A/N: In England, the penalty for GBH is generally life, if it comes under section 18 of the Crimes against the person Act, 1861. This would be most cases. Unfortunately I could not find anything on the USA's take on this, much less California state law, so I am following this sentence for James. Also, he would get life under US law for raping Sonny, if it could be proven. Possession of heroin: five years imprisonment by US law. Grounds for divorce: at fault. Child abuse: life sentence also.

Part one: Sonny

I sit there, shaking, as we wait to go into the courtroom. I can't wait for this to be over, but I don't want to have to face the man I've been living in fear of for so long. Oh, how I wish divorce could be done easily. He can have everything, if he wants, I don't even need him to go to prison. I just want my daughter, Chad and I to be able to move on and never have to see him again. Out of our lives for good.

These past few months, leading up to the divorce, had been a mixture of bliss and hell. Chad arranged for my lawyer to meet with James' lawyer to sort out the terms of the divorce, saying that I didn't care what happened as long as I got my daughter. Mr Hadley didn't like it but he'd done it. We've got DNA proof that Claire is Chad's and Claire, after getting to know him, positively adores him. We've moved into his apartment and Claire has received a beautiful room. She helped choose the decorations herself. One bright yellow wall, one bright green, one bright blue and the last white with multi-coloured circles of different sizes painted straight on. The carpet and furniture are all white (which wasn't my idea. A five-year-old girl who likes to draw on the floor with a white carpet? Nuh-uh) but all the accessories are various fluorescent colours. It suits my little girl's bright personality perfectly, and she keeps it clean and flawless, since she doesn't want to ruin it.

I, on the other hand, am the shell of the person I once was. My big laugh is gone, I don't ever truly smile and I'm quiet and reclusive. Even I see the change. And it pushes me to the edge. Chad tells me he loves me but it's not me, it's the eighteen-year-old girl he dated and now he's gotten this horrible, limp, lifeless person who has the shadow of that happy and carefree girl cast upon her face. I keep waiting for him to turn me out onto the streets but instead he's calm and patient with me, like he's waiting for Sonny to come out whilst Allison sits in her place. I want to tell him that she's not coming back but I can't because it's so nice to feel loved and wanted and appreciated and I love him back even though I don't know how to let him in and I don't deserve him because I'm a horrible mother who couldn't keep her daughter safe from a big, bad bully who's just walked through the door.

Oh, shit.

I shrink back, into the wall behind me and Chad grabs my hand, whispering soothing thoughts into my ear. He's rubbing Claire's back with his other hand as she burrows her face into his leg. Not one of us looks at him, we all act like we're completely unaware of his existence but I see him sneer at us and make motions to come towards us. A police escort stops him. Wait, a police escort?

Furiously, I turn to Chad, 'You said – you said! –' I accuse.

'I had to, Sonny. He hurt you, and Claire, and if I didn't what would stop him from tracking you down and doing it again? I couldn't just leave him out there for him to hurt someone, whenever he wants! He needs help. Sonny, listen to me!'

I shake my head, still angry and upset that Chad has betrayed me like this and he takes me into his arms, like he does so often now, until I calm down. He kisses my hair and strokes my back and I feel my breathing return to normal.

'Sorry,' I mumble into his chest, 'You're right.'

'Of course I'm right, I'm Chad Dylan Cooper,' he says gently. I hear the smile in his voice and pull back.

'Okay. Let's do this. I'm ready,' I say, bracing myself.

'We can't yet, we have to wait for the judge to call us, remember?'

'I know. But hopefully it won't be too long…' I look at the door anxiously, and just like in the movies, a voice calls us in.

Part two: Claire

I hold my new Daddy's hand tightly as we walk into a bid, old fashioned room. It looks a bit like a Church. There are rows of seats, and a big desk up at the front with a man wearing a silly wig is sitting down. Daddy leads me into one of the rows as Mommy goes to sit up front with that man who often wears a suit (but today is wearing a funny black robe) who has been visiting us a lot recently to talk about old Daddy and me and other grown-up stuff.

'Is Mommy doing a reading, Daddy?' I ask. When we go to Church, occasionally, the person doing a reading sits up front. I'm confused, because it's a Friday afternoon and normally Church is on a Sunday morning, and besides, this isn't even our Church.

'No, you know Mr Hadley who's been coming for tea a lot? Well, he's sorting out Mommy's separation from your old…Daddy,' Daddy swallows and even I hear the pause in his voice. 'It's so that she can stay living with me.'

I nod, understanding now. I've been left to my own devices recently because of Mr Hadley so it's a good job I'm a good girl otherwise there'd be trouble. Some of my friends are very naughty behind their parent's backs.

The old man with the wig starts talking nonsense and I tune out. I start to imagine my own world, like I often do, and wish I'd brought some paper to draw on so that I could show Mommy and Daddy. I imagine this Church-room as a fairy palace, with leaves growing up the wood panelling and flowers instead of a ceiling. Wings sprout from my back and my white dress is made from daisies. In my head I'm soaring up, casting spells and turning Hollywood, where we live, into real holly-wood. Our home becomes a tree, where we live at the top (of course my room stays the same. Duh!) and my best friend Lily's house becomes a mushroom. It's exciting.

'Claire, I know you're bored but please, stop fidgeting. You can pretend without moving. It's called wooden acting,' Daddy whisper-smiles at me. I like Daddy. He plays let's pretend for a job! Wouldn't that be exciting to do, every day? I think I might like to write the stories he pretends are real. Writing and drawing are fun.

I alter back to reality and I look at Daddy's watch. The big hand is at the one and the small hand is at the four. I frown, figuring it out. Daddy told me how time works the other day. So it's… one past four? I shake my head, to rid myself of confusing thoughts like time and listen to what wig-man is saying.

'So, Ms Munroe, you want full custody of your daughter? And why is it that Mr Conroy cannot see her?'

'Your honour,' Mr Hadley stands up, 'Mr Conroy is awaiting trial for GBH, child abuse, rape and drug trafficking. He cannot possibly care for a child if he is in prison!'

Daddy smiles fleetingly.

'You sound confident he will be condemned, Mr Hadley. I will allow full custody but there is no reason Ms Munroe's daughter cannot visit him in prison, if she wishes.'

'Your honour,' Mommy stands up now, uncertainly, 'we have DNA proof that Mr… Conroy… is not Claire's father. She has no reason to see him. Plus, with all due respect, if you read your notes again you will see that she is five years old, and in capable of making such a decision, surely?'

'Fine. Custody granted,' Wig-man whacks a hammer onto his desk top and moves on. Why were they talking about me? Instead of dwelling on it, I tune out once more and continue to imagine my fairy world for the rest of the afternoon.

Part three: Chad

I stare at Claire. Even after six months I still cannot believe that I helped create her. She's living, breathing and perfect. Her blonde hair is in French plaits and she's wearing a white dress that Sonny picked out. She's so beautiful. When I ran into her that day I wondered if I'd ever have children, and if I'd be a good father. Let's face it, I'm terrible really. Sure, I've acted as a parent; my mom did all those cheesy false logic lines, but when it really comes down to it, I'm pretty crap. CDC was never crap at anything. But this whole… family thing has made me more Chad. And he's pretty damn crap at a lot of things. Parenting, being in love and trying to pull Sonny back up.

She looks at me, Sonny, that is, like she's waiting for me to announce that I don't really love her at all. And sure, she's changed (that dickhead I called my best friend did that) but so have I. And Sonny's coming out more and more but as she does I don't know if I want the childish side of her because now I'm in love with Allison too. I wonder if we'll ever get the happy ending that all the heroines in Claire's story books do. If I fall in love with Allison, can I accept Sonny? Or can I love all of her? And how much do I love my daughter, if I've only known her for six months? These questions taunt me at night, when Sonny's asleep and Claire's curled up beside her. They sleep together so often and I watch, as if I'm excluded from their bubble. They're tied together so tightly and I wish I could be tied to them too. How can we be happy if I don't know how to reach them?

We leave the courtroom and I can finally breathe again. Claire beams at me and Sonny looks relieved and I hug them both. Sonny looks at me intently and says, 'You know I love you, right?'

I gape at her, 'Of course. Why d'you say it like that?'

'Because I don't say it enough. And that's wrong. Just so you know, I'm going to try as hard as I can to let you in, because I don't, and I'm going to get better and we. Will. Be. Happy,' she says forcefully. I smile at her. Yes, I can love all of you, I think.

We walk past James and I glare at him. I'll give evidence at his trial and he'll go to prison for three life sentences and five years for all he's done and Sonny and Claire will be free of him and we. Will. Be. Happy. Because despite the questions in my head, which has ruled over what I do since long before I met Sonny, my heart knows the answers and it's cheesy movies and Taylor Swift songs that tell you that you should listen to your heart.

How do I know that I love her? Because I saw her faults, her insecurities and her brokenness and realised that I wanted her anyway.

A/N: Review, please! I hope this lived up to your standards and expectations, those of you who wanted a sequel. Please tell me if there's anything I didn't tie up that you wanted done and I'll edit this. Thank you!