A/N sorry for the long wait guys but I really had a hard time writing this chapter. I just kept rewriting it and rewriting it. This was the best version that I thought would be except able to my awesome readers. So if this chapter sucks I apologize along with my terrible grammar but reviews are appreciated good or bad.

When Eliot was little there were times where he would look upon the action packed TV and smile with awe at the super heroes he saw. They were brave and polite although burdened with the services he or she felt required to do. They were honest and strong, fearless and respected. Superman, Batman and Spider man paraded Eliot's young soul creating the brave boy he was. He wanted to be a hero. No, not with the sometimes corny punch lines that made the comics of the comic books, he wanted to be a real one. He didn't want to be just a figment of someone's imagination. He wanted to make a change and perhaps as young boy that was such a silly want. Adults not really wanting to feed the illusion told him to wait, be patient, that he'll have his chance but as he stood there watching his family fall apart, he felt useless. He wanted to yell why. He wanted to know the reason behind this monstrosity. Why hadn't he been watching her? It was such a simple thing to do yet he hadn't done it and by the time he did he had only saw a glimpse of them, his sister's blonde hair glinting in the light. Alec saw and perhaps that's what made Eliot angrier. The fact that Alec had saw everything but never thought to say anything bothered him. Eliot knew it was not the boys fault but, knowing didn't make it hurt less. Unfortunately blaming someone else did. He wanted to cry. He wanted to punch something, anything just to stop being so angry. Most of all he wanted his mom, to save her. If anything he wanted to be her hero, to just go back in time so this would have never happened. He wanted his mother to stop crying.

Eliot walked over to his mother and placed a hand on hers. She looked up at him with tired, fearful eyes like she was on the edge of a steep cliff. She then placed his hand on her cheek before kissing it softly. Her silent tears fell on his hand, warm and wet, silently marking him as her comfort object for the moment. She held his hand to her cheeks for a while, taking in the roughness of it, the smell, and the feel. She imprinted on it like she was afraid she would forget it. As if she could somehow forget it. Gently, Sophie pulled Eliot into her arms. Eliot almost felt suffocated by the tightness of the hug. Then quickly she pushed him away from her. She brushed her hair back in sadness and frustration as the tears began to fall again.
"I'm sorry El" she whispered.
"Mom...it's okay."
She laughed at herself slightly in self-pity.
"I'm the one who's supposed to be being strong for you and you're sitting here being so brave." She smiled, prideful of her son. "When did you become so strong? When did you become such a big boy?" She ruffled his hair, almost like she was trying to remember when he once was such a little boy.
He shrugged, smiling slightly. He saw her hair fall back on her face again making him a little aggravated. He wanted eye contact. He wanted to see the depth of her despair and take it away. He wanted to rescue her. He pushed her hair back for her and placed a kiss where the hair once laid. Her heart wrenching sobs shook her body under his touch.
"It'll be Okay mom." He said even though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than his mother. She nodded her head in response. Although her mind couldn't convince her that things would truly be okay.
She was angry at herself, disappointed, dissatisfied. She so badly wanted things to be okay, to just wake up from this nightmare. She wanted to pretend that everything was just a dream, that someone would pinch her and when she woke up Elizabeth would be by her side, her family correct. She...she just wanted to be full again.

"Thanks, sweetheart" She said sadly although she made herself smile through her tears. She then carefully escorted herself out of the room along with Parker's brown bunny that sat on the ground beside the TV only about two days before.

She walked up the stairs and into Parker's purple painted room. It was spacious, fitting Parker's active personality. The dressers were filled with flawless paintings alongside dozens of colorful stuffed bunnies. 'Bunnies' Sophie thought to herself. She had remembered all the silly names Parker had created for her little friends. Pinky, Dinky, Lily, Philly, Billy, Bob, Sue. Those were just a few names that Sophie remembered out of the dozen. She even recalled one of the bunnies' names being Maddie, short for Madison. Sophie sighed and, dragged her body to the bed in which Parker slept. She lay on the blue, white, and black plaid blanket and curled onto it hopelessly. While lying on the bed Sophie took in the scent of her daughter. The smell of expensive chocolate along with the special bubble bath that the young girl so enjoyed. It was Parker, everything Parker. To her shyness all the way to her athletic adrenaline, it was Parker and, the thought that some part of this evil scheme was her fault threatened to destroy her mind. Her head was spinning with a relentless pain that only intensified at the thought of her missing daughter.

'Think Sophie' she told herself. Repeatedly, over, and over, she told herself to think, to just think.

Raw emotion swept over her. She just wanted…no, she needed Elizabeth. She felt desperate. Like a teen whose phone has been taken away only with a stronger urge. Tears sped down her cheeks in rapid rivers. The faster the tears ran down her cheek the stronger the pain became and, the more her brain relented in trying to think.

"God" She breathed out heavily.

God was the name she called out. She fisted her hair as she asked the question where is he? Sophie had never played with religion. In fact she's pretty neutral about it although Nate himself is Catholic. Sometimes it never occurred to her as to why words like God would come out of her mouth or even why she knew of his name as a comfort but, she did. 'Should I pray' She would often ask herself. Is there anybody up there? She just didn't like religion all that much. Sure, she would like to have something to believe in, to have what people claim is such a wonderful thing. But…with religion comes doubt. You find yourself asking why this or that happened. You try to figure out why are you here? What is your purpose? Most importantly you found yourself asking the question of all questions. Why? She just couldn't throw herself into believing in something so simple. Perhaps maybe she was fooling herself, letting her be drawn into her old ways, needing the proof. She needed to see it, to breathe it, to feel it but it was more than that. She liked the thought of having her own purpose and to have made her own purpose. To think that someone up high had the control over her, questions her own stability and she needed stability.

But then and there she felt different. She felt her heart lunge forward at the word God.

"No, no, no, no" She yelled at herself. She quickly ran out of her daughter's bed and into the bathroom that was nearby. She stared at her mirror that lay in front of her in distress. Her eyes where rheumy and swollen from her fast falling tears along with her hair lying as a slightly wet tangled mess on top of her head. She turned on the faucet and let the cold water splash onto her hands. Then almost instantaneously she splashed the cold water onto her face. "Wake up" She said and looked back up at her face surprised that it was still the same. "Please, please, wake up." She splashed water on her face again. When she saw once again that nothing had changed she slammed her hand down on the sink before she grabbed a brush out of the cabinet and began brushing her hair furiously. "Damn it God! Why are you doing this to me? Elizabeth did nothing yet you punish her when it is my fault. So why do you hurt her? Oh, mighty God who is suppose to spare innocent children. Hasn't she been through enough?" She gulped down the lump in her throat. She was sick of crying. "No answer…well let's bargain. If you bring Elizabeth back I promise….."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." A voice said from behind her interrupted. She recognized the voice as Maggie, her best friend. "Bargaining doesn't help. I've tried it."

Maggie softly took the brush from Sophie and began brushing Sophie's hair herself. Their eyes interlocked from the reflection of the mirror. Desperate deep brown eyes locked on to mysterious and serene blue ones. With every breath that Maggie took Sophie did also. With one hand brushing her hair and the other rubbing soothing circles on Sophie's back Maggie looked intently into Sophie's eyes, almost as though she was reading into her friend's soul. 26, 27, 28 Maggie stroked the woman's hair repeatedly in comfort to herself and the young mother. Finally Sophie's anger died down allowing Sophie to speak softly again.

"Is this how it felt?" she asked meekly.

"How did what feel like sweetheart?" Maggie asks innocently even though she knows perfectly well what her friend is talking about. She turned her eyes away from the mirror turning her attention towards Sophie's hair.

"When Sam…"

"Yes" She replied still brushing the woman's hair. 64, 65, 66, brush, stroke, brush

"Did it feel like you were dying alongside him, that you should have tried to do something, that…?" Maggie stopped brushing the broken woman's hair for a second. She remembered this pain, the bargaining, and the misunderstandings.

"It's not your fault Sophie." She said sternly. She wouldn't let her friend go down that road. It would hurt too much.

"Isn't it? Madison wants me for something I did. I shouldn't have made Eliot take Parker to the park. I should have gone with her. She asked me over and over and over but this week was just so busy a…"

"I don't want hear another word of this nonsense. There was nothing you could do. Blaming you, trying to bargain, it's not going to bring her back. You need to concentrate on getting her back. We need to get her back." For the first time since the conversation, Sophie turned away from the mirror to truly look into Maggie's eyes.

"I just don't know what to do." she cried out in a soft whimper.

"We play it like game and we'll hope that luck is on our side." Maggie replied soothingly.

Her eyes turned to the right slightly to the body that was leaning on the door frame. Nate looked at her eyes in determination.

"Luck has nothing to do with it. It's strategy." They locked eyes before he turned his body away from her to walk down the hall back to where he would once again begin waiting. Then abruptly he stopped to look at the two women. "We'll are you coming?"

Dismissively they both stood and followed Nate. If 'luck' was on their side things just might be okay.

It's dark. She knows everything is dark. She can feel the dark, breathe it in. It's scary. No, not the dark itself but it's the noises that peep out from the dark that make it scary. She's numb. The needle that was struck into her arm earlier was the result of her paralysis. She wants to get up. She wants to be able to feel something to know that she is alive but, another side of her is glad because at least she can pretend that everything that is happening is just a dream. She can dream a five year old dream where she is rescued by some knight in shining armor. She can pretend that she doesn't somehow recognize one of those faces. She can pretend that she doesn't recognize his touch. She can pretend like she hasn't breathed in his scent before and she can pretend she doesn't know his name. She can and on the outside she lets her eyes become blank but, inside she knows. She knows what she knows and how she knows and why she knows. The cold against her skin only reminded her more.

Suddenly light filled the dark place where she laid. The little light provides some warmth and at the warmth she finds herself calling out to the person.

"Daddy" she asks hopefully.

Then with the light shone brightly on the man's face he smirks at her evilly.

"Yes, Elizabeth, Daddy's here."

She burst into tears. Not because of the pain or because of the dark but because it's so hard to forget a face especially if that face is your worst nightmare.

A/N how was it?