Jensen didn't know when the yelling had started. She didn't know who yelled first. Who yelled because the other one was yelling. She didn't know who started crying first, who cried second. When the pit in her stomach formed or when her throat started burning from yelling. Or crying. Or both. She didn't know if Miles felt the same. She didn't know whether they were yelling at each other or yelling at the situation or both or neither.

Jensen didn't know what was happening. Did Miles?

It had started with apologies first. On both sides. Followed by too many buts and fingers pointed and things Jensen never thought she would say only hours after saying she loved Miles. Was it inevitable or just out of hand? How long had they been arguing? Jensen didn't even know what she was saying, let alone how much time had passed.

"I don't want this," Jensen said. Softer than they'd been talking to each other for... for however long they had been yelling. Long enough that her throat burned.

Miles' face dropped. He straightened slightly as his expressions softened. From angry to sad. "What?"

"I mean... I mean this life," Jensen said. She felt like the words that came out of her mouth were different than those she was slaving over in her head. "Not this... not us." She ran a hand down her face. Spreading hot tears as she dragged. "I've never doubted us."

"What are you talking about?" Miles wiped away tears like he was slapping himself in the face.

"I don't want... Hollywood," Jensen said. She waved a hand toward Miles' front door. "I don't want to keep walking out of places and being met with people who don't know what privacy is."

"That's just... the life," Miles said. "It's what happens."

"It's not just what happens, Miles," Jensen said.

"Grace came and got you the first day you were here because there was a tip that there were already paps at the airport waiting for you," Miles said. "You were already part of this. Just hidden away. What changed?"

Jensen didn't want to say it. Because there wasn't any way she could without it sounding awful—it was awful she was even thinking it. She pressed her lips together, staring at the floor. Picking at the hem of her shirt was all she could do to keep her focus somewhere else.

Miles' inhaled sharply after a moment. "Got it."

"I'm not blaming you." Jensen looked up at him. At the hurt on his face. The one that made her heart feel like it was shattering. Shards tried to slice through their bone cage.

"But you're not not blaming me," Miles said. He held his hands out at his sides and gave a defeated shrug. "This is my life, Jensen. It's been like this since the day I was born. I didn't ask for it—"

"I know—"

"—And I can't just turn it on and turn it off like you seem to think you can."

"I never said that." Jensen didn't mean to raise her voice again. They had just quieted down. How long had it been?

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I don't want to be in the public eye," Jensen said. "Not right now."

"You don't get to go in and out, that's not how it works."

"I mean—" Jensen was trying to find her words. Everything felt wrong. "—not while I'm trying to get used to everything."

"What exactly are you getting used to?"

"Do you understand how much changed in my life when this started?" Jensen asked. "How much I gave up? How anxious—" Her voice broke. Hot tears slid down her cheeks. "How anxious I've been this entire trip?"

Miles took a step toward her and reached his hand out. Jensen pulled her hand away without really thinking about it. His hand dropped immediately, not pushing boundaries that she seemed to not want him to. She didn't know whether she wanted to be touched or not.

"I—sorry," Miles said. He hung his head.

"I lost what I knew," Jensen said. "Like you said, you were born into this—" Miles opened his mouth to say something but Jensen held her finger up to silence him. "—and that's not your fault." He closed his mouth and she dropped her hand. "But this isn't my life. I teach drama to kids. Good kids. I film a TV show after school. The highlight of my week is having Friday nights off to go grocery shopping, Miles. My life's not in the spotlight. And for now? That's okay." She ran a finger along her bottom lip. Trying to wash the words away. "I don't need the spotlight. My brain can't even decide if it wants it and we've already filmed the damn movie."

Miles clenched his jaw enough that Jensen could see the muscles flex. "So, what? You're going to Vancouver? Leaving... this behind?"

"Do you mean this as in us or this as in Hollywood?"

"I mean whatever you want to answer."

Jensen stared at her feet again. She hadn't even taken her sneakers off when they got to Miles' house—she didn't know how long she'd stay. "Why was it never Vancouver for you?"

"What?"

"Why was it never Vancouver?" Jensen asked. "Every time you've brought it up, it's been me coming out to LA. It's been me moving in with you. My clothes at your place. My shampoo in your bathroom."

"I've got a lot to do here."

Jensen's heart felt like the shattered pieces were being ground back into sand, slipping through fingers. It felt like Miles was slipping through her fingers too. She stared at him for a moment. "And I don't in Vancouver?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Then explain."

"I just mean... I've got the studio, Jensen," Miles said. "Based here. My life is based here. I don't want to risk not seeing you because of whatever I have to do for work."

"You've proven you can work plenty on the phone."

"That's not fair."

Because it wasn't. Because Jensen never should've said it in the first place. It was a cheap shot—never should have seen the light of day. The knot in her stomach twisted. Hard. She could've vomited then and there. Her chest ached from how fast her heart was beating.

"I don't know what I'm doing there," Miles said. He pressed a hand to his chest. "I don't know what I'm doing. I feel like I'm losing it. Please don't make me lose you too."

"Me going back home doesn't mean you're losing me," Jensen said. "But you can't just ask me to pack up my entire life and expect me to be on board with it."

"I'm sorry, that wasn't right."

"You're damn right it wasn't."

"It wasn't right for you to avoid the conversation either, Jensen."

"I'm sorry," Jensen said. "That wasn't how to treat the situation."

"So... where do we stand?" Miles asked.

Every time Jensen looked up at him, he'd take an interest in his shoes—also not taken off—and every time he looked at her, she'd avoid his gaze. That wasn't how it was supposed to be. And long distance... wasn't Jensen's favourite. She swallowed hard.

"I'm going home," Jensen said. "I have to."

"And then what?"

"It's a one way ticket." Jensen's bottom lip trembled. "I'm not coming back."

"Ever?"

"Not until I can figure out what I'm supposed to do," Jensen said. "What I want to do with my life."

"Can't we figure it out together?" Miles asked. "United front?"

Jensen shook her head. "I need to do this by myself."

"I can help..."

"You're the reason I would stay," Jensen said. "You know that, right? Because you're... you. And I'm me. And we're us."

Miles closed his eyes. "And what are we?"

"We're..." Jensen was glad his eyes were closed because it meant he couldn't see her press her hand to her mouth to prevent a small sob from escaping. "We'll have to figure that out. Another time. When we haven't been yelling at each other."

"I love you, Jensen," Miles said. "I wanted to get used to saying that."

"I love you too," Jensen said. Her chest felt heavy—the Hollywood sign holding her captive under a fallen O. Making it harder to breathe. "But I really need to figure this out before I can do anything else."

When he opened his eyes again, tears fell. Instinctively, Jensen reached to wipe them away. Miles flinched. His entire body tensed, shoulders high. Near his ears. Eyes closed again.

"Miles," Jensen breathed. Barely above a whisper. She took a step away from him as his eyes opened again. "I would never..."

"Jensen—"

"I should go."

"You can't just wander around California at night," Miles said. "You'll get killed."

"I'll catch a cab," Jensen said. Because the last thing she wanted was to make Miles feel trapped in his own home. The thought made her sick to her stomach. She needed to stop crying if any cab driver was going to pick her up. Miles needed to stop looking at her the way he was.

Watery eyes. Red cheeks. Down turned lips. Tense shoulders risen practically to his ears. Miles stared at her like she was stabbing him with pieces of her shattered heart. Jensen would rather he look at her like he didn't know her. She'd rather he tell her to leave and not come back. Because staring at her like that and not saying anything... Jensen could've crumbled into a pile of dust.

"I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to keep you here against your will," Miles said. Gently. Which almost made Jensen feel worse. Almost. The blotches on his neck were starting to poke out from his collar. "But you can't just go wander around at... at God knows what hour it is."

"I'll go to a hotel," Jensen said. She shook her head. "I just... don't want to be here. I can't... I don't... being somewhere you can't escape is suffocating. I don't want to do that to you."

"I've felt suffocated where I've lived before," Miles said. "You could never make me feel that way. Whether we're fighting or not."

"I just... I need to clear my head."

"Are you coming back?"

Jensen winced. "I've got an early flight."

Miles pressed his lips together. Nodded. Like he simultaneously understood and wanted to yell out into the open in his backyard. "Take a car. From the garage."

"Miles—"

"Please," Miles said. "I don't care if you leave it unlocked at the airport with the keys inside. I just... you have control if you're driving. I mean. Better control."

Jensen swallowed hard. "You don't have to do that."

"I do," Miles said. "You wanting to leave is my fault too."

"I..." Jensen felt her exhaustion setting in. But getting out of his house was priority one. Miles feeling safe under his own roof was exactly what he needed. She wanted to feel like she could breathe. Take a moment to regroup. "Do you care which car?"

If she didn't have a flight back to Vancouver, she probably would have come back. Talked it out. One of them probably would have made a stupid joke about how they bickered like an old married couple. The one who didn't make the joke would've added "on steroids." And they would have laughed and apologized (again) and kissed and made up. At least, that's what Jensen was assuming. She and Miles hadn't fought before. Frankly, she didn't want to fight again if they made it through what was happening.

No one had said the words "over" or "done" or "finished." That meant they were just going through the motions, right? That they were okay?

It seemed inappropriate to ask for clarification before Jensen left.

Miles shook his head. Stuffing his hand in his pocket, he pulled out the keys from what they'd driven back in. "Here."

Before Jensen could step forward, Miles tossed them in her direction. Lightly. Easy enough to catch. Jensen looked down at her hands before her eyes were back on Miles. "Do you want your house key?"

"I've got another one," Miles said. "Keep it. For if you change your mind... about leaving or, you know, or other."

Jensen nodded. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything. Always."

"The field trip..." Jensen said. "Are you going to be there?"

Miles' eyebrows knit together. "I have to go to London. For a premiere."

"We'll find another time to talk then?" Jensen didn't want it to sound like a question. But it did. Because she was unsure of where they stood—she'd been the one who said they would figure it out.

Her brain wouldn't let her yell that she just wanted to be with him because she was upset and trying to figure out what she wanted with her life. The latter decision wasn't something to be chosen based on her boyfriend. It wasn't something to be based on anything but her own feelings.

"We'll figure it out," Miles said. His hands balled and unballed at his side. If he'd reached out for her then, Jensen wasn't sure she would have refused.

Jensen nodded and walked over to her suitcase. Grabbing the handle a day earlier than she thought she was going to. The wheels were loud against Miles' hardwood floors, just loud enough that Jensen's heartbeat was drowned out. She didn't need to hear it telling her to stay. It was the last thing she needed.

"Jensen?"

Jensen froze in her tracks, hand on the doorknob. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry it was never Vancouver."

Jensen didn't reply as she opened the door.

Miles hadn't even parked in the garage. He'd wanted to be out of the car as soon as possible. Avoiding any paparazzi that could have been lingering outside his gate. Jensen braced herself for flashing lights as she piled her suitcase in the back of the car and hopped in the driver's seat.

Taking a moment to see how she felt, Jensen could feel the puffiness of her eyes. Likely red to the iris. A headache pounded behind her eyes; though that could've just been more swelling. Her chest ached from fighting sobs, her vocal cords screamed to never be used again. Specifically in that tone. And especially if it was toward Miles. Jensen had to agree.

Staring the engine in the car was hard. Not that Jensen wasn't at ease that Ichiro was one of Miles' smaller cars and more like hers at home. But the idea of driving away nagged at her brain. She could've just got back out. Not bothered to grab her suitcase because Miles would've lent her anything she needed. Driving away didn't need to be part of their story. Jensen didn't need to leave him alone the night they had their first fight.

But she did. Drove out of the driveway before she could overthink it. She was protecting him from her brain. And when she sorted out her brain, that's when she and Miles could figure things out. At least, that's what she was going to tell herself to keep from crying again.

When Jensen was out of the gated community, she pulled over not too far away. Taking her phone out of her back pocket, Jensen clicked on quickly. Trying to ignore the 4:24 at the top of her screen as she opened up her maps. Where was she planning on going? A hotel? She knew that the Best Western was only ten minutes away. That could've worked.

But there was one place nagging her. Begging her to drive there. Telling her it was exactly where she was meant to be because she wasn't going to sleep anyway. Might as well not waste the money on a room for the night.

She didn't know the address. How to get there from where she was. But she knew the name. Her phone did the rest.

Driving at four in the morning was a simple task, really. Ignoring how tired she felt was the hard part. There were barely any cars on the road. Streetlights illuminated empty streets.

It seemed peaceful.

Which seemed insulting given how upset Jensen was.

It was a weird thing to think about. The world going on like nothing had happened behind closed doors. Like Jensen hadn't just experienced the first time her and Miles hadn't been on the same page. Then again, they hadn't been on the same page for a while, had they? It had been a couple weeks since Miles had asked her to move to Los Angeles. There was no denying that, despite their avoidance of it, they hadn't been on the same page since that moment.

Turning on the radio seemed like all she could do to block out her thoughts. Flicking stations to try to find a song that wasn't about love was the hard part.

"You'd think that people would've had enough of silly—"

"You've got that James Dean daydream—"

"I don't care who you are, where you're from—"

"I've loved you forever in lifetimes before—"

Jensen had never cried to Fleetwood Mac before, but when she heard "you can go your own way," tears filled her eyes. She slammed a hand on the radio to turn it off. Luckily, she was just around the corner from where she needed to go. Pulling up in front of the building, her heart was pounding in her chest.

Jensen wasn't sure she wanted to get out of the car now that she was there. Taking a few deep breaths, she unbuckled her seatbelt. Another few and she opened the door. Somewhere between breaths, she knocked in the door. A light in the back of a shop had never made Jensen so nervous. Neither had making eye contact with someone.

"Miss Rhodes?" Bram examined her face for a moment. Jensen didn't even want to imagine what she looked like.

"Hey, Bram," Jensen said, "um..."

Bram smiled kindly. A twinkle of sadness in his eyes. He stepped out of the way of the door, an arm holding it open. "Come in. Make yourself comfortable."

"Are you sure?"

"You're a friend of Milo and D," Bram said. "Of course."

"I—thanks." Jensen walked past him and Bram closed the door behind her.

He led her to the back where two chairs were sitting. "Hungry? I have some I'm Very Drunk's ready."

"I'm okay. Thanks."

Bram sat down and motioned to the other chair. Jensen sat across from him. Wrapping her hands around her stomach.

"How can I help, Miss Rhodes?"

"I just... I don't know," Jensen said. "I just wanted to see a friendly face."

"You're in the right place," Bram said. "But Milo isn't one?"

"Not that he isn't... but we butt heads earlier. Hard."

"I see." Bram nodded. "Anything you'd like to talk about?"

"Can I ask a question?"

"Don't see why not."

"Do you know Robert?"

Bram scoffed. "Do I ever. What's he done this time?"

"Nothing recent. Besides the studio."

"Dayna called me about that," Bram said. "Bullshit."

"Did Robert ever hit Miles?" Jensen asked. She couldn't get the image of Miles wincing out of her head. She never would have touched him that way. Hitting someone she loved was never going to be a solution. It was never something she could live with if she did it. If she had, Miles and her wouldn't be talking again. Because he deserved better than that. No matter how they felt about each other.

"He didn't have to," Bram said. He tapped his hand on his knee. "Robert knew what he was doing. Milo was scared enough."

"That's awful." Jensen wished she had the energy to drive back.

"Robert didn't want kids. That much was clear," Bram said. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't think it was going to get to the point of him giving Milo a smack. Milo did too. Deciding never to speak to his father again was the best decision that boy ever made."

"He said Robert didn't make the effort."

"Milo moved out of Robert's house during spring break when he was almost done his masters," Bram said. "His graduation gift to himself was an empty house to come home to. Bought it with the money Robert paid him to stay out of his hair."

"I didn't know that."

"Considering Dayna and I went to his graduation," Bram said, "I think that's decidedly not making an effort to be in your son's life."

"Yeah," Jensen said. She stared at her hands. Would going back make things better or worse?

"Pardon me if it's not my place," Bram said, "but you look exhausted, Miss Rhodes. I've got a couch in the office. Would you like to get some sleep?"

"I..." Jensen shook her head. "Do you want some help with the rest of the baking?"

Bram gave her the same sad smile he had when she'd first walked in. "Sure, dear."

Jensen's phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out quickly. One message. No more than that.

please just let me know you're somewhere safe.

I am. Promise.

Jensen swallowed hard as she pocketed her phone again.

"Everything okay?" Bram asked.

Jensen nodded. Softly. Like she wasn't quite convinced. "Where's the sink?"

Bram motioned to where the sink was behind her.

And so Jensen washed her hands. Helped Bram make scones until the store opened. He didn't ask any questions. Which Jensen appreciated. The sun came up at some point. Before she knew it, she needed to go to the airport. Bram gave her a hug. And a scone to-go.

The drive to LAX didn't take too long. She left the keys in the car unlocked. Like Miles had asked her to. Even if it made her feel awful.

Everything made her feel awful. Rolling her suitcase away. Going through security. Waiting at the gate. Jensen felt the knot in her stomach tighten as she boarded the plane. There was no scene where she got off the plane and drove back to Miles. Miles didn't show up and beg her not to board. No Hollywood ending where Jensen didn't board her flight. 

When she sat down, she pulled her phone out from her pocket once again. Opened her messages with Liberty. Jensen typed quickly.

I have so much I need to tell you.