Will was starting to get worried. You still weren't home and it was almost three in the morning. He was putting Michael, your son, to sleep when he heard the front door click open and you walk through the door.

Now, he was a cop, too. He understands it sometimes take days to finish cases. But what he doesn't understand is why you came back with bandages up your arm and burn marks on your neck and un-bandaged arm.

He watched as you put your bag on the table, trying to be as quick as possible to go see your children.. and avoid talking to him about it.

"Stop." He said quietly, to not wake either of the kids up. "C'mere, c'mere, sweetheart." He noticed the distressed look on your face. "Get outta your head. Talk to me, baby."