom mirror so she could see it." Hannah felt it under her fingers, the necklace giving off a certain warmth as if it belonged there. "Hey, if you want it, it's yours, my mum would love you to have it. She liked you, you helped me pass the test, remember?" Hannah remembered. But there was one thing she didn't understand.

"You...never gave it to Sherrie?" Angus frowned.

"...No, I-guess I didn't." He may have tried to when they first met, but Sherrie didn't seem too interested in such an old thing, and put on something she bought on their trip to Queensland instead. It had been collecting dust on his dresser ever since. Looking at it, then looking at her, he placed his hands on her cheeks, brushing her hair away from the necklace. "It does look nice," he said. "An' hey, if ya' decide you don't want it, go ahead an' give it away, I'm not gonna get mad."

"I'm not gonna sell it, it was your mother's!"

"I ain't gonna get mad over a necklace. She didn't want it, Margaret didn't want it, if you want it-" He shrugged. Hannah looked down at it only to have her gaze redirected at his own. Forgetting she was a guest in his home, he kept their eyes locked, their proximity close, regarding her more as a roommate, as a friend, as...

He wasn't sure.

"Th-thank you, Angus," Hannah said, holding the necklace in her hand. She let it fall against her neck, the warmth from it lingering in her palm. "I love it, this means a lot."

He smiled. "No problem." His eyes searched back and forth in both of hers, hers following right along. Her cheeks reddened against his hands. Angus stepped closer, still searching her eyes for what, he didn't know. As if her eyes played the story of their childhood over and over, as if he wanted to capture all the details he missed the replay before. In his head he could hear his heart. Their faces came closer, Angus knowing his actions were not the result of his new form, but all traced back to his own mind, and his own heart. His voice was soft and quiet as he whispered against her lips. "May I...?"

Hannah nodded once after a second, Angus afraid he missed it. He waited another moment, watching for any reaction of warning or fear. With no shaking, no tears, and no turn of the head, he closed the gap between them. Pressing his upper lip against her lower lip only to be pulled away by a knock at the door. It bore a certain rhythm, but no less an interruption.

With a sigh Angus dropped his hands from her cheeks. "Be right back," he mumbled before leaving the bedroom and finding his front door. It opened to reveal a man slightly taller than Angus, wearing a sweater and jeans. His hair was messy from sleep and a pair of moccasins covered his feet. He wasn't old, his thirties at the most. Angus managed a smile when he saw him. "Hello, Mr. Nelson."

"Angus," the man answered, rocking on his feet. "I uh, noticed you just got back."

"Yeah, was in America for a while, just got back home."

"America," Mr. Nelson pondered. "That's a very big place, isn't it? Lots of hot dogs I hear."

"I don't know, I didn't have many when I was there."

"What about regular dogs?" Angus blinked at his neighbor.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, woof woof?"

"Oh. Yeah, yeah, I saw a few of those." Angus sniffed, ready to get to the point. Mr. Nelson nodded.

"I like those little small ones, the ones that fit on your lap. Big ones are just too big for that, you know?"

"Yeah," Angus replied.

"Of course, you and I are both so small, it's natural to like smaller dogs. Or cats. You like cats?"

"Cats are fine." Angus noticed a small collection of papers in his neighbor's hand. "What did you call me for, sir?"

"I'm real sorry to bother you at such a late hour," he said scratching his head. "You weren't busy, were you?" Angus exhaled, trying not to look obvious.

"No, no. 'Course not." Mr. Nelson smiled.

"Eat a sandwich or something, mate, I can see right through you." Angus didn't laugh at his joke. "A girl, is it?"

"Well-" Angus coughed. "I do have a guest over but whoever it is is my concern, yeah? Now, what are ya' here for?"

"Another one, eh? Take it from me, Angus is a good guy!" Mr. Nelson called into the apartment. "So what if he's small and sneaks into the cookie jar when you're asleep?" Angus put his face in his hand, leaning up against the doorway. His grey sweater seemed itchier than normal. "He's a good guy, be nice to him, alright?" Before letting Hannah have a chance to wonder whether she ought to answer, Angus cut to the chase.

"What have you got, Mr. Nelson?" The man held up the papers. Angus noticed now they were envelopes.

"It seems your mail has been delivered to my house by mistake," he said. Angus took them, glancing at the names. "I got these last month, they've been sitting on my kitchen table-"

"Last month?" Angus asked in shock.

"-sitting there for the longest time, but you were gone so I waited for you to get back." Mr. Nelson rocked on his feet. "Now you're back."

"Yes, I am." He smiled and backed away from the doorway. "Uh, thank you, Mr. Nelson, I appreciate it-is this all of it?"

"No, the rest is still in your mailbox downstairs. I would have stuck those in there with them but you know." Mr. Nelson shrugged. "Don't have a key."

"Right. Well, I'll see you soon, alright?"

"Sure thing. And I've got to tell you, I've been up all night last night with the window open because it's been so hot. And someone starts cutting grass at two in the morning, keeping me up, can you believe it?" Angus started to close the door.

"That's terrible. I sure need my sleep." Angus thought to himself the poor bastard could have closed the window, but he knew his neighbor would drag the comment out to a full pulpit sermon. "I hope you sleep better toni-"

"I'm just asking you to keep it down, you know, I want peace and quiet tonight." Angus' face darkened and he hid it again.

"Have no worries, Mr. Nelson, that's not gonna happen." Mr. Nelson smiled.

"Oh good, I'll get my eight hours then." He turned to leave then stopped. "Thank you, Angus, you're a nice boy. And thank you to you, Miss," he called into the apartment again. "I appreciate it!" Angus closed the door without a goodbye and sighed. Mr. Nelson was Angus' neighbor. Not a bad man, actually a very nice man. Just a very odd man as well, with a deep love of clocks. Angus visited his apartment when he first moved in from an invitation. Angus wondered if he made a mistake in coming when every sentence was punctuated by a pendulum, cut off by a chime. He talked an awful lot about his hamster, though Angus had yet to see it. He finally left when the grandfather clock in the hall rung nine at night, and watched his step as he nearly flew out the door. Ever since Mr. Nelson would come by and pay Angus a visit. Angus was glad he had a real reason tonight.

He sifted through the envelopes, most of them bills. Prices were higher this year it seemed, or maybe income was dropping. Sales certainly were, and he and the rest of the band were paying for it. The theme of the latest album was almost comically perfect. Would he change a thing, no, of course not. He'd make it work, they all would.

Setting the envelopes on the table, leaving them unopened for a month and a night, he went back into the bedroom, standing by the doorway. Hannah sat on the bed, knocking her thumbs together, face crimson. "Sorry, about that, got a bit of a character for a neighbor."

"Who was it?"

"Mr. Nelson, he lives next door. He uh, got my mail by mistake. Dropped it off."

"That was nice of him."

"Oh yeah, he's a real swell guy," he laughed. "Yeah." The interruption left them both feeling slightly embarrassed but they'd be damned if they said they regretted it. Angus picked a chipping splint of wood from the door frame narrowly dodging a splinter. He waited, giving Hannah time to collect her thoughts and speak if she must. It didn't look like she would. "The bathroom is right next door, jus' so you know," he said. "I'll leave you to change if you want-" He stopped as he remembered. "Oh, never mind."

"I don't like staying in one pair of clothes but I'm glad I didn't have to..." She cocked her head. "Go back in there. With him."

"Me too."

Another round of silence.

Hannah quit playing with her thumbs and stood from the bed. Something landed on her head, covering her sight in a grey cloud. She pulled it away to find a sweater in her fingers. Angus stood in the doorway, as if nothing had happened. "Here, this should fit ya'."

"What are you doing?" Hannah asked, eyes wide.

"Put it on."

"Where's your shirt?"

"Not the reaction I was expectin' ya' know," he said, smiling at her look of horror. "Hurtin' my feelings."

"Then don't throw your clothes around!" Angus laughed at her. Hannah examined the sweater, knowing it would be a size too big for her. She looked up at him warily. "What'll you wear then?"

"Eh. This," he said gesturing to himself. "I'm too lazy to unpack an' look for another one." Hannah kept the sweater on her lap, Angus waiting for her. "Put it on. Unless you want to be the one goin' shirtless." Giving him a wince, she raised her finger and spun it in a circle. Angus sighed and turned around to face the hallway. "I won't look."

The dark of the hallway gave his eyes some peace to rest on, but he knew the longer he stared the more the sudden light would hurt when he turned around again. In a minute something hit him on the back of the head. He removed it, seeing a black sweater. Turning around, guarding his eyes, he smiled seeing Hannah wearing his shirt. It grew when he saw she had rolled the sleeves up, finally letting the skin on her arms breathe. It faltered when he remembered what made those marks. The mark on her neck was beginning to turn yellow, Angus feeling guilty he had given her another blemish to wear.

He took her sweater to the bed with him and set it down between them. "It comfortable enough for ya'?" he asked.

"It's fine. Thank you," she said.

"No problem. Hey, we'll get you some stuff tomorrow, alright? We don't meet up with the guys for a while, they won't wonder about us."

"Are you okay?" Hannah asked. "You seem a bit...off about something."

"Off?" he smiled. She was right on the mark, as she always had been. "And..." He scooted closer, just slightly, so that he could reach his hand across without leaning his whole body, and placed it on her knee. "what makes you say that?"

"Your eyes," she said. "They lose their smiles when you're-" She stopped for the right word. "Off."

"Hmm." Angus couldn't shake the nagging voice in his head about the bills on the table, letters and notices about losing his apartment if the rent wasn't paid. But of course, Hannah needn't worry about that. She had enough on her plate. She was here to lose her worries and get herself back on her feet. Angus smiled again, this time with his eyes. "Nothin's wrong, nothin's wrong. Just...got to get used to sleepin' on the couch is all." Hannah rolled her eyes.

"Then take this room, I'll sleep on the cou-" Angus put his other hand to her mouth, muffling any sound.

"Very funny, Hannah, you're a real wit. But enough nonsense, I'm takin' the couch." Hannah crossed her arms when licking his hand didn't seem to deter him. Angus removed his hand anyway, wiping it off on the grey sweater.

"Good thing this is yours." Angus had forgotten.

"Oh, damn. Eh, well..." He shrugged with a smile and knowing the moment they shared mere minutes ago could never be reconstructed, he ceased all contact with her and stood from the bed. "I'll uh, see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah," she agreed. "Tomorrow."

He edged his way to the doorway, backing into the wall instead. Hannah laughed. He blushed. "Have a good sleep then. You have a real bed now."

Hannah looked at the plain white sheets under a plain white bedspread underneath her. After sleeping on the floor in a rotten smelling sleeping bag for years, she didn't see this bed as quite so plain. She undid it and crawled inside, Angus hoping he washed the sheets recently enough. Sherrie would often drip perfume on the pillow. While it smelled nice, it would stain into unsightly dark spots. Making sure she was comfortable, Angus stepped out of the room turning out the light. "Angus?"

He stepped back in. "Yes?"

His heart didn't beat as he waited for her to express her latest thought. "Goodnight."

He smiled. "Goodnight." With that, he left the door open ajar and left for the living room. He had a blanket taken out from the closet and placed over him, the armrest a decent pillow. His sleep was dreamless, though his mind was full. Before he knew it, the black turned light blue among the flames of orange while a bird chorus held their recital outside. With the quality of sleep he got, those birds needed more practice, he decided.