Gwen’s hand stroked Sara’s brown hair absently. Gently. A silent prayer a litany in her mind as her eyes connected with the tortured brown of her husband’s across the crowded waiting room. Every face she recognized. Family. Friends. Waiting as time seemed to drag and become infinite. A nurse glared at T.C., angered at his blatant refusal to follow hospital rules as he pleaded with his daughters to be careful, to turn back, get off the icy roads. At least wait until morning light. Gwen didn’t have to hear Simone and Whitney’s side of the cell phone conversation to know they would listen to their father’s wishes, but they would not follow them. Eve had her arm around Grace. Not bothering to offer comforting words because no words offered comfort here. Now. None. Kay was in an OR, clinging to life while MJ clung to Miguel as his lifeline.

It was MJ’s resolute refusal to stay behind that prompted Gwen to pack up the children and follow Hank and Grace to the hospital. A foolish decision maybe, but the only decision she could make. No matter how angry it’d made Hank. He still hadn’t completely forgiven her for putting herself and the children in a potentially dangerous position, but she knew he understood it. She watched him rub his hand over Jake’s brown spikes, and she felt a lump rising in her throat when Jake wound his arms around Hank’s waist and tucked his dark head beneath his arm. For all his bravado and grown-up self-assurance, Jake was a little boy at heart. Totally and completely his dad’s little buddy, she thought with a smile. She felt tiny fingers pat her arm, and she struggled to keep her smile on her face as she ran a finger down Joshua’s silky cheek. “Mommy,” Emily whispered, clutching one of her cousin’s little hands in her own. “He has to go to the bathroom.”

Sara’s melancholy brown eyes blinked up at her from her lap, and Gwen patted her daughter’s cheek, preparing to get up, but Luis’s voice stopped her. “I’ll take him,” he said, scooping the toddler up into his strong arms. “Thanks,” Gwen murmured, watching Luis disappear down the hall toward the restrooms, little Joshua’s deep brown, knowing eyes watching her the entire time. Sara shifted, removing her head from Gwen’s lap and sitting up in her chair, scooting over to let Emily sit beside her. “How did you know he wanted to go to the bathroom?” she asked her sister, kicking her dangling, sneakered feet back and forth in the air. Emily shrugged her slim shoulders. “I dunno. I just did.” “Are you psycho, Emily?” Sara wondered. Gwen stopped short of scolding her young daughter when she realized it was a genuine mistake. She laughed softly as she corrected her. “I think you mean psychic, Sara. And I doubt very much Emily is. But she and Joshua ARE close, and she knows him.” “Oh,” Sara considered the possibility that her mom might be right. “Okay,” Sara muttered disappointedly a second later. Having a psychic sister would have been fun. “Look. There’s Sheridan,” she pointed.

Gwen’s brown eyes sought out the figure of her friend, finding her in Luis’s arms, trying and failing to hide her emotional response to Kay’s accident from the children. Emily slipped from her seat beside Sara and walked toward Joshua, taking his hand and leading him back to the small children’s table in the corner, generously handing him her colors and coloring book. Gwen opened her arms to Sheridan as Luis led her to the vacant seat beside her. Sheridan wiped the tears away from her blue eyes with shaky fingers, and she leaned into Gwen’s sisterly embrace gratefully. Sara watched them with great interest, knowing as only a child could that things with Kay were much worse than the grown-ups would tell her. Jake glanced over at them, and Gwen knew her son was wondering about Ali. Probably worrying about her being alone. He had a chance to voice his worry when he followed Hank to the row of chairs where they sat.

Hank shoved his hands through his brown hair nervously, his brown eyes never straying from his brother’s haggard face, and his words were slow and careful as he spoke, “Jess is coming in on the first flight she can get out. Has anybody called Tink? Kay would want Abby here...” he trailed off. “I’ll do it,” Gwen offered. “Sheridan, would you mind…” Jake slumped in the seat beside Sheridan. “I bet MJ wishes he’d been a lot nicer to her the last time he saw her,” Jake muttered. “If that was my mom in there…” Sheridan’s gaze drifted to MJ’s stricken face. Sara’s brown eyes were wide and serious as she agreed with her brother. Sheridan’s smile was sad as she reassured both children that Kay knew MJ loved her no matter what, and he didn’t have to worry about that. “I’m still going to be good for my mom from now on,” Sara vowed, and Sheridan’s smile started to reach her eyes. Sweet sentiments, but these WERE the children of Hank Bennett she was looking at. Jake’s grin was lopsided as he looked at his sister out of the corner of his brown eyes, and Sheridan laughed softly as she leaned forward on impulse and kissed the lovable clone’s forehead. Then that of his sister. Her blue eyes twinkled at the children’s twin gestures of wiping the unwanted kisses away, but deep down she knew…it was all an act.

Abby stretched, her feet pushing the tangled covers at her feet further down. Some distant noise drawing her out of her deep sleep. Her arm swept across the cool sheets. What the…Hazel eyes blinked open and stared down at her own hand, clenching midnight-colored sheets. Midnight-colored sheets? What the hell! Sheets, period! If memory served her correct, she’d fallen asleep on the couch with a blanket covering her. And…where was her damn robe? The gray sweatshirt’s sleeves kept falling down her arms, making her hands disappear, and she looked to the foot of the bed where the rest of the bedding remained. Goosebumps pebbled her flesh as she registered the sensation of the cool air on her bare legs, and she sat upright with a groan.

This wasn’t her room. She wasn’t wearing her clothes. And she was in someone else’s bed with no memory of how she got there. Nick’s bed. “Dammit all to hell,” she swore. Leave it her to sleep through all the good stuff. She wanted to be awake when her favorite doctor undressed her. Hell. She wanted that moment to be tattooed on the man’s eyelids so he could never forget it. Looked like that wasn’t happening. Where was he anyway, she wondered. Obviously she had been out of it or he wouldn’t have taken the initiative and put her in here. Would it have killed the man to have taken advantage of her just the tiniest bit? Not even that really. Was the idea of holding her THAT bad, she wondered, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and placing them on the floor. She didn’t know if she were more pissed with the probability that he hadn’t been tempted to do anything or that he HAD been. Could she be more screwed up?

She padded out of the bedroom, unfazed to find him on the sofa in the living room, his handsome face lit by the flickering images of the television. His stricken expression, however, DID surprise her, and when he looked up at her with sympathy-filled gray eyes and ended the telephone conversation in a hushed voice, she started to feel an unexplainable feeling of sickness and dread spread through her consciousness. Nick’s hand fumbled for her own, and her fingers felt clammy against his warmth as he squeezed them gently. Was it Ali? “Nick…” Her hazel eyes searched his face, his intense gray eyes, as he stood up and cupped his palms around her face. Okay. The sneaking suspicion of a nightmarish twist coming was completely ruining the effect of fantasy number 9 coming true. Her heart thudded somewhere in the vicinity of her throat as his thumbs caressed her lips, and he looked at her with that expression she’d never seen before but always hoped to see…like all he saw was her. “It’s Kay. She was in an accident, and Gwen said it isn’t looking good.” Abby’s mouth hung open in astonishment, and all she felt was numbness as Nick drew her into his arms, holding her up and holding her tightly.

Chapter 41

“Hey, Doc! You look like hell!” “Right back at you, George,” Abby muttered, none too kindly. On a normal day, George grated on her nerves. On a day like today…two days after Kay’s accident with her nerves strung high and fatigue and worry making it difficult for her to even see straight, Abby decided not to hold back her true feelings for George anymore and let her inner bitch out to play. Already George’s muddy brown eyes were narrowing at her in confusion, and Abby sent up a quick thanks to God that George had sense enough not to try to cop a feel in her current irate state. Usually the man was all over her. And necessity didn’t have a damn thing to do with it. George’s wheelchair was more a ploy to milk out every last drop of sympathy and compensation he could. Prop or not, it’d still look bad if she delivered a ‘real’ crippling blow to the groping bastard’s groin, and she’d been on her best behavior for weeks now. Today all bets were off. If he so much as leered at her, she’d…she’d…

“Well, maybe you don’t look like hell. Maybe a little tired. Something going on?” “Mind your own business, George,” she sighed, ‘helping’ him to the bars. “Come on,” George grinned, letting his arm hang just a tad too low on her shoulder and his hand wander. His breath reeked of tobacco. “I know you don’t really mean that…How about me and you go out for a drink? It’d loosen you up a bit…” Abby shoved his questing hand away and glared at him as menacingly as she could given his definite height advantage. “Not on your life, George. You’re nothing but a damn fraud who doesn’t know how to keep his disgusting hands to himself,” she snapped. “No more. Get yourself a new physical therapist,” she advised him, stalking out of the room. She didn’t worry one bit about leaving him alone. The jerk probably strutted back to his chair with one of those slimy grins he’d apparently patented on his face. Let him grin, she thought. He should be grinning. In relief. Thanks to much of her mind being elsewhere, he’d practically slipped beneath her radar. He was lucky she hadn’t beat the shit out of him. She DID know kung-fu, after all.

Eve pursed her lips as she watched Grace wring her hands tensely. The whole purpose of this quick lunch, if you could call it that given the fact they were in the hospital cafeteria, was to calm Grace’s nerves. To give her a chance to relax somewhat after two days of tireless vigil. “Grace,” Eve sighed, reaching out a hand to cover Grace’s restless ones. “Miguel and Simone are with her. Sam’s got the boys. They’ll be all right.” Grace made a conscious effort to still her hands in her lap, reaching out a second later to bring the cup of tepid tea to her lips. “I know,” she spoke softly. “I just can’t…I just wish she’d wake up, Eve. Why isn’t she waking up?” Eve’s silence disturbed Grace, and she lowered her head to her hands on the table, raking her fingers through her messy auburn hair. Then she straightened, sitting tall in her seat and forcing a bit of hopefulness into her voice. “She’s going to wake up,” Grace whispered. “She is, and then she’s going to laugh at all of us for being so worried about her. And she’s going to tease Jessica about dragging Faith and Myles to Harmony against their will…” Eve laughed softly. That sounded about right.

Grace fell into step beside Eve as they walked out of the cafeteria, and they made comforting small talk. Nurses and a couple of doctors Grace was vaguely familiar with stopped them to offer their condolences, and Grace felt a bitter taste rise up in the back of her throat. They were talking to her like Kay was already gone. They were talking to her like there was no more hope, and she had to believe there was. She had to believe hope existed everywhere. She had to, she reminded herself as she and Eve passed by the wing that led to the children’s cancer ward, and she was reminded of Ali. She glanced at Eve wordlessly, and Eve offered her a grim smile and a gentle squeeze to her hand. “She’ll come through. They both will. We can go visit her later if you’d like. Luis and Sheridan decided not to tell her about Kay yet so we’ll have to be real careful…” “Later,” Grace interrupted her with a nod of understanding. “Maybe there’ll be no need…”

“That’s a beautiful picture, Lissy,” Theresa smiled, crouching down beside the little girl’s chair. Lissy’s chocolate brown eyes were solemn as she tucked a loose strand of tawny hair back behind one ear and studied Theresa. Chad was across the Youth Center playing basketball with the boys. “Who’s it for?” “This one is for Ali telling her how much we miss her at school,” Lissy pointed to the brightly colored card in front of her. “We’re all going to sign it,” she informed Theresa, “and Jake’s going to take it to her. This one,” she pointed to another card beside her, “is for MJ and Joshua’s mom…” Theresa’s brown eyes misted over as she read the list of names scrawled in childish handwriting across the poster paper. Almost every child in the Youth Center had signed it already with a few more to go. She recognized Emily’s painstakingly penned signature and flashed a small smile at Gwen’s thoughtful little daughter. Sara’s letters were bolder, sloppier. And her eyes narrowed as she spotted a single letter M. “That’s Myles’s,” Faith told her, and Theresa jumped, startled to find Jessica’s strawberry locked daughter’s unnerving blue eyes staring at her. “He doesn’t know how to do the rest yet,” Faith explained, “and he wouldn’t let me finish it.”

Theresa laughed softly and winked at the little boy with the shy, dimpled smile. She had the strangest feeling that three-year-old Reese was in the room with her. Myles’s babyish cheeks blushed a bright pink, and Faith rolled her eyes at her little brother and sighed loudly. “What is it, Faith?” Theresa inquired, straightening up and gazing down at the child in consternation. “Nothing,” Faith muttered. “Do you know how long my mom’s going to be at the hospital? Why couldn’t me and Myles go with Grandpa and MJ and Joshua? I don’t like it here. It’s boring. The boys won’t let me play basketball with them, and Jake’s ignoring me. Everybody’s sad or ignoring me. I want to go home. To Chicago,” she emphasized. “And I hate daycare.” “Daycare?” Sara’s nose scrunched up in disgust. “This is daycare? I don’t like daycare either.” “Sara,” Theresa struggled to keep her waning patience intact. “This isn’t daycare. It’s…it’s…different. You’re just here until your mom gets off of work or your dad comes to get you.” Faith crossed her arms over her small chest and shared a look with Sara. “It’s daycare,” she repeated, making Theresa groan. She mouthed the word ‘HELP’ when she saw Whitney appear in the doorway.

The images on the newspaper before Ivy’s blue-green eyes blurred and her hand shook as it brought the coffee mug to her lips absently. She winced when it felt too hot to her touch, and her hand jerked the mug back reflexively, making steaming brown liquid slosh over the sides and stain the paper a dull brown. “Mother?” Ethan’s voice held a note of concern. “Are you okay?” Ivy looked up into her son’s blue eyes so like his father’s and offered him a reassuring smile before looking back at the short article below. “I was thinking, Mother…” Ethan began, pausing to take a seat across from her. “Yes, Ethan?” Ivy murmured, studying Kay’s solemn image and searching unconsciously for any similarities, any shared features between her and her own son. “Mother,” Ethan repeated. His voice stronger as his hand reached out to cover her own. “Sheridan told me they’re only letting immediate family in to see her, but I was thinking, Mother, that we should go to the hospital and let them know that we’re thinking of her, too.” And Dr. Russell’s own daughter Simone, Ivy wondered silently. Was she family? Did she have anymore right than Eth…She shook her head of such thoughts. Too much time had passed. Too many lives at stake to selfishly ‘right’ a past mistake now. What good would it do except cause more pain, she reasoned. “I think that would be nice,” she finally spoke. When it looked like Ethan was on the verge of worrying about her once more. “Why don’t you see if Beth wants to come?”

Hank watched Jessica and Simone embrace, their tears mingling, with a terrible lump blocking his throat. He ran his hands through his disheveled dark hair repeatedly, fighting for some semblance of control. Morning and afternoon of three days had passed, and nothing. NOTHING. This was bullshit! He was getting angry. This was such a Kay thing to do. Make them suffer while she put a big one over on them. But it wasn’t funny this time. It was so far from funny…he wanted to put his fist through the plaster and concrete, without a care to the pain he knew that action would bring. His fist clenched at his side, and he was all set to do it when he felt a calming, cool hand on his arm and her breath against his neck as she wrapped her arms around him from behind and pressed her forehead against his temple. “Don’t do it, Bennett. Don’t…” she cried, her lips brushing along his jawline. And the anger started to seep away, replaced by sadness. But not resignation. Not yet. “It isn’t fair, Babe. She had…she has everything going for her…Joshua was supposed to have his surgery a couple days ago…he’s never known her voice…he might never…and MJ…it isn’t fair…God, this is going to kill Sam…” Gwen wrapped her arms around his waist tighter and buried her tear-streaked face deeper into the crook of his neck. “I know, Bennett. I know.” “I got…I got to get out of here,” Hank cried, pushing himself away from the wall and squeezing his wife’s hand. His reddened brown eyes looked up to find puffy-rimmed hazel, and Gwen stepped back, biting her lip to keep back her own sobs as Hank pulled Abby’s sobbing form against him hard and tucked her securely in his arms. “Damn her for making me cry,” Abby swore, clutching fistfuls of Hank’s sweater in her hands. “Damn her…”

Eve swiped her fingers across her cheeks carelessly, almost embarrassed by her display of emotion as she hugged her own daughter tighter. Almost ashamed by her relief. Grace’s daughter instead of hers. Her best friend’s daughter. T.C’s best friend’s daughter. Simone sniffled against her shoulder, and Eve knew her make-up was going to ruin her white lab coat. But she didn’t care. She didn’t care because God had granted her a miracle and delivered both of her daughters back to her that night. Safe and sound when He hadn’t been so kind to Grace and Sam. Guilt and relief warred within her heart, and she couldn’t tell which emotion she felt most strongly as she watched them. A family in grief for something that seemed more inevitable by the passing hour. She wondered why Jessica wasn’t inside with the rest of them. She hoped in her heart of hearts that there still was hope, and what she feared was occurring inside a hospital room just feet away was NOT. She hoped in the face of dwindling hope as her dark eyes noted the appearances of a rising number of appearing faces. Pilar and Theresa and Luis ready to present a united front for Miguel. Sheridan rocking Cristian in a corner, crooning to him with his enormous, sad brown eyes. Chad seated beside them, his dark eyes speaking to her across the room. Her mind drifted to the rest of the children, and she was glad she didn’t have to witness the same awful mix of awareness/confusion creep into their innocent little faces. Eyes. She didn’t know if she could bear that…

Sam closed his eyes at the slight pressure of the doctor’s hand on his shoulder before he walked out. He closed his ears to Grace’s soft cries as she stroked Kay’s black hair from her face and whispered to her quietly. All the while holding Kay’s hand to her heart. He didn’t want to remember the pain in Jessica’s blue eyes earlier as the doctor crushed the last vestiges of their hope. He didn’t place any blame on his youngest daughter for not being able to stay. After the tubes and wires were removed. After the ventilator was shut off. Surviving the accident had been one miracle. Making it through surgery had been another. Hanging on after this evening’s cardiac arrest was his daughter’s iron determination to give them all a chance to say their goodbyes. Sam walked up to his wife, his daughter, and wrapped a supporting arm around Grace’s shoulders as his fingers reached out to brush Kay’s pale cheek. “Oh, Sam,” Grace sobbed, crumpling against his side as Joshua tugged on his mother’s still arm. Grace cradled Joshua against her chest after he’d pressed a baby-sweet kiss to Kay’s cool cheek, rising with difficulty from her chair and walking away. Unable to meet Miguel and MJ’s tortured dark eyes. Sam stroked the back of Kay’s hand, cupping it around his cheek and kissing her palm. A father doing the one thing he never wanted to do. “Nobody ever made me prouder,” he whispered, his lips moving gently across her dark brow in a final kiss. “I love you,” he breathed, pushing himself to his feet and shuffling toward the door. Leaving two yet to cry any tears. He closed the door behind him, grabbing Grace and Joshua close and reaching for Jessica. And then he heard it…MJ’s anguished screams.

Martin blinked, his eyes adjusting to the darkness and his hands fumbling for the overhead light as Ali’s sleepy voice broke the silence he’d grown accustomed to in the last hour. “Grandpa Martin.” “Yes,” he said softly, brushing Ali’s pale hair from her face and comforting himself by watching the steady rise and fall of her tiny chest. “I had a dream,” she told him, rubbing at her blue eyes with her fists. “Tell me about it,” he encouraged, taking her small hand between his own and stroking her tiny fingers, lulling her and soothing her in case the dream had been a bad one. “Who was in your dream, Lass?” Ali’s eyelids drooped heavily as she told him. “Pooh…” a lost teddy bear Luis’d told him she’d carried everywhere in the months following her mother’s disappearance. “Mr. Ribbitt…” the frog? He smiled fondly at her in the dim light. “You dreamed about Mr. Ribbitt?” “Uh huh,” she sighed, the corners of her sweet mouth crinkling up at his amusement. “And he was all better…” “Who else?” he asked, kissing her little fingertips and cupping her hand around his cheek. “Nana Katherine…” Martin’s brow rose in surprise. But not total surprise. Even dead, Katherine was a big part of her daughter and granddaughter’s lives. Sheridan and Pilar had made certain of that. “Nana Katherine’s so pretty, Grandpa Martin…” Ali sighed. “Like Mommy…” “That she was,” Martin agreed softly. “She was there with Uncle Julian, and she was smiling and saying I had a new guardian angel, Grandpa Martin…” Martin felt his heart clench inside his chest with awareness, and a little bit of sadness crept into his voice as he spoke. “Another one? You’re a lucky girl. A lucky girl indeed. Wh…Who?” Ali’s golden lashes fluttered against her cheeks, and her hand went lax against his cheek. “Aunt Kay’s new dress is pretty,” Ali breathed, sleep stealing over her once more.

Chapter 42

Martin’s thumb moved across the knuckles of his wife’s tightly clenched hand unconsciously as Father Lonagin’s steady voice filled the church. Somber candlelight bathed its interior in flickering shadows, obscuring Miguel’s face from view. By his side sat his two sons. Two little boys dressed in their Sunday best to say goodbye to their mother. Joshua was awarded the ignorance of the very young while MJ stared fixedly at his feet, as stone-faced as his father. Martin lifted his eyes, directing his gaze to where Kay lay, and he thought back to his first meeting of the girl…the first time he lay eyes on his young grandson…Miguel’s proud introduction and the happiness in all of them…

*@*@*"There's someone I want you to meet, Papa," he said. Stepping back. Putting his arm around a pretty dark-haired young woman. A small child nestled in her arms. "Papa, this is Kay. My wife." He brought her hand to his lips with a smile. Delighting in her soft laughter. "And this," Miguel said, taking the small bundle from her, "is my son. MJ. He's named after you."

He looked to Miguel in surprise. Then back to the tiny infant. Arms waving back and forth. Curious dark eyes studying him intently. An impossibly huge smile tugging at the corners of his mouth once again. "Can I?" he asked. Holding his arms out. Miguel handed the child over to him. Running an affectionate hand over the baby's downy dark head before stepping back. Allowing grandfather and grandson to get acquainted.

"Hello there, wee one. I'm your grandpa. The old man you're named after," he said in jest. Earning a smile from MJ. Then laughter. "He thinks you're funny, Grandpa Martin," Ali giggled. He looked at her in surprise. Getting used to being called Grandpa was something he was looking forward to. Very much. He just smiled at her before gazing into his wife's dark eyes. He had so much to look forward to. There were still many questions to be asked, and so many answers. But those would wait. Right now, he wanted to enjoy this moment. To the fullest. *@*@*

It seemed like it were just yesterday he was welcomed back into his family’s fold, and he came to know each and every one of them better than ever before. Just like yesterday, and not enough time. There would never be enough time on this earth for him to love them as he wanted, and he hated that his young namesake and Joshua were being cheated out of something so special. He felt Pilar’s fingers tighten around his own, and he squeezed them back reassuringly. Willing some of her hurt and anxiety to dissipate and wanting to unburden her. It was all he could do.

Tears made Ivy’s throat constrict as Grace’s trembling voice spoke so lovingly of her daughter. The tissue crumpled in her fist as her gaze drifted to Sam’s broken figure, his shoulders hunched and shaking slightly. Jessica’s forehead rest against his shoulder like that of a little girl, and Ivy’s blue-green eyes followed the line of the strong hand that gripped the back of Sam’s neck up a muscled arm to broad shoulders. Shying away from his piercing gaze. Eyes startling in color, vivid and so like Sam’s she felt herself—her body and her mind—being transported back to another time and place so many years ago.

She shook her head slightly to ward off the memories, forcing her focus back on Grace. She was saying something about adulthood strengthening her and Kay’s relationship, about the regret that it hadn’t happened sooner. Ivy knew all about regrets. Her life had been etched with regret for as long as she could remember, she mused. Thinking back to a time when she had to accept the painful truth that sometimes easing those regrets wasn’t the best thing to do for others. Ali was missing…families were pulling together…and she was faced once again with the reality of her past decisions…

*@*@*“What’s going on here?” Chad asked as they walked back inside. And saw Hank in a frenzied state by Gwen’s side. “Nothing,” Gwen bit out. “ Just the baby kicking up a storm,” she lied. Wincing. Off Theresa’s look of concern she continued. “Really. It’s nothing serious. Jake kicked me black and blue when I carried him. I have to admit, Theresa,” she laughed nervously. “I thought I’d never see the day when you were worried about ME,” she finished. Moaning softly. “Damn. Bennett! This kid of yours would make a great soccer player.”

“Haha, Babe. Funny,” Hank said humorously. “Quit lying. I can read you like an open book. Pilar? Would you call the hospital and tell them we’re coming in?” “Yes, Hank,” she answered. Picking up the phone and dialing the number. “Kay?” “Don’t worry, Uncle Hank. I’ll watch Jake for you. Now go. Get Gwen to the hospital and have her and the baby checked out. All this stress can’t be good for either of them.” “Thank you,” Hank said. Grinning slightly. “Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite niece?” he said. Kissing her forehead in goodbye. “Oh…once or twice,” she smirked. Squeezing Gwen’s hand reassuringly as she walked past.

“Call us,” Gwen called over her shoulder as they walked out the door. “Call us if there’s any news about Ali.” “We will,” Grace smiled. Answering for them all. The minute she heard the car crank, though, the smile on her face faltered. “I hope Gwen’s right. And it’s nothing serious. I can’t bear to think of this endless night getting any worse. Kay, honey. Do you mind if I go check on MJ? I need to…I need to see him.” “I’ll go with you,” Kay said softly. Linking her arms through her mother’s.

Ivy watched them go. Seeing the love they had for each other. And realizing she didn’t want to break that up. Not anymore. They were a family. Ethan and his brother and sisters and Sheridan were hers. That’s the way it would always be. She sighed. Getting to her feet. Pacing restlessly. “Mother,” Ethan said gently. Placing his hands on her shoulders and forcing her to stop. “Mother,” he said pointedly. “Wearing a hole in Sheridan and Luis’s carpet is not going to help matters any.” “Oh, Ethan,” she said. Cupping his cheek. “I can’t sit still. Why haven’t we heard anything yet? Luis and Sam should have found out by now.” *@*@*

Giving and taking comfort from each other. That’s what loved ones did best. What family, in its purest intention, should do best, Ivy thought with a shaky sigh as she felt Ethan’s gentle hand on her arm. She smiled tearfully at him, removing his hand from her arm and enfolding it in her own to bring their interlinked fingers to her cheek. She held on tightly to her son’s hand as Sam rose on unsteady feet and walked to the front of the church. Families loved and hated and laughed and cried and clung and pushed each other away, but through it all, they stood the test of time. Even if it sometimes seemed like it would kill them.

For once, it wasn’t hard to stay quiet or be still. For Jake, it was actually the easiest thing to do as his brown eyes roamed around. He couldn’t look at the grown-ups. Their tears and sad, unseeing eyes made his chest hurt something awful, and his breath wanted to hitch in his throat painfully. So he didn’t look at them. He scanned his surroundings, grateful that he could count the number of times he’d actually been in them on one hand. Just past Jessica and Noah (why was it some grown-ups only came home for funerals? Or weddings?), a tall monument of a headstone stood. Ancient dates engraved into its surface.

Jake’s young mind calculated the time that had passed between the two dates easily, and he felt a stab of fright in his valiant young heart, his brown eyes belying an older age as they focused on his scuffed dress shoes. He felt like he had something in his eye, maybe dirt, he thought as he swiped at his eyes silently. He glanced at his little sisters, holding hands, out of the corner of his misty dark eyes. A little kid’s grave. A little kid not much older than Sara and Emily, closer to Ali’s age. A little kid who maybe had an older brother like him that picked on her and teased her and never told her how much he really did love her because stuff like that was too mushy.

He wondered if that was how Jessica felt. He wondered if Noah wished he had been around more. He wondered why people had to die in the first place and make everyone all sad. He hated being all sad, and already he missed Kay. Missed her and her annoying teasing more than he would ever admit. He wondered a lot of things, but he didn’t dare ask as he fumbled for his dad’s gloved hand, keeping his eyes downcast. Father Lonagin’s voice was a whisper against the cold bluster of wind and tears.

Joshua cried as the car crept along the road, back to his grandparents’ house, and Luis knew it was already beginning. The ache that came with missing someone you never thought you’d lose. Ali had been younger when Sheridan ‘died’, but her tears hadn’t been any less. They kept him awake at night, made him want to curse the injustice of it all. Luis knew better perhaps than anyone what his brother and children would go through, suffer in the following months. Luis knew the future ahead would seem like nothing but a struggle, especially in the beginning. Birthdays, special anniversaries would come and go, despite their unbearable reminders of a different past, a happier past. Time would pass and meaning would slowly seep back into the everyday things and the wounds in their hearts would patch themselves up but never fully heal. Luis knew better than anyone, and it was tearing him up inside to have to stand on the sidelines and watch Miguel relive his very own nightmare.

Simone moved around the Bennett house in a fog. She felt a void in her heart. A black hole that hadn’t existed before, not even during her and Kay’s adolescent squabbles and petty disagreements when they purposefully cut themselves off from each other. Back then, she’d felt like a part of her was missing, if only for a day. Like a limb that was no longer a part of her body, but still ached anyway. She still felt Kay then. They still had that connection. But now…now she wasn’t so sure. Friendship transcended many things, but she wondered if the same still held true with Heaven and Hell. She wanted to feel the connection, but she was having a hard time feeling anything past her own blinding hurt. Even her sister’s soothing embrace amidst the quiet devastation and turmoil.

Slowly and surely, their numbers had dwindled, Abby thought as she let herself into her apartment. One by one they had scattered, leaving the wounded to their own defenses, however reluctantly. Memories replayed in her mind, a continuous replay of every word, every confidence shared. She raked her fingers through her tawny hair, shaking all the pins free and letting it tumble past her shoulders as she walked toward the kitchen. Her hazel eyes darted to the kitchen table, almost expecting to see Kay smirking back at her. But finding no one. Her hand shook--cold had seeped deep into her bones earlier in the day and wouldn’t leave her--as she removed a half-empty bottle of wine from the refrigerator and set it on the kitchen counter while she searched for a glass. She found one, and all the anger and frustration inside her bubbled over when wine sloshed over the sides of the glass, dripping onto the counter. The bottle shattered on the tile floor, making a horrible crash. She bent to pick up the shards of glass, exhaling air in a surprised gasp when she felt a hand close over her shoulder. The understanding in Nick’s gray eyes made her want to cry all the tears she’d refused to cry that afternoon, and she ducked her head as she hurried from the kitchen, shutting and locking the bathroom door behind her. Echoes of words she couldn’t take back ringing in her ears.

“Who says there’s going to be a next time?”

Nick deposited the last jagged pieces of the wine bottle into the trash and tossed the soiled rag into the sink before heading toward the bathroom. He raised a hesitant hand to the door but didn’t knock. He could hear her tears over the noise of the running water inside so he decided to give her a few more moments of privacy. He leaned back against the wall opposite the bathroom door and waited. Faint shuffling sounds reached his ears, and the sound of running water stopped just seconds before the door creaked open slowly, and he was met Abby’s questioning hazel eyes. Her voice was soft and slightly hoarse from her tears as she presented her back to him trustingly. “The zipper…it’s stuck…I can’t…”

His hands were steady though his blood rushed through his veins a little quicker as his knuckles brushed her bare skin, inching the zipper down and parting the black material, and she shivered beneath his hands. He sucked in a surprised breath when he discovered her absence of a bra, and his thumb caressed the edges of the brightly colored design resting at the small of her back fleetingly before his mind took over, his hands falling to his sides. Her hazel eyes burned into his own eyes when she turned around, and he forced his gaze from hers, afraid of what she might see in his eyes at that particular moment in time. A feeling he wasn’t willing to admit to yet. A feeling that wasn’t supposed to exist. Especially not now. He nodded his head in acceptance of her thanks and waited for the sound of her bedroom door closing before her stepped into his own room, some ridiculous notion making him leave it open in case she needed him.

He stripped his tee-shirt over his dark head, draping it across the chair at the foot of his bed. His fingers twisted the small knob on the lamp until the room was bathed in darkness, the only light the faint glow from the town streetlights outside as he pulled the covers back and crawled into the bed. He sat up quickly when Abby appeared in his doorway, arms wrapped tightly around her own body. Hazel eyes looked up at him in apology when he pushed himself to his feet and crossed the room to her, pulling her arms away and replacing them with his own. Her nose was cold against the warm skin of his chest, and she laughed softly as she leaned her head back to look up into his gray eyes. “I feel like Chilly Willy.” He smiled at her as he brushed her silky hair back from her face. “The cold won’t go away,” she told him, shuddering at that moment as if to prove her point.

He moved to the foot of the bed, grabbing the first thing he lay hands on and turned back to her. His faded gray sweatshirt. He hadn’t washed it since the last time she’d worn it, and her scent still clung to the material. He looked away uncomfortably as she slid the sleeves of the black dress from her arms and started tugging the material down her body, letting it pool around her bare feet. His eyes jerked back to hers as her fingers brushed against his, closing in on the sweatshirt in his hands. He turned his back on her as he crawled back into bed, strangely mesmerized by her reflection in the window as she slid the sweatshirt over her nude upper body. Some crazy impulse within made him speak out when she moved to leave the room and him, and he held the blankets open in invitation. The mattress shifted under her slight weight only a second later, and he wrapped his arms around her waist as tightly as he could without hurting her, pulling her back against him and sharing his warmth. Resting his head on the pillow beside her tawny one. He could hear the amusement in her voice as it left her throat in a near-hum, and his lips curved into a smile as he pressed them into the soft skin behind her ear. “Somehow this wasn’t what I expected when you finally invited me into your bed.”

Chapter 43

A child's giggles echoed in the hall before her, and Katie looked up, a smile on her face as she spotted Mr. Cristian Lopez-Fitzgerald himself. She lay the chart in her hands down in front of her and stepped around the corner of the nurse's desk, surprising Cristian so much he jumped at least two feet in the air before Theresa grabbed his little hand. "And what, may I ask," she paused, bending at the waist to tug his snowflake-covered hat off his dark head, "is so funny?" Cristian's enormous brown eyes flitted up to his aunt and then back to her, a smile on his face as he shrugged his small shoulders. "Nothing," he told her, laughing some more as she wagged her finger beneath his nose, her eyes drawn to the suspicious bulge beneath his jacket. "What you got in there? My Christmas present?" she teased. Cristian frowned. Slightly confused. "But Christmas."

"I'm just teasing ya, Silly," Katie laughed. "Really.what you got inside there?" "Nothing," Cristian repeated. Katie tugged her bottom lip between her teeth to prevent herself from laughing. Neither Ali nor Cristian were good liars. Their eyes gave them away every time. It was almost like 'I'm lying' was flashing boldly and brightly in Cristian's dark orbs. If the muffled meow that escaped at that precise moment, and the sight of the bulge actually moving weren't enough to crack Katie up, the utter panic on Cristian's face would have had her. Through sheer determination, she kept a straight face as she straightened up, ruffling Cristian's hair affectionately. "What are you waiting for? Shoo. Ali's been looking forward to seeing you all day."

The little boy's relief was so great it made her AND Theresa smile, and they watched him scramble down the hall and disappear into Ali's hospital room before turning to face one another again. Theresa's brown eyes were sparkling as she thanked her. "Just don't get caught," Katie advised with a small laugh. "Aren't you going in." "Actually," Theresa said slowly, "I thought I'd give them some time to themselves. He's missed them both so much this past week, and I didn't want to intrude." "That's very sweet of you," Katie said, giving Theresa a friendly smile. "I'm off in.," she glanced at the watch on her wrist, "about ten. You want to get some coffee or cocoa while they visit?" "I'd like that," Theresa answered. "I'll just wait over there," she nodded, indicating the cluster of chairs a few feet down the hall. "See you in ten," Katie told her, walking back around the desk to retrieve her charts.

"Mommy!" Cristian couldn't contain his excitement any longer. "Cristian," Ali scolded lightly as she watched her mommy stir in the bed next to hers. "You'll wake her up." Cristian's face fell, and his words were lost under his breath. His mumbled "I'm sorry" had Ali's blue eyes melting in apology, and she held her arm out for her little brother to come sit on the edge of her bed. Cristian wouldn't meet Ali's eyes as he crawled into the bed beside her, his mouth pouting. "Cristian," Ali encouraged him to look at her. "Cristian, it's okay. You didn't wake Mommy up. She's still asleep. I'm not mad at you." Cristian raised tearful brown eyes to Ali's face, whispering, "You're not?" "No," Ali smiled one of her magical smiles at him, and Cristian instantly felt better.

"I'm glad," he said solemnly after a few moments of silence, curling up beside her. "I love you, Ali," he said, squeezing her fiercely. Ali squeaked and giggled, squeezing her baby brother back just as tightly. "Me too." Her blue eyes grew wide she realized something really strange.Cristian's jacket was meowing pitifully. "Cristian." "Oh!" Cristian's voice rose in excitement once more. "Me and Aunt Theresa sneaked him in. Katie didn't even see him!" Ali giggled when Cristian unzipped his parka, and the gray and white kitten crawled out, pouncing immediately on her bunny. "He's attacking her ears! Gizmo!" Cristian cried, his brown eyes bright and sparkling with happiness. Ali moved one of the bunny's ears experimentally, giggling uncontrollably when the kitten pounced again. "Mommy!" she gasped in surprise when a quick glance beside her revealed her mommy was no longer asleep but awake and smiling.

"Mommy!" Cristian cried, scrambling off of Ali's bed and throwing his arms around Sheridan's waist before she even had a chance to stand up. Sheridan ran her hands over Cristian's soft dark hair lovingly then cupped his face between her palms and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Mommy, you were pretending," Cristian said with a grin. "So what if I were?" Sheridan teased her little son lightly. "Let me look at you," she said, and Cristian stepped back as she requested, a happy smile on his lips. "You're getting as tall as your daddy." "Mommy," Cristian rolled his eyes at her. Sheridan looked at Ali, and both of them erupted into laughter. "Look Mommy," Ali said, and Sheridan's blue eyes were smiling over the top of Cristian's dark head. Apparently, the kitten had already tuckered itself out, and now it curled into a tiny fuzzy ball in Ali's lap.

"You better not let Dr. Nick see him," Sheridan whispered, standing up and easing herself onto the edge of Ali's bed. The kitten purred but didn't move as she stroked it lightly with her fingers. "He won't," Ali rushed to assure her. "And how do you know he won't?" Sheridan said, a tad breathless from lifting Cristian up onto her lap. "Because," Ali offered in response. "Because?" Sheridan teased back, and Cristian parroted her, giggling when Ali's nose scrunched up in annoyance. "Because, because, because," Ali's playful retort only caused more laughter, and Sheridan clamped her hand over Cristian's mouth lest they get caught red-handed. "Because why?" Sheridan asked, blue eyes sparkling when Ali groaned in frustration. "He's not here," Ali huffed. "Where is he?" Sheridan inquired curiously. "I can't tell, Mommy. It's a secret for Abby," Ali explained in a rush. Then her mouth fell open in shock, and she hurried to cover her wide blue eyes with her hands. "Uh oh," she muttered a second later. "I wasn't supposed to tell."

Faith regarded the man curiously beneath her auburn lashes, kicking her feet against the foot of the bed. Something about him looked familiar. He reminded her of someone she'd met before, but she couldn't tell who exactly. She watched him lift another armful of clothes from his suitcase and put them in the dresser. She stopped kicking her feet when he turned to her with those funny-looking eyes and spoke to her for the first time. "Your name's Faith, right?" Her blue eyes sized him up again before she answered. "Uh huh, and this is my grandma's Bed and Breakfast." "It's nice," the man nodded his approval, shutting his suitcase and placing it in the closet. "It's okay," Faith assented, "but I like my own house better." She continued when the man didn't say anything, just stood beside the window and looked out. "Me and my brother.he's the midget downstairs with my mom," she explained, her eyebrows quirking up in confusion when the man just smiled at her broadly. "We want to go home, but my mom says we have to stay a while and make sure Grandma and Grandpa are okay. My aunt Kay died, you know. We had her funeral last week." "I'm sorry," the man spoke softly, and Faith was impressed. She could tell he was telling the truth. "Yeah.everybody's sad and everything. My aunt Kay was a lot of fun. Did you know her?"

"Faith!" Faith rolled her blue eyes at the exasperation in her mom's voice. She was bored. Why couldn't she talk to the cust.cust.the people? It just wasn't fair. "Faith.I told you not to talk the nice man's ear off." Faith huffed and hopped off the end of the man's bed, crossing her arms over her chest and looking up into his funny-looking eyes as she spoke. "He likes to hear me talk. Don't you, Mister?" Jessica sighed and moved further into the room, steering her precocious young daughter outside. Faith frowned and didn't even look up as she passed the other man with a face she vaguely recognized. "Mom," she whined. "No fair.we were in the middle of a very important conversation." "You were supposed to be watching your brother." "But Myles is a baby," Faith continued to whine. "My point," Jessica said pointedly. "He isn't big enough to take care of himself, and he needs you. Go downstairs. Now." "Fine," Faith said haughtily, at least pretending to follow her mom's orders. As soon as her mom went back inside the room with the two men though, Faith scrambled back up the stairs and around the hall corner, ears perked and listening.

"I'm sorry about.my daughter is a handful sometimes, Mr. Stone." Faith's brow furrowed at her mom's words. Was being a handful a good thing or a bad thing? "Don't apologize. She actually reminds me a bit of my sister when she was younger." Again, Faith's brow furrowed. This time in extreme concentration. Mr. Stone's sister? Who was she? Did she know her? Was she nice? Was she pretty? Was she smart? Did she know her, she wondered again. "Did your sister love to eavesdrop too?" Faith heard her mom say. Eavesdrop.She'd heard that word before. What did it mean? "All the time," she heard Mr. Stone respond, and it sounded like the other guy was laughing. What was so funny. She hated being the only one that didn't get the joke. "Is your room okay? Do you have everything you need?" Faith zoned out as she heard her mom ask those questions. Everyday. She heard her ask those same questions everyday. Boring! "The room's perfect. If I need anything, I'll let you know." Faith hurriedly ducked behind the corner when her mom left the room a few seconds later, wondering silently what was with the goofy smile on her face. Sometimes her mom was just too weird, she thought to herself, creeping along the wall so she could maybe sneak a peek inside.

"You didn't have to take this room," the man with the gray eyes told the other man, and the other man gave him a funny look. Almost like e was smiling, but not all the way. "You don't know my sister as well as I do. There's no one I love more in this world than that woman, but trust me.I'm much safer under a different roof. Besides.I wouldn't want you giving up your bed for a lumpy couch." Faith's mind wandered to the lumpy old mattress she and Myles had had to share their first night in Harmony. It was awful! "At the end of the day we both need our space. I don't want her thinking I'm smothering her.I'm glad you called me, Nick. May I call you Nick?" Faith worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she racked her young brain, trying to think of where she had heard that name before. "Nick's fine. Her friend died in a terrible accident, and I'm treating the daughter of another friend of hers for cancer. Things are really rough right now, and I thought she needed someone who knew how to comfort her better than me. She can't be tough all the time. I don't think she realizes that." "Abby realizes it, Nick. But that doesn't mean she's not going to fight against admitting it with everything in her being. Do you think she's home yet?" "Any minute now. Come on. I'll drive us both." Faith's blue eyes widened and she scurried from her hiding place, auburn curls flying behind her as she clattered down the stairs in a panicked rush. At the head of the stairs, the two men exchanged amused glances, and Shane muttered, "It's like déjà vu."

Chapter 44

Chad grimaced as he watched Miguel polish off another beer. This couldn't have been what Theresa had in mind when she'd asked him to check up on her little brother. Damn, but he didn't think Miguel had it in him. Neither did Reese, apparently. The other man had tried repeatedly to convince their friend that drowning his sorrows in alcohol was only going to be a temporary fix for the pain in his heart, but Miguel would have none of it. It didn't help matters that his own brother-in-law seemed to support Miguel's effort to achieve numbness wholeheartedly. In fact, Noah made sure there was always a new bottle to replace the empty one. Chad didn't know Noah Bennett very well, so he wasn't in a very good place to be judgmental. He could say he didn't like his attitude though.

Reese shifted uncomfortably in the stool beside him, and Chad's dark eyes sought out the smoke-filled corner of the bar and a petite figure quickly gathering a crowd of unwanted, curious stares. "I think she's worse off than Miguel," Reese muttered. "They're hurting, Man. They're hurting," Chad sighed, watching the burly man approach Abby near the jukebox and ask her to dance. She shot him down in two seconds flat, just like he'd expected. And just like he'd expected, the man didn't take too kindly to rejection, grasping Abby's arm and yanking her up against him hard. By the time he made it across the bar to rescue her, the man was already in a heap on the floor, curled into a fetal position to protect the family jewels. "No means no," Abby hissed after the man's prone figure as Chad dragged her back across the hazy room and pushed her into the stool beside Reese. Reese hurriedly excused himself, and Chad and Abby watched him disappear outside to phone Jessica.

Chad waved the bartender over, spoke to him in low tones while keeping one eye on Abby, then leaned back in his seat to stare at her. Abby's mouth quirked up at the corners in amusement, and Chad bit back a laugh when she stuck her tongue out at him. Several seconds later, the bartender set a steaming cup of coffee, strong and black, beneath Abby's nose. "Sober up," Chad ordered, nodding at the coffee. "I'm not drunk," Abby frowned, lifting the cup to her lips anyway. Chad's skeptical look wasn't unnoticed. Rather, Abby chose to ignore it. "I'm not drunk," she insisted. "Stop it with the 'I don't believe a damn word you're saying' look. If I were drunk.if I were completely wasted, Squeaky over there would be looking mighty damn fine." Chad grinned. 'Squeaky' was quite an appropriate moniker for the man. "Remind me never to piss you off. How'd you end up here anyway, Abby?" Abby glanced over at Miguel, miserable and hurting at the end of the bar, and her hazel eyes saddened then shied away as they connected momentarily with the intense blue stare of Noah Bennett. "Helping out a friend," she muttered into her cup. "I just thought I'd be around to help soften the crash when he re-enters the atmosphere. I owe her that much."

"Luis already has the emergency landing gear covered," Chad told her, placing a friendly hand on her arm as he stood up. Abby's hazel eyes sought out Luis's imposing but comforting form at the far end of the bar. "You called him?" Chad shook his head, picking up Abby's soft suede jacket and helping her put it on. "I called him," Reese answered, and Abby found herself smiling at the pair of concerned blue eyes hidden behind wire frame glasses. "It's your ass. Not mine. And not a bad-looking ass at that," Abby finished beneath her breath. Chad forced an expression of ignorance onto his face when Reese turned to him and asked him in a befuddled voice, "What did she say?" "Don't mind her. She's wasted, Man." "I am NOT," Abby grumbled indignantly. "I just have the tiniest buzz," she indicated with her thumb and forefinger. Chad chuckled, dropping his keys into Reese's open palm. "Make sure she gets home.Luis looks like he needs some help." "Don't look so scared," Abby laughed, grabbing Reese by the arm when moving so suddenly made the world go a little topsy-turvy. "I don't bite. Besides.you're cute, but you're not my type. Your brother-in-law's not my type either, but I can't say I'm not tempted to sink my teeth into that," she sighed, hazel eyes roving Noah's body in frank approval then growing wide as he rose from his chair and made his way toward them. "Um.strike that last comment from the record, will you?" Reese said nothing, just pulled at his too-tight collar and shifted his weight to his other foot. "You driving?" Noah asked. Reese nodded, practically pulling Abby out of the bar behind him.

Okay. So maybe she WAS three sheets to the wind. The entire drive to her apartment seemed to quite impossibly take both eons and the blink of an eye. Her brain was a bunch of mush, and the scent of men's cologne lingered in her nostrils, reducing her to a capsule of frustrated human hormones. So much testosterone in one night, and she still didn't have any hope of getting any relief soon. It was no longer clear to her whether she actually couldn't stand on her own two feet due to her state of intoxication, or she just wanted to feel a strong, attractive man's arms wrapped around her. Either way, she fell out of the car at Noah Bennett's feet and soon found herself enjoying quite a view of his denim-clad derriere as he carried her up the stairs instead of taking the elevator. She clung to him like vine as he set her down on her feet and knocked on her door. She wondered briefly how he knew which apartment was hers but realized she must have told him herself on the way up. "Do you work out?" she heard herself stupidly ask as she clutched his toned upper arms for support.

One dark blond brow simply raised, and those blue eyes regarded her with amusement. She had the fleeting notion to deliver a swift knee to his groin for laughing at her but decided against it when her apartment door was flung open, and she found herself eye to eye (or rather, nose to chest) with the object of her affections. "Dammit, but you ARE beautiful," she swore, slinging her arms around Nick's neck and practically climbing up his tensed body to bring her mouth close to his. Gray Eyes barely had time to react before she was kissing the living shit out of him and wrapping her entire being tighter around him. Her heart started to pound erratically in her chest when she felt Nick relax minimally and begin to respond to her, and her eyes flew open in amazement as she pulled away almost reluctantly, taking a moment to just stare at him as she attempted to catch her breath. Her hazel eyes darted from Nick's conflicted gray gaze to his full lips, her loud, insistent hormones drowning out the last of her reservations just seconds before she started closing the distance between their mouths again, and it was then that she heard it. The voice. The only voice a girl or woman loathed hearing more than her father's in the middle of a passionate or promising moment. The protective older brother's voice. She froze, mere millimeters from meeting Nick's lips again and shrieked.

"SHANE!"

Chapter 45

Nick stifled a groan as Abby slid down his painfully aware body, re- gathering enough of his wits to reach a hand out to steady her when she wobbled on unsure feet. He drew his hand back in surprise when she glanced at him in half-gratitude, half-annoyance. Her eyes.he found himself unable to look away from her eyes, pupils dilated and irises flecked with gold that he'd never noticed before. He dropped his hand to his side awkwardly when one corner of her mouth quirked up in a smirk, as if she knew some secret he didn't. But that was impossible because he couldn't even place or categorize the foreign emotions coursing through him, and if anyone should know, it'd be him. He swallowed nervously, excusing himself to see Noah to the door. There'd be time for introductions later.

"What is this? Some big brother radar thing? You always seem to show up when I'm drunk off my ass," Abby rolled her hazel eyes, raking her fingers through her tousled tawny hair. Wait a minute, the voice inside her head cried. What happened to the little buzz? You told Chad.Oh hell, Abby groaned. Now even the little voice inside her head was calling her on her tiny white lies. Not only that, it was like her own magic eight ball. She decided to ask it a quick question. Just to set a few murky things straight. Was she crazy or did the delectable Dr. Nick want to take her to bed as much as she wanted to take him to bed? You're crazy, the annoying little voice taunted her gleefully. "Oh shut the hell up," she muttered, narrowing her hazel eyes and sticking her tongue out at her brother's wicked grin as he loomed closer. "Shane," she said warningly, doing her best to look threatening despite having a terrible time not swaying on her own two feet. "So help me God if you even say it." "You'll what, Runt? Kick my ass?" he teased, drawing her into his comforting, familiar arms. "I love you so much I hate you sometimes," Abby grumbled into his chest, tightening her arms around his waist. "I love you, too, Sis. Even the little voices inside that scrambled brain of yours," Shane laughed, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Shane?" "Yeah?" Shane murmured, and Abby felt the press of his lips against the crown of her head, her own lips curving into a smile. "Shut up. Shut up now while you're ahead."

"Oh, Miguel," Theresa cried, holding the door open for Luis and Chad to help her brother through it. "Mama's worried sick, and MJ won't go to sleep without knowing you're okay. You ARE okay, aren't you?" Theresa asked, looking into Miguel's pain-filled brown eyes and finding her answer. Luis lifted Miguel's arm over his shoulder, and Chad did the same, lowering Miguel onto the couch. Theresa knelt at his feet, grasping his hands in her own. "Miguel.I know." Theresa paused, reflecting on how little she actually DID know about what Miguel was going through. She HAD lived through losing Ethan, but that wasn't the same thing. That old hurt was practically non-existent now because she'd moved on, she thought, raising her face to gaze into Chad's dark eyes for a moment. But Miguel's hurt would take much longer to fade. Kay was dead. Neither Miguel nor her young nephews would see her again while they walked this earth, and it was a difference, she realized, that they didn't know how to bear yet. "Miguel, I don't know how hard this is for you. I can't even begin to imagine.But I do know.you can't just give up, Miguel. MJ and Joshua NEED you. You're the only parent they have left." "So you have to put extra effort into being a GOOD parent, Bro," Luis said, his voice brimming with sympathy and concern but also authority. Theresa felt tears sting her eyes as she watched Miguel's face contort into an expression of equal parts anger and desolation. "Kay was the good parent. Sometimes I was there. Most of the time I wasn't."

Theresa wiped angrily at the tears she felt slipping down her cheeks. This whole situation.it was so unfair. She was so far removed from the starry- eyed teen she'd been forever ago, but she still hated the cruel everyday reminders that life wasn't the fairy tale she used to think it was. Bad things happened everyday. Papa. Disappearing from their lives and missing so much. Sheridan. Torn away from Ali and Luis only to return. And have her perfect life with Luis and Ali and Cristian turned upside down by Ali's cancer. Kay. Gone in the blink of an eye. Leaving her brother and MJ and Joshua behind. She took Chad's offered hand and let him pull her to her feet, wrapping her arms firmly around his waist and burying her tear- streaked face into his sweater. Luis's voice sounded strained to her ears as she listened to him comforting their brother. "It's going to be hard, Miguel," Luis said. "Probably the hardest thing you'll ever do. I'm not going to tell you that each day gets better. That's just not true. Some days ARE easier, and the pain feels like a dull ache. But then the next day comes, and the sun rises, and you feel like you can't do it anymore. That maybe it isn't worth all the pain. But it IS worth it, Miguel. Ali was worth it, and your boys are definitely worth it. Someday you're going to learn to live with it, but until then.you just exist. You keep on breathing." Miguel bowed his head, his shoulders shaking with his cries. "It's so hard to breathe," he sobbed. Luis rest a comforting hand on Miguel's back while Theresa dropped to her knees, her forehead leaning against Miguel's forehead. And they held each other like that for a long time with Chad watching in the background.

"Mom! Don't make me sleep with Myles again! He wets the bed!" Faith cried, stomping her foot indignantly as her mom led her into the bedroom she'd shared with her little brother for more than a week. "I'll sleep with you and Dad." Jessica's brows shot up to her forehead as she nudged her reluctant daughter toward the bed. Myles was already snoring softly, sprawled sideways across the mattress. "You'll sleep with your brother. It's the only empty bed," Jessica reminded her. "Make Uncle Noah sleep with Myles. They're both boys," Faith grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest so her mom couldn't pull her shirt over the top of her auburn head. Finally, Jessica gave up, laying the nightgown across the foot of the bed. "Uncle Noah's a grown-up. He needs more room than you do." "Well.let me sleep downstairs on the couch then. I promise I won't sneak into the kitchen for cookies. Grandma's cookies aren't that good," Faith's forehead wrinkled as she told Jessica this, and Jessica just had to laugh. Her laughter died, and her smile became bittersweet with the sudden realization that something about her own daughter reminded her, in that moment, of Kay. She was hit with an incredible wave of sadness and longing, and she ignored Faith's protests as pulled her into a tight hug. She didn't have a chance to stop the tears before they started slipping down her cheeks, soaking the thin cotton of her daughter's undershirt. Jessica held onto Faith for dear life, until something shifted, and her young daughter was the one holding her. The one stroking small fingers through her hair.

"It's okay, Mom. I'll sleep with Myles. I promise I won't complain anymore. Well.maybe just a little," Faith admitted. Jessica smiled through her tears, rocking back on her heels to look into Faith's compassionate blue eyes before pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I'll see what I can do about the bed tomorrow, okay?" "Okay," Faith said softly, staring at her mom in concern. "Mom.are you." "What?" Jessica asked, pausing in her task of settling her son on HIS side of the bed while she waited for her daughter to change into her nightgown. "Nevermind," Faith said, scrambling to get under the covers so her mom could tuck her in. Jessica twisted the bedside lamp off, crouching to turn on the night light in the corner of the bedroom and bathing her children in a soft yellow glow. "I love you, Mom," Faith called as Jessica pulled the bedroom door closed behind her. Jessica rest her hand against the door as she answered back, "I love you too. Now go to sleep, and promise me you'll come to me if Myles wets the bed again. Grandma needs her rest." "Oh, I will," she heard Faith respond, and for a moment she could swear her daughter was channeling Kay. She smiled, even if it was a bit sadly. It was in the little things. The unexpected things, she was beginning to realize, day after day. Her sister lived on.

Chapter 46

Noah lowered himself onto the sofa, closing his eyes tiredly as he listened to the sound of Reese's footsteps thudding up the stairs. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, groaning softly at the headache he felt building behind his eyes. He felt the hair on the nape of his neck prickle, and his eyes snapped open to find his dad standing before him. "Dad?" he questioned softly, leaning forward in an effort to see him better. "I didn't hear you. Is Mom okay?" He studied his father in the pale wash of the moonlight as he seated himself beside him on the sofa. His dad's face held a tiredness, a fatigue, Noah had never seen before now. Noah silently wondered if that tiredness had already existed, and he just hadn't seen it until he chose to come home. Too late.

The muscles of his thigh tensed momentarily under his father's hand, and he willed himself to relax as he looked into the pair of blue eyes that mirrored his own. "Your mom's not okay, Noah. But I think she will be. As unbelievable as it all sounds right now.I think we ALL will be. I'm glad you're home, Noah. Your mother needs all of us right now." Guilt made Noah hang his head at his dad's words. Guilt that it had taken his own sister's death to bring him home. He felt his throat closing up on him suddenly and air fleeing his lungs, making it a struggle to breathe. He looked into his dad's eyes, expecting to find them full of accusation and maybe even a little anger. But all he found was acceptance and love, relief, and somewhere in those emotion-riddled blue depths, a quiet happiness simply because he was home. Home where he belonged. "I'm sorry, Dad," Noah choked, crumpling before his father's eyes. "I should have been here." Noah's shuddering eased slightly under his dad's firm, comforting hand on his shoulder, and he felt a portion of the burden of failing his family lifted off his shoulders with his dad's next words. "Don't be. You're here now. Make it count."

"Mijo," Pilar whispered softly as she threaded her fingers through Cristian's dark hair, careful not to wake her grandson. "You didn't have to come for Cristian. I do not mind watching him." Luis smiled at his mother. "I know, Mama," he told her, shifting Cristian's dead weight to his other arm and embracing Pilar with his free arm. "Thank you, Mama, for watching him. But you already have MJ and Joshua. They need you a little bit more right now." "Luis," Pilar protested half-heartedly, clutching the edges of her robe tightly with one hand and moving the other to rest on Cristian's back, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. "All my grandchildren need me." "Yes, they do, Mama," Luis agreed, resting his cheek against his son's soft hair. "But tonight I'm going to cut you a break," Luis murmured, leaning forward to brush his lips against his mother's forehead.

Behind Pilar, in the living room, Miguel was asleep on the couch, MJ draped over his chest. "You and Papa have your hands full," Luis said, smiling slightly as his father came up behind his mother, Joshua dozing against his shoulder with his tiny thumb stuck firmly in his mouth. "Luis," Pilar attempted once more, "Cristian is no trouble." Luis shook his head, raising a hand in dismissal and goodbye. "Tonight, Mama.I just need to be close to him. Okay?" Pilar nodded, leaning back in Martin's ready arms. "And Mama." "Yes, Mijo?" Pilar's voice raised in question. "Don't come down on Miguel too hard. He's just having to find his own way." "I'll make sure she doesn't," Martin promised. "Give those beautiful girls of yours a kiss from us." "Don't worry about that, Papa," Luis said, his voice slightly gruff. "I got it covered."

"Chad, don't go. Stay," Theresa pleaded, looping her arms around Chad's waist and staring up at him with luminous dark eyes. "Please.you don't have to leave. It's late, and I don't think Luis is coming back tonight. We can sleep out here on the couch if you're afraid." "Now wait just a minute," Chad interrupted her with a grin. "Who said I was afraid of your brother? You're an adult, Theresa. You're not the kid I first met anymore. You're all grown up," Chad said, pausing to demonstrate just how grown-up with his short but passionate kiss, "and well past the marryin' age." Chad fell silent, panic starting to suffuse his body as he realized how she might choose to take his statement.

Theresa's big brown eyes sparkled laughingly at him as she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him down the hall to her bedroom. She let go of his hand to pick up a familiar orange tee shirt off the back of her vanity chair, and Chad shook his head in disbelief. "That's my favorite shirt." "Mine, too," Theresa giggled, hurriedly unbuttoning her blouse and shrugging it off her shoulders before he could steal the shirt back from her. "I've been looking for that shirt for weeks. You stole it last time you stayed over, didn't you?" "So what if I did?" Theresa teased, her voice muffled as she pulled the tee-shirt over her dark head and let it settle around her knees. Chad smirked as he stripped down to his boxers and scooted beneath the quilt to lay beside her. "I don't know," he said, reaching for her and pulling her close. Theresa shrieked when she felt his hands creep underneath the shirt and start to tickle her ribs. "I might just have to steal it back," Chad informed her, refusing to let her squirming body loose. And Theresa laughed, grateful for the closeness and distraction he was offering her.

Nick sighed, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. Dammit, but he couldn't sleep. SOMETHING was off. He'd tried counting sheep. He'd even read a little. Neither thing had worked, and now he was reduced to staring at the ceiling and straining his ears to pick up any movement in the room a few feet away, trying to pretend to himself the entire time that he really was counting the non-existent cracks on the ceiling. He kicked in frustration at the confining sheets tangled around his body, finally shoving them to his waist. He flopped ungracefully onto his side, forcing himself not to stare at his open bedroom door. He didn't want to think about the implications to such a small action as leaving the door wide open. Small but significant he was certain, and he didn't want to face up to them just yet. Or admit to the fact that he'd grown so used to sharing his bed in the past week with the woman down the hall.not having her beside him was bordering on unnatural.

Nick wanted to draw Abby and her vivacity close, but keep her at an arm's distance at the same time, and those conflicting feelings weighing on his mind were making it impossible for him to even close his eyes and think about getting some shut-eye. Not to mention closing his eyes pretty much assured that he'd be bombarded with a constant replay of the gold of her eyes after she'd stunned him speechless by kissing the hell out of him. He hated to think what might have happened had Shane and Noah Bennett not been witness to Abby's impromptu attack. She was just beginning to weaken his defenses against her when he'd remembered the other two men. He didn't want to give Abby's brother the wrong impression. There was absolutely nothing going on between him and his oddly likable little sister. Absolutely nothing at all, Nick told himself as he stared at the frost along the borders of the window opposite him. Nothing, he reminded himself, not daring to move as he felt the mattress dip slightly under the weight of another body and the press of a cold nose between his shoulder blades. He smiled when small hands reached around his waist, burrowing under his tee-shirt for warmth. He wasn't even going to think about the indisputable fact that he was more than glad to have her next to him.

Nick kept a hand clasped over Abby's hands as he turned over in the bed, finding himself staring into her sleepy but twinkling hazel eyes. His hand reached forward of its own accord, tucking a strand of tawny hair back behind her ear. "Your bed's warmer than mine," Abby offered lamely, breaking a silence and stare that was fast bordering on uncomfortable. Nick winced when he felt cold toes brush against his legs, and he trapped Abby's feet between them. Abby grinned, flexing her cold toes against his calves to get a reaction. Nick shivered slightly, gritting out a warning. "Stop that. Why are you always so damned cold?" Abby snuggled closer, and Nick was distracted by her laughing hazel eyes and their flecks of gold just long enough to be shocked to discover her hands have moved higher beneath his tee-shirt. "Don't you know? Every night I sneak out in the buff and make snow angels, and then I charm my way into your bed," she quipped. "You, of course, fall for it every time. I think you secretly enjoy 'warming' me up," she teased, crinkling up her nose. "God knows it gives me a thrill," she cracked, and he found himself smiling with her.

Nick caught himself staring at her a couple of times in the next several minutes, and he caught Abby smirking back. The alcohol Abby'd consumed had all but obliterated what little inhibitions she possessed, and he groaned as he felt her hand resting over his heart wander, one long nail scratching over his nipple before traveling down his side. He wasn't positive, but he may have ceased breathing altogether when he felt the fingers of that same hand dip just below the waistband of his boxers and rest against his hip. "I've been told it helps to breathe," she teased huskily, her mouth hovering just inches from his own. "We got interrupted earlier," Abby said, leaning forward and indulging herself by planting a few open-mouthed caresses along the fast-warming skin of his neck, and Nick cursed the surge of lust that swept through his body when he felt the moisture of her tongue along the underside of his jaw. "We were finally getting somewhere.I thought I finally had my REAL kiss.and the one voice.God, I love your eyes," Abby broke off suddenly, surprising Nick with her fierce attack of his mouth. Apparently, the greedy mesh of Abby's lips and teeth and tongue short-circuited all the neurons in Nick's brain because it faltered and was overruled by something else altogether, and God help him, he was kissing Abby back. Giving as good as he got but praying the entire time that common sense would swoop in and prevail to prevent him from making a momentous mistake. Obviously, this wasn't nothing. Nothing never was this much trouble.

Luis eased the door to Ali's hospital room open with his shoulder, backing inside and keeping a watchful eye out for Nurse Ellie. Police Chief or not, the woman would have his hide for breaking visiting hour rules. The hallway was quiet with no sign of Ellie or any of the other nurses for that matter, and Luis cradled Cristian close to his chest as he stepped into Ali's room. Ali's face was peaceful and relaxed in repose, and Luis breathed a sigh of relief to find his wife's beautiful face similarly serene. Cristian sighed in his sleep but did not wake as Luis carried him across the room and carefully lay him beside his mother, and Luis smiled tenderly at the pair as he watched Sheridan slip a loving arm around Cristian's small body and cuddle him close unconsciously in her sleep. He brushed a gentle hand over Cristian's dark head and pressed his lips against Sheridan's cheek, straightening up and releasing a surprised breath when he found himself staring into the clear and unblinking blue eyes of his young daughter. "Daddy," Ali smiled sleepily, outstretching her little hand. Luis clasped warm fingers around her tiny palm and brought it to his lips before laying it back down beside her and kissing the crown of her golden head. "Sleep, AliCat. I'm here. We're here," he murmured, combing his fingers through her pale locks until her heavy lids drooped again. "Sleep," he whispered, taking the chair beside her bed and drinking in the sight of her, his son, his wife as they breathed rhythmically and quietly. "Just sleep. Daddy's here."

Chapter 47

"But Mommy," Cristian whined plaintively. "I don't want to go. I want to stay here with you and Ali." Sheridan raised moist blue eyes to Luis's face, and Luis gave his wife a sympathetic look. He knew how much she always hated this. Saying goodbye. It didn't matter that it was only for a short period of time. She never liked being apart from either Cristian or Ali for any period of time. "I know you do, Honey," Sheridan whispered, caressing Cristian's damp cheeks with the pads of her thumbs. "But remember.you were supposed to spend the day with Sara and Emily and their grandpa. You don't want the girls to be disappointed, do you?" "I guess not," Cristian mumbled, hanging his dark head. "Cristian," Ali's soft voice spoke. "Gwen's daddy is nice. Jake says he's a lot of fun. More fun than his grandma." Luis resisted the urge to laugh at the effect Ali's unintentional reminder about Rebecca and her less than impressive skills with entertaining and taking care of children had on his young son. The expression on Cristian's face was somewhere between being crestfallen and being in a growing panic.

"Mommy," Cristian cried, throwing his arms around Sheridan's neck. Ali clasped a hand over her mouth and looked at them with contrite blue eyes, and Luis smiled at her in reassurance as he bent down, placing his hands on either of Cristian's tiny shoulders. "It's going to be okay. You'll have fun. You'll see." Uncertainty was still plain in Cristian's dark eyes as he looked at Sheridan again, and she leaned forward to brush her lips against his forehead as her blue eyes brightened with a sudden idea. "Have fun with Sara and Emily. For me and Ali. Daddy or Aunt Theresa or Nana Pilar or even Grandpa Martin will come get you if you're not having fun, and tomorrow you can come back to the hospital. ." Luis nodded his head with a smile. "And," Sheridan's blue eyes sparkled as she tickled Cristian's tummy teasingly, "I'll see if I can talk the doctor into letting you see the baby's ultrasound."

"Really?" Cristian said, seeming to perk up marginally. "Really," Sheridan assured him. "So you'll go? Daddy doesn't have to call Sara and Emily and explain to them why you're not coming?" "Don't do THAT," Cristian muttered, "I'm going. I'm going." Ali's nose crinkled up in amusement at her little brother's apparent annoyance. "Good," Sheridan said, stroking Cristian's soft hair from his forehead and smiling into his eyes. "But I got a question." Cristian said, dark brow furrowed in confusion. "Shoot," Luis grinned expectantly, already mentally preparing himself to keep a straight face whatever his young son surprised them with this time. Cristian shuffled his feet and twisted the hem of his sweater in his hands, and Ali and Sheridan and Luis all waited, breath held. "How's the doctor going to get a camera inside your belly? Who's going to cover the doctor's eyes, Mommy? Will the baby be embarrassed?"

Luis chuckled under his breath as Sheridan fished for an appropriate response for each of their son's questions and bit down a belly laugh when she became stuck on one in particular. "Embarrassed? Why would the baby be embarrassed?" Cristian's mouth hung open for a moment, and Ali giggled when she caught her daddy trying to hide his grin. "Because," Cristian replied, looking quite put off. "Because?" Sheridan said, leaving the question hanging in the air. "Do I have to explain everything?" Cristian grumbled, throwing his hands up in the air. "Because the baby won't have any clothes on," he hissed in a low whisper. "Mommy.the baby's NAKED." Sheridan choked on her own laughter as she tried to mirror Cristian's ultra serious, slightly offended expression. "Oh.Oh.we'll just have to blindfold that doctor then, won't we? Won't we, Daddy?" Luis's brown eyes danced as he nodded his head in agreement, squelching the temptation to howl with laughter as he took in his wife's flushed color and the plea in her blue eyes that screamed 'Get me out of this one, please!'

Katie smiled through the small window at the corner of the hospital door one more time before turning around and heading back to the nurses' station. So the family Lo-Fitz were fudging the rules a little bit. Again. In this case, it seemed to be doing them all good so she decided to let it slide for the time being. She kept her smile in place when she passed Ellie, packing it in and getting ready to go home after a long but non-eventful shift. True.the woman hardly had a kind word to say to her. But it was too early in the morning to be a bitch, and Katie didn't think she possessed many bitchy qualities anyway so.she politely waved to the other woman and took her seat behind the desk. She ducked her head to hide her smirk when Ellie shot her a perplexed, completely astonished 'what the hell is going on here?' look. "What's so funny this early in the morning? I looked, and it's not like Ellie has her skirt tucked in her pantyhose. I hear women hate when that happens." Katie released a childish snicker as she looked up to meet Nick's amused gray eyes. "Totally, totally hate when that happens," she agreed.

The door to Ali's door opened down the hall, and Luis exited, gently prodding Cristian forward. Katie winked at the pair as she watched them choose to take the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. "Katie.Katie, did you hear me?" Katie whirled around to face Nick when he waved his hand in front of her face. "Yeah.uh." Something about Ali, her subconscious supplied. "Ali's doing great. I just checked on her, and she's comfortable, smiling, and in great spirits." "Good. That's good," Nick spoke softly, flipping the pages on the chart in his other hand. "I think I'll go say good morning." "You don't trust me," Katie accused laughingly. "Katie." Nick sputtered, "I didn't.I DO trust you." "You just have a hankering to say good morning to two very special blondes, huh? What about that other blond in your life? You know.the one you live with. C'mon, Nick. You were making so much progress. What happened?" Katie's teasing smile slowly changed into an expression of total bewilderment when Nick's gray eyes seemed to lose their humor, and he walked away from her.

Not comfortable leaving matters in such an awkward state, Katie followed Nick into the locker room, quickly averting her eyes when she found him stripped to the waist and maintaining a more professional distance. She tried to bite her tongue, but history and her inquisitive nature were working against her. Before she could catch herself, she blurted, "What the hell happened between you and Abby, Nick?" Nick didn't answer her immediately, and she turned on her heels to stare levelly at him. Or, more accurately, the rippling muscles of his back and shoulders as he changed into his scrubs. She felt but couldn't control the flush rising up her neck and traveling to her cheeks when she saw the faint scratch marks across his back. "Did you." she paused, jumping when Nick slammed his locker shut and turned to face her, his gray eyes glittering at her in warning, "Katie." "You're.I like to consider you my friend. And I know Abby's a good person. Just like you are. If something goes wrong, I feel kind of responsible.the whole apartment trickery.Something obviously happened between you two, Nick, and I'm having a hard time telling from your behavior if it was something good or bad." "Me too, Katie," Nick sighed, rubbing his hand over his face tiredly. "I don't know what the hell that woman is doing to me. I don't even know if I want to stop it."

Abby groaned, blinking her hazel eyes open reluctantly when she heard the distinct and loudly echoing sound of.pounding at the front door. Whatever happened to knocking politely? In her immediate and uncensored opinion, the dumbass at the door wasn't knocking. He or she was trying to pulverize the door right off its hinges. She flailed an arm out blindly, grabbing the cool pillow beside her and burying her tangled mass of tawny hair beneath it. To hell with the person at the door. They'd go away, right? An unconscious smile lit upon her lips with the discovery that the pillow still smelled like Nick, and sleep once again began to blur the images, smells, and sounds surrounding her as she relived what little she could remember from the night before. In fact, the last thing she remembered from last night was the way his mouth felt moving beneath her own, and from there, things got a bit fuzzy. But she'd been told she had an amazing imagination (actually.other words were used at the time, but she'd decided to take them in a positive way). So she couldn't remember all the minute details. Nothing was stopping her from dreaming about them.

But SOMEBODY was, Abby discovered when she felt the pillow yanked off of her head and harsh light shining into her eyes. Abby glared as menacingly as she could manage at the figure towering over her, his name leaving her lips in a near-growl. "Shane. You are SO dead. D-E-A-D meat." "Morning to you too, Runt," Shane grunted, hauling her out of her warm cocoon of covers by one arm. "You seem a little mixed up. You're the one that looks like death warmed over," he muttered, pushing his half-clad little sister out of Nick's bedroom and toward the bathroom. Abby shrieked and drew in several rapid breaths when she felt the icy prick of the water hit her skin, and she practically lunged toward her brother's retreating form as he pulled the door shut behind him. Speaking in an infuriatingly false chipper voice, "Don't take too long. I'm taking you out for coffee when you get out. I think this hang-over deserves Starbucks." Nick's comfortable gray sweatshirt hit the door with a wet thud just seconds after the door had shut all the way. "Bastard," Abby grumbled as she started soaping up her hair. "Ow," she winced. Even her damned hair hurt.

Jake swiveled around on his mom's vanity seat, taking another quick peek at his newly spiked hair. He could still hear Mom in the twins' room fighting with them over what they were and were not going to take to Grandma and Grandpa's house for their sleep-over so he knew he was safe on that front. But Dad.where was. "I've always preferred hair that you can run your fingers through, but I have to say, Little Buddy, that you wear the Porcupine spikes so much better than Uncle Luis." Jake grinned lopsidedly at his dad, sliding out of his mom's chair hurriedly when he heard her practically stomping down the hall in her high heels. "You think I have enough gel?" he whispered, standing tall and doing his best to look unsuspicious as his mom strode through the open bedroom door, pulling a screaming Sara along with her. "Enough to warrant a flammability alert," Hank quipped with a smirk. Jake frowned. He didn't know for sure, but he was thinking his dad might have just made fun of him. He HATED when grown- ups did kids that way. It totally su.

"Jake, are you ready for school?" "Almost, Mom," Jake piped up. "You're not going to work that way, are you?" Jake jerked his head toward his dad when he heard his disapproving whistle. "I mean.you look okay, Mom, but I've seen you look much better," Jake continued, digging himself into an even deeper hole. Gwen glared at her son, informing Hank through clenched teeth that HE would be taking their son to school this morning. Hank and Jake alike breathed twin sighs of relief when Gwen hustled back out of the bedroom, dragging a now-kicking Sara behind her. "You almost struck out there, Little Buddy. NEVER tell a woman she doesn't look beautiful. They don't want to hear that," Hank explained, sidestepping the yapping Pug that seemed to salivate at the chance to trip him and nipped at his heels continuously. "But Dad." Jake whined. "You want me to just lie?" Hank nudged Gus away with his foot as he closed the bedroom closet and turned back to his son. "Absolutely."

Jake rolled his eyes as his mom wrapped his scarf around his neck multiple times, nearly cutting his air supply off, and sighed heavily when she got lipstick all over his cheek by kissing it. He stuck his tongue out to Sara, who looked remarkably like a ripe tomato this morning, what with her screaming fits and all. Not that he couldn't sympathize. He was actually GLAD he had to go back to school. Algebra was more fun than spending the day with Grandma. She just didn't know how to hang loose and have fun. He just hoped his teacher didn't want to talk about Kay too much. Talking about her made Jake remember how sad he felt and how much he really missed her. Jake just wanted to be a normal kid coming back from Christmas vacation. Not the kid whose cousin died over the holidays. He was feeling really sore over that. So even though the hugs and kisses made him feel like such a baby, he allowed them. He knew his mom and even his dad needed to show him how much they loved him, and he was okay with that. As long as it wasn't in public. That's why he didn't shove Emily's arms around his waist in goodbye away. Immediately anyway. He loved his little sister, but he was still a man. Like they did things like hugging their little sisters. Well.maybe Cristian.

Part Six