A decent amount of time later, Leah was finally in her much craved clean clothes. A little baggy here and there, and the sporty joggers were too long, but cuffed ankles were her saviour.

She combed through her hair, already missing the comfort of her usual scented products as she carefully stroked the plastic teeth through the knots. It took far longer than normal because she kept having to avoid prodding her scalp too harshly around the sensitive area of her wound, but the result was a considerable improvement.

Squeezing the extra drops of moisture from the ends with a towel, Leah let her hair dry naturally on her back. She cleaned up, took everything that she owned or had been given, and exited the bathroom.

The temperature drop after leaving her cloud of steam had goosebumps appearing on her exposed forearms, a gentle reminder that it wasn't warm enough to be wandering around a fairly cold house without a couple of layers on.

She still had her jacket, and despite the torn left sleeve, she slipped it over her shoulders.

The intrigue to explore the upstairs was certainly on her mind as she picked up her things again. Peering left and right, pivoting on her feet, Leah was tempted, but in the end she decided against exploration because the risk was too high.

The descent down the stairs was much noisier than it had been on the way up, and she was hitting all the squeaky patches that she had managed to avoid before. She almost bumped into someone- that someone being Joey- because he was right at the bottom, waiting. It was lucky that she had escaped her cycle of overthinking so she could steady herself on his level.

"Do you want me to put those on for you?"

"Oh, yeah, please." But Leah had already made another split decision to go back on herself, "Wait, actually-"

An overflowing basket full of laundry with more packed in the machine confirmed her suspicions, and Leah found herself being that person to sort what went in, and what went out.

It was hard to read Joey's expression once she was finished, but the hands on hips, the pressed mouth and then the light scratch on one side of his nose was enough to send the embarrassment her way, and for both of them to look away from one another.

It was only when they reached the living room that Joey turned to say something to her, pushing past the onset of shame.

At least, Leah assumed he was.

She saw his mouth move and his eyes lift to flick past the side of her head, but his voice was drowned out by a rush of pain. The base of her palm drifted up towards her brow, but standing upright was proving to be too much again.

"Leah? Are you...okay?" Brad was sitting on the edge of his seat, and next to him, Tom had adopted the same worried expression.

Leah frowned hard, unable to focus between the three of them. Trying again had her stumbling backwards, surroundings making her head spin, and she was expecting to hit solid ground.

She didn't though. She fell into the arms of another human, she knew that much, and he was the one to keep her steady.

"I've got you." There wasn't a strain of effort audible in Joey's voice even though he had suddenly taken all her weight. "Let's get you comfortable."

Leah was guided to the sofa, and Joey didn't let go until she was safely off her feet, and lying on back. Frown contorting with pain, she was squinting at this man who was shifting her legs and eventually placing a pillow behind her head.

"Did you not just hear...? Why're you- wow my-"

"Hey, it's okay." Joey crouched in her line of sight, a focus point Leah was grateful for. "Try and get some rest."

Tom had found a blanket, and it was only when Joey moved to make way that Leah realised a loss of contact from her hand. It can't have been much, but fingers had definitely been resting on her wrist, a gesture she hoped was genuine and not false reassurance for whatever this onset was.

Thoughts spiralling, she didn't have the strength to stay awake to ask questions. Drowsiness sucked her in, and her headache was strong enough to make her pass out.

<>

By six in the evening, Steven and Joe had consumed far too much alcohol, lost count of the many drugs they had consumed, and completely forgotten that one of them had to drive back.

Steven had become 'top dog' according to Matty, his extroverted nature on full display as he struck up a conversation with anyone he fancied.

Like the day before, there had been a few other guys milling around, the stereotypical wrong side of fifty five, a little greasy looking and with thinning hair on their head, but they were more than happy to buy their American friends a drink. And when he wasn't indulging himself in alcohol, with a lady friend, or doping around with Joe, Steven was with Matty.

With his high quality stash and women that were out of this world, Matty had a lot of credit to his name. That, and being a similar age to Steven with a personality on the same confident wavelength, they just seemed to click.

Personal details were never pried into, partly because their conversation topics mainly revolved around Matty joking about his grumpy bodyguard, Anton.

Anton was about the only guy not interested in what Steven and Joe had to do or say around the place, so Steven's suspicions about him had been correct. He didn't usually judge a book by its cover, but he had hit the nail right on the head with Mr Hair-Gel-Overuser.

He didn't really understand why Matty had Anton when he was built like a bulldozer, but there were reasons for everything, and since Steven's personal life and circumstances hadn't been in demand, he wasn't going to get that ball rolling in fear of slipping up with something that might get him into trouble.

"Yo Matty." Steven squashed the end of his cigarette in a full ashtray, "Whatz the time?"

After flicking up his watch to eye level, Matty poked his head around the red haired girl that had made herself comfortable in his lap.

"'Bout ten past six."

Feeling lightheaded, Steven smoothed his hand over the back of his hair, and blinked a couple of times to straighten his vision.

"Everything good?" Matty asked, before ushering the woman off his lap.

"Mhmm, yeah," Steven could feel the slur of his words. "Me an' Joe hafta get back soon."

Despite his intoxicated brain, it did decide to let him know that consuming a lot of liquid had consequences.

"Fuuucking hell! I gotta take a piss!"

Snapping his head forward was a mistake in itself, because he was forced to pinch his eyebrows together to stop his eyes falling out. At least, that's what the fast motion felt like.

"Maybe you'll piss the alcohol out of your system," Matty remarked unhelpfully. "Drugs too."

Steven steadied himself on his feet. He didn't fall over straight away so that was always a positive, but he was tripping his balls out, and couldn't deny he felt a bit sick.

"Tell you what." Matty stood too, ducking his head under the curved light that matched the circumference of the table. "I'll go rescue Joe from the bar."

The friendly clap on Steven's shoulder tested his balancing skills, but once he was moving, he made it to the bathrooms unaided, and without ruining someone's poker game.

He just had one problem: which one was the men's.

There were some pretty great stories regarding Steven and the ladies bathroom. Most of the time he'd go in on purpose because in a place like this, he'd be invited to join in on the lines they were doing. From there, it could escalate into a steamy make-out session, and if his timing was particularly good and his charm was on point, he might have scored a quickie, but for today, he chose the men's, and pushed his weight through the grubby door.

Fingers fumbled with his zipper, stumbling towards the row of urinals, and Steven let out a relieved sort of sound when he could let go.

He vaguely registered the door opening and closing behind him, and an attempt was made to look over his shoulder, but the whole craning his neck action almost made him fall backwards, which was not a good thing mid-flow.

"Joe!" Steven assumed loudly, half giggling at himself for almost pissing on his shoes. "Fuck me, man. We gotta get back."

It was odd not to receive a reply from his partner in crime, and zipping back up, his explanation was that it was Anton that had joined him, not Joe.

Underwhelmed by his company, Steven deliberately chose the closest sink, and pushed up his sleeves.

"I'm not your fucking friend."

"I know. The mood went to shit as'soon az you walked in."

Anton had been cutting up lines, and ignoring his insult, he bent over to snort up the first.

"Joe fucking Perry beats you in e-ver-y category, ezpecially fun."

Steven couldn't help himself, and he flicked his wet fingers to add some decoration to the scarred cheek. His laughter, quiet as it were, was borderline hysterical, and he was having too much fun being responsible for the large water droplet ruining the untouched line of white powder.

With a harsh sniff through his nose, Anton bolted upright and forced Steven to stumble backwards. It didn't, however, hinder the fit of giggles.

"You should watch your mouth."

While he may not have been as tall as Matty, he still had a fraction of height over the drunken stance of Steven, and his chiselled features allowed him to live up to his ruthless Russian expectations, no problems at all.

"One like yours could really piss off the wrong people." Anton advanced slowly, jabbing out a golden ringed finger. "And you're already in some really...deep...shit."

The three nudges to his chest didn't scare Steven. In fact, he was trying really hard not to burst into laughter again when Anton had made a toilet reference in the bathroom.

The only way he succeeded in staying quiet was by puffing out his cheeks, consequently making his mouth look bigger. He couldn't care less about what Anton had to say about his appearance when the guy had bits of cocaine under his nose.

"You gotta lil something..." Steven tapped his own nose, pointing out the obvious in a particularly not-giving-a-fuck attitude.

It took a good few seconds for their staring contest to break, but with a muted growl, Anton's thumb made a harsh swipe under his nose, successfully rubbing off the specs of white, and he gratefully followed on with an exit.

"Just so you're aware, we're not finished."

"Pfffft, we never fuckin' started!"

Steven waved him off, the stupid accent- Anton's existence to put it simply- giving him a delightful headache to deal with.

The door slammed, leaving him alone in the bathroom.

"Asshole."

<>

"Leah."

It was a rude interruption picked up by her conscious hearing, and one to be ignored when she was warm and comfortable.

"Leah."

Louder and more intrusive, Leah pinched her eyebrows together in protest.

"Leah, wake up."

A few gentle shakes of her shoulder finally pushed her awake. Lying on right side with the navy blanket bundled to her chin and her legs tucked neatly on top of one another, she must have been expressing her displeasure.

"Sorry for waking you." Tom retracted his hand from her shoulder, apologetic in his smile. "But we thought you might want some dinner."

From the drawn curtains behind him and a couple of lamps providing the cosy light, it must've been close to nightfall.

Leah rubbed her eyes with a pinch of her thumb and index finger.

"What time is it?" she asked, frowning groggily.

"Quarter past seven," Tom chuckled in response, standing up. "You were out for quite a while."

What had turned into a bit of sleep had made her feel better, but she was far from her usual self, and she hadn't even attempted standing up yet.

"We're having pizza if you want some, but I can bring it in here if it's easier."

"No, no." Leah tested her strength by sitting up, and sorted out the way her hair had dried flat to one side of her head. "I'll come and sit."

Tom offered his hand, a gesture, when she looked up at him, accepted.

"Good?"

Leah steadied herself. "Yeah."

The dining room was accessed through an open plan section adjacent to the fireplace, although there was an additional door from the hallway too. It was a slightly smaller room, with bespoke units lining one side and a large window at the back, and the smell of pizza enticed Leah to take the empty space at the table next to Brad.

Since there were six chairs, she could have sat at one of the ends, but she kept things even with two facing two.

"We've decided on a couple of things," Joey started rather ominously.

Leah had an appetising slice of pepperoni on her plate, but it remained there, untouched.

"Like today, we want to make sure you're all good, have everything you need, etcetera."

Tom set down his glass. "Yeah, it's the least we can do."

Reacting out of amusement was one of the first signs of Leah losing her patience. It contradicted her calmness just moments ago, willingness to come and eat, but it was probably justified, all things considered.

"Why now?"

She was looking between the boys, moved her right arm to rest on top of her chair, and it was something she could only hope was too casual for their comfort.

"What do you mean?" Joey asked.

"What's changed since...two days ago?" She flicked her slackened wrist, an equally facetious pull of her mouth to accompany it. "Do any of you even know why I'm here?"

The silence was impressive, the ticking clock serving as a constant painful reminder, and assumptions about these situations were there to be made.

"A loose-end. Great. You're lucky I don't remember, because I might not be so willing to sit here and eat pizza."

"You don't remember?"

It was Brad, a quick follow-up too, but Leah had no intention to ignore her slice of pizza this time. Still, she kept her chewing respectful.

"What happened? Where I was? No. For all I know, you could've kidnapped me in my sleep."

"Shit, as in nothing at all?"

Her eyes drifted back towards Joey, his expression too real for her to consider doubting.

"I've been getting glimpses- I saw my brother, my dad, but other than that, it's non-existent that day," she said, taking a break before her next bite. "Suppose it works in your favour, really."

None of them were forthcoming offering to jog her memory, and this anxious resistance was more powerful than defending themselves from her sly insult.

The remainder of dinner was subdued, and Tom broke the disappointment that she couldn't sleep on the couch for the night, something Leah didn't have the energy to argue with.

Spare blankets and fluffy pillows sweetened that deal, and Joey elected himself as an escort, lagging a few paces behind.

"I'm really sorry," he said quietly, voice a little hoarse.

Flicking on the light in the corner, Leah felt a sense of betrayal hearing an apology.

"I wish I could tell you more- we all do- and I promise I'll try to find a way, but for now...you just gotta hang tight. I won't let them hurt you."

Giving in to the one sided conversation, she turned with her shoulder first.

"See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow."

It was a dismissal if anything, just to make it clear there was no intention to prolong the interaction.

Joey said wait. Leah had told herself to wait, but she was getting restless.

There was something going on, something she was in the middle of, and she wanted to know what it was, and why she was part of it.

<>