"At least his place was probably cleaner." Robin tries not to think of the pervasively sticky texture that's on the back of her arms and the many culprits that could have caused it. The shower beckons but Steve gives her this weirdly serious look that freezes her in place and her stomach feels sour all over again.

He's had a month. A whole month. Robin swallows tightly wondering what scares her more; Steve still having feelings or Steve, when sober, being repulsed by who she is.

"Tammy Thompson," she says, looking at the empty space just left of Steve, not quite in his eyes. "We talked about Tammy Thompson."