Author's Note: Another shocker, it's Gingerbread! Some of you might have thought given my apparent abandoning of this tale that I had actually concluded it. No. I just didn't couldn't get the ending down on the page the way I had it in my head. And trust me, I tried. But now, we got it. And I don't want to ruin anything coming so I'll just say, more at the end.

Assuming you go back and read the story again to refresh your memory, please note this one picks up first thing the next morning.

TV Prompt Set #19

Show: Little House On the Prairie

Title Challenge: The High Cost of Being Right

Back To The Beginning

Aaron leaned down to pick up Emily's box of videotapes. Then he turned, tipping his head back to call up the staircase.

"Emily! I'm running out to the car. Do you have anything else to go?"

Though he was pretty sure that they were about ninety-five percent packed, ninety-five percent was not done. And all Aaron wanted was to be done.

They'd woken up a little over an hour ago to discover that the humidity . . . which they'd had a wonderful respite from the last twenty-four hours . . . had rolled in again overnight. There was no air conditioning in the cabin . . . Aaron's nose wrinkled as a trickle of sweat ran down his temple . . . and for security reasons they obviously couldn't leave the windows open to get a breeze.

Not that there was any breeze to get today anyway.

The air outside was stagnant, and as the sun climbed in the sky it was beating down on the front of the house. Bottom line, it was barely nine am and his shirt was already sticking to him like he'd jumped in the lake.

That did not bode well for the rest of the morning here.

"Um," Emily stood staring at the pictures in the hallway as she called back softly to Aaron, "yeah, I just need to get the blankets and pillows off the bed." Her eyes started to water as she reached out to touch the photo of her parents sitting down by the lake.

The color was fading.

"Five minutes and I'll be ready to go."

It was best that Aaron was hurrying them out the door because of the heat. Because anymore time here to dwell on her past and she was just going to start crying again anyway.

She'd rather just go.

Hearing the tears in Emily's voice, Aaron bit his lip as his eyes dropped to the floor . . . she was so sad today, and he just didn't know what to do. It had started the moment he'd woken up to find her crying on his shoulder. As he'd rolled over and wrapped her up in his arms, at first he couldn't quite figure out what it was that had so altered her mood from the night before. She'd been so happy.

And then she wasn't.

And of course she wouldn't tell him why that was. She'd just gotten embarrassed as she wiped her face. Then when he'd kissed her temple and asked again why she was crying, she'd shaken her head and murmured that it didn't matter.

That was when her voice had cracked.

She'd immediately pulled away from him and run out of the bedroom. The bathroom door had slammed shut a second later. He'd started after her but when he got to the hallway that's when he again saw the pictures lining the walls, and he realized that he already knew what was wrong.

They were going home.

It had been over a year since Emily's last visit to the cabin with her family. And it seemed with her grandparents' deteriorating health, and the progression of her parents' careers, the odds were not kind to the whole Prentiss family getting back together up here again. Their last visit as a family probably had been their last visit.

This cabin, which had meant so much to Emily for so many years, was now becoming part of her past.

And though he was worried about her, Aaron was trying not to prolong the process of saying goodbye. So instead of asking again if she was all right, he cleared his throat.

"After I drop this box in the trunk I'm going to shut off the water. Then I'll come help you with the last load, all right?"

At first there was no response back to his question. But then he heard the subdued "okay," come floating down from the second story and he sighed.

Poor Emily.

And as he stepped into the hall Aaron suddenly flashed on her red rimmed eyes as she stared at the fireplace that morning. Again he wished that he could think of something to say or do to help her process all of these emotions.

But there was nothing really.

After all . . . he stepped out onto the porch, pulling the door tightly shut behind him . . . he was just someone new. Yes, he was someone that cared about her . . . but he wasn't her family. And whatever their relationship was now, or whatever it could possibly become in the future, his presence wasn't going to fix the other things that were broken.

It was her life.

So . . . he stepped off the bottom step . . . he'd just have to try and let her process this situation in her own way. And if she wanted to talk later when they got home, then . . . he leaned down slightly to place the box into the open trunk . . . he would listen. And if she wanted to cry, then he would hold her. And then tomorrow . . . Aaron straightened as his gaze drifted up to the bay windows on the second floor . . . they would start again.

But for now, as he slammed the trunk shut and wiped his forearm across his sweaty brow, he knew that he just needed to get them packed and out of there. Though he was trying to give Emily a little space to say her goodbyes to this place, he still didn't want to linger.

It wouldn't be healthy to stay out here in this weather.

No . . . Aaron rolled his neck as he started crossing the front yard . . . the hope was to be back in the world of air conditioning and takeout well before either of them dropped from heat exhaustion. And in order to attain that wonderful goal of air conditioning and takeout . . . aka civilization . . . he was now off to complete the last major task on his to do list that morning . . . turning off the water to the house.

It was a little bit of a trek.

Though they had been out to barbecue the night before, that was a different part of the yard . . . the nice part. It was the side that followed the path that led down to the lake. There was a brick fire pit, a retractable awning for shade, and some teak benches that were all weather built ins.

Spending time out there last night . . . really late afternoon, he would never have Emily out after dark . . . he'd shaken his head as he'd wondered yet again why it was that Emily's parents didn't make more of an effort to get away if they had that to get away to. Then he figured he was never going get to know either of them well enough to ask that question, so he probably should just let it go.

Essentially though, that was why he hadn't actually had reason to get around to the water pump since they'd arrived two days earlier. Because of course the house was enormous and as such, the property surrounding it was as well. So when Aaron turned the corner into the far side yard the first thing he noticed was what a mess it was.

More so than when he'd first seen it.

As it wasn't the section of property that was used for socializing . . . nor could it be seen from the front of the house . . . it was somewhat neglected. The lawn was more weeds than grass, and the ground was more rocks than dirt. On its best day it wasn't going to win any landscaping awards, but after all the rains Friday night it had basically become a swamp land. His nose wrinkled . . . it even had that smell. And the mud still remained in patches of dark and light depending on how much sunlight had beaten down on that part of the yard. Fortunately most of the excess water had evaporated so he wasn't getting his sneakers too wet as he slogged along best he could while sticking to the drier patches of ground.

In fact . . .

Aaron's last thought vanished as something suddenly caught his eye. He stopped dead in his tracks.

A footprint.

Or more specifically . . . his heart started to race . . . footprints. They were dried into the mud and . . . his eyes shot across the lawn . . . leading up to the side of the house.

Shit. Shit! SHIT!

Adrenaline now pouring through his veins, Aaron yanked out his Sig as he spun around, trying to see everywhere at once. And what he saw did absolutely nothing for his level of anxiety.

The footprints stopped in front of the kitchen window.

Somebody had been watching them.

It didn't matter that the footprints were mostly hardened, what mattered was that their perimeter had been breached and he hadn't known about it. They needed to leave NOW!

Just as Aaron was about to bolt back to the house and drag Emily to the car he spotted something moving in the greenery just beyond the tree line.

And then the movement stopped.

Now operating purely on instinct, Aaron stared intently, trying to see between the leaves. When he squinted he got a glimpse of what appeared to be the color yellow . . . probably a shirt . . . and then for a split second he dropped his eyes to the ground to see the pattern of the footprints again.

As he feared they led directly back to the part of the trees that had just caught his attention.

His gaze snapped back up.

Even though it was broad daylight and he was in the midst of a sweltering heat, a chill went down his spine. If some of these footprints were already dry, that meant that their stalker . . . who was living in full Technicolor a mere twenty-five yards away . . . had been coming and going for at least twenty-four hours.

Aaron seriously wanted to throw up. How had he let his happen? This person could be the author of Emily's letter.

This could be the person with the box cutter.

Feeling another wave of abject panic rising up, Aaron started to take a half a step backwards . . . he needed to get to Emily . . . but just then he saw the trees move again slightly. And then a glint of sunlight bounced off something right where he'd seen the yellow shirt seconds before.

Okay . . . Aaron's teeth started to grind as he slid his thumb over his safety . . . there was a remote possibility that sunbeam had bounced off of somebody's watch. But given the lead weight in his stomach, he was leaning more towards the idea that sunbeam had bounced off of somebody's rifle scope.

Great.

So now it didn't matter that Emily was at least locked up safe and sound inside the house. Because this guy had a rifle. And once he took Aaron's head off, he was going to be free to come over and pluck the frigging house key right out of his pocket!

Really . . . Aaron thought bitterly . . . once he was a decapitated CORPSE, then Emily was going to be completely SCREWED! And for a moment he was torn about what to do next. His head . . . pride . . . was telling him to try to regain control of the situation. That until he had proof that the glint was a rifle, he should attempt to assert his authority. He should call out and demand that whoever was down there drop whatever he was holding and show himself.

But Aaron knew that was a fool's move.

His gut wasn't wrong. Any stalker who shows up with a rifle isn't looking to have a conversation. That person has already decided how this day is going to go. And with a clear line of sight from this side of the house to the woods, Aaron was completely exposed.

Even an amateur could take a clean shot.

Yeah . . . his fingers tapped on the side of his revolver . . . whoever that was down there . . . no matter what his intentions . . . he had the complete upper hand.

And he wasn't about to give it up just because some jackass flashed his badge.

That's when Aaron's racing heart reminded him yet again that Emily was his primary responsibility here. Keeping her safe . . . his stomach started to churn as he flashed on box cutters and straight razors . . . keeping her alive. That was all that mattered.

And the only way for her to stay alive was for him to get her the hell out of there!

But of course . . . the little voice in his head piped up . . . if there was somebody with a gun hiding in the woods on one side of the house . . . his gaze shifted slightly . . . then there could be somebody hiding elsewhere too.

God he would fucking KILL for some backup right now!

Okay . . . he took a shallow breath as he saw another glint come from the trees . . . keep it together Aaron. No time to be pissed off, no time to be wishing for things you don't have. There are things to do. And the first thing to do . . . he started to back up slowly . . . was get to Emily.

If he could just get back around to the corner of the house, then he'd make a run for it. Right now his hope was that this stalker/sniper liked to play cat and mouse. After all, at least thirty seconds had passed since Aaron had locked eyes on that corner of the woods. It had to be clear to the person holding the giant magnifying glass that he knew something was wrong!

And the guy still hadn't taken the shot yet.

Granted . . . Aaron risked a quick glance over his right shoulder . . . there was still a slim chance that it was just some perv out there with a telescope trying to catch a glimpse of Emily in her bikini. That would be nice. That would be great.

Yeah . . . he took another shall breath . . . that would be bullshit.

Some Peeping Tom would have taken off into the trees as soon as he knew that he was spotted. With the distance to the end of the yard, Aaron had no chance of catching him, let alone even getting close enough to see his face. He could have disappeared into the forest as a mystery man.

And Aaron would have let him go.

He would have raced back to the house, thrown Emily over his shoulder and peeled out like the hounds of hell were chasing them. And that might have been a complete overreaction.

But he would have been okay with that.

Now though, as he worked his way back the last few paces to the edge of the house, he began to dread having to turn the corner. Not only was he going to lose whatever small advantage he had at the moment . . . actually being able to see what he now knew for sure was right in front of him . . . but it was also a blind corner behind him. And though he'd shot a couple of quick looks over his shoulder, he had no way of knowing if there was anybody else besides this disturbingly . . . alarmingly . . . patient man in the woods.

Was there now another disturbingly patient assassin now sitting on the hood of his car?

Aaron got to the turn in the yard, pausing for just a millisecond to listen, trying to hear if there was anyone out front.

Nothing but the cicadas buzzing . . . and of course the blood pounding in his ears. Okay . . . he took a deep breath to prepare himself . . . so as soon as he was clear around the corner he was hauling ass to the front door.

Just as he moved his left foot, Aaron caught sight of another flash of light from the woods. This one was much brighter than the last.

GUNSHOT!

Though his brain was able to process the word . . . his body didn't have time to react. Before he could dive out of the way, Aaron felt a blinding white pain that threw him back and to the muddy ground beneath him.

Then he blacked out.

A/N 2: Man, I'm just shooting team members left and right this week! Okay, so the plan from the beginning was to wrap up the "action/adventure" portion of their day in one chapter. But you know, believe it or not, I can get a bit wordy in the writing. I know, shocking. So the adventury portion was just getting longer and longer and things get too long and they start to feel a bit unwieldy. And I was at like 14k words without even reaching the polish stage so I was having a slight anxiety attack about ever getting this damn thing pulled together. So to save my sanity and finally reward all you nice folks with an update, against my initial better judgment, I sliced up the last day. We now have this first "beginning of the end" chapter and then definitely one, possibly two more. It depends on whether I tack my epilogue on the end of the next one or give it it's own posting. Again though, I have this all written to the end, it's just getting cleaned up now. So I'd LOVE to finish putting up the last bit this month. That's why I was so resistant to chopping it, it felt like a step back because it wasn't what I wanted to do. I wanted to put up just one tight chapter addressing all of the drama on Sunday. But sometimes you have to be a grownup and realize that what you want to do, and what you need to do, are not the same thing. And here we are.

So yeah, to the chapter! This was the plan all along. Aaron would discover the footprints in the mud when he went to turn off the water. I saw them in my head as soon as Emily woke up the first night with the rain pounding on her window. And now you can see, all the foreshadowing was not for naught :) I did have a plan. It was just arriving by tortoise.

Also, as it relates to the title of the chapter, 'back to the beginning' not only is that now refocusing on the whole reason these two people have intersected, Emily's life was threatened, but also the reason they connected beyond the intersection was because of Emily's disconnect from the rest of her family. Initially I had some difficulty picking a tone for Emily on this day because they were happy the night before. But then I reread the story and realized that she was going to be sad again in the morning. All of her memories of that place are just memories now. Whatever happens in the future, it's going to be a different stage of her life. Clearly Emily will play larger than a bit player role in the next chapter.

So hope you're all happy here that we're back. And I truly am hoping against hope that in the very short term my brain can stick with the cleanup of the last part.