-A January evening, 7:30 PM, Claire and Leon's Apartment-

"What are you getting at?!" Leon retorted at Claire, punctuated with a dismissive roll of the eyes.

"Are you kidding me Leon?!" She snapped back, genuinely insulted at the implication. Conscious of the fact Sherry was in the adjacent room, she lowered her voice to a borderline growl which slipped through her clenched teeth. "Have you listened to a single freakin' thing I've been saying to you?"

"Well, yeah. But...it-"

"But what?!" she whipped back, voice rising in pitch to match the scowl taking form upon her face. Initially a room apart, they were now within arms reach of one another.

Leon retreated into himself in a sudden moment of clarity juxtaposed against the tension of the arguement. He swore up and down he had listened to all she had to say, but failed to take to heart what she was really trying to get across to him. She had been skirting around and dropping not-so-subtle hints about...moving forward for weeks now. Not betweem them necessarily, but towards the future in general. However, they both were keenly, if not mutually aware their futures would be intertwined with one another's. He did his best to keep their conversations confined to abstractions and generalizations, pulling back whenever Claire felt she was getting a glimpse of how he really felt about...everything.

Leon restablished footing in the present moment as a feeling not quite unlike embarrasement, but not that of defeat washed over him. His annoyed smirk faded in unison with the tension in his neck and shoulders. His gaze met the floor, rebounded in an attempt to reconnect with Claire's prying eyes, before retreating back the floor again. Claire studied Leon and not only took notice of, but understood what his change of posture was communicating. She herself was taken aback with a sudden clarity, but emotion was the clear winner in this battle. Despite sincere protest, tears began taking form in the inner corner of her eyes. Her vision moved towards the corner of the kitchen table barely visible from the living room, before returning to meet Leon's now prying gaze.

He extended his left hand toward Claire's shoulder. "Claire, I think we nee-"

She jerked her shoulder away and took a half-step back the second the tip of his fingers made contact. Leon withdrew his hand but left it hover in the growing distance between the two. "I just...I want to be alone right now, ok?!" she said as her mounting frustration made itself heard. Claire dreaded nothing more than the thought of showing any vulnerability, the discomfort building inside her by the millisecond. Overwhelmed and increasingly claustrophobic within the confines of the situation at hand, she attempted to slink past Leon. Reflexively, Leon caught and grasped Claire by her wiry wrist. Leon was just as surprised at the impulsiveness as was Claire. While he was stunned with shock, she slipped her wrist through his thumb and forefinger faster than he could think to release his grip.

Eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, Leon attempted to sound out an apology. "I'm sor-"

"Just please...let me go..." Claire replied in an anxious yet subdued tone as she restrained herself from shouting.

Brushing away the tears, she made way towards the apartment door. Halfway out the door, she craned her head back. "I'm going out...just, please...stay hom-" before being cut off by a sniffle which brought with it even more tears.

"Hey, wait!", Leon interjected. Quickly exiting his field of view, he could hear the thudding of her boots descending the stairwell, soon followed by the light slam and click of the door as momentum brought it to a close. His right hand motioned toward the door through no input of his own, but he brought himself to a stop and let out a sigh. "Shit" he worded under his breath as he rubbed his brow. His instinct was to give chase to Claire, but he understood it would just make the dramatic situation even worse. Besides, she could obviously handle herself, taking mental note of how quick she was on her feet. He took a deep breath and seated himself on the couch. He cupped his hands together with his elbows on thighs, forming a seal around his nose, forefingers rubbing the inner corners of his eyes. "Why doesn't anybody listen to me?", he brooded as he felt the gravity of the situation weighing him down.

Leon sulked in that position for what seemed like an hour ruminating over what it was really all about. No particular train of thought or replayed scenario held his attention; only an overarching realization; he was boxed in, understanding everything was now on the line. Sure, call it a mistake, but what do you call a mistake you make time and time again? A decision. All the times he had pulled away from Claire, leaving her hanging from the tattered and tangled rope ladder of her own uncertainties. Overwhelmed with sheer emotion fueled by his actions and insecurities, he began to crack. Much like a crack forming in drywall it was miniscule, only spidering in a slow, minute creep as it grew weary of the burden it was designed to support.

Claire was his world, even if he didn't admit to it. Chalk it up the mutual circumstances, the sheer attraction...he was in love, madly at that. Over the last three months... all they've been through; all throughout he tried his hardest to keep a stoic persona about him. He justified to himself that he was acting as he was for Claire, to help her navigate through her own healing process. She was a tough girl, her tomboyish resourcefulness and wits continuously impressing him. He knew she valued her independence; it was the capstone of her personality after all. She didn't need a therapist, she needed someone like...uhhmm. Leon's train of thought came to an abrupt halt as he drew a blank. "Why the hell didn't I just listen to her...?" he lip-synced but kept his voice confined to his mind.

"What have I done?" he interrogated himself, visualizing himself as a prisoner locked in the jail cell that was his own head. The seemingly innocent metaphor reanimated and unleashed a flood of memories from that single day he was an officer. His mind raced as he relived all the horrifying moments he had struggled to push out of his mind, as if they never happened. He began to entertain the thought he wasn't doing it for her, but rather using the persona as a mask to avoid facing the reality of the world as it was; and how it is now.

A sense of dread presided over him and took command of his thought process, bringing him out of his headspace and back into the world. He became aware of the patterns and colors taking shape from the rubbing in the dark canvas of his closed eyes. Upon opening his eyes, the halogen light beaming from the fixture above flooded his vision as he took in all the details of the room, where every object now seemed to have a cartoonish outline. He took an instinctive peek at his watch, which affirmed only 12 minutes had passed. Slowly, he lifted himself off the couch and scanned the alien feeling room. Shaking his head, he thought, "Maybe a drink wouldn't be such a bad idea...".

He made a beeline for the kitchen, and upon entering his vision homed in on the cabinet above the fridge. A sensation of warmth radiating from his core swept over his body as he grabbed the small bottle of whiskey and his favorite shot glass. He knew he would have to speak to Sherry soon to let her know what was going on, and assured himself he would limit the drinking to a single shot. He set the bottle and glass alongside the sink, and remembered he had left a half can of cola on the table an hour prior. He spun around to grab the can, but his eyes were met with a twinkle of light shimmering off the exposed steel of Claire's Smith and Wesson nestled in her drop-leg holster. "How the hell...?" He chided himself for not catching it on his way in. In his defense the worn, tawny leather of the holster blended in well with the scuffed finish of the secondhand kitchen table.

Leon's heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Claire wouldn't have left the apartment without her handgun, no way in hell. Not after everything that's happened. Unless, maybe...she did leave without it. A surge of adrenaline shot an acute wave of warmth up from chest to his face as worry took grip of his consciousness. He scrambled to their living room window, which gave him a panoramic view the complex's parking lot. It took almost no time for him to identify the outline of the Jeep they shared. A streelight in the alleyway running alonside the parking lot enveloped the vehicle with its shine. Face so close to the window, a layer of condensation had formed. He took the opportunity to wipe the somewhat spotty window with his sleeve and reoriented himself to get a better view, right hand now acting a visor. He could clearly see the outline of a person reclined in the driver seat, as well as the faint glow of the LED lights on the dashboard. He shifted his feet towards the apartment entrance but stopped himself, remembering Sherry was still in her bedroom.

"Sherry...". He allowed himself a deep breath and a moment to compose himself. He made his way to her bedroom door and knocked gently, simultaneously asking "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, you can come in..." Sherry replied with an inflection that revealed genuine concern.

Leon entered the blue-painted bedroom adorned in all sorts of cutesy child's memorabilia. Closing the gap between the door and the bed where Sherry sat upright, he sheepishly asked her, "How ya' doin'?" as he feigned a half smile. He was at a loss how he should address her. Sherry held no such pretense of subtlety.

"What's wrong?! Why are you guys fighting? Is it because of me?" Sherry implored at a mile-a-minute pace. Leon's heart sunk into his chest, inundated with sympathy for the poor girl's anxiousness.

"No, it's nothing you did. It's... it's complicated...". Fumbling with his own thoughts, he wished he could explain with better detail in a way Sherry's young self could understand.

"Why is Claire mad at you? Why did she slam the door?!", Sherry said, begging for immediate answers. Leon took notice of distress visible in her eyes. Leon took a knee and placed his hands over her shoulders. Now eye level with Sherry, he said in a hushed, consoling tone, "I haven't been the best to Claire. I've let her down...hard." Despite all the rumination, he himself was shocked by the poignancy of the simple recounting. Sherry stared at Leon, craving a more elaborate explanation.

"Uhh...uhmm...listen,...Claire didn't leave. She's in the parking lot. I'm gonna' try and make things right..." he said, punctuated by a sigh. While serving as a sufficient answer for her questions, he was mindful that his reply served as a confession of what he needed to do himself.

Sherry was satisfied with his answer, but a new anxiety brought forth a new concern. "How long are you going to be gone?"

Leon embraced Sherry in a hug and assured her, "I'll only be a few minutes. Do you think you can take care of yourself while I'm gone?"

What bothered Sherry wasn't being alone, but the thought of change,... Claire and Leon not being together. She had grown extremely attached to the couple, coming to view them in the same way she had viewed her late parents. While she was practically attached at the hip to Claire, she had grown quite close to Leon. Even at her young age, she was well aware of the speed at which life can drastically change. She was growing to understand the tenuous order of the world after her experiences. Sherry wasn't clueless; even though she didn't quite understand, she empathized with Leon and knew adults have spats for reasons just outside the reach of her comprehension. Regardless, what mattered to her most was seeing the couple reunited; in the same room, together, and soon.

"Yeah... I'll be ok...Will Claire be with you when you get back?"

"I promise.", Leon said with a warm yet authoritative tone. "Keep the door locked. If you need anything, we'll be right outside."

Sherry complied with Leon's directions, opting to remain silent. Leon rose to his feet and made his way out the door. While turning the knob, he looked back to Sherry. "I'...we'll only be a few.", he reaffirmed, eyes breaking contact with Sherry's as he took a quick glance at the floor. He closed the door gently and made his way to the kitchen. He did not want Claire to see the whiskey, nor for it to be out around Sherry. Being mindful of any creaks the hardwood floor would resonate, he grabbed the glass and bottle and stepped lightly over to the impromptu alcohol cabinet. Slowly, he opened the tiny door and returned the two partners in crime back to their rightful place out of view, huddled away in the furthest corner. Admittedly, he was just the slightest bit proud of himself for showing that modicum of restraint. He inhaled deeply and made his way to the apartment door.