Everything was fine. Blank. She hadn't had a clear thought in hours. It was good. The medication was working. Holding everything at bay until it would be too late. She drove blindly, robotically. She had memorized the route to the train station by now, first mentally mapping it and then driving there at least once a day for nearly a week to sit in the parking lot until she lost her nerve and went back home.

This time it was real, though. She told Art she had to leave work early, and Paul didn't have to know a thing because he was out of town anyways. And Alison...she tried not to think of Alison. She swallowed the rest of the pills in her purse and then drove to the station. She sat for hours as the numbness crept into her limbs, her belly, and finally her brain.

Then she got out of the car, made her way to the platform. She checked the schedule for the next train and realized that she had less than a minute.

Something broke. The numbness, the haze, it all but shattered.

Elizabeth Childs wept. The sobs broke from her chest and she paced, hand over her mouth to muffle the sound, eyes clenched tight against the tears. How could she do this? Her sisters needed her. Disease and danger and the distant looming shadow of the scientists who had made them were quickly closing in. Katja was coming to America in two days to seek out a cure. Cosima was eagerly awaiting the arrival of the blood samples. Alison was...Alison.

Beth's hands came up to her forehead and the pain in her heart was near unbearable. Alison, beautiful, precise, protective Alison. How could Beth just leave her behind? But Alison wasn't helpless; Beth had made sure of that. Even as she felt her sanity slipping out of her fingers, Beth had seen to it that Alison was not left vulnerable.

Beth took a deep breath, wiping her eyes.

I'm more useful to her dead than I am alive.

Beth knew too much. She had dived too deep. The Maggie Chen case was about to burst wide open and as soon as it did, every single one of her sisters would be in danger. The story would be splashed all over the headlines - Woman Murdered by Illegal Clone; Murderous Clones Identified and Tracked Down for Questioning. There would be no hiding then, and it would only be a matter of time before the assassin found and killed them all.

Beth couldn't do it anymore. The nightmares never stopped now, the paranoia never faded, and more than anything she was failing - as a detective, as a sister, as a lover. This was her contribution. This was the only way she knew how to help, by eliminating her piece of the puzzle and protecting the ones she loved by shrouding herself in silence. There was no other way.

Forgive me, Ali. Forgive me. Forgive me.

The plea ran through her mind as she set her purse down, slipped out of her heels one at a time, shrugged out of her jacket and folded it neatly on top of her shoes. She heard as much as felt the rumble of the approaching train. Not much time left now.

She turned, feeling the thud of her heart as though it were fighting to escape her ribs, and found herself face to face with a woman who was staring at her with a mixed of apprehension and curiosity. Beth paused for the briefest instant, not even registering surprise as she looked into her own face, reflected back under a heavy layer of smeared mascara and ratted hair.

Sarah Manning. Mother of Kira Manning. The missing drifter clone.

Beth had found her mugshot while she was digging for answers. She knew about the daughter who was perhaps the most confusing anomaly she had encountered thus far. Beth had kept both Sarah and Kira a secret from the others because something told her that there was something deeply important about the fact that this woman could bear children of her own when the rest of them were barren.

Beth wanted to say something, wanted to warn Sarah to stay as far away as possible, to take her daughter and go into hiding. She wanted to tell her to find Alison and give her the message that Beth had not been able to articulate when her call went to Alison's voice mailbox.

But time was up. If she hesitated, she would miss her chance, and she would have failed again.

Tell Alison I'm sorry. Tell her I love her.

Another tear traced it's way down Beth Child's cheek as she walked forward into the path of the oncoming train.

It didn't hurt as much as she thought it would.