Joan of Arc (closed)

"Who was here?" he said sharply, the panic clear in his voice. "Who was here Joan?"

Grimes took a quick look around to make sure that there were no immediate threats coming toward them. Seeing nothing, he removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. He knelt in front of her, trying to get her to answer him, but she seemed hysterical.

"Joan, I need you to tell me what happened." Grimes said in a slightly lower voice.

He reached for her hand, and almost recoiled back at feeling how cold she was. Trevor looked toward the open door of her apartment. It was reckless to enter it not knowing if whoever had upset her was still there or not, but she was freezing and he needed to get her warmed up. The wind was starting to pick up and the snow was falling a bit heavier. If they both didn't get inside soon, they would an ambulance for the both of them.

Without another word, Trevor leaned forward and scooped her up in his arms and walked toward the door. It was risky, but he figured that if she was out here, whomever had been here was probably long gone.

"It's ok Joan. You're safe now." Grimes murmured softly. "We just need to get you warmed up."

He could feel her shaking uncontrollably, though he wasn't sure if it was from the cold or from fear. As soon as he had cleared the threshold, he kicked the door shut with his foot. Whatever heat that had been in the space had been replaced with air the same temp as outside. He searched for her bedroom, finally finding it and walking over to the bed. He sat her on the edge of it gently and then pulled the comforter off, wrapping it around them both. He held her close to him, trying to use what was left of his body heat to warm her up.

"It will be ok Joan, just tell me what happened." he said soothingly.

"I don't want to go back. I don't want to go back." It was all she could whisper as her frightened mind started to shut down.

She had never been violent in her paranoia. Most of it was focused on herself and there had been one serious attempt at suicide in the past. That moment, though, it was the furthest thing from her mind. She simply didn't want to go back to the hospital. If he had called an ambulance, she would have run off into the neighborhood and hidden. It wouldn't have made sense to a rational person, but to Joan, she would have chosen to take her chances in the middle of the winter without proper clothing than to go with police or paramedics.

She glanced down at his hands as Grimes stripped off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. It was then that she realized just how cold she really was. Her teeth were chattering by the time he scooped her up in his arms and carried her back into the apartment. He wanted answers and he needed them now. However, she wasn't sure that she could give him what he wanted. That tiny, rational side of her was struggling against the wave of terror and paranoia. Even the voices were being drowned out as Grimes carried her through her apartment and into her bedroom.

She was trembling violently as he sat them on the edge of her bed, wrapping the white comforter around their shoulders. Her breathing was shallow and quick, like that of a frightened rabbit, as he tried to soothe her enough to get some answers.

"Derek. He was here." She murmured finally through her chattering teeth. "He said he called Janey. And my dad. And he wanted me to stay away or he was going to take me to the hospital himself."

Her words were quick with panic, a large tremor shaking her to the core. "Please don't take me, Grimes. Please don't."

At the academy, they had drilled it in to him. During his years on the force, throughout all of his various assignments, it had been repeated to him on numerous occasions. "Rely on your training." The problem was, he had never been trained to handle situations quite like this. He had dealt with frightened and hysterical people before. In his line of work it was almost a given. More than once, he had been tasked to deliver the worst news of someone's life to them, and had did his best to comfort them and settle them enough so that he could ask the questions that he needed to.

This seemed different. This seemed personal. He wasn't sure whether it was because the two of them had shared a meal a few hours before or because he liked Joan, but sitting there, wrapped in a comforter, shivering and listening to her beg him not to send her back to the hospital seemed outside the scope of his experience and training.

When she told him that Simmons had been there, he had to fight the urge to run out of there and find that cocksucker and pound his face in. But her sobbing pleas not to take her to the hospital caused him to refocus on her and instead of rushing out of there, he pulled her closer.

"Shhhhh. Okay, it's going to be okay Joan." Grimes whispered into the top of her head as he held her to him. "We don't have to go anywhere, just settle down and let's get you warm." Trevor said soothingly.

The feelings of panic, fear, and anger started to ease and he began to concentrate on just getting them both warm. His left hand moved gently up and down the length of her left arm. Her skin was wet and cold to the point it almost seemed lifeless. It struck him for the moment how her skin felt so far removed from the warm hand he had squeezed at the table in the diner. His right hand went to the side of her face and gently stroked her chilly cheek. It wasn't lost on him how intimate this whole thing seemed. They were relative strangers, but setting on a bed in an apartment, huddled together with his arms wrapped around a woman he had just met this morning. If the situation hadn't seemed so dire, Grimes was sure he would have laughed about it over a few drinks with Skins later that evening.

"Are your family on their way over Joan?" Grimes said just above a whisper as her thawing hair tickled his nose.

As Joan started to calm, she realized how he was holding her. No one held her like that. How many times in her wildest dreams had she wanted to be held like that? Most of the time she felt like the worst kind of creepy bug, the thing that most people wanted to be far away from. With Grimes it was different. She felt like he wanted to be there with her. She could almost believe that perhaps he might even be a friend.

"I don't know." She whispered softly as his hands moved over her skin, struggling to warm her up. "I don't think so."

Her family might come. She doubted they would though. It was close to the holidays and they were too busy for her. She only saw her father when her step mother and step siblings weren't around. She only saw her sister when it was convenient for her. She didn't even know where Michael had gone that evening and it was a little strange that he wasn't there.

She realized that her pajamas were soaked through. The thin fabric clinging to her skin from the snow that had fallen while she had sat on there on the stoop. She needed a change of clothing and a good, hot meal. Her belly rumbled in hunger, almost painfully so.

"I'm sorry." She murmured softly as she finally came back to herself, the buzzing in her brain dulling until she could think clearly without the paranoid thoughts racing through her mind. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Don't worry about it." he whispered while gently cupping her cheek and moving her face so their eyes could meet. "I am glad you called. A few more moments out in the cold like that and it would have been too late."

There was more that he wanted to say. He wanted to scold her for putting herself in danger like that. He wanted to tell her how foolish it was and to remind her that she could have left her friends and family behind wondering why. Instead, he just pulled her to him tightly, gently kissing the top of her head without thinking. Realizing how intimate things were feeling, at least for him,, he decided to refocus on his original task, warmth.


'Why don't you take a nice warm shower, and I will make us some coffee. Then, once we are both warmed up, we can thing about getting a bite to eat. I don't know about you, but a good meal always makes me feel better." he said with a smile as he pulled away from her.

Even now, as she sat there with wet hair, he couldn't help but notice how attractive Joan was. Her eyes were clear now, and that same ice blue color that he remembered from this morning.

"I don't have any coffee." She murmured softly as he continued to hold her tightly, his lips brushing against her hair from time to time.

It was odd the way that he offered her comfort, but Joan soaked it in like a flower dying of thirst. She almost ached with the need to be held and cherished and touched. It felt good, she thought to herself. Almost too good to be true.

"There might be some tea." She mentioned, readying herself to get up and shower. "I'm not sure."

She had no idea what was in her kitchen cabinets. Money was tight and she rarely remembered to go shopping. She lived on Ramen noodles and canned soups most of the time. It was too much to get out of the apartment and go to the grocery store where she would be packed in with hundreds of other people all buzzing with different voices and tones.

"I'll be out in a little bit." She murmured, shifting out of Grimes's arms to gather some fresh clothes and a robe.

Then she was gone, leaving him alone in her apartment. It was a sparsely decorated. No pictures or posters were on the walls. Her bedroom was only big enough to hold her bed, a nightstand, and a dresser. Her nightstand contained a jungle of pill bottles, all with her name and all with incredibly complicated names. The only other things in the room were a lamp and a clock. The rest of the space wasn't much different. Her living room had a couch, a recliner, a coffee table with an old beat up laptop and piles of books and papers.

A bookcase held the only photo in the entire apartment. It was a little boy, about two with sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Joan thought about her nephew a lot and he meant a lot to her if she had kept his photo. The shelf also contained red bound journals much like the one she carried and a set of fairy tales that looked like they had seen better days. The room was completed with a green Christmas tree that was completely bare save for white lights and a single present beneath with a tag that read "for Max." No other gifts could be seen.

Just like that she was gone. Grimes sat there on the bed alone for a moment, his hands in his lap. It was strange, how though she had felt so cold to the touch, the room actually felt colder and emptier without her in it. How could someone he barely knew have made such an impact on him. The question left open prospects that were both exciting and troubling to the detective.

He stood, and looked around the small room. It was furnished to its capacity, yet sparsely decorated. as he made his way into the main room, he noticed it to be much the same. It was cluttered with books and papers. no pictures adorned the space save one; a little boy. There was an artificial Christmas tree nestled into one corner. Its only decoration was a few strands of clear lights. There was a solitary beneath it, and after looking toward the bathroom, Grimes bent and read the gift tag attached and whispered the words "For Max" to himself.

He didn't recognize the name, but by the choice of Christmas bear wrapping paper, Grimes guessed that Max was a child. He noted the care that had gone into the wrapping,, and surmised that this Max was someone that Joan must care about.

He moved to the kitchen and after a brief search, decided that going out for something to eat would be the better option. He wasn't sure what this neighborhood had in the way of dining, but he figured she could pick a spot for them to grab a decent meal.

"I'm thinking maybe we should go out for food." Grimes bellowed from the doorway of her bedroom.

Joan stood under the warm spray of the shower, her forehead pressed against the cold tiles as she heard Grimes yell through the door that they should go out to eat. She was slightly embarrassed that there was nothing suitable for them to eat in her apartment. She needed to take better care of herself, she thought absently as she tilted her hair back under the spray and finished washing her hair.

A few moments later, she emerged from the bathroom, her wet hair starting to curl around her shoulders as it dried. She had put on a thick, black sweater and a clean pair of jeans, her feet bare as she stood there looking at him for a long moment in silence.

"There's a McDonald's just down the street. We could go there." She said softly, throwing her pajamas and towel into a hamper to deal with later.

Grimes turned on his heels to face her at hearing her suggestion. His eyes blinked rapidly for few moments as he took in the woman before him. The transformation was unbelievable. With a little bit of hot water and a fresh set of clothes, Joan had gone from the sobbing shivering mess that he had encountered upon his arrival, to the pretty young woman that he had shared breakfast with earlier in the day. Her hair was still wet and curly, but he had always loved that look. Her sweater thick and warm looking, but still didn't hide the shapely torso underneath. The same could be said for her jeans. They weren't tight, but fit well and accentuated her hips and legs. He hadn't meant to stare, and his face reddened a bit at knowing she had caught his eyes roaming up and down her form.

"I was thinking someplace a little more...substantial." Grimes said with a slight smile. "How about we just wee what we can find?"

Grimes didn't have anything in particular against fast food places, but he had always enjoyed the atmosphere in diners and restaurants. He liked hearing the clank of rustling plates and cups and the seemingly endless flow of fresh faces that made their way through the aisles..

Joan was on the search for socks and shoes as Grimes suggested eating somewhere a little nicer. She turned to look at him with a pair of mismatched socks in her hand, her blue eyes a little too big for her face.

"Only if I can pay." She said in her soft voice as she sat down in her armchair with a pair of ratty sneakers and those socks. "You already paid for breakfast."

Her cheeks heated up a little bit at the thought of him spending money on her. No one spent money on her these days. It was scarce but she still had her pride among anything else. When she finished lacing her shoes, she grabbed her coat, scarf, gloves and hat as she had earlier. Her leather satchel was slung over her body and when she turned back towards him she looked like the same lost person as she had that morning.

"I don't know where my phone is." She mentioned absently as the voices hummed that she had thrown it in the gutter outside. "It's probably ruined by now if it's still outside."

Grimes hadn't even entertained the thought of her paying. He had taught himself early on not to prejudge people or situations, but as he took another look around the sparsely furnished room he didn't think that Joan would have a lot of disposable income.

"Fair enough." he said with a knowing smile. "How do you feel about Italian?"

Trevor hoped that she would find his suggestion agreeable for two reasons. He was craving something warm and hearty after their ordeal in the cold, and he had an in at a small restaurant about twenty minutes across town. He had been assigned protection duty for the owners of the small business a few years ago, and every since they would tell him that his money was no good there.

"Let's look for it real quick before we leave. It couldn't have gotten that far." Trevor said trying to hide the doubt in his voice.

"I love Italian." Joan said, giving him the slightest of smiles as she grabbed her keys and stepped out into the winter evening.

The light was dying as she turned to lock her door. The flakes had grown from icy flurries to fat flakes that drifted on the air. It was certainly beautiful and another time she would have paused to appreciate the sight. Instead, she found herself searching the gutter where the voices told her she had thrown it in her panic.

The flip phone was resting on a pile of damp leaves, wet and no longer functional. She let out a little sigh as she stared down at the blank screen. If she told her father, he would get her a new one. She wondered if it was possible to find one that was just like it. She liked the simplicity of her phone.

"Looks like it's toast." She said as she walked back to Grimes and showed him the phone. "Guess I'll have to save up to get another."

"Hmmm." was all Trevor could mutter as he looked the phone over. There were small droplets of water dripping from the bottom as she held it there.

"You're probably right. Then again, you could always try the rice trick in the meantime. For a couple bucks worth of rice, you might at least be able to salvage your contacts. Who knows, it may even work." Grimes finished trying to sound hopeful.

He reached for his keys and hit the unlock button on the fob. The headlamps flashed on and he could hear the faint "thunk" of the actuators unlocking the door.

"Shall we?" he asked as he made his way to the passenger door, opening it for her to enter. Just then he heard the familiar chime of his own phone alerting that he had a text message. Grimes figured it was Skins, but decided he could check later after they had eaten.

"You know..." he said, a thought suddenly hitting him. "We could even check Ebay for a phone like yours. There are hundreds of older phones on there that people are trying to unload. You can probably even find one from your carrier."

"I'd have to get some rice from the store." Joan commented as her guided her towards his car, opening the door for her before he went around to his side and slipped in.

She heard a soft chime issue from his pocket and she half expected him to pull his phone out to respond but he was a gentleman and left it where it was. She buckled herself in, glancing at him as he mentioned finding one similar to it online.

"We?" Joan asked, looking over at him as the car was put into motion. "It sounds like you want to hang around me more."

Why would anyone want to do that, she asked herself as she clenched her leather satchel just s little bit tighter against her chest. Especially a man like Trevor Grimes. He was way out of her league by any stretch of the imagination. Cops wanted people like her in hospitals. They didn't make friends.

For a moment, Grimes was stunned. He hadn't thought about the word "we" as an implication of anything, yet she had clearly taken it as such. He had started to correct the mistake, but stopped himself. In fact, he did want to hang around her more. He liked they way that they got along. She was surprisingly easy to talk to, although she had reminded him a couple of times about her condition, he hadn't really noticed it when they had been together.

As he thought about it even more, he began to wonder if she, in fact, wanted the same thing. After all, of all of the people she could have called to come help her, she chose him. She hadn't reached out to her boyfriend or family, or even 911; she had called the detective she barely knew for aid. Maybe she liked his company as well as he did hers. Maybe she felt safe enough around him that the voices in her head weren't as troublesome. Maybe, she just liked his looks and was attracted to him. Grimes had no way of knowing what her reason was, and honestly he didn't care.

"How would you feel if I said I did?" Grimes asked deciding to test the waters.

'He likes you, Joan.' Mary murmured as Joan stared straight ahead out of the windshield. 'You should think about it.'

'He just wants to fuck you. He's a cop. He puts people like you away forever.' The dark voice growled and she clenched her fingers around the leather satchel that she was hugging against her chest.

"I would say that you need to think long and hard about that." Joan murmured, her eyes never straying from the road ahead of them. "Guys like you shouldn't be around people like me."

Cops should never get close to someone that was crazy. It would only end in heartbreak for everyone involved. She was a freak of nature to normal, sane people. She was someone that could be tossed aside, someone without emotions or feelings. The truth of the matter was that she did care. She cared almost too much sometimes. Her heart had been ripped open time and time again, so many times that she had learned to hide herself away from anyone that tried to get too close.

"You're the first cop that ever treated me like human." She finally murmured, glancing over towards Grimes finally.

'He's the first person to treat you like a human.' Mary commented, Joan's blue eyes closing for a moment as those words made her heart ache horribly.

"But I don't make a good friend. I don't like parties. I don't like public places. I'm boring." She was trying so hard to convince him that she wasn't worthy.

'No, you're just scared.' Mary answered and Joan's lips pursed tightly together. 'You're always scared.'

"STOP IT!" Joan shouted at the imaginary voice, looking at Grimes with a mixture of horror and embarrassment for a moment before she turned her gaze back out the windshield.

Grimes found a spot along the street and quickly pulled the car over.

"Stop what?" Grimes asked softly. "Tell me what's going on Joan...please."

He sat there with his hands still on the wheel. Looking back out the windshield, he started to talk about how he felt about what she had said.

"Look, I'm not sure what you meant about 'guys like me', but I meant what I said about spending more time with you. I don't want to be just a cop that treats you decent. I'd like to be, at the very least, a friend."

He looked back over to her quickly before continuing. He noted how tightly she was clutching her leather bag.

"I'm not much of one for parties, and the only public places that I visit are the local bars." he paused a moment as he thought about that fact. "And I spend too much time at them." he finished a little quieter, and more to himself than Joan.

He looked back out the windshield at the street slowly disappearing under a thin sheet of snow. This was as exposed as he had ever felt and he didn't like the feeling. He hadn't fully prepared himself for the possibility that she could reject him, and tell him that they should keep their distance from one another.

"Look, Joan." he said after a few minutes. "I'm not trying to promise you anything. I have no idea where we could lead." He looked back over to her, trying to read her reaction. "But I don't want to condemn something that hasn't even started yet. I'd like to just...see where it leads."

As he talked, another thought hit him. What if she just wasn't that interested in him? What if she was just using her illness as a convenient excuse to let him down easy? What if...

"Of course, if your not interested in me, you can tell me."

Hearing someone admit that they desperately needed a friend made her belly hurt in the worst way. Joan had never been good at being a friend. Not that she didn't need one in her life. She simply would allow people to drift away from her without really understanding how to keep them at her side for any length of time. Sometimes she had a hard time separating reality from the storm that was happening inside of her own head.

Her blue gaze slowly turned towards him as he finished talking, the leather bag still held so tightly in her arms. She wasn't sure what to say to him. She had only known Grimes for a few short hours, but she felt more connected to him then her own family. It was hard to understand just how that had happened. How had this cop, the man who was investigating a murder, become so important to her that she would call him to her rescue over her own boyfriend?

"I am interested in a friendship." She finally admitted to him, her cheeks growing bright red as she suddenly grew incredibly embarrassed. "But I'm not really good at keeping people I like around. Even things with my boyfriend are...strained. I love him, but I can't tell him what goes on in my head. You have no idea how important it is to me to have a normal life. I've never had that."

"I hear voices and I talk to those voices. That makes me a freak in the eyes of most people. In the eyes of my own family. I can't cope with the world sometimes. Most people have no idea what it's like to hear things you can't explain or get rid of. I get paranoid in crowds. I can only stand to be in the grocery store long enough to buy a few cans of soup at a time." Joan was quiet for a long moment as if she were about to tell him the biggest secret of all. "With you...they stop. Well, mostly stop. I've never had that happen before."

He hoped that he hadn't actually winced when she said that she loved her boyfriend. It was stupid to be jealous, and he knew it, but he couldn't stop the slight sting of the admission. When she continued though, those feelings went away. In fact, he became a bit hopeful as she said the voices quieted when she was with him, and no one else.

"Well, I am the last person in the world that knows anything about a normal life. I live in a world of death, and treachery; of despair and hatred. It's rare that I get to interact with anyone alive and if I do it's only so that I can give them news and ask questions that shatter everything that they had ever known as normal. I spend the bulk of my days and nights listening to the whispers of the dead and trying to unlock the secrets of how they met their end."

He paused, as he thought about how much of himself he was willing to reveal.

"I don't hear their voices Joan, but I see their faces. I hear the sobs of their loved ones. And until I met you...I tried to drown them with whiskey. Maybe we are both freaks, but maybe we can help each other get a glimpse of what others call normal."

He had put it all out there and now he waited for her reaction. He wouldn't blame her if she demanded that he just take her home. She had enough to deal with without taking on his baggage as well. It had felt good to finally say it all though. He had never actually voiced how he felt to anyone, even Skins, yet somehow she had always seem to understand.

"So, you still hungry?"

There were both wounded people who simply needed someone to understand them. Joan had met others like her in the past, but she had never formed a connection with them. Grimes was different. He was sane. He was a cop that was sworn to uphold the law and be honest. She had heard all of the lies and false hopes before, but this time, she truly believed him.

"I guess we can be friends then." She murmured softly, turning back towards him with a slight and hopeful smile on her lips. "But you have to stop drinking. Mary says it'll kill you sooner than you know and she hadn't been wrong about things so far."

When he mentioned eating she nodded, her belly rumbling in hunger. She wanted to eat her weight in pasta and then take a nice long nap. It had been a stressful day to say the very least and she was looking forward to curling up under the blankets on her bed and sleeping the evening away.

Grimes had started to ask her about Mary, but decided that they had done enough sharing for the evening. It had been and eventful day full of stress, and the sharing of feelings. A new yet tenuous friendship had started, and Grimes smiled at that. The atmosphere around them seem to lighten and become just a bit warmer. They had crossed the line from detective and witness to friends going out for dinner and he liked they way this new dynamic felt. It was strange, yet welcome and he couldn't help but sport a slight smile as he eased the car back out on the snowy street and continued toward the restaurant.

The last ten minutes of the trip was spent in silence, but it hadn't been an uncomfortable one for Grimes at least. In fact he felt like a weight had lifted off his shoulders. It was as if some of the self-doubt that he had been feeling has disappeared and now he felt confident, and what he could only describe as content.

When they parked, Grimes exited the car and hurried to the passenger door. He opened it and extended his hand to help her out onto the snowy parking lot. After closing and locking the door and bent his elbow, extend to her.

"Shall we?"

Joan glanced towards the restaurant as Grimes pulled into the parking lot. It was a little run down, nothing terribly fancy, a little like Grimes himself. She watched as he got out of the car and hurried around to her side of the car, opening the door and then offering her his hand. Taking his warm hand, she stood from the car, looking up at him as she was suddenly offered his elbow to hold.

She slipped her gloved hand through his elbow and let him guide her towards the front door. It felt a little strange to put so much trust in this man, but she couldn't deny that the voices had all but stopped the moment they made contact with one another. She felt safe in the knowledge that he would protect her from anything that came her way.

"So, what's good to eat here?" She asked him as the front door jingled as he pulled it open, a cheerful bell above their heads dangling as they stepped into the warm room and were instantly assaulted with the smells of garlic, fresh bread, and tomatoes.

"Everything's good here." Grimes replied with a smile. "The pasta, the veal, antipasto, I have had most of it and have never left here hungry or disappointed."

Trevor led them to a small table in a back corner of the restaurant. There were only a few other couples here for dinner, but that was likely due to the condition of the roads. Trevor had stopped here on numerous nights when the noise of large families engrossed in conversation was almost deafening.

When they reached the table, Trevor pulled one of the chairs from the table and nodded for her to sit. When she was seated he thought about asking if he could take her coat, but decided against it. This was relatively new to him, being this way with anyone, so he was feeling a bit out of sorts on how to act. He thought about the irony of hoping that they could become friends, but remembering it being easier to know what to do when they were just cop and witness.

He sat next to her and took a deep, cleansing breath trying to regain his composure. They had just been seated when a young woman showed up to the table passing out menus and asking if she could get them something to drink.

"Sweet tea for me please." he said as he grabbed the menu.

Once she was seated, she started the slow and methodical process of taking off her winter weather gear. Her gloves, her scarf, her hat were all placed on the seat next to her with her leather satchel. Then her coat was pulled off and draped along the back of her chair. When she was comfortable, she glanced up at the waitress as a menu was placed on the table in front of her and her drink order was asked for.

"A Coke, please." She murmured softly, that shy demeanor coming over her in front of this stranger before the woman turned to disappear. "It's fairly quiet here. I like it."

She could see the nerves that Grimes was trying so hard to hide. She wondered what was making him so nervous. Perhaps the talk that they had in the car was making him nervous. She hoped that they hadn't ruined something by bringing up a painful part of their lives.

"You know when you go back to work that Derrick will probably make your investigation difficult." She commented softly, already making her mind up that she was going to get the spaghetti with meatballs. "He hates me. He doesn't want me involved at all."

Grimes smiled a bit at this. "I can handle Simmons." Trevor remarked matter-of-factly. "He thinks he is more important than he is. While I may not ever make employee of the month, I am a closer, I solve cases. That means a lot in the department. He will tread carefully when it comes to the investigation."

Grimes' smile broadened at the thought of Simmons' frustration. He had dealt with that fucker many times and schooled him on several occasions on how to work an investigation. This time would be n different, even if Joan was involved. Trevor looked at her for a moment, his smile leaving and his face becoming serious again.

"Joan, if he contacts you or comes near you again though, I want you to call me. Day or night, no matter what time it is, you contact me and I will take care of it."