Her whole body shook. Shivered. She could physically see her legs moving from cold as she pulled off her jeans – she couldn't let Adam see – didn't want the pity – didn't want to talk about it. Didn't want him to know that his brother-in-law had made his sister miscarry. She just couldn't deal with that.

She wadded her jeans up and threw them into the bathtub, willing her head to stop spinning like it was – she felt sick to her stomach, but from what she didn't know? Was this normal when someone lost a baby? Lost her little peanut? Was this what happened? Or was it from sitting outside in the rain after desperately trying to claw her way back to the door to get out of the rain and in so she could know her kids were safe? Or was it from another one of Seth's rage-filled beatings that left her stranded out in the icy rain? Who was she to blame? This wasn't even close to the worst it had been – there just never had been a baby and rain before.

She heard her brother's voice out in the room. "Amber, Uncle Adam needs you to get your toys together, ok?"

Uncle Adam? He must have told the kids. Which was fine with Sarah – no need to hide the fact that her brother had to drive down and come save her from the life she had chosen. But she listened as Amber asked, "Are we moving again?"

Oh no. What her brother must think of her and the life she has with her children – Sarah was mortified – but she was so cold. That was beginning to be the thought that surpassed everything right now…

Adam's voice got closer and closer to the bathroom door, "We're going on a little trip." A trip? Hopefully nowhere cold.

"Where?" Amber asked, and she heard the little feet plop to the floor as her daughter probably climbed out of the little enclosure. "Are we going with Daddy's band? With Mr. MJ?" Just like all the other times they had moved around with the band. God, her teeth were chattering. Was the heat working in the room?

The doorhandle started to turn. "It's a surprise," Adam said, and then reminded Amber, "Get all the toys you want to bring, and…"

"I'll get Drew's and my's clothes too, ok? Just like when I help Mommy pack!"

The door opened a little and Adam just chuckled and said, "Get everything you can think of, little girl. I'm going to get your mommy." Sarah wondered if she could see her breath. Now, into the bathroom, Adam said, "Sarah, can I come in?"

She didn't have any pants on – her pants, wet and bloody – were in the bathtub. But she didn't have anything to cover up with. Through her chattering teeth, she just said, "I nnneed ssssome cllllothesss…" Her arms, still wrapped around her cramping stomach, covered enough of her front that she wasn't too exposed as Adam walked in. She was so cold – was it warmer out there in the room? Or here in the bathroom?

She watched as Adam looked at her and then looked away. But as he looked at the ground he started to take his tie off. "Can you take your shirt off, Sarah?" She looked up at him, confused. She was cold. She needed more clothes. Not less.

"I'mmmm colddd…" She said.

"I know." He had his tie off and now started unbuttoning his shirt. "I'm going to give you my shirt, it's warm and dry and will be easy for you to put on… if you can…" He looked at her, right in the eye – the one that she could see out of, "… can you get your shirt off?"

Without thinking, she brought her hands up to the hem of her tshirt – it was so cold and wet. It wasn't until she was trying to grab it in hier bloody hands that she realized she had uncovered herself, leaving the lower half of her body exposed.

"Oh, Aaaadam…" She apologized, "I'mmm sorry…" God, her voice wasn't normal. She was so cold. Ice. But her brother shouldn't have to…

She stopped thinking as she saw him walk over and grab the bottom of her shirt. "Just let me…"

"Youuu don't havveee too…" She stuttered.

"Sarah." He just said her name like she was five. "Just let me help you."

She couldn't fight anymore. She hated every minute of it as she cried out in pain lifting her hands up so he could pull her shirt off. Again, she wrapped her hands around her stomach – this time just out of awkwardness for Adam, having to help his little sister get dressed.

But he just held out his dress shirt, guiding her arms into it, and then buttoning a few of the buttons, just so it was closed. Leaving her feeling a little less exposed than she was. And it was so warm. And dry. There was still blood on her leg – blood both from her head and from her pants… And she knew she couldn't just stand up without blood coming…

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pair of her underwear – "I found these in those suitcases… do you need?"

She nodded reaching her hand out to him, but he knelt down in front of her, and just said, "I'll put them on you and then, when I leave, you can pull them up, ok?" Embarrassed, but too tired and cold to argue, she just nodded her head again. Nine years. And this is what it had come to? He pulled them up to her knees, making sure she could reach them.

Turning around, he found a washcloth and turned the water on. And started talking, "I'm going to get this nice and warm for you, Sarah. We just need to clean you up a little bit, make sure there's no room for infection before we leave." He answered her questions without her having to ask them. "I can't leave you here like this. Not with the kids needing you to take care of them while you're so hurt…" She'd been so much worse, but to say that would only make the whole situation more horrible than it was. He turned around and put the washcloth to her face, starting at her trembling lips, to which she winced in pain at the touch. "I'm trying to be careful…" He continued, "And with Seth coming back tomorrow…" Her heart started racing, and she tried to attribute it to the fact that Adam was now wiping the brown-tinted washcloth on her nose, which hurt like hell. "I just can't leave you here. So…"

He stood up and turned to rinse the washcloth out, before he turned, looking her right in the eye, and said, "You're coming home with me."

"What?" Sarah couldn't comprehend… "I cccaannnn't…"

She started to shake her head, but Adam held her chin still while he put the cloth to her forehead and said, "This might hurt…" A sharp, deep throbbing shot around her head, and she opened her mouth, a quick intake of air as Adam tenderly wiped the gash she knew must be pretty big – split from when Seth's boot hit her head… "I'm not leaving you here, Sarah, for that…" A loud cry of pain escaped her lips, causing Adam to say, "Sarah, I'm sorry… I just…"

She brought her bruised and blood-filled hand to her brother's wrist, and pulled the cloth away from her head, and now he was looking at her. And she breathed, "I can't go home, Adam. I just…" The thoughts of nine years – how she would explain everything – what her parents would think when they found out they had two grandchildren they had never met, when they heard from Adam how horrible her life was – and then, as she imagined what she looked like – if they saw her like this – it would just be too painful – to deeply hurtful to see them again. "… so long…" chattering. Her wet hair still dripped, now onto the dry shirt she had on… "… they won't understand and…" She let his hand go to gestured down her body… "… they can't see me…"

Her brother pierced his lips, and continued washing her face, now around her eyes, and she tried, as desperately hard as she possibly could, not to flinch as her tender skin chafed at the rough washcloth – pretty much raw skin against the ratty motel linen. It was a few more minutes while he wiped the blood off her chin and neck, stared for a second at the gash on her forehead, shook his head, and then stood to his feet, now looking down at her.

And, even though he sounded like he was trying to be nice, Sarah could read her brother – the one who would have gladly came to her aid anytime she needed him to when they were little – the one who tried, as hard as possible, to protect her like any big brother would. The time that she caught him threatening one of the kids at school who bullied her – caught him towering above them saying that if they hurt her again, he would hit them so hard their grandchildren would feel it – that was the brother that was standing above her.

He was angry. Sarah could see it. In his locked jaw. His fiery eyes. His clenched fists. The way he looked so stiff and mechanical, clenching the stained washcloth in his right hand. She knew how to see anger – that had been ingrained into her by Seth – usually through means other than just watching him.

"Sarah Tracey Braverman." Full name. Yep. He was angry. But quiet. Not yelling. Or swinging his fists – like another man in Sarah's life. "You are the proudest person I know!" Ouch, that hurt. "Look around you, look at this…" He held the cloth up to her face. "…you sit there, looking like an ad for a domestic violence campaign."

"Hey…" That was uncalled for… maybe.

He didn't stop. "Maybe that's fine with you. Maybe you're fine with living in constant fear of your deadbeat husband…" She watched as he turned around and threw the washcloth hard into the sink. She flinched, just from the action, even though it wasn't directed at her in any way. "… fine with stitching yourself up…" Both hands on the sink in front of him, she could see, in the mirror, his eyes clenched shut as he shook his head, "God, Sarah, stitching yourself up? How much lower can you go?"

"Sttoopppp…" The dry shirt was fine, but she was so cold, trying to defend herself, but unable to sound even the least bit in control.

"No!" He slammed his fist down on the counter, the plastic cups falling over into the sink. "You stop." He whirled around, and now Sarah could see tears in his eyes as he said, "Stop pretending like this is normal. Normal for your kids…" He pointed to the closed bathroom door, "…to have a box that they play with when their parents are fighting…" Guilt. All the guilt. And the cold. "That Amber helped you pick GLASS out of her mom's body!"

"It wasnn't lllllike tttthat…" Amber had made it sound so… God, even she was lying to herself. Amber had said it better than how it really had been.

Adam shook his head again and said, "Like I said, it's fine if you live like this – it's fine…" God, just from his tone, she knew it wasn't fine. Hell, inside of her mind, she knew it wasn't fine. Nothing about this was fine. "But those kids…" His voice broke as he whispered, "My niece and nephew…" The family he didn't know until tonight that he had. Thanks to her. "… I can't.." Oh, god no. He firmed up his voice, controlling the emotions she could see on his face, "…I WON'T leave them here, Sarah."

He wasn't… He couldn't be… "Nnnooo…" She stuttered, "Ddddon't you dare think… Fffffuuuckkk" She couldn't even talk through her chattering teeth.

"Don't make me do it, Sarah. Don't make me load those kids up in my car and take them away to a safe place…" He ran his hand through his wet hair, "I don't think I could bear that."

"Mmmyy kkids.." They were hers. He couldn't just take them away from her. She wouldn't… Hell, she looked down at herself and knew she couldn't put up any sort of fight that would stop them. "Ffffighht you…" But she would. She would try until she either died or passed out. She stuttered again, "Mmyyy kids." And she put her hand on her chest. It hurt, but she did it. They were her babies…

Then he said, "Don't make me leave you here, Sarah. Please. I couldn't bear to think of you waiting here for that monster to come back and do this again…"

Then he got down on his knees, grabbed both of her hands in his, and held them up to her – the place where her wedding right would have been on her left hand saturated through with blood and even bruising around it – and he held both her hands up and pleaded with her, his eyes going back and forth from her one eye to the other closed one. "Please, Sarah, just come home for a few days. Rest. Sleep. Think things through."

Going home was the last thing Sarah had ever wanted. Showing them how much of a failure she was at life – that had been what had kept her from ever going home in the past. The same of them seeing her like this – it was something she didn't even want to comprehend.

But the thought of being left here – alone – while her brother took her kids to what she knew would be a safer place – especially when Seth came back – sent her already shaking body into what she could only describe as shock – she automatically curled up, the cramping in her stomach taking a whole new pain level – her head throbbing more and more – and now her hands, where Adam was holding them – everything began to fall apart thinking about Seth coming back.

And she simply looked down at her bare legs, blood and water dried on, and she quietly said, "Gggggauze in the bbboxxx…" And she pointed at the

He didn't let go of her hands, but just tilted his head and asked, "What? I was asking…"

The pain. The throbbing. The gut-wrenching cramps. The loss.

She just snapped at him and said, "Hhhheeelp bbbbandage my hhhead… assshole." It was so rough. So uncalled for. Not after what he had done – driving two hours and carrying her through the rain and helping her dress – but she couldn't think about going any lower – so she just used what little strength she had left to let him know she was protesting his idea but was going along with it. "I'lllll gooo."