William sighed deeply. It was two in the morning, and he couldn't sleep. He had been tossing and turning for hours, trying to find peaceful oblivion but failing. Thankfully, he hadn't woken up his wife who was asleep beside him. Her medication kept her so exhausted that she slept with ease. For that, he thanked his lucky stars. He didn't want her to wake now. He needed this time to think.

Where had everything gone so wrong? Maybe that was an idiotic question. He knew exactly where and when everything had turned to a nose dive. When his world had begun to crumble. He tried to block the thought from his mind. He didn't want to remember any more than he had to.

He turned to look at his wife. The woman he had built a life with. He could see her profile in the soft moonlight. She was so beautiful and smart. Early on in their marriage he had made it a point to remind her of that every day. Now he never complimented her, and briefly wondered why.

The years of schizophrenia had taken their toll on her. She was still beautiful, but in a weird, zealous way. He missed the girl he'd fallen in love with. She had changed so much, but it wasn't her fault. Her mind was her captor, and far too often she was a hostage. He knew that she harbored an incredible amount of guilt over what she put her family through on a daily basis. He couldn't even give her comfort because in all honesty, she was right to feel that way.

So often he wished things were different. That they could be a normal family. But then again, he wouldn't have known how to live that way. Often times he felt trapped- like there was no way out. The only possible ways to get out would all hurt his family. He didn't want to do that- he still loved and cared for them deeply.

Frustrated, he threw off the blankets and went to get a drink. It wasn't like he would be able to sleep anytime soon anyhow. He went into the kitchen and poured himself a scotch on the rocks. He moved into the living room to drink it. As he swirled the brown liquid in his glass, moments of his life flashed before his eyes. His first meeting with Diana, their first date and kiss, his proposal to her, their wedding, her pregnancy, and the birth of their son. So much of their lives had been lived together. Was he really considering forsaking all of it for his freedom?

And what about Spencer? Could he really leave one of the best things he'd ever done with his life? He loved his son- he just wasn't sure how to express it adequately. He had a bright future stretching out ahead of him, and William didn't want to miss it. He downed his drink in a matter of seconds before putting the glass in the kitchen.

Quietly, he opened his son's bedroom door and peered inside. His son was fast asleep. At age five, he was already smarter than most teenagers. He was glad his son had his mother's brains. He could only pray that he wouldn't inherit her illness. But only time would tell that. He stepped inside the room and sat on the floor for a long time. Sometimes when he felt the urge to leave, he planted himself by his son and reminded himself of all the reasons he had to stay. This was the reason he stayed. This was one of the most important people in his life. He couldn't bear to give Spencer any more pain to deal with.

He got up from his spot, and gave his son a gentle kiss on the forehead. He looked back at him just before he closed the door and saw the peaceful expression on Spencer's face. He smiled to himself before shutting the door.

He went back to the bed he shared with his wife and was surprised to find her awake.

"What are you doing up?" He asked. She smiled slightly.

"I could ask you the same question."

So she was lucid. Good.

"I couldn't sleep." He shrugged. She sighed.

"Again?"

He nodded. She looked at him sadly.

"Why are you awake?" He asked. She shook her head.

"Just a bad dream. It doesn't matter." He moved to sit with her.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She sighed. "Not really. But I won't really get through anything if I keep it to myself. It's just an old fear I have. Nothing too bad." He waited for her to finish her nervous speech. She paused. "I'm afraid of being a failure."

"What do you mean? In what way?"

"I don't want Spencer to be ashamed of having me as a mother because of my condition." She shivered even though she had blankets on. Unconsciously, he put an arm around her. She looked like she was about to cry, and it weighed down William's heart.

"Your condition doesn't define how good of a parent you are." He tried to reassure her. She half-smiled at him.

"We Both know I'm to blame for the problems in this family." She said bitterly.

He was surprised at the remark. "No you're not." She looked at him in confusion. "It's just as much my fault as it is yours. Marriage is an equal partnership. You can't blame yourself for something you can't control. If anything, I'm at fault for not handling this in the right way. I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry, too."

For the first time in a while, William held his wife's hand. She smiled softly, and he smiled with her.

"You should really get to bed, you still have work in the morning."

"You're right." He sighed. They both laid down and faced each other.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

That night, William Reid went to sleep knowing that he would stay with his family another day.