The library was a lot more crowded than Clarke expected, but she'd promised Murphy and need to take better care of Wells. This was the least she could do. She took twenty minutes to find the GED prep books while she waited for a computer to free up. Typing hurt her forearms, but that didn't stop her from looking up the information she needed. The fee for the test wasn't beyond their current means and the next that she could get into was in two months. If she spent all her free time studying, she might be able to pass.

Her body, more specifically every orifice ached, so she popped a couple morphine and dry swallowed them, leaving a film of medicine in her mouth that tasted foul. She wrote down the information she needed on a scrap of paper and checked out the books before heading home. Clarke needed to get some sleep before having to go back out tonight. They only had the one trick last night and needed more money.

As she walked home, she hugged the books to her chest. They were her only hope for salvation. The only way out of selling herself to take care of her little family.

Wells watched Clarke sleep next to Murphy and couldn't stop the nagging feeling in his gut. She'd been so despondent lately. No matter how hard things had gotten for them, she'd always had a positive spin for everything, but that wasn't so anymore. He hadn't seen her smile in over a week. Not even a forced one.

"Why are you so unhappy?" he mused to himself, but Anya heard him.

She took pity on him and said, "She's sacrificed to keep your little family safe. It'll take her time to come to terms with what she's done."

"What sacrifice?" Wells asked.

"Think about it. You'll get it." Anya turned the page in one of Clarke's library books and did the math in her head. Maybe she could convince Clarke and Murphy to pay for her to take the GED too. But she didn't want to make them do more than they already were.

Wells stood up and went over to Clarke's coat. He emptied the pockets and found a bottle of morphine, a wad of cash, and several condoms. Clarke moaned as she turned over and he looked at her sadly. "I never wanted her to do this."

"And there's nothing her and Murphy wouldn't do for you." Anya turned another page. "Do a breathing treatment. You're wheezing."

"They're both tricking?"

"What did you think they were doing at night?" she asked flipping forward to a more challenging section, English.

"They lied."

"Well, they know how you feel about rules." She gave up on trying to read the book and set it aside. "They know the score. If they tried to get legit jobs or even under the table jobs, they'd never be able to pay for your treatment and a place to stay. You'd die. They can't live without you."

He set up his treatment so he could get the breath to respond to her. After several deep inhalations he pulled the mouthpiece away and said, "How can I help them?"

"Don't make them feel bad about what they're doing." Anya turned in her stool to face him. "Take care of yourself so they can stop one day."

Two weeks later and Wells could go whole days without having to use more than his rescue inhaler. He hadn't told either Murphy or Clarke that he knew what they were doing at night. And Anya was nice enough to not say anything either. When he got out of the shower he found her packing her bags.

"Where are you going?" Wells asked.

"Home. You're better, so there's no reason for me to stay."

"Do you have money for the bus?"

"Clarke and Murphy pay their debts." Anya hugged him. "Take care of them."

"I will. But shouldn't we wake them up so you can say goodbye?"

Anya smirked. "I said goodbye to them last night."

"Thank you, Anya."

"You know where to find me if you need anything." She gave him a salute before walking out the door.

Wells ran the dishwasher, wiped down the counters and stove, and cleaned the blood out of the bottom of the fridge from the chicken he was about to cook. The chicken was half done when Murphy opened his eyes. "That smells great."

"Thanks. I hope it tastes as good. My cooking skills atrophied." Wells flipped the breasts over in the pan.

Murphy rolled out of bed and scratched his stomach. "I'm sure it's fine." He walked up behind Wells and wrapped his arms around his waist and rest his chin on Wells' shoulder. "Looks good."

"Hope it tastes OK." Wells rested his head on Murphy's. "Why don't you wake Clarke up and get cleaned up for dinner, or breakfast, or whatever this meal is."

John kissed the place where Wells' neck met his shoulder. "On it."

After shoving her and getting no response, Murphy yelled at Clarke, "Get up. Dinner."

She didn't respond, so he checked her breathing and temperature. She was warm but her breathing was almost nonexistent. "Clarke!" he shouted as he shook her. "Wells call 911."

Wells turned the flame off and grabbed their cell phone and made the call while John carried Clarke into the shower and doused her with cold water. She violently shook awake and screamed.

"You're OK," Murphy said sweeping her drenched hair back. "I got you. What happened?"

Clarke clutched Murphy's arms and continued to gasp for air coughing when she got mist in her lungs. Finally she got her head positioned away from the water and breathed better.

Wells stepped into the bathroom with a pill bottle in his hand. He turned it over spilling some tightly rolled paper out of it. "She snorted some."

"How many?" John demanded as he grabbed the sides of her face. "How many pills did you snort?"

"I don't remember." Clarke rested her forehead on his. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The paramedics were banging on the door, so Wells let them in and showed them to Clarke. They pulled her out of the bathroom and took her blood pressure and temperature, checked her eyes, and fingernails. They asked her a battery of questions and she claimed what happened was an accident, but they didn't believe her. The woman went to talk to Murphy and Wells. "We believe this was a suicide attempt. If she won't sign herself in, we'll have to commit her."

"You can't do that!" Murphy was panicking. "They'll take her away."

Tears pricked at the corners of Wells' eyes. "She'll be eighteen in less than a month. If I promise to not let her out of my sight, can we take care of her here?"

"I'm sorry." The woman shook her head. "Do you know how to get in touch with her parents?"

"I'll call them." Wells turned to Murphy who was still shouting at them with the other paramedic holding him back. He touched Murphy's shoulder, and the boy fell into his arms.

"Don't let them take her."

It was almost a battle to calm Murphy down, but it didn't happen before they took Clarke away in the ambulance.