A day that had begun with such hope ended in the specter of death and loss. Lines once drawn crumbled as the reality of their circumstances settled upon Erica Evans's shoulders, heavy like the burden of leadership Eli Cohen had passed on to her.

Standing, bruised and battered, in a small, dank basement, she declared all out war on a vastly superior enemy and the three men before her - the mercenary, the reporter, the priest -, resolved to follow her. Every one of them had to know there was little chance they'd survive the coming battle, but each was willing to give his all.

It was all anyone could ask of them.

Tomorrow, she'd try to contact John Fierro, let him know to pass on the word to the other members of the Fifth Column, but for tonight, it was just the four of them.

Kyle Hobbs, who had spent much of his life fighting for whomever paid him best, had finally found a cause worth fighting for. He'd been urging her to act for some time, but she'd been reticent. No more. The leash was off.

Chad Decker, their newest recruit, was clearly terrified, but he'd seen enough to know he had to take a stand. As Anna's favored member of the media, his access to her could prove invaluable.

Father Jack Landry, her first, most trusted ally in this fight. Like her, he'd been slow to accept the necessity of taking the fight to Anna, but she knew he'd back her play. Knew he'd take up arms and be a soldier again to defend those who couldn't or wouldn't.

Each of them had a moment of clarity that night, knowing that the conflict that had been brewing for the last several months was about to come to a head.

Considering the day she'd had, it was no surprise that, once she'd passed along her decision, she felt like falling over. Every part of her body hurt and she wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to remain steady on her feet.

"All right," she said, breaking the silence that had followed their little call to arms. "Fierro knows to contact one of us. I don't think there's much else we can do tonight, so I say we meet up again tomorrow. Someone let Sidney know and we'll try to come up with a plan of attack."

There. That sounded appropriately leader-ish and not at all like she wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. Which she just might do once she got back to her empty house. In fact, trying to avoid that had been why she'd come here tonight in the first place.

"Sounds like a plan," Hobbes said and Chad merely nodded.

Jack offered a kind smile and said, "I'll walk you out."

She nodded, grateful for the warm, supportive hand that found its way to the small of her back as they climbed the stairs.

The night air was cool on her bruised face and she took a bracing breath. In the sky, she could see the ominous outline of the Visitor's ship hovering some distance away, marring the skyline of the city.

Beside her, Jack took her hand, his presence echoing earlier pose, as they sat shocked, on a rooftop, realizing their lives had been suddenly and irrevocably changed forever.

They'd had no idea how prescient they'd been.

She shivered and she felt Jack shift, then release her hand. Turning, she opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, but he wrapped his worn leather jacket around her before she got a word out.

When she'd stumbled out of her house, she'd been numb, not feeling the chill of the night air, but now her old sweatshirt didn't seem nearly warm enough. Jack's coat retained his lingering body heat and, as she pulled it close around herself, she smelled the hint of Dove soap, old books and tea that always seemed to be mixed with the scent of his skin.

It was comforting.

"Can you stay with me tonight?" she asked, hating to sound even the slightest bit weak, but this was Jack. He was the person she could break down in front of. He was the person who wouldn't judge her.

His hand returned to hers and he replied, "Of course."

She felt drained and barely noticed Jack wave to Chad, who was waiting in his own car. Erica wondered about that for a moment before realizing he must have given Jack a ride to Hobbes's place.

Reaching her SUV, she patted her pockets, searching for the keys. "I know I had them," she said absently and Jack leaned past her, opening the door. The keys dangled from the ignition and she blinked at them for a moment before turning to Jack. "You drive, okay?"

He nodded, walking her around to the passengers side and settling her in. Normally, she wouldn't have accepted the help, but tonight it was a welcome change.

The drive home was quiet and she let her eyes close, hoping her all too active brain would take the hint, but no. Random thoughts and questions continued to filter through her head.

If she hadn't called Joe on Tyler's birthday, would he still be alive?

Could she really lead a world wide rebellion?

Would her son survive the coming battle? Would he take part in it and, if her did, what side would he be on?

Actually, she was pretty sure she knew the answer to that one.

What did Anna want with them?

Would Jack get in trouble for not returning to the rectory tonight? They'd been friends for months, but she still didn't really know much about the rules priests lived by.

Except, you know, the big rule.

By this point, considering he'd gone against the Vatican's policy and spoken out against the V's, perhaps Jack figured he simply couldn't irritate them any more than he already had.

At some point, she must have drifted off, because the next thing she knew, there was a gentle hand on her arm and Jack was saying, "Erica, we're here."

She blinked and shook her head to clear the cobwebs. That wasn't one of her better ideas, as the action woke the multitude of strained muscles and bruises. If anything, she felt worse now than she had before her brief nap.

They made their way up the darkened walkway and, after a brief fumble at the door, she got the key in the lock. Knowing Jack wouldn't take offense at her lack of hospitality, she simply wandered silently into the house, leaving him to lock the door as she gingerly climbed the stairs.

It was slow going. Her muscles burned and the normally short staircase now seemed an unimaginable obstacle to surmount. Half way up, Jack joined her and she swayed, back resting partially against his chest. One of his hands gripped her waist and the other found her hand. Together, they finished the journey to her room and she more or less collapsed on the bed, on top of the covers.

Physically, she was just done.

Though she knew she'd regret it in the morning, she considered simply allowing herself to sink into oblivion then and there. Jack's coat was warm and soft, still wrapped around her, but neither her jeans or sneakers would be very comfortable to sleep in.

It seemed Jack had the same idea, because, before she could move, she felt his fingers working on the messily knotted laces. She shifted slightly, turning her head so she could see him, kneeling beside the bed and removing her shoes.

She could do it for herself, but in that moment, the fact that she didn't have to was a massive relief. Jack knew she was strong, never seemed put off by that fact, but he was willing to take care of her in this moment when she so needed someone.

Once that task was accomplished, he stood and reached for her, helping her sit up. And tossing his jacket onto the chair in the corner. She peered up at him as he paused, seemingly unsure of how to proceed.

Later, she might feel embarrassed, eh thought, but at present she had nothing to spare for that emotion. With numb fingers, she popped the button at the waist of her jeans and lowered the zipper before wriggling them down her hips. From there, Jack pulled them down her legs and they joined his coat on the chair.

He folded down the blankets and guided her under them, tucking her in. She couldn't recall the last time anyone had done that for her and she closed her eyes, leaning into his hand as he brushed the hair back from her face.

After a few minutes, he shifted and she opened her eyes. He hadn't left, but simply taken a seat on the floor beside the bed, leaning back against the mattress. That couldn't be comfortable.

This time, she startled him as her fingers brushed through his sandy hair, but he settled as she simply rested her hand there, keeping a connection between them.

The clock tick echoed loud in the silent house, as did her voice when she asked, "Stay with me?"

"I am," he replied, and it was then that she realized he meant to stay the night there, on the floor. She'd assumed he'd intended to wait until she fell asleep and then move to one of the other beds, or a couch downstairs.

She should have known he wouldn't leave her.

"Can't sleep on the floor," she murmured and let her hand drift from his hair to his shoulder, bunching in the material of his shirt and giving a weak tug. "Get up here."

He turned and his eyes were so close, startlingly blue in the shaft of moonlight that filtered in through the drapes. "I'm fine…." he began, but she cut him off.

"How'm I supposed to sleep, knowing you're on the floor?" she hoped he'd give in soon, as she really didn't have the energy to argue. Still, she couldn't bring herself to ask him to climb into her bed and hold her.

Those eyes studied her and, finally, he nodded, rising slowly , making his way around to the other side of the bed. He sat on the edge and bent to remove his boots. He unbuttoned his blue shirt and shrugged it off, but left his jeans and white t-shirt in place.

Seeing the wheels moving in his head, she flipped down the covers before he could lie on top of them. He slid into the bed beside her, on his back and a bit stiff. Clearly, he was even more unused to sharing a bed than she was, which, duh, obviously.

Still, he was here, with her because she had asked him to be.

Slowly, she inched backwards towards him and, proving once again that he understood her, Jack turned onto his side and wrapped an arm loosely around her. Thankful, she gripped his hand and sank back against him, taking comfort in the steady beat of his heart and his warm, familiar presence.

Wrapped in his arms, she finally succumbed to real sleep and the seemingly endless day finally came to a close.

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