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Grains of sand forming rolling planes and dunes went on endlessly before her, grains ever shifting against each other.

She tried to move, but was stuck.

In the distance, she saw a sandstorm forming. The circle of wind whipped up the grains at an ever increasing pace, headed toward her.

She had to get away.

Turning, she could already feel the sand at her back, tearing into her skin like shards of glass. Lifting her arms, but unable to do so, she faced the sandstorm head on...

... and was in a world of pain.

Struggling to open her eyes, Betty looked around blearily. Everything was fuzzy and somewhere in the back of her mind she wished for her glasses.

Determined to move, she placed her hands on the bed she seemed to be on and attempted to push in order to sit upright.

A flash of pain centred on her stomach and she fell back against the pillows gasping. Naturally moving her hand to the source of pain, she took in heaving breaths.

It took a few moments more to break out of her haze and realise that something was different.

Looking down at her body, sight over the short distance possible, she discovered that her stomach was distended and rather, well, swollen.

She released her hand, as if it burned.

What was going on?

Struggling to stay in control, Betty sucked in deep breathes as she frantically searched her memory, but could not find any recollection of falling pregnant.

Lifting her left hand, wincing at the pain, she discovered a ring there.

An irrational part of her mind was satisfied amongst all the confusion: at least this child wasn't going to be born out of wedlock.

Hysteria swiftly overtook this realisation as she looked around desperately for something familiar – something she knew.

White walls were on one side, dull sunlight filtering through a window.

Turning her head, grunting as her stiff muscles protested, she found a sleeping form seated on the chair beside her bed.

She may have been sans glasses, but she could recognise her boss any day.

Daniel Meade.

He must have sensed her, or maybe she had said those words aloud, for the very man then opened his eyes.

He seemed to be struggling to focus before his eyes connected with hers and he flew up in the chair. Suddenly standing beside her, his hands were instantly caressing her face.

"You're awake."

Trying to say something, to ask a question about just what had happened to her – in more ways than one – she found that she could not form words, her sore muscles protesting.

His keen eyes read her desire to speak as he instantly ordered her not to.

He left her for a moment then – a moment that left her feeling strangely bereft – as she heard him gleefully call for a nurse, before he was back at her side in an instant.

His hand slipped to her very pregnant belly then. Needing physical contact in all this confusion, and fearing what she didn't know, but knowing him, she grasped at his hand desperately.

His warm hand enveloped hers as he spoke. "She's okay," he said softly, and Betty could have sworn there were tears in his eyes. "You're both going to be okay."

Wondering at why he was so emotional, Betty was distracted when the nurse stepped into the room.

"Well Mrs Meade," said the tall woman in a no nonsense tone. "So nice of you to join us in the land of the living once again."

Drawing her eyes from her boss's magnetic blue counterpart, she looked around confused. Claire Meade was here?

She must have looked peculiar, for Daniel Meade drew his attention back to him with a soft squeeze of her hand, his brow furrowing. "Betty?"

It sunk in.

She was Mrs Meade.

The nurse was talking to her.

It suddenly became too much as she took her hand back from her boss, placing them beside her body as she fiercely gripped the sheets.

"Betty?"

This time she could talk. "I don't remember."

"Betty?" asked the nurse quickly of her patient. "What year is it?"

"2002."

She heard the sharp intake of breath. Desperate to know, she begged the nurse. "What year is it?"

The woman seemed reluctant to answer. Turning to her boss, she begged of him. "Mr Meade?" She saw his wince of pain and swiftly changed her mode of address. "Daniel?"

He looked her in the eye, not without a trace of sorrow. "It's 2012."

Betty was stunned.

She'd lost ten years of her life.

She vaguely heard the nurse request to speak with Daniel – her husband her mind chastised – outside and vaguely registered that he pressed a kiss to her forehead before departing, a move that seemed to natural.

Alone in the room, she looked dumbly down at the biggest shock of all: she was pregnant... with her boss's child.

Carefully flexing her fingers and lifting her hands from the sheets, she gingerly placed a hand on the taut skin.

And then it happened.

Just a small movement... a little kick... a touch to her hand...

The baby had moved.

She found herself with tears running down her face, and it was at this moment that Hilda stepped in the door. Betty turned to the woman she could never forget.

"Betty!" cried Hilda in alarm. Moving to the bed, she plopped herself unceremoniously on the edge and leaned in to give her sister a fierce hug.

It hurt, but Betty didn't care, gripping her sister with all the strength she had, relishing the familiar.

When she eased back, breathing heavily, Hilda reached for the glasses on the side table. Betty took them gracefully, her muscles protesting as everything became clearer again.

"Are you okay?"

"I... I don't know," she whimpered, hating how weak she sounded.

"You're going to be fine," the tall woman responded confidently. "All of you."

She didn't know.

"Hilda-" She tried to explain but was interrupted when her father stepped in the door...

"Mija!"

... and he wasn't alone.

There was a baby in his arms, a little white bandage adorning his forehead, and Betty had a sinking feeling that the child wasn't Hilda's.

Slipping into shock, she found herself shutting down. Headed for a panic attack, she vaguely registered the baby crying. She could vaguely sense Hilda rubbing her back in soothing motions as she took gulping breaths.

When the door opened again, she looked fearfully at what the new arrival would bring.

And when the baby lunged toward the man with a cry of "Da!", Betty turned and promptly threw up.

The first thing she saw next was the uncertainty on Daniel's face. Regaining control, if only to make him feel better, she looked at the child in his arms – clearly her child too.

"What's his name?"

Daniel responded softly. "His name is Caleb."

The baby, recognising his name, beamed at her. "Ma!"

Betty was jolted at the declaration of ownership. Gingerly stretching out, she reached for the baby.

Her child.

Daniel stepped forward and gently placed the baby on the edge of the bed. He kept a careful hand steady as the little boy scrambled up closer toward her.

Betty found little arms encircling her neck as Caleb positioned himself around her, burying his face into his neck, his little legs resting above her distended belly in a position he was clearly used to.

She had no idea how she'd ended up like this, but embracing the small, warm, solid body in her arms, this was the first time she felt she could handle it.

Reaching out a hand to Daniel – her husband – she gripped it firmly when he took it.

The momentous events coming to a head, she fell asleep with her baby on her chest, her husband holding tight and her family watching on.


It had been the longest 24 hours of his life.

When Daniel Meade had received the phone call from the police to say that his pregnant wife and child had been in a car accident, innocent bystanders to an armed robbery, he feared his world would crumble.

He'd arrived at the hospital to discover that his son was okay, miraculously with only a bump to his head, but that his wife was unconscious.

He'd been waiting, refusing to eat, drink or even consider the notion of going home, waiting for her to wake up.

Only when she had, she hadn't remembered him.

It had hurt more than anything he thought could: the prospect that he would be the only one with their shared memories heartbreaking.

She'd fallen asleep again some hours ago, after meeting her son for the first time all over again. He'd sent Caleb home with Hilda and Ignacio as he prepared to see another sleepless night through.

Entwining his fingers within hers, his thumb caressed the simply wedding ring she'd insisted on having, Betty to the end.

Lost in memories of their wedding day, he was startled when he felt his lover twisting and turning on the bed, as if in the midst of a nightmare.

Instantly upright, he tried to soothe her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's okay Betty," he whispered. "Wake up sweetheart."

She came awake with a start, the eyes locked on his full of fear.

He was taken aback by the emotion.

"Where's Caleb?" her voice rasped. "Is he okay?"

Elation flooded through his veins as tears pooled in his eyes. She remembered.

"He's fine," he reassured her, unable to keep the emotion from his voice. "Only a scratch to his head. He's with your father and sister."

He could sense her relief, before tension set in again as she moved her hand to her swollen belly where their unborn child lay. "And...?"

He covered her hand with his. "She's okay," he choked. "We're all going to be okay."

Tears running down his face, he leaned in and hugged Betty fiercely as she lifted his arms toward him. Nose buried in her hair, he marvelled that his wife always made him feel better.

Seated beside her not long after, close as he could be, his forehead touching hers, he was loathe to be parted from her as she spoke.

"What did I miss?"


A little something for the Betty and Daniel fans out there.