A/N: This is my first attempt at TWW fan fic. I know that this is a weird idea for a story but it came to me at work and I couldn't shake it. Please review or send feedback (good or bad) to flotusabbey@hotmail.com.

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, if they were, I wouldn't be a Dairy Fairy at Friendly Fenway.

Dedication: To Auntie Mary, for the good advice that gave me the courage to post this.

Rating: G

When the doctor returned with the test results and that face, the doctor face I had used many, many times myself, I was transported back in time. I was 16 in Manchester again. I took in a sharp breath and Billy squeezed my hand.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. McDaniel," the doctor said. "But it is MS."

I could barely breathe or focus on what the doctor was saying; it was Daddy all over again. I squeezed Billy's hand hard and fought the tears in my eyes.

"I can't cry in front of him," I thought to myself. "Mom never cried in front of Dad, I can't cry in front of Billy."

It was all just like Daddy, relapsing/remitting. It might never progress. We could be just fine. But it didn't make me feel any better. I fully appreciated what my mother went through twenty years ago. The idea that the man I promised to love for the rest of my life being taken away from me was too much to think about. I had to stop thinking about this or I was going to lose it.

We left the doctors office hand in hand. As I got in the driver's seat I wished that someone else was there to drive, neither of us should be behind the wheel. We drove in silence most of the way to Manchester. I don't know what Billy was thinking about, but my mind was on anything but MS. I thought about the clouds and how sunny it was. It seemed strange that it was so warm and sunny, it should have been cold and rainy. No day that brought news this bad should be bright or sunny.

I don't know how we made it back to my parent's house in one piece. I don't remember the drive, just the random thoughts that swirled around my head and kept me from breaking down in tears. I just looked up and we were in my parents' driveway.

"Ellie?" Billy said. "I've been calling your name for five minutes. I don't want to say anything to your parents just yet. I don't want a lot of people to know." I nodded dumbly. He had taken my only way of dealing with this away; I had to talk to my mother. "Don't worry," he continued with a weak smile. "We'll be fine. It's been 20 years since your dad was diagnosed, he's still doing great." I tried to smile back, but I couldn't. With a deep breath, we got out of the car and walked to the front door.

My mother opened the door when we were about halfway up the stairs. I thought at first that she knew something was wrong, but as I got closer I could see that she was grinning. "Get in here," she whispered, herding us through the front door. "You have to see this."

She led us to the living room. We stood outside the door and looked in. My three children were sitting on the floor surrounding my father. Daisy, the oldest, was completely engrossed about what he was lecturing on. She was only 10, but she loved to hear my dad talk about politics or anything else. Steven, at 6, was not as attentive as Daisy. He was rolling his toy cars across the floor, perking up when he heard something that interested him. Baby Lucy was laying on the floor on a blanket. At certain times she would gurgle as if to reinforce the point Dad was trying to make.

One of the unshed tears escaped and made its way down my cheek. I drew in a sharp breath then wiped it away. Mom put her hand on my shoulder and whispered, "What happened this afternoon?"

"I can't tell you now," I whispered back. "Soon."

She nodded knowingly and squeezed my shoulder. "Whatever it is, you'll get through," she said quietly. She hugged me tight and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying. I wanted to tell her so she could give me definite reassurance, not as a doctor but as a wife and mother who had been there before. I smiled at her weakly as I broke the hug and went into the living room. I kissed Dad in the cheek and picked Lucy up.

"Come on kids, time to go home."

"But Mom, I wanna stay here with Grandpa." Daisy whined. "He's telling some really good stories." The whining was what pushed me over the edge.

"Daisy, we are going home now. Stop whining and get your things." My tone of voice was far colder than I wanted it to be. Daisy jumped up immediately and took Steven with her. Dad looked shocked, I never raised my voice to the kids. He got up and watched them scurry out of the room. Billy went with them, taking Lucy as well.

Now that we were alone, Dad wrapped his arms around me and drew me into a protective hug. I cried, for the first time since we heard the news in the same place I had cried 20 years ago: in the living room in Manchester into my daddy's shoulder. Mom slipped in quietly and rubbed my back.

"Did Billy do something to you?" Dad asked. I was sure there was anger in his eyes at the idea of someone hurting one of his girls. I shook my head.

"No," I sniffled. "It's nothing like that. I just can't tell you right now."

I was pretty certain that Mom had figured it out. She looked at Dad and with their way of talking to one another without saying anything, she probably clued him in.

Billy and the kids were coming back downstairs. I hugged them again and told them I loved them. There was something extra in both of their hugs. As I broke the hug with Dad, he whispered in my ear, "You'll get through it."

The kids came back in the room and said goodbye to my parents. Billy handed Lucy to me and gathered up the kids' bags from their sleepover at Grandma and Grandpa's and we walked out to the car. As we walked to the car Daisy fell into step beside me.

"Mom, I'm sorry I gave you a hard time about leaving."

"I'm sorry I yelled."

I put Lucy in her carseat and helped Steven buckle. As I climbed behind the wheel I looked back at the house. My parents were standing on the front porch. Dad had his arm around Mom's shoulder and they both waved as we drove away. Looking in the mirror I could see that they were still standing there. I wanted to turn around and go back there. I could tell them what had happened and then they would fix it.

But I couldn't turn around. I had to stay here and be the strong one for Billy and Daisy and Steven and Lucy. It was my job to fix it now. That terrified me too. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I could do it, I could fix it. This wasn't all that new to me, now I had simply moved up from being a kid and being the one who was crying, to the Mom who dried the tears. I just hoped that I would be as good am my mom.