Snapping back to reality, she looked up to see him walk over to the living room. When he sat down on the couch, a part of her heart ached at how distant she was being. "It's not..." she whispered, her voice starting to fade out at the end as she mouth '<span style="font-style: italic">you're fault</span>'. Shaking her head, she stayed there a while, watching him till she heard the small pitter patter of feet. Emma had descended the stairs in little time and she watched her clamber down the stairs so eagerly, only to play in the living room.<br/><br/>As her eyes fell over the child, Brena felt her will work up in her and she stepped forward. "I didn't mean to be so rude, moments ago." She explained, frowning as she stepped over to him. She didn't sit, but rather stood before him, looking over Jerry. "I... uh... How's your wound?" she asked, for a new start of subject. She'd have to work her way back into talking to him. She couldn't just jump right in, but most certainly she was trying, she really was. She was just... in withdraws of loneliness and the spiral and distrust that had so hardily clung to her back like some kind of evil flying monkey.<span style="font-style: italic">Great! Brena, totally not time for the Wizard of Oz reference.</span>She scoffed at herself, looking away, "I'm sorry, that was.... stupid, you're probably not alright. Um... Are you... Planning on staying here?" she asked, motioning towards the whole house.