A/N: This one is pretty angsty folks. Possible triggers: domestic violence, miscarriage
Martha Hudson sat down to her tea and brownie from the tin labeled 'soothing'. Her hip wasn't bothering her today, not more than any hip ever bothered anybody. It never did. People expected older folks to complain of aching joints, and seldom raised an eyebrow when 'herbal soothers' were mentioned for the treatment of these pains. No one wanted to hear from an old lady who still sometimes needed soothing after events that happened nearly 40 years ago.
She still shuddered to think about the beating. It hadn't been the first, but it'd been the most severe by far. But then, that had been the point, hadn't it? Frank couldn't have had a couple of screaming brats complicating things, now could he? Of course she had told the doctor that she had fallen on the stairs. Of course she had. Of course she had stayed, done what he had told her to do, whether it was office work or dancing. Of course she had. No friends, an ocean away from family, she'd done what she'd had to do.
Some days she wonders what her twin sons would have been like. She thinks she knows.
She doesn't know why fortune smiled upon her, but she is glad for the two she calls her boys.