Author's Note: This is my first story in several years. After much thought, I felt it would be appropriate to return and breathe new life to some old favorite characters of mine. I'm a little rusty, but willing to continue this story if even one person is willing to read it. Obviously, you will find that quite a few creative liberties have been taken. Some events from the show (both minor and major) have been changed or even disregarded.

She was never much of a coffee person, but with so much change in her life, she was willing to give it a go. Every fiber of her being screamed for something new and as she sat at the island counter of the freshly modernized kitchen, Violet knew that she was trying too hard lately. Trying to forget the death of her husband that plagued her in waves over the course of the last three years. Trying to forget the move she made to leave behind every bad memory made at her previous address. And trying to forget that no matter how many moves, remodels, taste tests, and new experiences she put herself through, it would all continue to be a part of her.

How many times was somebody sitting on a couch and listened to her say that once you learn how to live with life altering situation, you learn to find happiness over time? As this idea crossed the psychiatrist's mind, a low chuckle escaped her lips before the ceramic cup silenced her and warm caffeine ran down her throat. The advice applied to so many people and after several happenstances of running into prior patients on the street and hearing and seeing how happy they were, she knew she was damn good at her job. And yet, with all the passing years, tragedy after tragedy failed to be replaced by something so distractingly good that she wouldn't have the time to look back.

She loved her job and her child who got bigger every time she walked out of the room. Raising him was pure joy and yet, something was missing. It left a bad taste in her mouth to say the words, as though they would cause other people to judge her. How easy would it be to misunderstand what she meant and assume she wasn't satisfied with being a mother? So she kept her mouth shut most of the time. When Cooper wanted to listen, she'd talk, but now that he was on cloud nine about raising his own litter, he had a difficult time understanding. He tried to tell her that he understood, but in an instant, he would go on about how parenthood should fill any void a person felt. He didn't realize he was doing it and normally Violet would look passed such things. It was getting progressively harder.

Sam and Naomi swore to her that she would find what was missing after the both of them experienced a whirlwind of a love story that drove them apart for several years before bringing them back together, happier than ever.

Charlotte gagged at everybody's happy as pie comments and kept things as real as it would get. 'Life will suck until it doesn't anymore' - the most truthful words spoken to her, although they got her as far as everyone else's wise words.

Addison was still wrapped up happily in marriage and raising a toddler. They had fun nights out every now and then, but real talk was becoming increasingly harder. The more she tried to be heard, the smaller she felt. Lost.

Sheldon came home seven months after leaving to be with Miranda. Given the irreparable stage of cancer she had been dealing with, the practice left his job open. They knew he'd be back and when he arrived and admitted that his short lived lover died two and a half months after they went off to travel, he was too messed up to come home right away. He and Violet quickly picked up where they left off because as far as broken people go, the two of them had much to talk about. Between that and their like degrees, it was nice to have him around, since he always made an effort to understand her. When he didn't, he refused to judge her. Six weeks ago, his cancer returned, and he disconnected himself once again. On top of losing an active friend, she now constantly worried about him dying.

It was difficult to find things that mattered to her. Her novel 'Private Practice' had been published just over a year ago, and it reached greater heights than the last one. She was constantly recognized and asked about when her third book would be penned. But the thing was... there was nothing to write about. Violet was insanely tired of being the woman who used her tragedies to sell. That was never how she saw it when she wrote a chapter. Each page was used to vent and to help connect herself with others who felt as lost in the world as did. Her books were meant to help people, and they did. But every time she did an interview or drew attention while out, her hardships were always mentioned. She was always asked about how she coped with them and the longer she lived an unhappy life, the less she was able to cope with it all.

Every day felt like a step backwards and she actually dreaded being spotted. All it did these days was remind her that such horrible things defined her life. What good things defined her? Not a thought came to mind. That ever lingering loneliness escaped to engulf her and all she had to fight it off was coffee. Quickly, she finished her cup and poured herself a new one before staring out of the window. From this spot, she had the perfect view of Lucas's swing set. With a sigh, she wished she kept him home from school today so he could distract her. She'd done it once a week since school started just a month ago and she knew she needed to stop. What she needed was an adult companion.

Her own laughter filled the room in an attempt to push the idea from her mind. Just a few nights ago, Addison came over and after a few glasses of wine, she was trying to get Violet to pose for an online dating profile picture. A profile that Violet was completely mortified of, and yet, it wound up being made. Her redheaded friend found a picture once she came to terms with the fact that Violet was not about to cooperate.

Within a few days, she would most likely delete the profile, but it was amusing every now and then to read through the messages. Amusing in the sense that she was genuinely surprised by how many people acknowledged her, and thought she was beautiful. That wasn't something she believed these days and if anything at all, they knew her from her career and wanted to run into the spotlight. Yes. It felt believable that these men would prey off of her desperation and vulnerability.

A few feet away laid her laptop since she often checked emails and took care of business on there before taking Lucas to school. It usually just sat there because she rarely had a day off from the practice, but since Naomi and Sam were reconstructing once again, Violet and the rest of her colleagues had the whole week off. The time off was paid and so she didn't want to complain, but she'd much rather keep busy. But since her laptop was right there, she reached out for it and opened it. It took a minute to load and was it was running efficiently, she brought up her profile and began to scroll through messages that she would never respond to. Just like the others. None of them held her attention for more than five seconds, until she stumbled upon a particular one somewhere in the middle of messages.

"You've gotten more beautiful over time. I'm sorry I couldn't stick around to see you smile at least once more."

All the profile picture featured was the ocean and the display name was "Anonymous." That didn't help at all. What she did see was a green dot next to his picture which meant he was online. As much as she hated herself for humoring what might actually be a joke, she cracked under pressure.

"Do I know you?"

How could she not respond? Did she actually know who this person was, or were they pulling her leg? To kill time, she sipped the black cup of coffee slowly, staring at the screen as though the intensity would prompt a response. Eventually, it came.

"Of course you do."

"And you are...?"

"Regretful that I never tried."

The more she thought about it, the more it felt like a joke. She laughed to herself as she wrote back.

"Very funny."

"Not at all."

"Okay, you're right. This isn't funny. Who are you?"

"Well now I'm scared to tell you."

"Why?"

"Because now you know I like you."

"Come on now. For all you know, I could have liked you."

"Unlikely."

Curiosity had gotten the best of her and if this was a trap, this person definitely saw her coming. At least she wasn't sitting around, wallowing in self pity. This was a step up, talking to this mystery man... person... potential weirdo. Oh god. What if they were a weirdo? Katie flashbacks filled her memory and her hand instinctively covered the aging scar on her stomach. Maybe she shouldn't respond? It was a bad idea, right?

As though this person was inside of her mind, they sent another message.

"Don't worry, I'm not some freak. You're safe. You were always safe with me."

"You know, the more you play this game, the less I feel like I actually know you."

It was getting too weird. Standing up from the stool and refilling the cup once more, the brunette held it in her hands and paced back and forth in the kitchen. This profile was a huge mistake. From the corner of her eye, she noticed another message pop up. Like a magnet, she was pulled closer by some invisible force.

"Screw it. I'm back and I'm going to give it a shot this time."

Frustrated and undeniably nervous, Violet backed away from the laptop looked for any possible distraction. There was some mail she forgot to send out earlier, and the mailman always reminded her that he would be willing to take her outgoing mail for her. Although she felt bad, this time she would take him up on it. Grabbing the pile with her free hand, she went out the back door rather than the front door since it was closer and honestly, she could use the extra minute of inconvenience. And so she walked within her fenced in property, around the side until she came to the mailbox that was off to the far left of her front yard.

Just as she put the envelopes in, she heard somebody walking up her property and her heart fell straight to her ass. Along the walkway to her front door, she had tall bushes that she instantly regretted. Who the hell was walking up there? Yes, it occurred to her that she had friends, but they always forewarned her that they were coming because they were mindful of her PTSD, even though it had been years since the last series of attacks.

Well, the streak was about to be broken.

Oh. My. God. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I love you, Lucas. Oh my god, my child is going to be an orphan.

Hearing the knocks on her door, she couldn't remember if she locked it. More likely than not, she did. If she made it back inside through the back and locked herself in, she'd be alright. The brunette nodded to the silent plan like a crazy person and the silence was broken as she ran the perimeter of her home. Suddenly, every branch she never knew existed managed to be exactly where her feet landed to be broken louder than the boom of thunder.

"Violet?" a man's voice called her name. Crap. They heard her. They knew her. Was it the internet stalker?

I AM GOING TO DIE.

Tears blurred her vision and she forced her feet to carry her faster, but the lack of sight handicapped her. She fell faster than she could process it. Before she knew it, her body hit the ground. If it had a pulse within her body, it was beating so loud that she swore her stalker could hear it too. And he was coming.

Opening her eyes and rubbing them dry with dirty hands, she used her renewed sight to make sure her surroundings were clear, then pushed her dirt covered body from the ground. She was running before she could even straighten her body, and she was quickly into the backyard. Whoever heard her before decided to come in from the other side. She noticed a body turning the corner from the other side and an involuntary scream left her body as she bolted for the door in hopes of making it first.

"Violet it's me!" although the voice sounded familiar, she couldn't recognize it in such a state of panic. Maybe they weren't a friend. Maybe they were somebody who hated her. There were plenty of people who disliked her. "Are you okay?! Is somebody following you?!" Did this guy really think he was going to fool her? Was he trying to play savior, as though he was the one scaring off her stalker? He was the stalker.

The door was still cracked open thankfully because if life were a horror movie, the door would be jammed or something. She let herself in and spun around to slam the glass door shut and locked it. Her body was trembling beyond control, her breathing was irregular, and when she looked down at her dirt covered body, she noticed a cut on her arm and blood dripping down it and more coming through her white tank top. Was it her scar? Before she could check, the sound of something hitting the door made her jump and pulled her attention away from the blood.

"Violet!" the voice sounded desperate to help her and as much as she wanted to believe it, she took precautions first and grabbed a knife from the block on the counter a few feet away. Not that this crying mess of a person waving a knife around could actually scare somebody. But she did need to see who this person was before she called the cops, in case they made a run for it. They were a killer after all, surely.

Taking a deep breath, she walked back over to the door where this person knocked on it while calling her name over and over. Of all the hundreds of faces that flashed through her mind, this was not one she imagined. In fact, it wasn't one she expected to ever see again in her life. The knife fell from her hand as she realized this person could never hurt her. He'd always been a savior of sorts.

"It's really you?" she asked between pathetic cries, just loud enough for him to hear from the other side of the door.

He nodded his head as he looked passed her and noticed the laptop on the island. "I'm sorry. It didn't seem so creepy in my head. In retrospect... I'm an asshole. I'm sorry."

It never occurred to her that he could like her. What about her could be so attractive? Perplexed by the entire situation, she hadn't even let him in yet. "Did you really mean what you said? There's no way you-"

"I meant it."

Having this person feel any sort of romantic feelings toward her never crossed her mind. It never seemed possible. Just like him returning into her life never seemed possible. And yet, here he was. And now that he was here, he was exactly what he wanted. His presence gave her the clarity she'd been struggling to find.

For a moment, she found herself feeling so shy that she looked down, only to find that she was still a bloody and dirty mess. Embarrassment washed over her and he must have read it in her expression.

"Stop, you're beautiful."

Hearing him chuckle elicited the same response out of her. Turning the look and opening the door for him, his smile showed nothing but pure joy; something she never thought she could give somebody for even a second.

"You're back?"

"I'm back."

"For good?" the brunette was terrified to open her heart up once again in this lifetime only for it to be mangled like it had been in the past.

"For good," he promised as he stepped inside and pulled Violet into his arms with such strength. She returned it as though he'd disappear if she let go. He couldn't leave again. He said he wouldn't, and she miraculously believed him.

"Shit. Violet Marianne Turner. Is this really happening?" the amazement in his voice reminded her that she was important. At least, she was to him.

Violet buried her face in his chest and laughed. "Shit. William Dell Parker. It really is happening."