For the first time in what feels like forever, Tyrone's dreams are pleasant. They're a muddle of memories and fantasy, not making any sense – Evita playing ball with him and his brother, Tandy in a St. Sebastian cap and gown – but they're bright and warm and he actually sleeps through the night.

There's no part of him that wants to get up, even when the smell of bacon wafts upstairs, but he'll get hell if he's late to practice again, so he forces his eyes open. Tandy's face is mere inches from his and he nearly screams. He jolts backward, putting distance between them. She's sound asleep, the sleeves of his hoodie curled around her fists and tucked under her chin. Ty realizes he's in the guest bedroom, his bedsheet tangled around his legs.

Stupid fricking magic.

His limbs are totally frozen, though his heart feels like it's beating hard enough to shake his entire skeleton. Should he move? Well, yes, obviously he should get the hell out of here. Doing that without waking Tandy is the issue. A dozen Mission Impossible-esque scenarios play out in his head before he remembers the bedsheet around his feet. Duh.

At a snail's pace, Ty reaches for the sheet and pulls it up his body. He listens carefully to Tandy's breathing, expecting her to wake up any second, but she doesn't move. Ty finds that odd. She told him that she's a light sleeper. Being homeless means she has to be – always on edge, always waiting for someone to give you trouble.

You hurt or you get hurt. Those had been her exact words. It sounds exhausting. Maybe that's why she's sleeping like the dead; she trusts him enough not to hurt her. The thought makes Tyrone pause and glance at Tandy. Her face is relaxed, even peaceful. He hopes she trusts him, hopes she understands that she's safe here.

He spends a few more moments taking in her expression before reminding himself that this is creepy and he needs to leave. Pulling the sheet over his head, he closes his eyes and imagines himself back in his bedroom. His head swims more than usual, probably because he just woke up and he hasn't eaten yet. Taking a few steadying breaths, Ty hauls himself out of bed and heads downstairs, stopping at the threshold of the kitchen.

Adina is at the stove, making enough scrambled eggs to feed and army. Otis is carrying food from the island into the dining room, which means his parents are in full blown host/hostess mode. Otis is humming loudly as he goes. It's something with a lot of swing and his hips are moving in a way that would make Tyrone blush if anyone else were around.

Their eyes meet and Otis smiles, amping up the swagger. "Morning, son."

Now Tyrone does blush. "Dad."

Adina glances over her shoulder. "Tyrone, what have a told you about sleeping in your jeans?"

"Mom."

"Why do I buy you sleep clothes if you're not gonna wear 'em?"

Ty shakes his head and tries to change the subject. "What's all this for?" He says, gesturing to the lavish spread of food.

Adina stiffens ever so slightly. "Well, we have a guest, don't we?" Although the word 'guest' is clipped in a way that tells Tyrone she's not entirely over what happened last night.

Otis feels it, too, and crosses the kitchen to be beside her, running his hand in circles across her back. She turns to him and they have some sort of telepathic conversation. Her lips turns up at one corner and he kisses her temple. Ty suddenly feels like an intruder. He's seen them kiss plenty of times, but this feels different.

Otis pulls away and resumes setting the table. Ty helps, taking the bowl of eggs from his mother.

"You need a ride to practice?"

"Nah, Evita's driving me. She's got cheer practice today." With a start, he realizes that leaves Tandy out of the equation. "Um… we can stop by Tandy's house on the way there and drop her off."

Adina raises an eyebrow. "Ridgeway is on the other side of town. Y'all are gonna be late."

"I'll take her home." Otis says.

Ty panics. "That's really okay, Dad."

"What's okay?" Tandy mumbles from the doorway. She rubs her eye sleepily, hair sticking out from under her hood in all directions.

Otis answers before Ty can. "If you don't mind, Tandy, I'll be driving you home. Ty and Evita have practice today and Tyrone can't be late again."

Tandy shrugs, unperturbed. "That'd be cool. Thank you."

Ty's pulse is still thundering, but Tandy really doesn't seem worried about it. She shuffles into the dining room, eyes widening just a fraction at the array of food.

"Can I help with anything?" She asks Adina.

"You can eat." She answers, smiling, but it's that smile that Ty knows is well rehearsed. It makes him anxious, though hopefully Tandy can't tell the difference.

She shimmies into the seat beside him while Otis and Adina grab drinking glasses from the kitchen. Her expression is smug, which definitely doesn't help his anxiety.

"What?" he hisses.

Her grin only broadens. "Nothing. Sleep well?" God damn it, she knows. His mortification must be amusing because she chuckles. "Calm down, I know it was an accident."

Tyrone sighs. "Sorry I woke you."

"You didn't. I woke up in the middle of the night and there you were. Thanks for the heart attack, by the way." Ty snickers. She gives him an appraising look. "That's gotta be pretty useful, though."

"What do you mean?"

Her voice drops in an attempt to imitate his. "Oh gosh, Evita, I'm so sorry. It was an accident, really. But since I'm here now –"

"Stop."

His parents whip around and Tandy fails to stifle her laughter. They share a knowing look before returning to the table with glasses and a pitcher of juice.

"I take it you're feeling better, Tandy?" Otis says, offering her the pitcher.

"Yeah, much better." She fills her glass to the brim, then makes quick work loading up her plate.

"How's your head?" Ty asks.

"Fine."

"What about your shoulder?"

"Fine."

"You need ibuprofen or something?"

"Tyrone." She stops with the fork halfway to her mouth, leveling him with a heady glare. "I'm fine, okay? I've had a concussion before. I know what to worry about."

That's not nearly as comforting as she probably meant for it to be, but she looks dangerously close to stabbing him with that fork, so he lets it go. His parents make small talk which Tandy contributes to in between mouthfuls of French toast. All through breakfast, Ty waits for last night to come up – questioning Tandy about the beach, the attack, why she hadn't returned Billy's hood – but it never does.

Eventually Ty allows himself to relax. He realizes that it's been months since he's let himself do that. First reconnecting with Tandy, then going after Connors, partnering with O'Reilly. It had all happened so fast and he hadn't given himself a chance to slow down. This feels right: eating with his family, going to practice with Evita, being normal.

It has to end, of course, because shit, he is really going to be late. Evita's ringtone chimes right on time, letting him know she's outside.

"You going to practice in jeans, son?" Otis asks, smugly sipping his coffee.

Shit.

He turns quickly to Tandy. "Tan, are you sure?"

She waves him off. "Stop worrying. I'm fine. Get your ass upstairs."

Otis grunts out a laugh. Ty rolls his eyes, muttering, "Can't believe I put up with this." before taking the stairs two at a time. He doesn't take time to check which uniform is clean, just throws on the first one he finds, grabs his gym bag, and sprints into the living room. He glances back one more time. Otis is saying something to Tandy and she appears to be listening intently. She meets his eyes over his father's shoulder and raises her eyebrow as if to say get going.

He doesn't have a clue what her plan is, but it's Tandy. She can find a way. Tyrone finally forces himself out the door and practically throws himself into the passenger seat of Evita's car. Her foot's on the gas before he even shuts the door.

"Woah." Ty exhales. "Easy, speed demon."

She's unfazed. "I've never been late to practice and I ain't gonna start because you overslept."

"I didn't oversleep."

She blinks. "Oh, right. How's Tandy? Anything serious?"

"Not according to the doctor." He sounds unconvinced even to his own ears.

They're stopped at a light and Evita lets her eyes skim over him. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just…" He leans back in the seat like he wants it to swallow him. "I'm just worried."

Evita smiles sadly before turning back to the road. Her hand reaches to give his knee a reassuring squeeze. "You're always worried, babe." She looks at him again. "Just let go, at least for today. You're not a part of the divine pairing. You're not Tandy's babysitter. You're not anything. You're just Ty."

They stop at another light and Ty can't help but smile. "Just Ty?" His brow quirks playfully.

She rolls her eyes. "Shut up. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do." He leans in, stealing a kiss before the light changes.

As hellish as last night had been – from the attack to her fight with Ty – Tandy's morning has been a pleasant surprise. For one thing, she can't remember the last time she was this full or well rested. Her shoulder still aches and her head hurts and yes, some ibuprofen would be nice, but it's nothing she hasn't dealt with before.

Adina rises from the table, eyeing Tandy's empty plate with something close to approval. "Glad someone finally appreciates my cooking."

"That boy of yours doesn't deserve you, Mrs. Johnson," Tandy says, popping a slice of melon into her mouth.

Otis gives a curt laugh again and Tandy's confidence soars. It's strange: last night she'd treated them like regular marks. She said what she thought they wanted to hear in an attempt to gain their trust and not get Ty in trouble. Now things are different, somehow. She wants to make them laugh, wants them to like her – the real her, whatever that is underneath all of her bullshit.

The voice whispers something, but she banishes it to the farthest corner of her mind. Pushing away from the table, she collects the empty glasses and brings them into the kitchen where Otis is filling the sink with hot, soapy water.

"Thank you, Tandy."

"No," she says earnestly, "thank you. Both of you." She turns to Adina. "Really, I'll never be able to thank you enough for everything you did for me."

Adina nods thoughtfully, narrowing her eyes at Tandy's hood. "Is that another sweatshirt you plan on stealing from my son?"

Tandy feels all of the color leave her face. "I… Ty said… he offered…" and that's not entirely true, but hell if she's admitting that.

Otis sighs. "Di."

Adina cracks a smile. "Alright, I'm sorry. I had to." Tandy must still look terrified, because she quickly says, "It's fine, dear. That thing has no sentimental value. And I…" she falters and glances at Otis. He nods encouragingly. "And I want you to have it, truly."

The words feel heavy with sentiment that Tandy doesn't fully understand, though they keep staring like they're waiting for her to figure it out. Her pulse quickens but she reminds herself to stay calm, keep her body language relaxed.

"Ty was just being nice." She says nonchalantly. "I was cold last night and he –"

"Tandy," Adina interrupts, "it's really okay. You don't have to explain yourself."

And then she continues cleaning up breakfast as if nothing happened. Tandy swallows, the pleasant vibe of the morning beginning to slip away.

"I'm going to get changed." She says, needing an out. "I'll just leave your pajamas folded on the bed, if that's okay."

Adina nods. "That's fine."

"Then I'll take you home." Otis says as Tandy forces herself not to run up the stairs.

Her heart is pounding and she isn't even sure why. There was something in their expressions – something so kind and so parental – that she hadn't been expecting. She should feel safe, and she does, but maybe that's just the problem. It had been so easy to accept their kindness, lose herself in the domesticity. She'd let her guard down and that was dangerous.

It's the good things you have to guard yourself from the most.

Tandy undresses without any delicacy, her head and shoulder throbbing in protest. She focusses on the pain – almost welcomes it – because that's something she understands. Her phone is nearly dead, but she's at least glad it hadn't fallen from her pocket during the fight. There are three messages from Ty sent this morning.

NOT LATE!

EVITA ASKED HOW YOU WERE DOING. SAID YOU'RE OK.

REALLY, THOUGH. YOU OK?

Despite her pounding headache and the lesson she'd just told herself, Tandy smiles.

CAN'T TALK. FOOD COMA.

He won't respond until practice is over, which is fine because she's going to have to walk all the way from Ridgeway Estates to the church before she can even grab her phone charger and then walk to the internet café several blocks down to plug in.

She grabs the ballet slipper and tucks it into her sweatshirt pocket, makes a final attempt at fixing her hair, and speeds back downstairs. Breakfast is all cleaned up and Adina is spreading out a series of documents atop the now clear table; working on the weekend, as Ty said she often did. Otis is standing casually by the door, hands in his pockets.

"You ready to go?"

"Yeah." Tandy says, gearing up to thank them again but Adina quickly crosses the room and steals the words from her mouth.

Her eyes are piercing in their intensity, but there's that motherly softness to them, even now. She takes Tandy's hands in her own and she has to fight the surge of energy it sends up her arms.

"Tandy, honey, I know you said you didn't plan on reporting the incident." Adina says gently, "But I have friends, too. One of my associates, his wife is a lawyer who specializes in assault cases."

Cold indifference permeates Tandy's mind, as it often does if she's not high on adrenaline or in the middle of a depressive episode – two extremes buffered by total numbness. Adina tells her to think about it and she says she will. She thanks them again, tells them she'll make it up to them, but it's all automatic. The only sensation that really registers is the need to run, to get away.

Otis asks if she needs anything before they leave, but she says no. She climbs into the car with mounting certainty.

Away, away, away. I just need away.

She pulls the hood up over her head and disappears beneath it, closing her eyes and wishing the darkness could take her away for real.