Disclaimer: Hey, the Disney character's aren't mine, but the rest of them are! Sheesh...how long have I been promising you guys this story? I have no idea, but it's been a WHILE! I'm sorry!! Really, I am! Very truly sorry! Anyway, I finally got it done, and I hope that it's worth the wait. Or the Waite, whichever works. Hehehe! Anyway, this story has been divided into two, because I found out that what I wanted to do with this is a lot more complicated then I originally thought! Heh! So, be on the look out for "Coming Home", the next in this sequence!

A Mother's Prayer

The first morning of the new millennium dawned bright, cold and clear. The sun rose with a slow, sleepy kind of unhurried grace, lifting above the horizon like a tired child lifts her head after her nap. The first streaks of red and gold broke through the dark night sky like an angel's song, casting out the shadows that came with the darkness, giving rise to new hope. By the time the golden ball of light was fully visible, all the blackness of night was gone, banished by the rising sun in the age old dance that had taken place every morning since the first morning.

Genevieve Waite stared out at the sun with the tired eyes of some one whose demons had kept her awake all through the long night. Long red hair hung in her dark brown eyes, loose around her shoulders and flowing nearly to the middle of her back. The matriarch of the Waite family sat with her legs folded up under her in the threadbare, grape juice stained arm chair in her family's home, a cup of steaming blackberry tea, her tenth, in her hand.

Sighing, the petite woman covered her shadowed eyes with her hand, trying to block out the image of her son's pain filled eyes, and the wisp of a girl that lay so still in a hospital bed she did not belong in. For the millionth time that night, Genevieve cursed her own stupidity, not getting Caitie to safety when the girl's plight became apparent.

She, who came from the EXACT same type of home, had allowed it to happen to another little girl. Shaking her head again, she cursed herself once more, dropping her hand from her eyes to stare hard at the brilliant light the filled the room.

"How could I Sam?" Genevieve asked mid-air, a habit she had picked up nearly four years ago. Whenever she was stressed or troubled, she always found it comforting to speak to the spectra of her beloved, though deceased, husband. Her children had told her time and time again that she was insane, why on earth would she talk to Dad when he wasn't ALIVE anymore? It looked like she was talking to herself! It had never bothered Genevieve overly much--she just went right on, talking to her beloved Sam, knowing that, somewhere, someway, he could hear her--and comfort her.

"How could I Sam? How could I let that little girl suffer the way she did, only getting my act in gear when it was hit home, very hard I might add, that Caitie could die in her current situation?" The red head stopped, setting her coffee cup down on the scuffed table in front of the couch, and moving toward the mantle, where a multitude of photos rested above the fire place.

Pushing herself up on her toes, the woman grasped a gold and silver frame, lowering herself back to the ground with the picture in her hands. Smiling out at the camera was a captured image of herself when she had been much younger, and her beloved Sam. The thick black hair, hair he had passed down to his oldest son and daughter, hung down in his emerald green eyes, eyes that laughed and smiled, yet burned with something else that not many other people could understand. His quirky smile lit up his face, making him appear even more beautiful then he already did. He towered above the image of her, his arm slung around her shoulders, pressing her tightly to his side.

A sad smile pulled at her lips as she stared at the picture, before pulling it to her chest and hugging it against her body. Sighing again, she closed her eyes, willing the tears that had threatened there all night to disperse.

"Oh, Sam, it's never going to change is it? There's always going to be some little girl with a monster for a father, some little girl that's going to be hurt by that monster, some little girl that's going to have to run away to save herself. I wish...." The tears, ignoring her order to leave, began to trickle down her cheeks in a flood, rolling down her high cheekbones, and dribbling down her chin to cling there for the briefest instant, before falling to the floor. "I wish that it just hadn't been Caitie. Hadn't been the little girl that captured our son's heart--because I couldn't bare for him to have to go through the same pain that you went through, loving me."

Genevieve sniffed, and lifted on hand to her face to bat feebly at the tears that now rained down her face. Sniffing again, she pulled the picture halfway away from her heart to stare at her beloved's face. The smile that had pierced her heart the first time she had ever seen it broke her now, sobs threatening to tear her tiny frame apart.

"Oh, Sam, it's not fair!" She wept, sinking to the floor, her legs once more folded beneath her. "Caitie didn't deserve this, she's a good, sweet girl! Why is it always the ones that deserve it the least that are always the one to get hurt the most?! Oh, and Jamie...Jamie loves her so, and it kills him to know that he couldn't help her. It kills him to know that she almost died, and nothing he could have done could have stopped it. He LOVES her, Sam, loves her like I love you. And now he must face all the hurt that comes with loving a woman that is 'damaged', a woman that will cringe in fear from his touch sometimes. Oh my son, are you strong enough to love her the way you both deserve?"

Genevieve allowed herself to completely break down, tears streaming down her face, and her heart breaking in her chest. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. How could this happen, how could she LET this happen?

Finally, finally, the woman was able to gain control of herself, brushing away the tears from her face and taking a deep, calming breath. Brushing the last of her tears away, Genevieve allowed her eyes to fall on the old picture, now resting in it's silver an gold frame beside her, a few droplets of water marring the glass covering.

Brushing the water off the picture, the woman rose to her feet, taking the frame with her. She rested it back on it's spot on the mantle, her eyes lingering on her husband's face for a long moment.

"Rien jamais changements." She whispered sadly, brushing her hair out of her face. "Nothing ever changes, does it, beloved?"

@-}--}---

The first light of day peeped through room 143's closed hospital window, illuminating a pair of sleeping teenagers.

Caitie Roth lay on her hospital bed, her head turned away from the window, as though she had fallen asleep looking at the young man that was currently sprawled in the uncomfortable plastic visitor chair that rested beside her bed. Jamie Waite's head was tilted back, his long lashes nearly brushing his cheek as he slept the sleep of those who have suffered far to much in far to short a period of time and nothing in heaven or earth could wake them.

However, the glinting sunlight refused to be intimidated, finally succeeding in it's apparent goal of waking both Caitie and Jamie up. The annoying sunshine woke Caitie up first, her wide hazel eyes fluttering open as she blinked wearily, her entire body hurting. She felt like she had been run over by a truck.

Lifting her hand to her face, she brushed a lock of hair back from her eyes, and let her gaze wander to the slumbering form of Jamie Waite. In sleep, his face looked much younger then it normally did, his long lashes sweeping his cheeks. His lips were pulled down into a slight frown, as though his dreams weren't as peaceful as they should be, and his body was tight, as though he was poised for a fight in his dreamland.

The sunlight danced across his face again, and illuminated old tracks of tears that stained his face. Caitie's heart caught in her throat, and she bit her lip, peeling her eyes away from his face, and turning her head.

She immediately regretted it, a sharp pain biting through her body and pulling an involuntary cry of pain from her lips. The brunette collapsed back against her pillow, shutting her eyes in agony for a second.

However, her small cry of pain was what it took to break through Jamie's deep, if less then peaceful, sleep, and the young man's eyes flew open, the deep depths startled and worried, a complete contrast to the calmness of slumber that covered him just a few seconds ago.

"Caitie?" He croaked, leaning forward as he did so, reaching out a long fingered hand to her. Caitie, still surprised by the pain that had shot through her body, couldn't answer for a few moments.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, and then winced at how scratchy and hoarse her voice was.

"Must have fallen asleep. Are you okay? Does anything hurt? Do you want me to get the nurse?" Jamie asked, brushing off her question.

"I'm...okay." Caitie winced when another shot of pain racked her body, and she could see the disbelief on her friend's face.

"I'm going to get the nurse." Jamie told her decisively, rising to his feet and making his way toward the door.

"No...wait!" Caitie cried, the prospect of being alone suddenly terrifying to her. The dark haired youth stopped in his tracks, turning back to her and returning to her side.

"What? What is it?" Jamie asked, a line of worry creasing his eyebrows.

"Don't go." Caitie hated herself for begging. He moved back to her, and sat back down in his chair, his eyes dark with worry. Without even thinking about it, the girl reached out for Jamie's hand, tangling her fingers with his. "I don't...I don't want to be alone."

Jamie swallowed hard, and squeezed her hand slightly, clearing his throat before speaking. "I'll never leave you, Caitie."

@-}--}---

Jamie stood in front of the phone, trying to talking himself into picking it up. Just pick it up and call Val, he mentally coached himself. You know that Caitie needs her right now--and she has every right to know!

But that didn't make making this call any easier. How exactly was he suppose to go about telling Val Linar that her best friend was in the hospital, and had been put there by her own father?

Jamie forced back the bile that rose in the back of his throat at the thought, closing his eyes briefly for a second, trying to force the image of Caitie laying broken and bleeding at the bottom of the staircase from his mind. How could anyone want to hurt her that way? Didn't they see what wonderful, beautiful, smart...

He cut his thoughts off at that point, turning his attention back to the phone. He needed to call Val and tell her what had happened. Caitie had asked him too--she needed her best friend right then--she needed to be surrounded by people that loved her.

The young man sighed, and picked up the receiver of the pay phone, his other hand fishing a quarter and a dime out of his pocket. Putting the money in the slot, he dialed the number that Caitie had given him before she had fallen asleep. The ringing of the telephone on the other end filled his ear. One ring...two rings...three rings. Maybe she wasn't home?

Before the phone could ring a fourth time, the line was picked up, and a sleepy female voice filled his ears.

"Hello?" She croaked out.

"Hello? Is Val there?" Jamie asked, shifting nervously. Just how was he going to word this?

"This is she. Who is this?" Val sounded a little bit more awake now, and slightly confused as to who would be calling her at seven o'clock in the morning on New Year's Day.

"Val, this is Jamie." He answered, swallowing hard, trying to work out what he was going to say to her in his mind.

"Hi Jamie....umm....is there something that I can do for you?" Val sounded confused, and Jamie couldn't blame her. He had never called her this early before in the morning--in fact, he didn't think that he had ever called her period.

"Val..." Jamie trailed off, trying to come up with a way to phrase this as delicately as possible, so as not to shock and upset Val anymore then need be. "Caitie got thrown down a flight of stairs and is in the hospital." Well, that didn't quite come out the way he had planned it.

"WHAT!?!?! OH MY GOD, IS SHE OKAY!? WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN!? I'LL BE RIGHT THERE!"

Jamie had, wisely, pulled the phone away from his ear right after the word "what" and still managed to hear what the frantic young woman had screamed perfectly. "Um, okay..." He called into the mouth piece, but was rewarded with only the dial tone. Evidently, Val was already on her way.

The young man hung up the phone, and headed back toward Caitie's room, hoping that she hadn't woken up in the five minutes it had taken to call Val. He didn't want her to wake alone and afraid--ever again.

So intent was he on getting back to Caitie, that he missed the gaze of Lonnie Truman on his back. Shaking her head, the woman went back to her typing, a small frown pulling at her lips.

That poor little girl, Lonnie thought to herself, thinking about her own daughter Destiny, who was actually about the same age as Caitie and Jamie. The woman shuddered, the idea of her beloved little girl being in the same condition as this little girl horrifying her. But at least Caitie had some one that loved her as much as that young man, Lonnie consoled herself. The woman looked back over her shoulder at the rapidly disappearing image of Jamie Waite, and smiled to herself. We should all be so lucky.

@-}--}---

Jazz Waite stepped through the glass sliding doors of the hospital, looking left to right with slightly terrified interest. Hospitals had always unnerved Jazz--all the sickness and death and despair of human kind, all rolled up into one nice little package and scented with fake oranges and anti-bacterial soap.

Chewing on her bottom lip, the girl crossed her arms over her chest and walked toward the lobby, intent on going to go see Caitie.

Jazz hadn't quiet known what to make of Caitie Roth the first time she had met her. Under normal circumstances, the slender girl realized, Caitie would have unnerved her--to say the least. Jazz was, by nature, rather quiet and easily startled, and overly brash and mouthy people tended to spook her.

However, the conditions surrounding her first encounter with her older brother's best friend had been far from normal, to put it mildly. The scared, battered girl Jamie had brought home wasn't anything like the Caitie the Waite girls had gotten to know over the past few months--which was probably what had allowed Jazz to be at ease around the other girl. The older girl's plight had appealed to Jamie's younger sister's sensitive heart and need to love and protect everyone that hurt.

Jamie was the oldest of the family; he was the one that protected the younger ones from physical harm and pain. He was the one the little girls went to when they were scared. But Jazz was the tender heart of the family--it was her that everyone, including Jamie, went to when they were hurt and needed tender love and care.

Jazz walked softly into the lobby, her large brown eyes scanning the area for a second, just out of habit. The girl's eyes fell on the nurse's station where a tall, slender blonde girl was leaning, tears streaming down her cheeks. Lonnie was saying something to her, her expression compassionate. The girl nodded dejectedly, her shoulders beginning to shake. The nurse suddenly caught sight of Jazz, and tapped the blonde's hand, pointing to Jazz.

Confused, the brunette looked over her shoulder, wondering if there was someone behind her that Lonnie was gesturing to. No...so that meant that Lonnie was pointing at her. Why in the world was Lonnie pointing at her?

The blonde nodded her thanks, and walked toward Jazz, her face blotchy and wet from crying. The girl came to rest in front of the brunette, her fingers clasped in front of her. S

Sniffing, the girl asked "Are you Jamie Waite's little sister?"

Blinking, Jazz nodded slowly, wondering how this girl knew her brother. The way she stood and held herself, not to mention her clothing, put the younger girl in mind of a cheerleader--a group of people that Jamie either a) went out of his way to annoy or b) went out of his way to avoid.

"Do you know where Caitie Roth's room is?" The girl continued her questions, and again Jazz was startled. Okay, not only did this girl know her brother, but she came to visit Caitie? Who WAS this person?

"Um...yeah. Who...who ARE you?" Jazz surprised herself by asking. The blonde blinked, and rubbed at her face, her lips trembling.

"I'm Val Linar--Caitie's my best friend." The girl explained, sniffing again. Jazz nodded, still confused.

"Umm...oh." Jazz mouthed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. I thought JAMIE was Caitie's best friend...

"What...what happened to her? All Jamie said was something about stairs, and that she was in the hospital..." Val trailed off again, more tears making their way down her face.

Jazz bit down on her lower lip until she tasted blood. What was she suppose to do know? She felt like she was being pulled in half--on one hand, Val really needed someone to talk to, but on the other...

"Did Jamie tell you anything?" Val questioned, rubbing at her face again. "How did this happen?"

Jazz shifted, trying to decide how much she should tell the distraught girl. Obviously, Val had know idea about the kind of home that Caitie came from. Which really wasn't all that strange, the girl reminded herself, remembering everything that her mother had told her about these kinds of situations.

"Umm...maybe you should sit down?" Jazz suggested softly, gesturing toward the chairs. Val looked at her oddly, but did as the little girl suggested, settling herself into the chair. Something was telling the blonde EMT that whatever this girl had to say was important.

The oldest Waite girl sat down beside Val, and folded her hands in front of her. Okay, now what was she suppose to say? This wasn't just something that she could blurt out. But what could she say?

"What happened to Caitie?" Val asked, giving Jazz the perfect opening. The girl took a deep breath, and started.

"She was...umm...well...thrown down the stairs." Jazz blurted out, and then mentally kicked herself. That's exactly what she said she wasn't going to do!

"Who...who...who did that?" The blonde girl squeaked out, her eyes filling with tears once again.

Jazz chewed on her bottom lip again, before taking a deep breath and pushing on. "Her...her father. Her parents...her parents aren't very nice to her."

Val's face slowly drained of color, and she pressed her hand against her chest for a moment, her lips quivering. Jazz shifted nervously again, wishing that the girl would say something--anything.

"Caitie's...Caitie's parents...no. I mean...that's not possible...I would have...I would have noticed something...I would have SEEN something. She's been my best friend forever...I would have SEEN something..." Val trailed off, putting her hands up to her face.

"It's...it's not always something people notice." Jazz tried to reassure the girl. Val looked over at the younger girl for a moment, her eyes red from crying.

"Your brother knew. You knew."

Jazz fidgeted again, before reaching out and putting a hand on the older girl's arm. "We knew because Jamie told us, that's all."

"But Jamie still knew." Val was still beating herself up over this.

"Jamie only knew because he saw it happen." Jazz again tried to reassure the other girl. Val just shook her head, burying her face in her hands again.

"I just can't believe this." Val whispered again, wiping at the tears on her face.

Jazz was silent for a few minutes, before taking a deep breath. "Maybe you...maybe you should talk to Caitie?"

"I...I know I should...but I...I don't even know what I'd say to her..." The blonde whispered, pushing a lock of her blonde hair out of her face.

"I don't either." Jazz whispered, worrying her bottom lip again. "But...she's your best friend. I bet...I bet you can come up with something."

Val let a shaky smile pull at her lips. "I think you're right."

@-}--}---

Jamie's hands were so warm, Caitie thought to herself sleepily, her eyes fluttering open to look at the young man who was holding her small hand in both of his larger ones. His thumb rubbed small circles on the back of her hand, hard enough to give reassurance, but soft enough not to hurt her.

When he noticed that she was awake, he smiled at her, his dark eyes still nearly black with worry. Reaching out carefully, he brushed a lock of her hair back--and she couldn't help but flinch. Jamie dropped his hand immediately, his gaze suddenly apologetic.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." Jamie was cut off by a knock on the door. The door creaked open, and Val Linar filled the doorway, her bright blue eyes flooded with tears.

"Caitie?" She whispered, looking at her best friend in horror and helplessness. Caitie blinked, and shot a glance at Jamie, before turning her attention back to her best friend.

"Hi Val."

The simple phrase seemed to completely destroy what very little composure Val had left, and tears began to spill down her cheeks in torrents. Caitie was slightly taken aback by the display, and Jamie looked uncomfortable.

"I think I'll...umm...give you guys a little privacy." Jamie decided, gently releasing Caitie's hand and standing up, heading toward the door.

"Okay...thanks." Caitie agreed, as Val took the seat that Jamie had just vacated. The door closed, and the dark haired girl turned her gaze toward Val, shame welling in her chest. Just another way that she wasn't as good as her perfect best friend...

"Oh Caitie...why didn't you...why didn't you tell me?" Val whispered, grabbing her best friend's hand in hers. "And how could I have not have seen the signs? You're my BEST FRIEND...and I didn't...I didn't even realize. I didn't even look...I didn't even THINK...oh Caitie, I'm so sorry." The girl was forced to stop as sobs racked her body.

Caitie bit her bottom lip, and squeezed the other girl's hand. "Val...Val, I'm...I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? For what?" The blonde asked, shaking her head in confusion.

"I don't know...I just...I'm just sorry too, okay? If you get to be sorry for no reason, so do I." She answered, tears of her own welling up in her eyes.

"Caitie...oh God...how long has this been going on?" Val couldn't help but ask, though she really wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer. Caitie shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Always. But it was never this bad before, really. It's gotten so much worse in the past few months--since Halloween, I guess."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Val asked, her voice shaking.

"Because...because I couldn't. I just...I just couldn't. I was afraid...and ashamed...and I didn't want you to treat me differently..." Caitie whispered, looking down, unable to meet her best friend's gaze.

"But...you told Jamie..." Val whispered, then mentally kicked herself--it sounded like she was accusing her!

"Jamie...Jamie saw it happen, I didn't TELL him." Caitie explained herself. A small, sad smile pulled at her lips.

"He doesn't treat--" Val started, but Caitie shook her head, cutting her off.

"He does...you just don't notice it. He's...he's so protective now, and gentle and...never mind." Caitie shook her head again, ending the discussion on Jamie Waite. Now was not the time. "Val...I'm sorry..."

"Don't apologize. You haven't done anything wrong--nothing at all." Val whispered, and again, Caitie couldn't meet her gaze.

"Are you sure? I mean...if I was more like...I don't know...you...so pretty and perfect...maybe..." Caitie trailed off, hating herself for thinking like that. Val made a choked sound in her throat, and threw her arms around her best friend, hugging her as tightly as the girl's injuries would allow.

"Caitie...Caitie don't even think like that! This is not your fault! You're wonderful, just the way you are! It's you're parent's fault, not yours! Not yours at all!" The blonde sobbed again, burying her face in her best friend's dark hair. Caitie hugged back, her tears falling freely.

When both girls were all cried out, they settled back into their respective places, both girls feeling better for their mutual cry. Val was the first to break the comfortable silence.

"So...what happens now?"

"I have no idea." Caitie whispered, a hint of terror coloring her words. "I have no earthly idea."

@-}--}---

Genevieve straightened her shoulders and dusted a speck of imaginary dust off her coat sleeve. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself, thankful that her Cover Girl hid the dark fatigue circles under her eyes.

"Time to go to war." The woman whispered, opening the door of the office building and stepping inside.

The sunlight glinted off the bronze plate as she disappeared into the office.

Maxwell E. Huff, Attorney at Law