The sun was barely over the horizon when Hank woke. He could see the dark sky greying between the sliver of the shades. Josie lay splayed across his chest. From the even rhythm of her breath, he knew she was still asleep. He lay still for a few moments, feeling her warmth radiate deeper into him. Her tiny hands twitched on his chest. He carefully and slowly shifted his body, so she lay on the bed undisturbed. Before he left, he leaned down, giving her temple a gentle kiss.

Hank rushed through his shower, eager to get to the fresh air outside. Josie had an intoxicating presence for him; his head felt clouded with a hangover. There would be more than enough to do today between the yard and the storm windows. He set out to begin with the windows. It would take an hour to get them pulled down from the garage and cleaned up.

Hank enjoyed the solitude of the work. The lugging of the cumbersome windows only focused his thoughts on the task at hand. But as he set to wiping them free of cobwebs, his mind wandered back to Josie, Peter, Margaret, and Henry, about how their lives intertwined and then shattered. As if on cue, one of the glass panes shattered, sending jagged shards over Hank's hand and to the ground below. He paused for a moment, watching blood spill from the back of his hand. It wasn't deep and didn't hurt, but the crimson still looked gruesome on his pale skin.

"Hank, you're bleeding," Josie was speeding towards him.

"No." He reached out his unblemished hand and caught her before she got too near. He quickly pulled her from the ground up to his chest. "There is glass everywhere, and you have no damn shoes on," his words came out gruffer, with the adrenaline coursing through him.

"This from the man that has cut himself twice in a matter of days."

"It's nothing." He glanced down and could see that the bleeding was already stopping. He moved out of the range of glass and set Josie down carefully. "Sorry," he added mournfully at his abrasiveness.

Josie giggled at him, "you apologize for the strangest things."

Hank let out a sigh as she pulled him back to the house. "I don't care for how often you laugh at me."

"I can't help it; your aloofness is adorable."

Hank couldn't recall anyone ever attaching the word adorable to him. Even when he was a kid, the term was never in his realm. Bella had been adorable. Josie, he was sure, had been adorable. He had been Henry. He continued to ponder this as she cleaned his hand.

"You don't have to take care of me," he murmured as she carefully bandaged his hand. Josie looked up at him with the unmistakable look of pain on her face before turning and leaving. "Josie..." He called after her tentatively, unsure of what had happened. Her wake pulled him to the kitchen, where she was busying herself with the kettle and toast. "You don't have to make breakfast. I can..." She shot him another look before slamming the kettle down on the stovetop. "What have I done?" He leaned against the counter in defeat.

"I know you don't need me, Hank, but I thought last night meant you wanted me." The hurt was welling in her eyes.

"What? I do. Of course, I do." He reached out just in time to catch her hip, grasping it and pulling her into him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." He paused as she avoided his gaze. He lifted her chin tenderly with his finger until she was level with him. "Please be patient with me. I am not used to someone caring for me." Tears spilled over her cheeks as she crashed into his chest. "I'm sorry, I'll be better." His voice was in a panic as he tightened his arms around her, hoping she wouldn't pull away.

A laugh erupted from Josie, and he could feel her head shaking back and forth against his chest. "You are what, going to be better at being needy?"

The absurdity of the statement made a laugh bubble from Hank as well. "You're right." She met his gaze now as he brushed her hair from her face, letting his hand linger in a caress of her cheek. "I apologize for ridiculous things." He pulled her in tightly and kissed the crown of her head. "I just don't want you to think you have to..."

"Hank, I want to help you. I want to help Clara." Her eyes were wide with innocence as she gazed up at him. She drew him to her. Their lips met in a delicate dance that warmed him to his toes. As he pulled away, he faltered. "What is it, Hank?"

He sighed, not knowing if he should even make the request. "Would it be ok if we just told Clara you were staying? Nothing more, not yet." He regretted the request instantly.

"Because you want to keep me a secret?" But the hurt didn't fill her eyes; the question came out as a tease.

"Because I want to keep it special, just for a bit. Clara will be..."

"Too happy?"

"Something like that?" A smile spread across Hank's face.

"There's the smile I love." Josie lifted a hand to allow a finger to glide across a dimple. "Special," she agreed as the kettle whistled at them.