I wake up to my head rising and falling. Why am I awake? I move my hand up and down, feeling where my head is. Quickly I realise I am on Noah's chest and Noah is wearing a shirt. I look up at him, and he is still asleep, I smile feeling content. But I hear something outside of the room, making me panic. I jump up, staring at the bottom of the door.

"Phoebe?" Noah's raspy voice does something to me, but I'm feeling too anxious. "What's wrong?" He sits up, putting his hand on my back.

"I heard something. It's nothing." I wave off my anxious thoughts, looking away from the door. I look at Noah, and he gives me a soft smile. "It's probably just my sister's getting a snack." I chuckle to myself, laying back down on Noah's chest.

"Go back to sleep," Noah says, moving the hair away from my face and hugging me tighter. I watch the door, falling asleep.

I wake up again, feeling Noah's fingers run up and down my back slowly. The sensation sends chills through my body, making me shake suddenly. He stops what he is doing to pull the blankets over me and starts running his fingers through my hair. I look up at him, smiling at his tired face.

"Good morning," I say, feeling content.

"Morning." Noah's sleepy voice sends chills through my body. "How do you feel?" He asks, tucking the strands of hair behind my ear. I smile, closing my eyes as his thumb brushes against my cheek. I don't answer, cause honestly, I don't know how I feel. Instead, I roll over and sit up. I look at my phone, and it's eight in the morning.

"I should get up, and uh, you should get ready for work." I stood up and put on my robe. It's chilly in here... I hug myself, trying to get warm.

"I'm on call today," Noah says, standing up and stretching. His shirt lifts showing his defined V line. I bite the side of my lip, quickly looking away from him.

I leave the room, walking around the dark apartment. My ankle is sore, but it's not as bad as it was yesterday. I turn the corner, jamming my hip.

I inhale a sharp breath, grabbing my hip. "Fuck." I loudly say through gritted teeth, Noah quickly rushes to me, but I wave him off. "I'm fine- I'm fine. I just hit the corner of the counter."

"You sure?" Noah asks again, and I nod my head. "Okay." He drops the conversation as I grab the orange juice out of the fridge.

I don't know if I should tell Noah about these symptoms I've been having. Lately, I feel anxious with headaches and these crazy mood swings. But I don't want to worry him; he has enough on his plate already. I pour a drink for him and me, finding myself craving the taste of alcohol.

Noah walks up, grabbing the drink and walking away from me. "Has Officer Hudges called you back?"

"Um- no. No, she hasn't." I take a sip of my drink, feeling anxious, just thinking about it.

"I would call her and see what the plan is. Do they have officers watching him, are officers watching you. Is there a restraining order? What-"

"Noah!" I loudly say, stopping him from talking. "Please, just. Just stop." I bang the glass on the counter, breaking it. Fuck! I feel the glass enter my hand, but I don't move. Instead, I make a fist, feeling warm liquid drip onto the counter.

We stare at each other in silence. I shake my head, embarrassed and angry. I don't want him seeing my hand. I need to do something to let this stress out.

"I am going back to work next week-" I randomly day, putting the empty glass in the sink. "After the girls leave, I will be travelling to Yemen." I stand behind the sink, watching his reaction.

"Phoebe, you're not going to Yemen." Noah scoffs like he has some say in the matter.

"Noah, this is my job. I have been to worse places-"

"But you had your spleen then! You don't have it anymore-" Noah lifts his hands, "Your immune system is weak. Just getting into the airport can corrupt your system." Noah stands up, walking closer to me. I instinctively put my injured hand behind my back.

"I can't stop living because you took my organ away from me!" I yell as he stands right in front of me.

"I took it away? Me?" Noah asks, pointing at himself. "I saved your life, Phoebe! You almost died on the table!" Noah yells louder, making me worried that my sisters are awake listening to this. "Last time I checked, I wasn't the man that put you in that situation!" He shouts near my face making me shut up immediately. Water is filling in my eyes, and within seconds Noah realises what he just said to me. He goes to say something, but I hold my hand out in front of him. My injured hand...

"Don't." I shake my head, moving away from him. Noah looks distraught, and he should be... He tries to reach out to me, but I stop him. "Don't touch me." I spit out, pure venom running through me.

I walk into our room, slam the door behind me and fall to the floor. I slump to the ground, crawling slowly into a ball. I am crying- hard.

I am crying that Jay made bail and that I am in so much pain. The pain that he caused. The pain that I create myself. I am crying because of what Noah said. I am crying over everything... Everything that I have been holding in.

After a while, I stop crying. Now I am just laying on the ground staring at my bloody hand. It has stopped bleeding, but I notice the few glass pieces in my palm. I know Noah is concerned for me. Ready to fix me at any chance he gets. But I lay on the floor, finding comfort in doing this... It's what I am used to-

Noah knocks on the door, talking to me through the wood separating us.

"Phoebe." Noah pauses, "I'm sorry." His voice appears like he is sitting on the floor with me. He sounds so remorseful. "I was upset thinking about you being in Yemen. Just-" Noah lets out a sigh, "Just every time I hear a city or a country in the Middle East, I get flashbacks from being in the war."

I sit up in pain, quietly putting my back to the door. "Phoebe, I saw too many horrible things over there. That no man or women should see, just- please open the door." I look up at the ceiling, closing my eyes. "Baby, I know your hand is injured, please. Open the door." Noah whispers, making me want to roll my eyes.

I stand up, unlocking the door and slowly opening it. Noah stumbles standing up in front of me. I walk around him, go into the bathroom and sit down on the edge of the bathtub. I look down at the floor and Noah walks over with a bag in his hand.

Noah turns on all of the bathroom lights. He washes my hand and takes out a pair of tweezers that were soaking in a clear solution. He takes out the pieces of glass, and once he is positive, that there is nothing left in my palm, he cleans out my hand once more.

"You don't need stitches, so I will just wrap it up," Noah whispers, taking a white bandage and pressing it to my hand, then he wraps it up and tapes it shut. "There you go." He says, picking up the supplies. I stood up, walked into our room and lay down on the bed. After a few minutes, Noah walks into our room and closes the door behind him. He cleans the small pile of blood off the floor and walks over to the bed.

"Phoebe," Noah whispers, sitting by my feet. "What I said was out of line, I- I'm sorry." He puts his hand on my leg, looking at me. When I don't answer, he nods his head standing up and walks to the door.

"Noah," I whisper, making him stop in the doorway. "What you said is true," I say honestly, knowing that he is entirely right as always. Noah turns around looking at me with pure confusion. I don't understand why I got so upset and angry...

I sit up, reaching my hand out to him...

"You did save my life- fuck. If I were left there longer, I would have died. Who knows who would have found my body..." Noah shakes his head, not wanting to think about that. "I, I don't want to accept this. I can't accept everything Jay has done to me. He took my home, he took my dignity, and he took a damn organ from me." Water fills my eyes and Noah pulls me into a tight hug.

"But I won't let him take my life," I whisper into Noah's shirt.

-

* If you liked this chapter, please consider giving it a vote and answering the questions below. *

-

Hi! I feel like this is a filler chapter, but I think it was necessary. Noah and Phoebe argue, and Phoebe is struggling a lot.

Questions:

1. Do you think Phoebe will go to Yemen?

2. Why do you think Noah doesn't want her going to the Middle East?

Thank you!

- Anna