Hunter had been right when he said that Saturday would be a pretty awesome day. The morning is mainly spent in bed but also in the shower, the kitchen, the living room, the floor. As soon as they get all of that out of their system and Molly makes BLTs to fill up after the workout they had, they work out more by changing into bathing suits and heading out to the pool, where Gabriel is already enthusiastically swimming around with joy. Molly is pretty sure she hasn't seen the pool without him in it since it opened up. When Gabriel sees her, he looks delighted and she can see it's a good day for him, emotionally as well as cognitively, going by the way he's signing away to the both of them about how much he loves swimming and how happy he is that his mother is letting him swim everyday, which leads into him telling her his whole schedule for the next week, before getting back to swimming and asking Hunter if he likes swimming as much he does.

Molly is just about to turn to Hunter and translate for Gabriel, because up until that point she hadn't interpreted since Gabriel was mainly focusing on her. But before she can do that, Hunter answers.

"I love swimming," Hunter says as he signs and what the fuck is actually happening, "In high school and college, I was on the swim team."

It's SEE and not ASL, but his signs are all right and Gabriel understands what he's saying. She's both immensely baffled and proud.

"Where did you learn that?" Molly has to ask as Gabriel swims to the other side of the pool.

Hunter shrugs, biting back a smile, "Did I get the signs right?"

"Yes," Molly confirms, "Which confuses me, because you said you only knew a few words and the alphabet last time you were here."

"That was true," Hunter says, "But you've been teaching JR and she's basically throwing it in everyone's faces that she is going to be able to speak ASL because you are teaching her through FaceTime. Both she and Gus already speak French so I wasn't going to let her show me up."

"She catches on super fast," Molly says, tilting to float on her back, "Probably because ASL's structure is based on French. So what? Are you teaching yourself so you won't be so jealous of an 11 year old?"

"Yeah, some," Hunter says, still standing by the wall, "Hired a tutor too. I've been doing Skype lessons with him since the end of April, usually on Sunday mornings and a couple of evenings a week.

Molly wets her hair and flips it back, "You know, you could have asked me if you wanted to learn. I would have taught you too."

"I wanted to impress you," Hunter says, looking away slightly like he's suddenly self-conscious about it, "I wanted to be able to understand Gabriel since you like him so much. Figured it might come in handy when we are old and at least one of us ends up losing our hearing. Besides, no offense, but my tutor is the best tutor. He's deaf and comes from a four generation deaf family."

"Oh, then you are definitely better off," Molly agrees, before swimming back over to him, putting her arms around his neck, and smiling, "You're so cute. Wanting to impress me and your sister. That's adorable."

"Is it?" Hunter says, his eyebrows rising in amusement.

"Absolutely," Molly says, "We just have to work on your glossing. You're learning the vocab itself fast but it's the topic first, unless your sentence has a timeframe or a date, then THAT comes first."

"God, you sound like Damon," Hunter sighs, "I swear, I would be afraid to meet the guy in person. He'd probably smack my hands with a ruler. The amount of videos that guy assigns me to make just to focus on glossing annoys me to no end."

"I like him already," Molly says truthfully.

The rest of the day is pretty flawless. They shower together to wash the chlorine off, go for a drive, then meet with Hazel, Samira, Jerome, Rubina, Gabrielle, and Gretchen for dinner. Initially, Molly had been hesitant to go, considering Hunter had been concerned enough to call Jerome and Hazel over what mindset she's been in and Jerome and Hazel were concerned enough about what he was saying to them to blab about the shit that had happened to her.

But when they do all meet up, nothing stressful is talked about. Hazel looks at them with hearts in her eyes, as if she's never shipped a couple more, and after Molly starts getting creeped out by that kind of silent attention, she gets Hazel to focus on her upcoming wedding and bliss with Samira.

Just like their last last night together, they don't sleep much. Sex is obviously a factor but so is just sitting together watching movies late into the night. They probably make a bad call on watching Ghost, which happens after Molly has had two glasses of wine and is already feeling emotional about Hunter leaving soon, despite the fact she will be flying over to him in a couple of days.

"Are you crying?" Hunter questions suspiciously, prompted by her sniffling at Sam dancing with Molly for the last time.

"No," she says roughly, hiding her face into Hunter's thigh/her pillow, "You fucking wish."

Hunter laughs at that, "Yep, that's it. You got me."

"It's amazing, Molly. The love inside, you take it with you."

The line causes the real, non-Demi Moore Molly to let out a whimper.

"Shit, do you want me to turn the movie off?" Hunter asks, suddenly sounding more concerned and less amused.

"N-No, I like this movie!" Molly says, with inexplicable tears streaming down her face and it's so fucking ridiculous because she never cries during movies, this one or any others.

"Uh huh," Hunter says, smoothing Molly's hair back from her wet face but doesn't say anything else until the credits begin to roll a minute later, "So was it because Swayze said your name or…"

She could say yes, that Demi Moore having her name in that movie made her identify a little too much with her and her loneliness. Demi was obviously a lot worse off because Swayze died but it still made her identify a little more than usual and it made her identify Swayze as Hunter and that's even dumber.

"Never get murdered, Hunter," Molly mumbles instead, scrubbing at her face as she sits up, "And never haunt me."

Hunter's look of bafflement lasts for approximately three seconds before he bursts into a fit of giggles.

"It's not funny," she snaps, taking a throw pillow to lightly smack him with it.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Hunter says, wiping his own eyes, "I just think it's hilarious that you think I won't jump at the chance at haunting you when I die. I mean, I will try not to get murdered but I am definitely haunting you regardless of how my eventual demise occurs."

"No, you won't," Molly says stubbornly.

"I will," Hunter says, "If it is through murder, then so be it."

"You won't because I'm dying first," Molly insists, "I bet out of the two of us, I would be the one to get murdered anyway."

Hunter's brow furrows as he frowns, "Absolutely not. I would take the bullet for you and die in your arms."

"What if you aren't close when it happens?" Molly questions, holding back a wince over Hunter's pained expression over distance being such a thorn in their sides before moving on, "I work in a school. School shootings are rampant. We almost had one my first month teaching-"

"Wait, what?" Hunter says, grabbing onto her, alarmed, "Why the fuck didn't I know this?"

Molly shrugs, "We weren't together yet? And no one got hurt. It happened on the same day another mass shooting happened that did have fatalities, that one in DC's Navy Yard, so our incident didn't even blip outside of local news. It wasn't a student who brought in the gun or anything. It was some second grade teacher's controlling, drunk husband. He came in with a gun and stormed past the office. I remember the secretary said over the intercom that there was an active shooter in the building so I was barricading the door and helping all of my students get out through the window. Since the ground floor is built into a hill, it's doable from the second floor but I was literally leading all of them out and dangling them until their feet were a few feet above the ground. When I had only a few kids left, I started hearing gunshots and then my classroom door was shot at. He tried to push against the door a few times but I guess I jammed it pretty well. Anyway, we all got out and no one in the school was hurt. We had a week off and when we came back, the school board had installed all new doors and key card locks, which you saw. But anyway, yeah. I'm dying first."

"No," Hunter says a little more harshly, not letting go of her, "You have ridiculously thick, automatically locking doors. A lot better security, which I have seen for myself. They actually did a decent job. No more school shooting experiences for you, so I am dying first."

"Maybe I won't have a gun come at me at school. Maybe it will be a knife somewhere else," Molly counters, trying to not think of Seth's threat before not letting Hunter catch onto that by coming up with more elaborate examples, "Or maybe someone poisons me. Maybe someone sticks my head in an old fashioned microwave to make it explode or removes my eyeballs and pours bleach into each of my eye sockets."

Hunter stares at her like he's extremely concerned with her imagination, but then shakes his head in denial.

"No, I'm still dying first. I'd offer the murderer every cent I have to kill me in your place," Hunter says, shrugging, "But even if we take murder out of the equation, it is statistically more likely for me to die first anyway due to my HIV."

"Your numbers are perfect and most people with HIV are living full lives with the rapid advancement of-"

"Okay, fine," Hunter says, scoffing, "But it is still more statistically probable that I die first. Men usually don't live as long as women. I'm older than you. I currently live in a more dangerous city than you. Totally dying first."

"I disagree," Molly says, "There's a history of Alzheimer's in my family. There is a history of mental health issues and suicide attempts as well. Multiple people on my dad's side have killed themselves. My dad tried to. You never know-"

"You trying to tell me something?" Hunter asks cautiously as his arms wrap around her, studying her way too closely.

"No," Molly says, giving him a glance, "Although, I was bored last month on the one day I had off and was studying our family tree. Apparently, my dad's grandmother hung herself from a barnyard rafter in North Dakota and her brother shot himself in front of the mayor."

"Please don't ever do either of those things. Ever. We can move to a mayor-less town if it's necessary," Hunter says, sounding a bit too serious so Molly gives him some relief.

"I don't plan on it," Molly says, "I have no suicidal ideation or any desire to shoot myself in front of a mayor. Or live in a barn."

"What a relief," Hunter says, bringing her head over to kiss her temple, "A relief that I am definitely dying first."

"Nope, it'll be me."

"We have established that it won't be," Hunter says slowly, "Because you aren't suicidal like some of your family members have been and if you would start to feel that way, you would tell me, right?"

Molly thinks on it, "I'd like to think so. But most people who are suicidal aren't in their most rational mind. So as much as I want to 100% confirm that I would tell you and get help, I don't know how I would be if some sort of gene kicked in."

Hunter burrows his head into her neck, "I really hate this conversation. It's making me feel sick."

Molly looks down at Hunter's hidden face, "Well, I don't like hearing you say your HIV is going to kill you."

Hunter meets her eyes, and suddenly he looks vulnerable, "It might. I've been fucking lucky. Really fucking lucky. But...I don't know, you should be prepared if for some reason my ideal case isn't so ideal anymore. The meds are amazing nowadays, but they aren't completely foolproof."

Molly shrugs, then pats Hunter’s knee, "...I'd take care of you if something did happen. It's not going to fucking happen but if it does, you won't be alone."

As she looks away, she hears Hunter's intake of breath but can't look at him again, not yet.

"...Well," Hunter starts after clearing his throat, "I would take care of you too. In a heartbeat. If you got diagnosed with something."

"Even Alzheimer's?" Molly asks, "You're in for a wild ride then. You should meet my grandpa. Dude used to be so smart - he still is - but he is completely out of his head sometimes. He talks to coat racks, regularly assigns essays if he is around a group of people, randomly takes off his clothes, decides he can just take a bus to Vegas and sneaks out of the house, only to end up on a bus to Yale. You'd put 80 year old me in a home in a heartbeat."

"I would never," Hunter says seriously, "84 year old me would have a blast with 80 year old you if you're anything like that. Never a dull moment. I'm just worried about who would care for you after I die first."

Molly snorts, "Agree to disagree."

-----------------------------

It's like the universe knows when Hunter is away from her. She literally lasts a day before something shitty happens.

It isn’t something terrible. The action that causes the shittiness isn't even out of the ordinary. It's her first day working at the sister school. It's the last period of the day and she is walking to the playground with a couple of the kids. Isaiah is excited and pulls on her right arm a little too hard, asking her to go on the swings with him with a big smile on his face.

The only problem is that it's the arm connected to her bad shoulder. The one Seth permanently fucked up when he had her pinned to the ground on her stomach and he twisted her right arm behind her back so far that it severely tore her rotator cuff. She used to have problems with it a lot more frequently. It's been at least six months since she's had more than an occasional dull ache in the morning. The time that had passed without pain in her shoulder had instilled her with a false confidence to the point that athletic sex with Hunter had never been a daunting prospect and that activity only made her feel better.

So out of all the things that could irritate her shoulder, she hadn't been expecting it to be a relatively small, sweet, and happy child. One she doesn't want to upset so she bites back the gasp of pain and breathes through it as she half-heartedly swings, subtly propping her right arm with her left as Isaiah pumps his legs and routinely asks, "Swing higher, Ms. Taylor! It's fun! Try it, try it!"

She's able to wait to get to her car before she calls Tucker in a shaky voice and asks if he thinks Garrett - one of Tucker's best friends and a sports medicine doctor Molly ended up going to the summer after she was attacked - would be willing to look at her shoulder after he's done with his appointments for the day.

"Aw, honey," Tucker murmurs, concern and empathy lacing his voice, "I don't think he would make you wait. I'll call him and see if he will ask his radiologist to stay on site so that you can go over there. Are you up for driving to Pittsburgh? If you are able to wait until tomorrow, I can take a flight out tonight and take you to see him in the morning."

Molly tries not to sniffle at that, because any sign of distress on her end will just turn Tucker's offer into a requirement in his eyes and while she finds herself suddenly wanting to see her pseudo-dad terribly, she wants to see Hunter just a little more and needs this taken care of now.

"I would love it if you could come down, but I'm supposed to be on a flight to San Francisco tomorrow and would rather see you for more than a couple of hours," Molly tells him, "I should be fine to drive, don't worry."

She must sound more upset than she thinks she sounds, because Tucker pauses for a moment, only to ask her when she's due to fly back into Pittsburgh, telling her that he will get a flight that will arrive there around the same time.

"You don't have to-"

"I want to," Tucker interrupts, leaving no room for an argument, "Your shoulder can act up for a couple of weeks, sometimes longer. So you...Hunter can make sure you are okay and on the mend while you are there and I'll make sure you are good when you come back."

-----------------------

"It's a small, partial tear, right where your old injury was," Garrett says after the MRI comes back, before gently maneuvering her shoulder to test her range of motion, "Surgery isn't necessary this time, but a sling should be worn for at least a week. I can give you a steroid shot too. It should help with the pain and inflammation. Tylenol PM can help in the evenings so that you can get some sleep. Avoid sitting for several hours at a time. I know in the past you said that made the pain in your shoulder worse."

Of course that's said to her 24 hours before she is supposed to be on a plane for 5 hours. She's not going to be talked out of that though, so she just nods along, doesn't talk about any upcoming trips at all, and agrees to stay on limited duty tomorrow and next week during her shifts.

That night, after she gets back to her apartment and she's clenching her teeth in pain from the drive, she carefully lies down and puts an ice pack on her shoulder, then turns on the TV because she really isn't up for much else. When Hunter calls around 10, she tries not to move other than to reach for her phone with her left hand. After it taking for fucking ever to find a comfortable position, she doesn’t even want to speak too loudly in fear of disturbing that.

“You seem quiet,” Hunter says, “You good?”

There’s no point in keeping it from him. She rather him not go into worried, mother hen mode by being taken off guard at the airport, so she goes ahead and tells him.

“I got injured today,” Molly says, breathing out through her nose at a burst of pain.

“What?” Hunter says, concerned, “Molly, what happened?”

“It was at the school, during free time,” Molly explains, “One of the kids-”

“I really wish you wouldn’t work there,” Hunter admits, “This isn’t the first time a kid has hurt you.”

“He didn’t mean to,” Molly says, suddenly feeling defensive of the kids at the sister school, “He was excited and was just leading me to the swings. Partially tore my rotator cuff. He wasn’t even pulling that hard. It was a freak thing. It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been injured there a few years ago. It usually wouldn't regardless. I don't know why my shoulder decided to be a weak fucker today.”

“...What caused that injury?” Hunter asks quietly, as if he already has a hunch. She really doesn’t want to talk about Seth right now though, so she moves on.

“Look, I just didn’t want you to be surprised or upset when you see my arm in a sling tomorrow evening. Or be alarmed that if I am not in the best mood or I’m not feeling well,” she says, “Sitting for a long time irritates it. Sometimes to the point where I feel nauseated.”

Hunter doesn’t say anything for a few moments, then clears his throat, “Do you need me to come to you instead? I can do that.”

“No, you can’t,” Molly says, “You are filming all week. You barely had any time here this past weekend. You’d have even less if you come in this weekend.”

“We start shooting at 3 am Wednesday. Thursday too. We should be done by 3 or 4 pm both days,” Hunter says, “If we stay ahead of schedule, Darren said we might be okay not to shoot on Friday, which is what everyone is aiming for since we have a bunch of big scenes to focus on next week. If you need to rest, I can fly on Thursday afternoon-”

“I’ll be fine,” Molly tells him, “I might not be up to looking around San Francisco while you are on set, but I will relax in the condo you hate so much and hang out with Katniss on the couch, alternating with hot and cold compresses and doing everything I am supposed to do.”

Except for not sitting down hours at time.

At first, it isn't so bad. The steroid shot kicked in a little overnight and the first couple hours of the flight are spent in minimal pain. But it starts to get worse the second half of the flight. She's suddenly very glad Hunter booked her in a window seat on the left side of the plane and that there is no one next to her. She's sure it would be even worse if someone was pressed up against her or if her bad shoulder was crushed against the wall.

Hunter is there when she arrives at 8:30 pm, immediately coming over as soon as he sees her, taking her carry-on bag and gently pulling her into an embrace before leading her to his car. He walks on her left side, seeming extremely aware that she has a bum shoulder since he's both gentle yet insistent in his touch, his arm around her waist as they walk through the airport. Molly can see him eyeing anyone who walks too closely to her apprehensively, as if they might bump into her and cause her shoulder to tear off from her body completely. She supposes she isn't helping his worries. She's in so much pain from the flight that she hasn't said much. Last time she got a look at herself was in the plane's bathroom, where she looked pale and just slightly clammy. Hunter probably thinks she is sick on top of being injured. It wouldn't be a huge leap going by how she looks.

He opens the car door for her after putting her bag in the back and she doesn't give him grief for it because she doesn't want to move her arm more than necessary. She does have to bite her tongue when she struggles with her seatbelt and he helps her though.

By the time they are at his condo, she's exhausted and she's hurting too much to do all that much. She doesn't have it in her to tackle him to the bed like she planned to and Hunter seems to fully accept he probably isn't going to get laid tonight without either of them saying a word about it. After she gets out of the bathroom and takes off her sling, he shows her to the bedroom, disappears for a few minutes, then comes back with two Tylenol PM in his hand and a glass of water in the other. She lifts her head up to take the pills, then tries lying on her stomach, since the back of her shoulder is cramping up to no end.

"Would massaging it help?" Hunter asks, gently stroking her back.

"...You can try, if you want to," Molly mumbles, feeling her stomach twist into knots at the prospect.

"Okay. Let me know if it hurts, alright?"

Molly braces herself for pain. She doesn't mean to, but there are just certain parts of her body that she gets tense about. Her right shoulder, her left jaw, her ribs. She hasn't faced any pain in her ribs since they healed and her jaw just occasionally clicks, but it's as if those parts of her body remember what happened, like they are aware of how awful pain can get and that the pain previously inflicted had been caused by someone else.

But when Hunter's fingers begin slowly massaging into her skin and muscle, she feels the tension slowly leak out of her. Soon enough, she's feeling almost as if she's having the most relaxing orgasm she's ever had. Of course Hunter is good at this. Of course he is. He's an expert at making her feel good, physically and emotionally. He never has and never would cause her physical pain and she's sure he wouldn't purposely be the cause of any other type of pain either.

"Why are you so good at fucking everything?" Molly asks, practically sounding like she's drugged.

Hunter huffs, "I'm not."

"You are."

"Not at science or math."

"Liar," Molly slurs, "Your dads told me you were in the 98th percentile for your SATs."

"You'd think they'd get over that by now," Hunter says, moving up to the top of her shoulder.

"They are proud of you," Molly says gently, "And of how good you are at everything."

"I'm telling you, I'm not. I'm good at creative stuff, that's it."

"You fixed my tub drain," Molly says, lifting her head up to argue before Hunter hushes her and gently gets her to lie back down so that he can continue to massage her, "You know how to do a lot of technical stuff. You're so smart. Much smarter than me."

"That's a complete lie and we both know it," Hunter says.

"No, you are. I'm completely left brained. Can't think outside of the box. No artistic talent."

"I've seen the stuff you've painted and made for your classroom themes," Hunter says, "You are talented and creative. You just think you aren't because you have a famous artist for a brother and your self-esteem has been shot to shit recently."

"So brutally honest, damn," Molly says, trying to glance at Hunter by turning her head farther, but it isn't like Hunter magically healed her so her movement is still sort of limited.

It's a little disconcerting that she can't see his face when he's starting to get serious like this, even more so when he is silent for several seconds in return, seeming to only focus on her shoulder and making it feel better.

"I've been worrying about you," Hunter says quietly, "What you've gone through the last couple of weeks, where your head's been. It's almost all I can think about, you telling me you weren't good enough for me and talking so badly about yourself."

Molly doesn't know exactly what to say to that, she really doesn't. But she knows she has to try to put his mind at ease a little.

"I'm okay. I am doing better. I was just stressed. A bunch of stuff happened at once and I was missing you but it's better now. Is that why you were so concerned after we watched Ghost and started talking obsessively about death?"

"...Yes," Hunter says after a pause, "I probably over thought everything, but I'm...I'm not fucking there and I didn't know how hard of a time you've been having because of that, and then that conversation came up. I got even more worried that all of the stress could possibly trigger something if there is some genetic component. What if I don't catch onto you going through some huge mental health thing since I'm here and you're there-"

"Hunter," Molly prompts, finally lifting herself up from the bed, Hunter quickly maneuvering her to limit the strain on her shoulder, "I was just pointing out that just because you have HIV, doesn't mean you will die first. I have never wanted to hurt myself or kill myself. Ever. When I found out my dad tried, it devastated me because I never thought someone so important to me would try to do that. Researching out of curiosity and finding out about my great-grandmother and her brother did concern me. That's a lot for just a couple of generations. It sort of scares me. But I'm glad that I'm aware, so that I can maybe understand what is going on if I ever feel abnormally bad and get it taken care of before it gets worse. Hopefully it never comes to that, but it is good that I know."

Hunter's adam's apple moves in his throat, "I just...I just want you with me. That's just one of probably four thousand reasons. So I know you aren't bottling stuff up and making yourself feel worse all because you don't want to worry anyone. Because that's what you were doing. You were getting more distant and guarded before saying the stuff you did - about us and yourself - and I should have called you out more bluntly and gotten you to talk before you got to that point. Genes alone probably aren't going to trigger something like depression or suicidal tendencies. You bottling things up could though."

"...It's hard for me," Molly says, before clarifying, "To talk about the shit that happens to me. I don't like stressing you out or anyone else and...I don't know, I've stressed out my family enough. They still get worried about me even after four years. Tucker wanted to come to Morgantown and stay while my shoulder heals because of how it happened the first time. He's planning on flying in as soon as I come back. I don't like the pity."

Hunter shakes his head, "It isn't pity. It's not. It's love. I thought the same shit when Michael and Ben took me in. That they felt sorry for me. The only difference is that I tested them to no fucking end before running off for a month. You're at least a lot more mature about it. You quietly push people away and are respectful. I was a total dick. It took years of therapy in two different states to function at the point I'm at now. I was angry. Thought my parents only took me in because I was technically sick and was probably going to die soon enough that they wouldn't have to give me any thought after a few years-"

"You aren't going to die from it," Molly says softly, "The chances for your virus to get worse after all this time, especially with your numbers, is miniscule."

"I didn't know that then," Hunter says, "It wasn't like that then. I know that I am healthy and I know things are a lot better. I'm good. Ben's numbers are almost as good as mine. I get it but there are days that I don't. There are still days where I think I am going to die from this within a few years. You should probably know that fucked up part about me. It's not rational - not anymore - but I think it anyway."

Molly clenches her jaw and nods, reaching over with her left arm to cup Hunter's cheek. She knows what Hunter is doing. Being vulnerable with her so that she will talk to him, give him something in return. She's figured out his game. Doesn't mean it doesn't work any less.

"When I…" Molly tries, then starts again, "When you uh...I don't know, touched my shoulder, I was terrified."

"...Why were you terrified?"

Molly opens her mouth and then suddenly realizes she has never explained this before and that's what she is going to have to do because Hunter doesn't seem to understand. She doesn't think he's offended - not yet - but he's definitely questioning where she is coming from, going by his expression. She wishes she could be more articulate about it, tell him why she gets so guarded emotionally - and today, physically. But she never has told anyone. She has no past point of reference to explain something like this. She's never told Hazel or Jerome because she isn't going to have them worry about their fucked up best friend. She's never told her mother, Justin, or Tucker because it would probably break their hearts and make them start begging her to move in with them again. She never told Miguel, even though she could go as far as to say that she loved Miguel. Not like she loves Hunter, her love for Hunter is an entity all on its own, but she did truly love Miguel. It's why she pushed him away by breaking up with him when Seth began harassing him to the point where Miguel almost lost his job and that's even scarier in the deaf world than in the hearing world. Rather than put more stress on him by telling Miguel the trauma Seth had inflicted and still inflicts on her, she let him go. He hadn't needed her stress on top of his own.

Hunter doesn't either.

So why is she thinking of telling him anyway?

"Hey," Hunter murmurs, carefully bringing her into his arms. Molly lets herself be pulled in closer until she's practically in his lap. She lets herself accept the comfort and puts her left arm around Hunter's shoulders before being guided down to the bed. Somehow, Hunter doesn't aggravate her shoulder when he does it. He lets his chest elevate her shoulder and lets her head rest against the crook of his neck. He doesn't push her to answer him, surprisingly. He leaves the ball in her court. It might actually be the silence that gets her to talk more than anything.

"The injury to my shoulder is from when Seth attacked me," she says slowly, "He uh...He had punched me a couple of times after I hit him in self-defense and tried to run. He grabbed me by my hair and hit my head against a brick wall just hard enough to disorient me. He turned me around and punched me in the jaw, several times in the ribs and stomach, then shoved me on the ground onto my stomach and got on top of me. When I tried to get him off of me, he yanked my arm back so far that it fully tore my rotator cuff and took my shoulder out of its socket. I couldn't do much with one arm and I think he knew that so that's why he did it. It's like he wasn't going to stop until he heard it pop and heard me scream-"

She's not going to start crying, she's not, even if this is the first time she's discussed it in detail since reporting it to the police. She doesn't know what Hunter is doing, whether he's crying or seething or even asleep. He's not saying a word. All things considered, he is taking it pretty well. She's not going to get into how terrified she had been when he ripped the back of her dress and pulled down her underwear. She isn't going to get into how her heart had practically stopped beating in her chest when she heard his pants unzip. She won't do that to Hunter. She won't trigger the trauma she knows he has from his own abuse. She also isn't going to do that to herself.

"...Anyway," she says, trying to move on, "This is the only injury that bothers me sometimes, or gets retorn. I have really minor TMJ in my jaw and that sometimes irritates me. But I feel powerless when my shoulder aches, let alone gets reinjured. I injured it back when I was getting my students out of the building through the window. That tear was worse than this one. I injured it again last summer when I was helping my Grandpa get up off the ground. When I do hurt it again, I have nightmares over what happened with Seth. Other people touching it usually doesn't help matters, even if it helps with the pain. It's probably why Tucker is so insistent about coming down. When I hurt it again in Connecticut, I apparently woke up all upset. I don't remember it but I guess I wasn't quiet about it. It might happen tonight. I should sleep on the couch since you have to be up at 2 am-"

"No," Hunter rasps out before his voice becomes stronger, "No, you're staying in the bed. If you are feeling like you need space after what you told me, I can sleep on the couch. I...fuck, Molly, you know I would understand that more than anyone. But I really want to be here with you if you're okay with it."

Molly nods, not trusting herself enough to voice that need as she squeezes her eyes shut and burrows her face into Hunter's neck. Hunter's arms embrace her tightly and she's asleep by 9:30. When she wakes up gasping an hour later, she barely registers the nightmare she just had or even waking up as Hunter whispers soothing reassurances and leads her back onto his chest. She falls back asleep within a minute.

------------------------

She blearily opens her eyes when Hunter's alarm goes off and immediately glares as soon as he predictably starts fretting about leaving her for work.

"You can't call off," Molly says to him, "You manage all of the camera and lighting crew and work closely with the director. If you wanted a job you could call off from, you should have decided to be much less important and talented. It's your own fault."

"Quit blowing smoke up my ass. DPs are technically considered 'below the line' and replaceable in the crew hierarchy."

"But you're at the top of the replaceable people," Molly insists, "Like, right below where some prestigious asshole drew that stupid, insensitive line to begin with."

The corner of Hunter's mouth quirks up in amusement but then he starts to look more serious, "Maybe you can hang out in my trailer-"

"See? You're important enough to get a trailer," she interrupts, then shakes her head, "Maybe you can do the whole 'Take your girlfriend to work' routine tomorrow. I'm honestly exhausted and-"

Before she can finish her sentence, Katniss trots through the open bedroom door and hops up onto the bed, coming up to Molly to look down at her, purring loudly as she begins to knead on Molly's side.

"...And apparently your daughter wants me to breastfeed her," Molly finishes, petting Katniss as she begins suckling on the blanket, "Obviously, I need to stay here today and wean her."

"She can't be weaned," Hunter says, glancing down at the cat, "She was abandoned too young so she just does shit like that, all while acting like she's too mature for everyone when she's not trying to get milk out of your stomach."

Katniss gets over the suckling quickly enough and settles above her bad shoulder, resting her chin on Molly's collarbone as if she's protecting Molly's injury.

"Hunter, get me my computer, I can't get up, she's too cute to disturb," Molly says, all while trying not to coo at the now sleeping cat.

"Why?" Hunter asks, getting it out of her bag anyway, "It's 2 am. Go to sleep. Katniss has the right idea."

"I will, but I want to put something on Netflix first," Molly tells him, "In case I can't go back to sleep. Something soothing. Like Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey."

"That will suck you in and you know it," Hunter says, "Watch that Nikola Tesla documentary. Apparently the dude got cheated out of electricity patents and fell in love with a pigeon."

"That doesn't sound boring to me at all. Pigeons are fascinating," Molly says, before opening her laptop to browse Netflix, "Wait, here is a documentary from the 60s about surfers. I don't give a shit about surfing."

"Sounds like a perfect choice," Hunter says before coming over to give her a kiss and briefly pat Katniss on the head, "Get some rest, alright? Don't overdo it. I'll get the place down the street to deliver lunch to you around 11:30."

"I am capable of cooking-"

"Yeah, I know you are," Hunter says, "It's only partly about your arm. The other part is that I barely have anything at the moment. I haven't had much of a chance to go shopping. There's a really good Vietnamese restaurant that delivers here. I'll send you the link. Just tell me what you want and I'll have it sent over."

Molly gives him a look, "You do realize I can get food delivered here myself, right? I'm not an invalid and just because I am not rich, doesn't mean I am destitute."

"It isn't about money," Hunter says, "It's about my obsessive need to take care of my injured girlfriend, stemming from guilt over the fact that I will be gone until late afternoon. It's purely instinctual and probably primitive. I can't help it."

"You have issues," Molly tells him as he gets on the bed to sit on his knees, bending over her to kiss her face and neck all while he begs her in between each kiss to let him send her food.

"Fine, you weirdo," Molly sighs, "Now, go to work. Leave me and Katniss in peace."

Hunter gives her an affectionate look, then bends down to kiss her fully on the lips, only slightly jostling Katniss in the process which causes her to growl.

"Wow," Hunter says to the cat, "I see how it is, how easily you change alliances."

"She's a good guard cat," Molly yawns, reaching over with her left arm to scratch Katniss behind the ears, which Katniss seems very satisfied with, "I thought about getting a dog for protection, but who needs one with you, huh?"

Hunter looks at her for a second, then shugs in a nonchalant way that seems forced, "You should still get a dog. A big one who is super sweet and likes cats but we can train to attack on command if needed."

"Uh huh," Molly says, knowing exactly why Hunter added that last bit despite his feeble attempt at being subtle, "If I wasn't so busy, I would probably get one. It just isn't the right time."

"...Fine," Hunter says, "When we move to New York then. Because it's happening. There will be two of us. We can manage a dog and a cat."

"Okay," Molly murmurs. Part of her wants to point out how in demand he's becoming on the West Coast. On Friday night, Hunter had received a call from his agent telling him that he is being offered the head DP position for a show filming in New Mexico. On Sunday afternoon, his agent called him almost in a frenzy to tell him that Noah Baumbach and Danny Boyle both expressed interest for him to be their DP on their films that go into production at the end of August due to seeing his reel. From what Molly could get out of Hunter, one is filming in Oregon. The other movie isn't on the west coast though. It's filming in Australia.

She doesn't want to point out that she already knows he is going to do one of those movies. She doesn't want him to kick himself due to saying no just because he's stuck in some mindset telling him that he has to focus on finding work in New York. She doesn't want him to pass that kind of opportunity.

She also doesn't want to get him upset before work by telling him it might be a couple of years before his goal to move across the country in order to be with her will happen, if it happens at all.

"Have a good day," she tells him, briefly lifting herself up to kiss him once more, "I'll see you later.

---------------------

She mainly stays in bed all day with Katniss, sleeping on and off, only getting up twice. Once to use the bathroom and take a shower, which takes longer than she'd like due to the pain of getting undressed and dressed again. She could have waited for Hunter to help her. Knowing how he's been since last night, he probably would have preferred her to. But the thought of Hunter helping her while she's down for the count makes her feel embarrassed - like a burden. It had been bad enough when Tucker had to help her back when she was truly, significantly injured but it was different with him. He is her stepfather. He has been just as much of a dad to her as her biological father has been, more in several ways. She doesn't want to be sexy for Tucker. Hunter is a different story.

After she gets dressed, she takes the opportunity while she's up to give herself a tour of the place since Molly wasn't up for it last night. The place is honestly nice and she doesn't get why Hunter is so put off by it. It's sort of white and plain but she's sure that it isn't cheap, going by the hardwood floors and appliances. But as she explores it more, she realizes that it doesn't feel like a home. It feels very temporary, from the minimal decor and color to the not-lived in feeling due to the lack of food in the fridge and absolute lack of any kind of clutter or personal belongings. Hunter is actually very neat - definitely the neatest guy she has ever dated - but he isn't absolutely immaculate to the point where absolutely nothing is left out. The condo feels barren and cold and suddenly she finds herself not liking the place either.

She goes back into the bedroom and stays there until the lunch Hunter has delivered for her arrives. He video chats with her since it is his own lunch break. She watches him walk away from the craft and services tent and across a field towards his trailer, only getting stopped along the way by Jennifer who asks who Hunter is chatting with, butting her head into frame to introduce herself, which puts Molly in the position of introducing herself in return, only to be told how hot she is and to hear Jennifer Lawrence say, "Dude! You never told us how hot Molly is! What the fuck? I don't blame you for being upset about the distance. I'd be dying to fuck her too if I swung that way a little more. Let me talk to her again."

"Go bother someone else, I'm on my break," Hunter says, dismissing her, because he can apparently talk to movie stars like that despite supposedly being 'replaceable'.

"You better go out with us tomorrow night and bring her with you!" Molly hears Jennifer call out, "I want to see her in person and bask in her beauty!"

As soon as Hunter gets settled in his trailer and props the phone up on the table, acting as if one of the biggest actresses in Hollywood waxing poetic on his girlfriend is no big deal, Molly asks, "Are we supposed to go out tomorrow?"

Hunter shrugs, "Not really. Jen probably just wants a DD and she knows I don't drink...well most of the time."

Hunter adds the words hesitantly, his expression guarded. If he doesn't want to mention his drunken breakdown over a week ago, then Molly won't either.

"Anyway," Hunter continues, "She can afford an Uber. Neither of us are obligated to go meet up with her."

Molly snorts, "Stop pretending you're annoyed by her."

Hunter scoffs, "I wouldn't say I am annoyed by her. She's a friend now, I guess. She's just super loud and annoying today. Probably to pull herself out of a funk. We shot the scene where her character's baby gets eaten by a group of her husband's fans."

"Sounds like a routine scene to me," Molly answers, holding back a shudder, "But if she's feeling upset and trying to get her mind off of things, it might be nice to go out with her."

Hunter glances at the phone, giving her a warning look, "This better not be another way of you trying to get me to sleep with her or anyone else besides you."

"Oh, please," Molly says, rolling her eyes, "I wouldn't push you to fuck someone else while I'm here. Only if I am away and you need to get off."

"It isn't happening. Ever."

"Whatever," Molly says, "Like I said, the offer to fuck another girl who isn't me isn't on the table when we are in the same state. The only way that would happen is if you want a threesome with me and Jennifer."

Hunter raises his eyebrows at that, "Slightly more tempting, but I'm still going to decline."

"Are you sure?" Molly asks, "She thinks I'm hot. She might be down for it. The fact that a threesome like that is in the realm of possibility and your girlfriend is open to it should make you see how lucky you are-"

"Yeah, it does. That being said, it's still a no," Hunter snorts, turning back to his food.

Hunter returns that afternoon around 3:30 and they keep the touristy stuff low-key. If she was feeling better, he would probably have her hiking and sightseeing well into the night. But instead, they stick to mostly driving around, with Hunter pointing out different historical monuments so that Molly doesn't miss them. They go to dinner at 7. Hunter takes her to some romantic, rustic, and expensive New American restaurant that she looks at with trepidation.

"This is expensive," Molly says, looking at the menu on the phone. The place is literally called 'Rich Table'.

"It's not terrible," Hunter says, "You can get a four course meal for fifty bucks. That's $12.50 for each course. And I'm hungry as fuck so that's what I'm getting and you're always hungry so it works."

"There's not a dress code, is there?" Molly asks.

"No, there isn't," Hunter tells her, "According to the website, they are against dress codes. And even if there was one, you always look amazing so a dress code would be moot point."

"A sling isn't elegant or upscale."

Hunter nods, then puts the car back into drive before beginning to slowly back out of his parking spot, "You're right. There is a Swarovski store a couple of blocks from here. Let's ask them to bedazzle your sling in their finest crystals-"

"I'm jumping out," Molly warns, opening the door. Hunter rolls his eyes and puts the car back in park again.

The meal is actually very good, despite her feelings about restaurants with more than two dollar signs on Yelp. Normally, Hunter actually has similar feelings when it comes to overpriced dining. Despite his habit of wanting to treat her to trips, fly out to her, and fly her out to him, they both tend to gravitate towards holes in the wall, hidden gem restaurants that aren't particularly fancy or pricey. Their first date had fed four people for less than fifty bucks all together, including tip. She's not sure if he's doing this because of the incline in his career and hanging out with so many prominent people recently or if it's because he feels bad that he was gone all morning or if he is just being driven by that dumb, instinctual need to care for her and impress her. Either way, she suddenly becomes intensely aware that her dominant arm is down for the count when the first course is put in front of her. The cheese and guava empanadas are easy enough to eat with her left hand but it is definitely harder than it would be with her right. The bread and butter is more difficult though and Hunter must see her avoiding it since he butters a piece for her, then puts it on the plate in front of her.

"You are right-handed," Hunter says when she looks at him in confusion, "I would have problems if I was in the same situation. You'd do the same."

"Yes, I would," Molly admits, "But I figured it would be a good time to avoid excess carbs. Watch my figure or whatever."

"I always watch your figure. It's fucking hot."

"Uh huh."

Hunter scoffs, "Don't act like I am exaggerating. You know what your brain and body do to me. Your whole package? I dig it. Change nothing."

And yeah, he proves how into her he is when they get back to the condo. He makes sure she is in a comfortable position before mercilessly going down on her until her legs are practically wrapped around his head to hold him in place, she has come three times, and she's crying out what is probably nonsense since her brain has been turned into mush.

He insists that she doesn't have to do anything in return - that he can deal and get himself off - but she enjoys getting Hunter off as much as he enjoys getting her off so she makes it work. They find a good position where she's lying on her left side and he's spooning her, thrusting into her carefully until her arousal from it has her spreading her legs so that he can wrap his arm around her waist to rub her clit as he kisses her neck and injured shoulder. She feels so good that - at the moment - she can't feel the injury at all.

-------------------------

Hunter doesn't know how he feels about Molly and Jennifer hitting it off so well.

On the one hand, if there had been any insecurity on Molly's end regarding him working with a pretty, prominent actress, it doesn't seem to be an issue anymore. On the other hand, he really hopes that Molly's approval of her doesn't get her to weirdly approve of Jennifer as a prospective girlfriend of some sort because he isn't about that shit, even if Molly somehow feels like she's doing him a favor. He can't sleep with more than one person at a time and ever since he and Molly started all of this, he can't think of anyone else in a sexual or romantic way other than her. It doesn't matter how pretty or smart or successful or funny any other girl might be. They aren't Molly. He's so fucking monogamous at this point that it probably makes him a prude.

But overall, he's glad they are getting along, to the point where Jennifer has invited her buzzed self over so that she can hang with his equally buzzed girlfriend and Hunter can be a third wheel.

"Hunter, we're hungry!" Molly calls out right after she beats Jen at Poker the third time in a row, a win that causes Jen to yell 'What the fuck!' at the top of her lungs because she is probably not used to losing anything.

He mostly keeps to himself while Jen is there. He makes them food with the groceries Molly went out, bought, and carried back to his condo like an uninjured person who thinks her shoulder is fine when it fucking isn't. He watches from the accent chair as Jen gets all excited over suddenly figuring out Molly's brother is The Justin Taylor, all while Molly just looks put off by The preceding Justin's name.

"You don't understand how much I have spent on his work," Jennifer says, "I always fucking miss him when he does a show, like barely, but have probably spent over a million for his paintings. I'm so much of a fan that it's probably creepy. FaceTime him, please please please please please-"

"Okay, fine!" Molly says, caving in at Jen's insistence as she FaceTimes her brother. Justin answers in absolute confusion. He doesn't sound tired despite it being past midnight in New York, but Hunter knows from his time spent with Justin that the guy is a night owl. The confusion probably comes from Molly calling him to video chat, something confirmed when Justin says, "Why are you set on seeing my face tonight? Do you miss me that much?"

"No, not really," Molly shrugs, "I actually barely think of you. Someone over at Hunter's is a fan of yours and freaked out when your name got brought up. She wanted to meet you. She has some of your work."

"I promise I'm not a creep," Jennifer says, butting in as she takes Molly's phone, causing Justin to sputter at the sight of her before Jennifer starts gushing over Justin's talent and Molly leaves her phone unsupervised in order to throw herself in his lap.

"I love you," Molly mumbles, tucking her face into the crook of Hunter's neck as soon as Hunter's arms circle around her, "So so so SO much."

"You're okay," Hunter says nonchalantly, which gets Molly to lift her head up and look down at him with a pout. Apparently drunk Molly can't detect sarcasm. Noted.

"You know that I love you too," Hunter says bringing her down for a kiss, "You should know that even when your brain is all foggy and drenched in alcohol."

Before Molly can answer that, Jennifer starts cooing at them before turning her attention back to Justin.

"You should paint a picture of your sister and her boyfriend," she insists to Justin, lying back on the couch, "They are so good together and so precious. Plus, they are both super hot. I would even commission it-"

"I'm good," Justin interrupts, "Seriously. Pick literally any other subject and I will do it."

"He's a dick about Hunter, don't mind him," Molly calls out loud enough so that Justin can hear, "He's mad because he knew Hunter before I did and didn't think we would fuck because we didn't for years but we now have many, many times so here we are."

Jennifer puts a hand to her heart, "That's so romantic. Justin, you should be happy for your sister. I will pay you 500,000 dollars to use them as your muses-"

"No."

Before Jennifer can fight him on the topic longer, Molly's phone begins to vibrate in Jennifer's hand.

"Someone named Hazel is trying to video chat with you," Jennifer in forms her, "Should I hang up on your genius brother?"

"She probably wants to show me the wedding dress," Molly says.

"Good enough reason for me," Jennifer shrugs, "It was nice meeting you, Justin! I'm sure we will meet again. Molly and I are friends now."

"How is that-"

But whatever Justin had been about to say is never revealed, since Jennifer has now disconnected the call to accept Hazel's.

"Hello!" Jennifer says, smiling and waving at the phone, all while Hazel's voice can distinctly be heard saying, "Oh my god, what the fuck?!"

But as soon as Hazel gets over the fact that an Oscar winning actress has Molly's phone, they warm up to each other immediately. Hunter isn't surprised. They are both loud, extroverted people. They warm up so much to each other that Jennifer is insisting that she'd love to go to Hazel's wedding in six weeks. He feels like if Molly was less buzzed, she would be incredibly weirded out by it all.

When Molly starts becoming a bit more obvious in her fatigue and Hunter is feeling it too, he gives Jennifer a ride back to her condo. It is only a ten minute drive, but the whole time is spent with her telling him how great Molly is.

"You really need to get over to the east coast, like ASAP," Jennifer says more seriously than he's ever heard her sound, "You've been so quiet since shooting started and now that she's here, you're a completely different, happier person. If I hear of any good projects or get contacted about anything over there, I am going to demand that you are the DP before I sign any contracts because I believe in the love you two share.”

"How nice and entitled of you," Hunter snorts, shaking his head, "But yeah...if you do happen to hear of something I can push for, especially if it's a show that can keep me over there-"

"I don't really do TV, Hunter," she interrupts, "I don't see why you do either. You could probably get an Oscar nod within two years if you solely focused on film."

"I actually like doing TV. There's room for experimentation and storybuilding. And I'm not going to take just any show," Hunter says, "Maybe something that would be on AMC or HBO. Or one of the streaming platforms. It's more steady and I am guaranteed to have a good income. I try to do one season and one movie a year, sometimes two movies if I have the time or it is something too good to pass on…I got an offer on a movie that I don't think I can say no to. Paul Thomas Anderson is doing it. The shoot should only be six to eight weeks but it's filming in Australia in the fall and Molly is working full-time in the fall and flying from West Virginia to Australia isn't a trip you can make in a weekend."

"It's an opportunity of a lifetime though," Jennifer says, "She would understand that."

"She would," Hunter agrees, then sighs, "It's me. I...I don't think I can handle being that far from her anymore. There's a 14 hour time difference from the east coast and Australia, I would probably barely get to do more than text her due to the schedule."

"Get her to go with you then," Jennifer shrugs, "You make enough to support her. I would do it if I met a guy who meant that much to me."

Hunter shakes his head, "She won't. I already know she won't. She has some family stuff going on. I wanted her to move out to LA and while she wants to, she's afraid to leave her dad and doesn't want to be that far from her brothers. Her mom and stepdad are in Connecticut taking care of her grandfather and she doesn't want to be far away from them either. She won't move to California, let alone travel to Australia for two months. If I can get something in New York for the fall, something worthwhile, I will pass on that job in a heartbeat. She has agreed to move there, I would be closer to my family there, so I want to be out there. I just don't think an offer like that is going to come in the next two weeks. The distance is fucking killing me. She's practically all I think about."

"...I get it," Jennifer says sadly, "I've had a couple of relationships end due to working abroad so much. It sucks."

He doesn't want to even think out the possibility of his relationship with Molly coming to an end so he doesn't respond to that at all.

---------------------------------------------------

Things come to a head on Saturday. It isn't at any fault of Molly's or Hunter's, although Hunter supposes that his temper doesn't help matters at all. But how the fuck is he supposed to react, especially when Molly came here with an injury she only got because of being attacked four years ago? How is he expected to see her hurt, hold her when she tells him more about the attack than he has ever heard before, comfort her after an inevitable nightmare, only for Molly's phone to begin ringing non-stop a few days later?

It starts at sunset, on their last night before Molly goes home. They are lying on a large blanket together on Muir Beach. It was supposed to be romantic. It had been. The beach is completely empty, empty enough for them to make out and grind against each other. Molly is shameless and is already reaching down his pants because she apparently wants him to fuck her in public-

"It's not in public," she insists as if she is reading his mind, then traces her tongue against his lips in a solid attempt to kill his resolve, "There's no one here. Just you and me."

"It's still a public beach," Hunter tells her, hissing out a breath when Molly runs her thumb over the head of his dick. He’s seriously thinking about doing it. It could probably cost them both of their jobs but really, could the authorities blame him? Hunter is positive most people would understand giving in once they saw Molly-

On the other side of the blanket, Molly's phone begins to vibrate. Hunter doesn't think much of it when Molly puts a pause on seducing him to reluctantly glance at who's calling before putting the phone down. At first, Hunter assumes it's Justin or Mason, maybe Hazel or Jerome. It's not until it rings again that Hunter wonders if it is important.

And then it rings again.

And again.

And again.

"I can't ignore this shit anymore," Hunter mutters, rolling off of Molly to sit up and pick up the phone.

"Hunter, don't," Molly says harshly, making a grab for the phone.

"Why?" Hunter shouts, "Ignoring him obviously isn't fucking helping, Molly! He called less than two weeks ago, don't tell me he fucking didn't. Your phone was off for two fucking days because he wouldn't stop! Back when you first told me about him, you said he did this every couple of months. He's getting worse. He's dangerous and he is getting worse."

Molly stares at him with a hint of tears in her eyes and it fucking kills him to see her like this. The look of defeat, sadness, pain, fear, and heartbreaking acceptance in her eyes is destroying him.

"...I know."

As soon as the words come out of Molly's mouth, Hunter is shocked - shocked that she doesn't even try to downplay it in a pointless attempt to comfort and diffuse him, that she's scared enough to admit that she knows. The admission almost takes him off guard but he can't show that, not now, not when he does know that she will probably try to backtrack and get Hunter to drop the subject anyway.

"I get that you're scared," Hunter says, "I'm scared for you. But I can't sit back and pretend he's just some minor nuisance. I fucking can't."

"...You shouldn't have to," Molly rasps out, "You shouldn't have to deal with this at all."

"No," Hunter says, already not liking her tone, "I'm fucking dealing with it - we're dealing with it - because we are a couple. I love you. What hurts you hurts me and you should know that, considering how you reacted to Rita."

"Rita doesn't constantly harrass you," Molly sniffles, "She was a fucking horrible, abusive bitch who let her kid be sexually and physically abused for money but she doesn't hold any power over you anymore. You got out from under her. Seth... Seth's never going to allow that. I can't even post pictures of us together because I'm terrified he will hurt you. I accepted years ago that I can't get married, probably can't have kids. Both of those things will be public record and either would probably make him snap. It's the reason why I said we should see other people, because you don't deserve to deal with this. It's selfish of me to even be in a relationship with you-"

"Stop it," Hunter says, standing up, "I don't want to hear that shit. You're only saying it because Seth has fucked with your head-"

"Yeah, but it doesn't make it any less right," Molly says sadly, "He will ruin you, Hunter. If he finds out I am with you and it's serious, he will try to destroy your career and reputation. He will find any dirt on you to make people not want to hire you."

Hunter scoffs at the notion and shakes his head, "What, you think he's going to call up my bosses and agent to tell them about my past? Release an exposé on one of my film's opening weekends to say that the cinematographer is HIV positive because he used to be a teenage prostitute?"

"I don't think that he will," Molly answers slowly, "I know that he will."

"Then fucking let him!" Hunter says, throwing up his hands, despite the thought of absolutely everyone knowing making him feel sick, "Do you know how easy it would be to turn around that narrative? If any production companies become assholes about it, the world can know that they are discriminating against someone who was homeless and sexually abused as a kid and are taking the word of someone who harrassed, beat, and sexually assaulted the cinematographer's girlfriend. We would be seen as brave and inspirational and directors might be dying to work with me. Seth might be doing my career a favor in the long run. Fucking. Let. Him."

"He'd lie," Molly mumbles, "Make shit up about you. Make accusations that can't be proven or disproven. They might not go far if he doesn't pay someone else to accuse you of anything, but they will go far enough to make people question whether or not you did anything. He sent a letter to Miguel's boss, saying that Miguel is a rapist, when he obviously isn't, all because he was my boyfriend. He emptied his bank account, fucked up his car, blew up his mailbox. I'm shocked that Miguel still checks in on me and doesn't hate me for all the stuff Seth put him through."

"Probably because he knows those things weren't your fault? Because he isn't an asshole and wants you to be happy and safe? Because he's not insane and horrible like Seth is?"

"Yeah, well…" Molly sighs, "He still accepted me breaking up with him without any argument. He was probably relieved. Rightfully so. He's happy now. His girlfriend is really sweet. Pretty too. No psychotic ex in the mix. Perfect, to be honest. Definitely an upgrade. It's why I think you should keep your options open."

"Well, Miguel's girlfriend is already taken," Hunter says more harshly than he intends, "I guess I'll just stay with you."

Molly glares, "You know what I meant-"

"Yeah, and I am fucking sick of hearing about it!" Hunter fumes, "I am fucking sick of Seth doing this shit, I am sick of what his shit has done and continues to do to your head, and I am sick of being across the damn country and worrying myself sick over you being alone and him possibly hurting you!"

"Then maybe this thing - whatever it is - should stop!" Molly chokes out, tears already filling her eyes, "If all you are getting is pain and worry out of our relationship, then I should fucking go home and stay there! You deserve better and I know you hate hearing me say that but it's true! Seth might always do this. He might continue to do this for decades and the people who have tried to help me or get him to stop either can't or get hurt. The people who have some power to help me won't and decide to help him instead. He probably won't stop until I am fucking dead and now he's hinting he might kill me too and maybe he's just full of shit but I'm tired of even thinking about it and I've been thinking about it more than usual because of my shoulder and I'm just tired-"

Molly breaks off only to sob into her hands and it takes everything within Hunter not to cry with her. He sits on his knees in front of her and pulls her closer. She fights it for a second, barely getting out, "No, no, I'm fine" before collapsing into his arms, the fight in her extinguished.

-------------------------

"Please. Just for the summer."

The bedroom is dark, but she can feel Hunter staring at her.

"I can't," she says, staring up at the ceiling. It really is dark. She can't even see it but she's looking up there anyway.

"Why?"

"I told you why."

Hunter lets out a frustrated groan, "You can't break down like that and not expect me to want you to stay here. I already wanted you here, but I could technically handle the distance, even if I hated it. Now, I need you here."

"I can't-"

"Jesus fucking Christ!' Hunter shouts, then gets out of bed to storm out of the room. Molly isn't sure if she should give him space or not. She has seen Hunter mad before, but that anger has never been directed at her, except for when she first suggested seeing other people. But they had been thousands of miles away from each other when that argument occurred so there was no choice but to give him space, tons of space. Now, it's different. They're in the same condo, sharing the same bed.

But before she can think much more about lying down or going after him, Hunter comes back in the room and tosses her phone on the bed.

"It's still ringing," he says, as if she can't see that for herself.

"I'm aware."

"Let me pick it up."

"Due to the reasons I listed before, I'd rather you didn't."

Hunter stares at the phone with such an intensity that Molly is seriously wondering if he is going to break it. He has self-control and doesn't but she can tell that he just barely managed to get a hold of himself.

"Molly, please," Hunter says, his voice shaky, "I miss you so fucking much. I was a fucking wreck after I flew back to LA. If you just stayed until September-"

"I have work," Molly tells him, "I am still working a couple of days a week for another month. You know that."

"Just…" Hunter starts, then grips his hair, "It's a part-time job! It isn't your regular position! You are doing it as a favor! I'm not saying it isn't an important job, it's definitely more important than mine, but I'm contracted to be on this shoot until mid-July and work full-time. You aren't obligated to work there in the summer. Please, stay with me and Katniss. She likes you more than she likes me at this point and I thought that was impossible."

"She doesn't like me more," Molly mumbles, right before Katniss walks through the door, jumps up on the bed and puts her front paws on Molly's chest to nuzzle against her face.

"Uh huh," Hunter says dubiously, looking somewhat amused for the first time this evening.

"Look, it isn't that I don't want to be here with you, I do," Molly says, stroking the cat's head, "But if I back out of this summer gig without any reason or notice, it could possibly jeopardize my regular position when fall comes along. You said yourself that Skinner is probably going to be out to get me. I shouldn't give him more of a reason. My best friend is also getting married in July and I want to be there for her when it comes to whatever she needs me to do. And my dad is sick, Hunter. You know that he isn't well. You know that I'm the only one he's calling when he's lonely or upset. I can't up and leave him right this second for that amount of time -"

"Then he can move out here too," Hunter interrupts, "I will buy a bed for the guest room and it can become Craig's room. I don't mind."

"Oh yeah, you, me, and Dad, living it up in LA," Molly snorts, "That's hilarious."

"I wasn't fucking joking."

"I know," Molly says, shrugging, "That's what makes it funnier."

As Molly takes a breath and tries maintain her calm, Hunter starts to speak again.

"If you told your dad what was going on, I bet he would want you across the country," Hunter tells her softly, "He loves you. He would want you as far away from Seth as you can get."

"No one knows where Seth is, Hunter," Molly reminds him, "For all I know, he's checking my emails, knows that I'm in San Francisco, followed me from the airport, and is staying at the hotel down the street."

"I doubt it -" Hunter starts but Molly cuts him off.

"He's done it before, twice that I know of," Molly tells him, "Once when I was visiting Justin in New York and another time when I went up to Maine with Hazel, Jerome, and Liu. Those are the two times I saw him, at least. I was quiet about both trips too."

It seems to upset Hunter to hear it - he actually looks like he's ready to check every hotel in a five mile radius so that he can commit murder. That's something she doesn't want so she tries to get her mind off of it.

"Mid-July," Molly says, "That's when this movie wraps, right? We can manage to be together for a month or so then. Go to Hazel's wedding, go see Tucker, my mom, and my grandparents, go see your parents and sister, go on a trip maybe. You can even bring Katniss. She can stay at my apartment. I will go get everything she needs. We can spend time together until you go to Australia near the end of August."

Hunter meets her eyes then, looking more nervous than she's ever seen him look, "I haven't agreed to do that movie. I would need to quit the show-"

"Good, because you are more qualified than the head cinematographer of it. You took it to lie low but Rita can suck it. Time to move onto better things."

"...I don't want to be that far away, from you or from my family," Hunter finishes softly, "Not for that long."

"It isn't that long," Molly says, "And it's an opportunity of a lifetime. You will kick yourself for the rest of your life if you say no. I'll kick you too because you are supposed to be smarter than that."

Hunter just stands there silently, lost in his conflicting thoughts, so Molly reaches out for him.

"Come back to bed," Molly says, sitting up to pull on Hunter's arm, "At the risk of pissing you off again, it's my last night here and I want to make the most of it because I am super horny, especially since you refused to fuck me on a public beach. I can't believe you would do that to me."

Hunter tries to smile but it comes off more as a grimace. He's extremely angst-ridden at the moment. Molly hates it. She's going to have to put her all into this - go above and beyond when it comes to making Hunter go out of his mind with lust for her, instead of murderous rage towards Seth. She starts out with an enthusiastic blow job, one Hunter seems to try to be non-chalant about until it becomes too much and his head falls back against the pillow as he moans. When he's turning them over so that he can thrust inside her, Molly grabs the ever vibrating phone and throws it under the bed.