The horror of the crime scene permeates her soul. The extent of humanity's ability to inflict suffering on another horrifies her. There are only so many times you can look into the face of evil and come away unmarked. She's reached her limit. She can feel it in the bone deep weariness pervading her, in the denial of compassion this fatigue has brought forth. There was a time when she'd cry for the victim but the tears that threaten to fall tonight are all for herself.

She turns her back on the corpse and leaves the building. Standing in the cool night air she breaths deeply its untainted vapors. She tries to imbibe its crisp perfection in the hopes of igniting a body disheartened. Her husband appears in the doorway and she sees him look around for her. She knows from where he stands she is invisible to him, but she makes no move to draw attention to herself. She fears he may want to talk when what she most wants is to forget.

She turns her back to him and looks down the darkened street. The tree lined road, its pavements lightly covered in snow, calls to her, "I'll take you away, follow me." She wonders, if she started walking now, would it be too late? Could she leave it all behind or would this bleak inhumanity follow her, turning the white snow into sludge with every step she takes.

She doesn't need to see her husband to know he's found her. She feels the missing pieces of her soul slowly click into place as he draws near. He fills her, completes her and accepts from her what's needed to complete himself. Their auras dance and entwine in a cosmic coupling. Relief washes over her, peace if not pleasure. She welcomes his presence, his warmth, his ability to face monsters day after day and still remain human. She admires and fears it knowing even strength has a breaking point.

Her body calls to him 'take me home.' Without speaking they begin to walk to the car. His hand raises to complete the connection, resting lightly between her shoulder blades. He guides her, not through pressure but through resolve. Her body tingles where he touches her. Electrical impulses pass between them. His body ensuring her she'll be ok.

She's silent during the journey home. Her cheek rests against the cold glass of the window as she looks out at the world going by. Her eyes close so she doesn't see house after house flash by and envisage the atrocities within. She wants to believe in beauty but is haunted by reality.

She walks into the apartment and leaves the livid baby-sitter for her husband to deal with. She thinks of showing her a tragedy far greater than having your plans ruined by working an hour overtime, but wouldn't want anyone else to have to see the things she's seen tonight. She knows soon enough everyone learns what lurks around the corner. Perspective is only a matter of time.

Shutting the argument out she reaches for her sleeping son. Lifts him tenderly from his crib and cradles him in her arms. Her nose buries itself in his neck. She breathes in his love, his innocence, his joy in life. Embraces it, relishes it and wills it to chase her demons away. She will protect this child, she will teach him love, she will show him beauty she just needs to remember where it's found.

Her husband finds her anointing their slumbering child's head with her tears. He kneels beside her and looks up at his family in concern. She sees in his eyes the desire to protect and comfort, and the sorrow that all he can offer her may not be enough. She reaches out and lays her hand on the back of his neck. The place that connects the mind that excites her with the body that grounds her. The place she hangs, nuzzles, dreams and adores. His arm reaches across her lap, cradling both mother and child. Union completed they breath, they revive, they live.

He rises first and she passes the sleeping child to him before walking to the bathroom. He whispers promises to his son. Promises his wife's need for silence hadn't allowed him to say. He places the child into his bed then prepares to enter his own. He smells the sulfur of a lighted match and finds himself drawn to its siren call. From the doorway he watches as she lights candles around the tub before turning off the harsh glare of the overhead light.

The aroma of the candles mixes with the scent of the bath water and he feels its soothing balm take hold. The room with its surreal lighting and humid air beckons him. It's heathenistic delights tempt a soul fraught with desperation. She looks across at him and her eyes silently inviting. He nods and begins unbuttoning his shirt.

She's undressed first but waits for him to ease into the water before following him in. She lays her body against him, closes her eyes on a contented sigh as his arms envelop her. Her head rests on his shoulder, his cheek lays against her hair. She listens to his steady breaths, the only sound in the room save the soft crackle of bursting bubbles.

He feels her body melting against him as she succumbs to the water's charms. As her breathing becomes louder, deeper, signalling her descent into sleep, his hand raises and turns her face towards his. Her eyes open at the sudden movement, realization takes hold and she offers him her lips. A soft grateful kiss and then she rises ready to replace one haven with another.

A cursory swipe of the towel to remove excess moisture and then she walks to their bed. Following her lead he quickly joins her. She craves this connection, skin to skin. He lays down behind her, his arms open to her and she shuffles back into them, cocooning herself in his scent, warmth and soft moist skin, until she feels he's swallowed her whole.

Tomorrow they'll talk of it. Tomorrow she'll face that life again. Right now she has exactly what she needs. Her body relaxes in slumber. 'Love you' she hears whispered against her ear. Her lips press against the hand fisted in hers and sleep takes over. Tomorrow will be here soon enough.