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Story Notes:
This is a work in progress, so do not expect  immediate updates. I considered for a long time before writing a third installment to this story. I hope all my fans enjoy.

Six, seven, no eight, there were eight stripes on the floor from left to right, but then there was a half or more under the chair, so… Regina tried to keep her attention on something stupid otherwise she might have lost it. She tried to sit still but her knee kept bouncing up and down. She kept counting the tiles on the floor, the broken verses the whole, the brown flecks versus the blue, anything, anything to take that picture out of her head.

            Marshall, on the floor, leaning up against the bathtub, head lolling to one side, sliced wrists. Pools of blood under each hand, coating the floor.  Most of that blood was all over her clothes right now. Those damn eyes, barely open, empty and full at the same time. Empty of life and full of regret. She swallowed hard.

            “Reggie, come on, you need to go get some rest.” Bizarre touched her shoulder as he spoke to her. She didn’t speak, merely shook her head no and went back to counting the breaks in the tile.

            “Yes, now, come on, I’m not taking no for an answer.” Regina looked up when she noticed the voice of AJ. He’d come all the way out here.

            “He’s going to live, we all heard that hours ago. You need to take care of yourself for a while. Let’s go,” AJ repeated, holding his hand out to Regina. She looked at him stiffly and as if she’d needed oil to loosen her joints, she stood and took his hand.

            “We’ll take care of her Dre, her mom is on her way out.” Nick said to Dre, sitting on Regina’s other side. He let out a long sigh.

            “All right. Thanks man.”

            “Come on darling,” AJ said gently shepherding Regina out of the waiting room. She followed AJ in a fog, not looking anywhere but at the doors at the end of the hall.

            “We’ll take you back to our place, you can get cleaned up and get something to eat.” She heard Nick speaking as though far away but didn’t respond. She couldn’t, everything was a blur.

            She was glad that their hotel was not the one she had been staying in. She did not want to go back to that room.

            “I’ll get you some of my clothes for now, we’ll get your stuff tomorrow,” AJ said as they entered the room. She could not even nod, she didn’t care.

            “Regina, come on sweetie, you need to get cleaned up.” Nick gently pushed her towards the bathroom and pulled her inside. She sat down on the counter and Nick took a washcloth to clean off the blood on her face and neck.

            “Age, could you grab me another towel!” Nick called to AJ as he put down the washcloth. Regina saw the red stained cloth and it was too much. She fell on her knees and barely made it to the toilet before she vomited. Her fingers clung to the edges of the porcelain as her stomach violently convulsed.

            “All right, all right, come on.” Nick said, pulling her hair into a ponytail and rubbing her back.

            “What’s the matter?” AJ asked, peeking into the bathroom.

            “She just got sick.”

            “I’m fine, really, I’m fine.” Regina said, lifting her head slightly and sniffing.

            “I’m fine.” She flushed the toilet and stood.

            “I’m just gonna take a shower, okay?”

            “All right, I’ll get you some clothes to change into. We’ll get your other stuff later.” Nick said, reaching over to turn the shower on for her.

            “Thanks.”

            “If you need anything thing, just give us a call, okay?” Regina nodded and turned toward the sink.

            “Okay,” Nick nodded and closed the bathroom door behind him.

            Regina sat on the counter and took a long sigh, looking down at her bloodied clothes. So this was how Marshall wanted to end things. He hated her that much. He hated himself that much. He hated life that much, how could she have not understood that? How could she have not seen it?

            She stood up and turned to face herself in the mirror. The blood had dried stiffly on her shirt and jeans. Slowly she shed the clothes and stepped into the shower, watching as Marshall’s blood raced down the drain.