Passed out on his bed, still in his clothes, Simon Murdock slept like the dead. The pounding on his front door went unnoticed but for a niggling irritation in the back of his dreaming mind. Minutes later, the sound of breaking glass--and the memories associated with that sound--woke him from his slumber in a rush. For a moment he forget himself, forgot the passage of time and the payment of most of his debts. The instinctual fear remained, ready and alarmed. He urgently sought out the location of his glasses with one hand, knocking them from the stand by his bed and onto the ground in the process. Silently cursing himself he dropped after them, putting them one before rummaging under the bed for the small caliber gun he'd stored there years ago. He offered up another unvoiced curse for never taking the time to truly learn how to use it. If the need came, he hoped pointing and shooting would be enough.

Simon focused on trying to calm his heart and slow his breathing. He closed his eyes and listened intently for further sounds. In the kitchen the backdoor shifted, pushing glass as it opened into the room with a heavy thud. A stumble of steps followed, crushing glass beneath them. The hard sound of someone falling on the tiled floor. Simon's hands felt wet with perspiration. Seconds stretched into long lifetimes, waiting for what would happen next. He swallowed hard and stood, moving with the gun in hand. Slowly, steps brought him from his bedroom and into the short hall that led to the bathroom, his home work space, and the dining room. Leaning against the wall he trained his eyes through the dining room to the framed doorway of the kitchen. Nothing beyond the frame could be seen from where he waited. A rough moan came from beyond, followed by a cough.

Cautiously, he moved from the hall and approached the kitchen. Moonlight revealed a hunched body, leaning against the cabinets steps away from the door. The gun pointed toward the person as Simon tried to assess the situation, taking in the shattered window of the door and the glass on the floor. His unexpected visitor seemed to become aware of his arrival, her head tilting back to allow her the ability to look his way. Candy's features looked worse than he'd ever seen them. The usual cuts and bruises hidden beneath a level of damage all new to her. Worse than that, he noted the odd paleness to her skin.

Candy caught the change as his guarded expression shifted to one of concern. Weakly, she chuckled.

"Hey Doc. You gonna shoot me?"