The plow had come and gone, passing the Brisby home without incident, except for the fact that it took an entire day to clean up the dirt loosened by the vibrations. Two weeks had passed since the rats' departure, and since then most of the other animals had also left. Even Aunties Shrew had left for her spring home, but Elizabeth hadn't gathered her children for the move, not yet. Something in the back of her mind was making her wait; she didn't know what, or why. After all, this time of year they always went back to their home in the forest. It was a fun, joyous occasion because it meant warmer weather, and much better food than old corn. But for some reason, this year was different. Her children realized this as well, though they never admitted it. They just waited for their mother to say when it was time.

Eventually, Elizabeth came to the conclusion that she didn't want to leave because of the memories she had: the haunting ones of her late husband, refreshed by the rats, and the new ones that filled her. She felt torn, like she was betraying Jonathan's memory by having feelings for Justin. It had taken so long to get over Jon's death, and learning the truth behind it had only hurt more. She'd felt lost without him, but the crisis with Timothy had made her realize he could no longer help her, that she would have to do everything herself. Nevertheless, she'd kept thinking, what would Jonathan do, instead of what should I do.

The realization had come to her, though, almost a year after he'd died, the day she and the shrew had sabotaged the tractor. Even now, Elizabeth didn't know what had come over her. She was usually terrified of the thing, but on that day, she'd felt as though it'd been coming after her, that she had to stand up to it until one of them backed down. The feeling she'd afterward was one she had trouble describing to herself. It was almost catharsis, like absolution or vindication. The words seemed right, but at the same time they didn't. It was almost as though she'd been in mourning for so long, holding on to her husband's memory, his spirit. But then his spirit had let her go, as though saying, it's time for you to do this. Be brave, because I know you can.

Then the mournful feelings she'd had, the sinking in her heart, the bewildering thoughts had all just disappeared, as if blown away by the wind. It felt like getting smacked in the face and waking up to a new day, completely refreshed. She felt confident for once, and that confidence had been growing in small, sure steps, until she'd learned the truth of Jon's death, and his dark secret. Again the world had crashed around her, but that time Justin had been there to guide her, had given her something to grasp in the midst of the storm. With his help she'd come through with a courage she'd never known she'd possessed. She was sure she'd never had it all, that in fact Justin had given it to her, but either way she felt determined. She was going to dictate her family's future and nothing was going to stop her, not Jenner, not the farmer, and especially not NIMH.

After the move, Elizabeth had taken to sitting on the large stone her house rested under, gazing out at the farm, lost in her thoughts. She thought about the eventual move of her family, the rats, and the plow. She thought about many things, but mostly of Justin, and whether or not she'd made the right choice. The rats had left a few things for her, mostly clothing and books for the children, a kind and selfless gesture, and it was the books that made her question her decision.

The children had never read anything, other than what their father had brought them. Elizabeth had never thought about it before, but after they'd attacked the books like cats catching rabbits, she'd felt foolish for not doing anything sooner. Her children's minds were developing and they craved information. The new books had been fresh food to a starving animal. They'd read them over and over, learning every word, reminding her that she could never supply what they needed: an education that fulfilled the potential of their minds. They had Jonathan's intelligence, his desire to learn, and she felt that by having them live as normal mice the rest of their lives, she was denying them of their right to learn, to be who they truly were. She envied their intelligence and their ability to learn so fast.

And, of course, she thought of Justin, so often that he appeared in her dreams. Usually in these dreams they would talk, but there were times when they'd be together, and they wouldn't say anything. In others he read to her children, or she would relive their times in the rosebush, and there were even some that had them making love, sweet, passionate love.

Elizabeth longed to hear his voice again. Their time together had been very brief, but it had been enough, for both of them, she believed, to fall in love. She recalled the moments repeatedly in her mind; going over every word uttered, every move made, every moment frozen in time. But what stuck out most was when they'd said goodbye, when they'd kissed. They'd both been through hell, and had been there for each other in the end. The feelings expressed, and the ones that needn't be spoken had been there. The moment was theirs and theirs alone, but that didn't mean she didn't treasure their other times together as well.

There was that first encounter with Ages, in the beautifully lit hallways beneath the rosebush. She remembered being afraid of him, still disturbed after being attacked by Brutus, and for a split second had thought he was Brutus, then realized he wasn't nearly as big, or as mean. Within a few seconds she'd gone from total fright to total captivation, having been mesmerized by his smooth, commanding voice, and his dark, ocean-like eyes. She remembered stumbling over her words, pretending to describe the lights of the rosebush, when her description had actually been about him.

She remembered hanging on his every word, as they'd continued into the bush on their way to the council chamber, her first run-in with Jenner when she'd been completely charmed by Justin's ability to get a laugh from everyone at Jenner's expense. She'd only been thrilled further when Justin had come to her aide in convincing the rats to help her. He'd only known her a few minutes, but he'd helped anyway. Then later had been their short boat ride beneath the mill. She'd felt overwhelmed by Nicodemus' presence, but she'd felt Justin's presence as well, and had been touched when he'd tried to protect her by saying the mission to drug Dragon was too dangerous for her.

After that had been their briefer encounter under the farmhouse, before she'd been trapped. He'd mostly said words to fill her with confidence, though she still wasn't sure he'd been convinced she could pull off the task. She'd been a little embarrassed, undressing in front of him, though at the same time it had felt strangely erotic. Of course, it'd been a completely inappropriate time to harbor such thoughts, especially with the dire straits at hand, but she couldn't help it. She also liked the idea of having those thoughts with him again, and soon.

Then there were the volatile moments, after she'd escaped and tried to warn the rats about NIMH. Her world had become a terrifying nightmare when Jenner attacked her. He'd been so huge, quick, and ruthless, she'd immediately felt she'd die by his hands. But then Justin had come to her rescue, fending off the crushing blows of Jenner's blade with a simple staff, only to fight for his own life in their sword duel. Then, he'd immediately risked his life again, attempting to save her children from the sinking block. Only when all seemed lost did he give up, preventing her from killing herself as well.

But aside from their kiss, the moment she recalled most was their stay in the library, as she'd waited to meet Nicodemus. At that moment, she'd been dealing with duel emotions; she was frightened about the unknown fate of her family, but also astonished and bewildered, experiencing the size and complexity of the rosebush. Here was something she saw every day and thought little-to-nothing about, never guessing what actually lay beneath it. Sure, she'd known the rats were up to some strange things, but that's what she always remembered: the farmer's wife doing laundry, Dragon either sleeping or eating, and the plow. Then there was the rosebush and the strange rats that stole extension cords from the farmer.

Now inside, she was feeling the impact of knowing what really went on, and the stop in the library was the first chance she'd had to catch her breath, to take it all in. The vast room was dimly lit, a little chilly, and very quiet. It was mostly empty, except for a young rat reading a book. There were also several whose presence she sensed, though she couldn't see them. Justin led her to a table, offering her a seat on the bench.

"So, what do you think of our home?" he asked, sitting down. His voice was quiet, but the young rat shot a piercing glance their way, though after that she appeared to just ignore them.

Elizabeth paused, trying to find words that described how she felt. "I…I had no idea it was this big…" she instantly felt foolish. He must think me childish now.

"It is pretty amazing," he said. "Even to me sometimes."

"Surely you've gotten used to it by now." Again, she felt foolish, wishing she'd had said something more…intellectual.

"Well, I'm used to some of it," he continued. "But I still think about what it was like before, and it really stuns me, how far we've come."

"You say you've had electricity for five years?"

"Yeah, about five, I guess. That's what Ages says, anyway." He shrugged. "It sounds about right, but it seems a very long time. It's hard to imagine that, in the past, we stumbled around in the dark until we memorized the paths. Sometimes we used torches, but those were dangerous, because of the smoke." He sat for a moment, a distant look on his face. Elizabeth detected nostalgia in his eyes, also traces of sadness. He continued before she could ask, though. "It was a total accident we found this bush. We were on the move and didn't know where we were headed. It was late when we stopped to rest on this farm, then Nicodemus realized we could make it our home." He paused again, shaking his head. "God, that seems so long ago—I haven't thought about that night for years."

"I understand how you feel," she said at length. "It's only been a year since Jon died, but it feels like a lifetime ago—almost like someone else's life." She was surprised at how easily she could talk about her husband's death with him. The subject usually brought her great sadness, but not with Justin; perhaps because, in a far-off kind of way, he reminded her of Jonathan.

"I can tell you really loved him."

"Yes, I did," she said simply, then paused for a long time. "The first few months were very hard. I felt so…lost, alone." She paused again, looking at him, still shocked with the ease of saying the words. "He was so smart—it was almost fascinating, watching him think to himself as he taught the children. He taught me too, but mostly the children. He used to say it was easier with them because I was too stubborn." She laughed at the memory, then bit her lip. "I miss him."

"Mrs. Brisby," he said, looking very solemn. "I understand all too well how you feel." He laughed and looked at the ceiling, his eyes starting to water. He waited long before he spoke, as though thinking of what to say. "I had a wife once, years back—her name was Selina. She died though, while in labor."

"Oh no," Mrs. Brisby covered her mouth. "Did the baby live?"

He slowly shook his head. "No, she didn't—we didn't have a chance. It was dark, storming out, and we barely found shelter for her. Brutus and I had to carry her because she couldn't walk anymore…"

She reached out to hold his hand. "Justin, I am so sorry."

"Hey, now," he put his hand over hers. "Don't worry about me; it was a long time ago, and right now we should be thinking of you. But you shouldn't worry—once you talk to Nicodemus, you'll see that everything is fine."

"Who's Nicodemus?"

"Well, where do I begin with that one?" his voice was light again. "Nicodemus is our leader, but he's also more than that. He's wise, very wise, and the oldest of all of us. I guess that helps him, you know? You have to be old to be wise."

She laughed at his words, once more reminded of Jonathan. "Can he really help my family and I?"

Justin gripped her hand firmly. "If anything can be done, Nicodemus will know." They sat in silence a while, looking at each other. "You're a very beautiful young lady…Mrs. Brisby."

Her face grew warm as she blushed. "Justin, I don't know what-"

He suddenly seemed embarrassed. He pulled his hand away, looking to the side. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

"Justin, no," she said, touching his hand again. "I don't mind. It's just…it's been so long since someone said that to me. I'm flattered—really."

"Still, I shouldn't have." He looked back at her. "I let my emotions get the better of me."

"I think everyone should let their emotions speak sometimes," she said. "They say what we really mean."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Well, right now, what do your emotions tell you?"

She began blushing again. "Well, they tell me that, although you appear to be very charming and cavalier on the outside, that you also have a sensitive side. I believe you'll be a husband again, and a father."

"Really?" he asked. "What makes you say that?"

"I don't know really…it's just a feeling." She laughed shyly. "You're very open, and…handsome."

"Handsome?" he said, making her blush again.

"Y-Yes…" she paused. "Now, tell me what your emotions tell you."

"My emotions," he said slowly. "Hmmm, well, I think that, once you set your mind to a goal, nothing can stop you. I think you're braver than you may realize."

"Brave? Oh, no, not me."

"Yes, you," he took her hand again, covering it with his own. "Don't discourage yourself. I believe in you."

She looked up at him. "Oh, Justin-"

She was cut off by Ages' abrupt entrance. "Mrs. Brisby," he said gruffly. "Come with me. Nicodemus will see you now."

"Time to go," Justin said, somewhat sadly. Elizabeth didn't notice.

"Oh, t-thank you for keeping me company…"

He stood, bowing gracefully. "Mrs. Brisby, it was my pleasure."

"Whenever you're ready," Ages said, irritated.

(****)

That was it, they'd connected. That small conversation had been enough to plant feelings in both of them. What she had felt was the long-lost sweetness of falling in love. It was happening so fast, it almost didn't make sense, but because of that it did make sense. It made sense to her, anyway. She couldn't explain it, it was just there. The feelings and emotions toward Justin were expanding like fire through her; it didn't matter that he was a rat, or that he lived within a strange society, or that she'd only known him for what felt like minutes. There was something about him that just seemed so right, and it was something she still felt after his departure.

And now she missed him, just as she'd missed Jonathan after his death, only with Justin, she missed his memories, what possibilities she could've had with him. Those possibilities were often explored in her dreams, and the dreams she liked most were those where they made love. She'd awoken from them more than once, sweating a bit as she tried to catch her breath. They were just so passionate, the images so vivid that they just made her miss him more. She missed the comfort of her husband. She'd used to take the feeling of someone lying next to her for granted, but now she realized how much she wanted that feeling, as well as the inspiration that came from being in love. The confidence and support were irreplaceable. She longed for the subtle feeling of someone else touching her skin, or holding her hand—especially the way Justin held her hand. She wanted them back, and she had them briefly in her dreams.

She had no idea how he'd really behave in bed, but in her dreams he was very gentle, treated her like a delicate flower. He was always silent, except for his breathing, which grew more intense as they progressed. His hands were soft, but firmly held her body to his. She could feel the strong muscles in his back, his shoulders, his chest. But the most intense part of the dream was his eyes. They never left hers, and always showed deep concentration, expressed every emotion. Then they would close as he concentrated intensely for the climax. But then it would all be gone.

Elizabeth snapped awake from her daydream, slightly panting. Looking down from her vantage point on the stone, she could see all four of her children relaxing on the ground below, not far from the house. Timothy had recovered almost immediately after the house was moved, instead of taking three weeks. She knew the time would soon come for them to move, but she was torn. The children needed an education only the rats could provide, yet she didn't want them going through the shock of such a large change. What to do?

It was midmorning. They skies were cloudy, as they had been for what seemed weeks. NIMH had arrived mere hours after the rats had left, and were still on the farm. The rosebush had been torn out and discarded, then the scientists had proceeded to rip into the ground, uncovering tunnels, including a long one the rats had used as a diversion, making it look as though they were ordinary creatures fleeing from their discovered home.

She wasn't able to hear all of what they said, but she'd managed to learn that the scientist in charge was named Valentine, and he kept referring to his superior, a person named Schultz. "Schultz wants results." "Schultz doesn't want to hear that." He would say over and over as the two men with him investigated the rats' former home. Elizabeth also noticed the men from NIMH seemed to be hiding something from the farmer, acting as though the Fitzgibbons' were in their way. She could tell from the farmer's body language and demeanor that he was growing irritated by the scientists' presence. But whenever he'd complain about their extended stay, Valentine would say, "Please, Mr. Fitzgibbons; it's all in the name of science."

"Well forget your science," Fitzgibbons responded. "What about in the name of my damn yard?"

Then his wife would usually step in, telling her husband to just let them work, and that it would only delay them further if he kept interrupting them. Valentine and his men all looked the same to Elizabeth: strong, with piercing eyes and buzz cuts, working in khakis that would always be filthy by the day's end. They operated out of a mobile home parked on the farmer's property. Elizabeth watched them vaguely from the stone. Valentine and one of his men were talking about a sample of dirt, the farmer and his son off near the tractor shed. She noticed Fitzgibbons keeping an eye on the scientists as well.

The third man burst from the woods, running directly to his leader. He leaned close, speaking rapidly, too quietly for the mouse to hear, though she was very interested now. Valentine apparently approved of what he'd said, patting him on the back. "Good work," she barely heard him say, then Valentine got out his cell phone, speaking excitedly. Elizabeth still couldn't hear what they said, but the farmer sure could.

The second Valentine shoved his phone away, Fitzgibbons stormed in his face. "No, you will not be spending any more time here!" he shouted angrily, obviously reacting to something he'd heard Valentine say. "I'm sick and tired of you and your truck tearing up my property!"

"Mr. Fitzgibbons," the scientist said calmly. "You were told this would take time, and after all, we did exterminate the rats for you."

"You didn't exterminate shit!" yelled the farmer. "All you did was run them off! And now I'm going to run you off!"

Elizabeth had never seen the man so upset.

"Mr. Fitzgibbons, I implore you-"

"I don't care what you do, as long as it consists of you leaving." He stabbed Valentine's chest with his finger, to which the scientist didn't react. "Now, will you leave peacefully, or will the sheriff have to remove you for trespassing?"

Valentine was silent, then nodded sharply to his men. They packed their equipment quickly and climbed back in the RV. Valentine then leaned close to Fitzgibbons, saying something too low for Elizabeth to hear, afterward getting in the truck and starting it up. They were gone within minutes. Fitzgibbons ran a hand hard down his face.

"God dammit!" he shouted, relieved the men had left, then went back inside the house. Elizabeth was relieved too. The men from NIMH gave her chills, especially Valentine. He seemed especially cold and calculating, more machine than he was human. She disliked them all, glad they were finally gone. Far in the distance, a freight whistle sounded, reminding her of the train tracks that ran near the farm. Trains could always be heard going by, and she remembered Jeremy telling her he lived in a tree just on the other side of the bridge. He said he'd be there if she ever needed help, and she got an idea as the dust kicked up by the RV settled, scrambling down the stone to get her children.

(****)

"But, what do you want the note to say, mom?"

Timothy sat with her at the kitchen table, a pencil in one hand, a blank piece of paper in front of him.

"I don't know," she said. "Tell…Tell them-address it to Justin-but tell them that…" she stopped, trying to find the best way to put it.

"Why don't I just say, 'The men from NIMH have left, everything's okay here'?"

"You're being impatient, Timmy," she scolded him.

"Awe, c'mon, mom," he said. "That's basically what you want the note to say, isn't it? Or…was there something else you had in mind?"

She gasped sharply, blushing as she tried to relax. "No, you're right, yes. Put down what you said, but make it sound…oh, I don't know-"

"Intelligent?" he said for her. The word had been her obsession the last two weeks.

She sighed. "Yes, intelligent," she conceded.

Timothy's hand moved impossibly fast, faster than hers ever could. "There."

"Read it to me," she said.

He gave her an annoyed glance. "You should be practicing too, you know."

"Timothy, just read me the letter," she told him. "I'll practice later, I promise. I just want to get it to Jeremy before it gets much later."

He continued watching her, then, "Dear Justin, I'm speaking on behalf of my family, Martin, Teresa, Cynthia, and my mother, Elizabeth. We wanted to send you our thoughts, and hope you made it to your new home safely. We also wanted to inform you that the men from NIMH have left the farm, and hopefully none of us will be bothered by them again; signed, Timothy Brisby."

"Excellent." Elizabeth took the note from him, scanning it for herself. She recognized the letters, making out most of the words, but not going over it. Instead, she trusted her son had read it word for word.

"Are you taking it to Jeremy now?" he asked.

"Yes, I-"

"Can I come?"

"Of course you cannot, young man," she began. "You need to stay here, and-"

"I know, I know."

"Timothy," her tone was apologetic, as she ran her nails through his hair. "Someday-"

"I'll understand, I know; you told me."

"I must go," she kissed his cheek and rushed out the door. After telling Martin to keep an eye on things, promising she wouldn't be too long, Elizabeth took off, speeding in the direction of Jeremy's home with note in hand.

On the way to Jeremy's was the bridge, a concrete monolith that spanned a small valley between two hills. Underneath it ran tracks, the bridge itself for an older set of tracks no longer in use. It stretched almost a hundred feet from end to end, not much for a human, but a long distance for a mouse her size. The bridge, like anything man-made, frightened her. They were all just so alien. The bridge had a small lip, a two-foot wide ledge that the animals used to cross. The tracks running across it had eroded from ages of disuse. Loose gravel, splintered wood, and tall grass growing between the planks made it difficult for anything to cross the main part. And when the new tracks had been built, much of the hillside had been cut away, making room for trains to come through. This made it impossibly steep for animals to cross, and circumventing took almost a half hour. The ledge was the fastest, the only way to get across.

She'd paused at the edge, staring at it when a gust of wind prodded her forward. She gripped the letter tightly, venturing out slowly, staying as far away from the edge as she could. Once her feet had settled on the concrete, she could feel it vibrating beneath her. Halfway across, the vibrations grew stronger, the hill violently shaking. The scream of a freight whistle made her gasp in terror, freeze in panic. The ground began shuddering, making her feel like the world was dropping out from beneath her. She looked back, wanting to turn around, realizing it was a stupid idea. She needed to cross this bridge. The train's roar grew louder, the ground trembling more than ever, but she somehow found herself putting one foot in front of the other, slowly but surely crossing the bridge.

Then the whistle howled like a demon, it's echoing bellow shaking every bone in her body, the train screaming to life beneath her. It was impossibly loud, tearing its path through the earth, the ground rocking so mightily that the suction of air pulled her from the ledge. Screaming, the mother mouse caught herself on the precipice, frozen in terror, watching the great metal beast burrow through beneath her, shaking her entire universe. Clenching her eyes shut, she pulled her body back up, going blindly until she felt the wall at her back. There she crouched, head held between her knees, and waited for the creature to pass.

After an impossibly long time, the shaking stopped, and the hulking train moved on its way. Elizabeth was panting, nearly hyperventilating. She'd used all her self-control to stay calm and still, and now she released it all. She gasped for breath, her eyes snapping open, hands and body trembling uncontrollably.

"Stop it," she said to herself, trying to get control. "Stop it!" she got down on her hands and knees, putting her forehead to the ground, trying to settle her nerves. She soon calmed to the point of control, willing herself the rest of the distance.

(****)

"This is very important, Jeremy," she said when she reached him.

"Hey, whatever you need," the bird said heroically. "You can count on me!"

"Good, now, do you remember where I told you Thorn Valley was?"

"Where 'you told me?'" he said. "Mrs. B, I knew where it was before anyone even knew it was there. Why, I-"

"Okay, I believe you," she said quickly. "But you do remember exactly where it is, don't you?"

"Do I know exactly where," he mumbled sarcastically. "Do fish swim and birds fly and…and, uh…"

"Now, do you remember where I said the rats would be?"

"What rats?"

She shot him a deadly stare.

"Ohhh, those rats," he winked. "Yeah, yeah, I remember right where you told me they were."

"Good, good, now, I need you to fly there and give this message to a rat named Justin."

"Wait, wait, wait," he shook his head. "You want me to fly to Thorn Valley…today?"

"How long will it take you?"

"Oh… uh, I don't know…less than a day, back and forth."

"So is it a problem?" she batted her eyelashes and spoke almost seductively. "This would mean an awful lot to me."

He thought as long as he could, which was about five seconds. "Well, why not? Like I said, Ms. B, anything for you, though I don't think the Mrs. will like the idea."

"Oh, I'm sure she'll understand, and I'm sure I could come up with some string to compensate you…hmm?" she fluttered her lashes, voice almost seductive.

"Say no more!" he smiled. "Now, where's that note, before I change my mind?"

"Here," she handed it to him. "Now, remember, be very careful."

"Of course, I'll be careful." He tucked it away. "You can count on, uh…me."

And with a flutter of black feathers, he was gone.

Before she'd entrusted Timothy's letter, Elizabeth had taken it out, as well as a pencil she'd snuck out of the house. Her children didn't know, but she'd been practicing her writing ever since her encounter with the Rats of NIMH. She'd taken the pencil and concentrated, hard, on five words she'd scrawled unevenly across the page. It had taken almost a minute to write them out, but she'd been proud once she'd finished, "I miss you, Justin." And below it, she'd signed her first name, that word the one she'd been most proud of.