Ezra hesitated a moment before moving himself away from Marta. He didn't want to be touched at the moment. He didn't feel like he deserved any form of kindness, especially from her. Deep down she probably hated him for covering her mouth and at the moment he hated himself. He was sure if Jeremiah knew what he did then they'd both be kicked out and left on the streets or back at the home where Atalia's screams would linger. He looked over at Marta with a sadness that seemed like it would forever be carved onto his face.

"I can't have you touch me like that. I don't want to feel your love. I want to hate myself for what I did. I should have protected her. If she hadn't come over or if I hadn't talked her into staying she'd be alive and well. Instead she's probably being tortured just like her father was. I could see it in her eyes Marta. She knew I'd never see her again. It was like this was her parting gift to us and I can't help but hate myself. How am I better than Oscar? Just because I'm not the one who physically handed her over...I still allowed her to be taken," Ezra said as he heard Jeremiah's muffled voice in the background. 

Classical music was playing, it tended to ease Ezra's soul. Jeremiah was the one who taught him about music therapy, but tonight it seemed to make things worse. He turned his face away from Marta and stared blankly ahead. After a moment he stood up and the movement alone made his body shake with pain but sitting still wasn't an option. He grabbed the blankets that were sitting on the shelf and began to lay them out on the floor as best as he could. He wanted to sleep forever.

"If I lay down and close my eyes do I even deserve to wake up, Marta?" He asked holding onto the pillow like it was his only form of oxygen.

Jeremiah came back to the living room then and gently touched Ezra's shoulder. "Son, you shouldn't be standing anymore. You need to sit and rest. Your tender to the touch. Lift your shirt and let me see your body."

Ezra dropped the pillow to the floor and unbuttoned the shirt he had on. His torso was a giant bruise from all the movement and he heard the older man sigh and say a small prayer. His necklace was cold against his chest, and when Jeremiah gently touched his body he bit his lip and fell to his knees breathing hard. 

"No more movement for the next three days, Ezra. I mean it. You will be staying in the guest room not here. The blankets you were just handling are in case the room gets cold. I will bathe you unless you'd rather Marta do it. We will bring you whatever it is you need and I have my people looking into Atalia. Do not ask questions, if you don't want to know the answers," Jeremiah said lifting Ezra up and sitting him back on the couch. "The bed in the guest room is big enough to fit you both, I just ask you keep it down in there. Marta, do you want to bring him up, while I grab the bags?"