We are almost at the end of this journey. One update, though really two chapters left. I hope that you all don't hate me after this chapter, to be honest. So try to enjoy, and be aware that this pushes the boundaries of the rating toward the end, so just be prepared for that.

The Ties That Bind

Chapter X: Brace Yourself

You let it carry you away

So brace yourself and ride it out

This storm will weather itself down

And of you feel like you're alone

Just know that I'm here with you

Well face whatever life might bring

Through hurricanes and tragedies

Just grit your teeth and walk on through

Cuz this storm might miss you

This time, they were on a plane. There was curly red hair tickling her nose, and a strong hand holding hers on the armrest. Lydia was small again, smaller than Sharon had ever seen her—maybe three or four, perched happily in Sharon's lap, clutching a book as Sharon quietly read aloud. She stole a fleeting glance out the window, across David, who seemed to have fallen asleep.

"Wead, Shay-won!"

Sharon looked back down at the book at the tiny girl's words. She pushed some of the curly frizz gently away from Lydia's and her own face. Lydia turned in Sharon's lap and looked up at her.

"Is this what Mommies do?"

Before she could say a word, the plane split in two, right before her eyes. Everything around her went flying, including the child on her lap and the man beside her. She remained in her seat somehow, left to cling to their hands as they flew away from her. Their hands slipped from hers and she screamed.

"Rrrrriiiiinnnng! Rrrrrriiiiinnnng!"

Sharon's eyes opened immediately with a groan. Before she could do more than roll over, the baby's cries joined the ringing phone. Swinging her feet down off of the bed, she glanced at the clock. 1:30. Was that a.m. or p.m.? She'd long since lost track. Well, she was not wearing pajamas. And was that light shining through the curtains? Yes. So that must mean afternoon.

Groaning again loudly at the combined screams of the newborn in the bassinet at the foot of her bed and the continued ringing of the telephone, she staggered out into the hall and answered the phone.

"What?"

"Well, hello to you, too, Sharon."

It was Laurie, of course.

"I'm sorry, I just—hold on."

Sharon set the phone down on the side table, wondering for the thousandth time if they'd ever get a cord long enough to stretch into the bedroom, and went to pick up the baby. It never ceased to amaze her that such an enormous sound could come from such a tiny person. She tucked little Emily into the crook of her arm, swaying and bouncing alternately back into the hall and picking up the phone just as the crying subsided.

"Alright. Hello."

"You were asleep, weren't you? Oh my God. I'm a worm." Laurie seemed to have scandalized herself.

Still swaying, Sharon shrugged into the phone perched between her shoulder and cheek. "Well, you know what they say. Sleep when the baby sleeps." Suddenly her heart seemed to stop. She looked around frantically, listening hard. Panic rising in her voice, she almost shouted into the phone. "I fell asleep! Oh God, where's Ricky?! Did he fall down the stairs?! He's not here, Laurie!"

"Whoa, Sharon. Slow down. Ricky is here with me. I picked him up this morning, remember?"

The honest answer was no. Had that been today? Sharon took a deep breath and tried to relax.

"Right. Of course. Is he okay?"

"He's fine. He and Thomas are throwing food at each other. They're great. But seriously, Sharon, that settles it. You need a break."

Sharon almost laughed hysterically into the phone, but stopped herself. Of course she needed a break. She had needed a break every day for the last ten months. Her life did not work that way.

"Funny, Laurie. But we both know my life doesn't come with breaks."

"It does today. Jim is coming over to your place at six, and when he arrives you will be showered and dressed and ready to go." Laurie left no room for negotiation.

"Are you setting me up on a date with your husband? Because he's great, but I already have a husband."

Laurie scoffed. "Correction: you already have a dirty rotten scoundrel."

Sharon let that pass without comment, and Laurie continued.

"I'm setting you up on a date with me! Jim will take the kids and try not to destroy your house, and we'll go out without any distractions. This is not a suggestion. We'll be there at six o'clock."

When Sharon hung up the phone moments later, Emily had started to squirm in her arms. Swaying gently as she made her way back into the bedroom, Sharon hummed soothingly and dropped slowly into the rocker in the corner. As she began to rock quietly in the chair, little Emily's squirming became more and more frustrated until her tiny face turned red and angry wrinkles spread across her forehead and chin before her mouth finally opened with a wail.

"Oh hold on, hold on, honey," she whispered soothingly over the escalating sobs, adjusting herself carefully so that she could feed the baby. At nearly six weeks now, Sharon didn't have to work too hard to get Emily to clamp on. The little one had figured it all out and knew the drill by now, so Sharon was able to just sit quietly for a time, holding the baby against her breast and humming occasionally.

After this weekend, her maternity leave was over. Sharon was going to have to get back to work, to leaving her children all day and going back to investigating. It would be good, she knew that. She was going a little insane these days, alone in the house all day with the baby and a trouble-making toddler. But given the year she had had, the quiet was nice.

When the baby finished and Sharon had burped and changed her, the two of them went on downstairs, mostly so Sharon could resist the urge to crawl back in bed. Still relatively quiet, Emily's large green eyes seemed to take everything in as Sharon walked into the living room.

Jim and Laurie had sprung for a VCR for her a few months ago, when the doctor had put Sharon on bed rest. They'd always had a TV, but Sharon had rarely turned it on. Jack had been the one who had wanted it. But stuck in bed or on the couch for the entire month before Emily's birth, Sharon had found a use for it. Along with the VCR, Laurie had made sure to stock up on movies as well.

Crouching down over the box of movies now, Sharon looked down at Emily, still nestled against her chest.

"So what do you think, honey? It looks like our choices are Aunt Laurie's old E/R tapes or Ice Castles. That's the only one we haven't seen yet."

Pulling the baby up by her armpits and holding her at eye-level, right in front of Sharon's face, she looked at her seriously. Emily still didn't have much hair beyond a little peach fuzz on her scalp; she was all eyes, enormous green ones just like her mother's, with rosy little cheeks and a soft smile that could melt the world's collective heart. From the beginning, Ricky had been almost equal parts Sharon and Jack. He had Jack's round face and blue eyes, even that little half smile these days; but he had Sharon's hands and feet, her thick hair—though the color was all Jack again—and most especially as he got older, her quiet caution. But looking at Emily now, Sharon marveled once again at how absent Jack was from this child. Emily truly was hers, not a trace of Jack visible. As if somehow his absence and disinterest had translated into her being. It was remarkable.

Still looking seriously into those identical green eyes on her daughter's face, she said earnestly, "I think it comes down to this, Em. Do you want to laugh, or do you want to cry?"

Emily frowned for a minute, pursing her lips before screwing her face up a little and kicking a little impatiently.

"Alright, then. Ice Castles it is." Sharon brought the baby back up against her shoulder, holding her tiny body there with one hand and slipping the video tape into the VCR with the other before getting back to her feet and settling them both on the couch. She curled up in the corner, Emily on her lap and leaning against Sharon's arm holding her steady, looking out into the room as the movie began.

It was strange how something so small, like the opening lines of that soundtrack, could bring back long-forgotten memories. First came a memory of that awkward night when she'd allowed herself to be set up on a first date by a roommate back in college. He'd taken her to this movie, and it had been awful. The movie was wonderful; it always was. The date had just been terrible and awkward. There hadn't been a second one.

But Sharon dwelled on that night only for the shortest of moments before the opening scenes took her back home, to fighting with her mother over her ice skates. That was the thing she missed most about home, back in Chicago. She missed the cold, the snow, and most especially skating across a pond. She had loved to skate, and she had been good; but eventually her mother won, and Sharon had given up the skates for traditional ballet. Elizabeth had been terrified she was going to get hurt and crack her head upon the ice. Grimacing a little at the thought, Sharon now recognized that her mother had a point, given where she knew this movie was going.

Still. She missed it.

She looked down at Emily, whose eyes were slowly drifting shut as she relaxed heavily into the crook of Sharon's arm. And she wondered if her little girl would ever want to skate. As a parent now, she saw her own mother's point and rather hoped little Emily would rather just dance, if she was interested in that sort of thing.

Seeing that Emily was truly falling asleep now, Sharon shifted a little on the couch, leaning back so that she was stretched along the length of it with her daughter resting on her chest, one tiny cheek right over her heart.

They got out of the house that night right on time somehow, leaving Jim running around Sharon's house after the screaming kids with little Emily strapped to his front.

"Stop worrying, Sharon. They'll be fine. We're only going to be gone for a couple of hours."

It was easier said than done, but Sharon did her best to relax as Laurie drove. It was nice to be out and about just the two of them. They had really only done this a few times before, and she missed it. A little like the date nights she and Jack used to have in the old days. Back when they had been so happy. Sharon and Laurie both smiled and laughed together in the sort of worry-free way they so rarely were at liberty to display. Sharon didn't regret having her children for a moment; but they did limit her activities. But not tonight.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Sharon delighted in ordering a glass of red wine and drinking it slowly and deliberately while she and Laurie talked.

"Are you ready to get back to work next week?" Laurie was not drinking this time, instead watching Sharon savor her wine with a little quirk of amusement on her lips.

"Oh yes. If only because it means regular adult conversations again. And it will be nice to get back in the fray without a glaring reminder of my gender staring at them all day." She grimaced a little and continued, "Did I tell you about that detective a few months ago at a crime scene? He looked me right in the eye and called me a 'school bus.'" Sharon rolled her eyes.

Laurie looked unsure whether to laugh or not. Finally it seemed she could no longer hold it in, and Laurie collapsed into a fit of giggles. Sharon continued to look determinedly up at the ceiling until she finally cracked and gave into a small smile.

Giggles finally subsiding, Laurie adopted a more serious face. "But are you ready, Sharon?"

Matching Laurie's newly serious tone, she nodded and replied, "Of course I am. It's been nearly six weeks. Emily is ready to spend some quality time with her Aunt Laurie, my parents didn't once offer to take her off my hands permanently when they visited last week, and I qualified with my weapon last Friday." She ran her fingers through her hair quickly and smiled. "I'll be fine. I'm ready. And you should know better than anyone that the majority of my job is paperwork." Taking another sip of wine, Sharon continued, "Your father was on the force for what, twenty years?"

"And he was also killed in the line of duty."

Sharon froze. How on earth had she missed that? Setting down her wine glass, she looked up at Laurie, all mirth from the previous moments drained from both their faces.

"I didn't know that." Sharon held her gaze, her fingers smoothing the wooden surface of the table unconsciously. "You never said a word, Laurie. If I had known…"

Uncharacteristically quiet, Laurie looked down at her lap. "I know. I don't like to talk about it. I was seventeen. It's not something I dwell on."

"I understand. But if you do want to talk about it…" Sharon trailed off.

Flashing a more characteristic grin, Laurie winked. "I'm the shrink, Sharon, remember? I'm fine."

Casting around for a change in subject, Sharon caught sight of an unfamiliar man nearing their table, looking right at her. He drew level with them, and she looked questioningly at him.

"Can we help you, sir?"

The man smiled amicably as he answered, "I hope so. I'm looking for a Sergeant Sharon Raydor. Would that be you, ma'am?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid I'm not on-duty." She made to turn away from him again, but he persisted.

"I understand. However, there's a rather urgent phone call for you at the front desk. If you'll follow me…" He gestured toward the front of the restaurant.

Mouthing a silent apology to Laurie, Sharon rose and followed the man back through the restaurant, lifting the telephone to her ear when she reached reception.

"Sergeant Raydor here."

"Um… Hello. Yes. So sorry to bother you when you're off duty, but ummm—" The voice was female, young, and unfamiliar.

"What can I do for you? With whom am I speaking?"

"Oh, yes. This is Jenna. Jenna Tennant?" The woman was clearly nervous, speaking so quietly Sharon had to press the receiver rather hard against her ear.

"I'm sorry, Jenna is it? Have we met? How did you get this number?"

"You gave me your home phone number, wrote it on the back of your business card? You told me to call if I needed anything…You were investigating my husband, officer John Tennant? There was a-a… Misunderstanding."

Oh yes. Sharon remembered now. She may have been called a school bus and snarked at all evening by those detectives, Andrews and Provenza, but she did remember this young woman. Jenna had been beaten rather badly by her officer husband that night, but refused to press charges or even confirm that anything other than a 'bad fall' had happened. Desperate, Sharon had scribbled her home number on the back of a card and slipped it into Jenna's hand with a promise to help her at any time. Jenna's refusal to press charges hadn't kept Sharon from suspending him without pay pending further investigation. But that had been nearly three months ago, now.

"Yes, Jenna. I remember. What can I do for you?"

"You said to call if I needed help." The voice dropped to a whisper now, and Sharon had to strain to hear it. "I need to get out of here. But I'm afraid."

"Are you in danger?"

"No. But he…He hurt my little girl. I don't know what he'll do to her if—"

Calmly cutting across Jenna before she worked herself into a state, Sharon said soothingly, "It's alright. I will come and get you both out safely."

Twenty minutes later, Sharon and Laurie were back in the car, speeding off into the night.

It wasn't procedure, Sharon knew. She knew that going over to the scene of an investigation when she hadn't been invited, off duty and unannounced was not procedure. But every time that rule-following, mildly neurotic voice attempted to convince her to just call it in and let the system work for Jenna, all Sharon could see was Jenna's bruised and bloodied face that night. All she could think about was the fact that the moment anyone broadcasted the situation, an army of blue would arise from nowhere to protect this officer, just as it had that first night. And Jenna and her daughter would be doomed.

"Laurie, I don't know how serious this really is, so I don't have time to drop you off and get my own car." She glanced over at the brunette, who was in the passenger seat this time. "You're going to have to come along. But you have to stay in the car."

Laurie nodded.

"Alright," Sharon said, still very business-like. The wine and fun of the evening was a distant memory. She'd only gotten through about a third of the glass, anyway. The car was silent.

Finally, Laurie spoke.

"Do you do this often? Secret rescue missions?"

Almost cracking a smile, Sharon shook her head. "No. I've never done this before. And it's hardly a secret rescue mission. I'm just providing a young woman and her child an escort. I'll go knock on the door and act as a little extra incentive for young officer Tennant to let them go without a fuss."

Laurie still looked unsure. "And how exactly are you going to do that?"

Smiling reassuringly, Sharon replied, "I outrank him, Laurie. It's as simple as that." Thinking back to their conversation at the restaurant, she continued, "I don't work with criminals like your Dad did, Laurie. Sometimes these officers do bad things. But at their core, they know what is right and what is wrong, and they abide by the same set of rules that I do. A set of rules that says if a sergeant tells them to stand down, they do it." She flexed her fingers against the steering wheel as she spoke. "Those rules are why the police department works. And every officer knows that and respects them."

"Alright," Laurie replied at last. "But I still think you should have called this in or something."

Sharon didn't answer as she pulled up to the curb, putting the car in park and flicking off the headlights quickly.

"Remember. I need you to stay in the car. Don't move from your seat until I come back out."

She pulled her purse up over her shoulder as she got out, ignoring Laurie's sarcastic, "Yes, mother," as Sharon shut the door.

Smiling and rolling her eyes in spite of herself at Laurie's last quip, Sharon made her way up the walkway to the front door. The house was well-lit from the inside, and Sharon rang the doorbell as she mentally prepared herself for the uncomfortable conversation that was surely about to ensue. The door opened almost immediately to reveal a young man that Sharon recognized as Officer John Tennant. Smiling tightly, she extended a hand toward him.

"Good evening. I'm Sergeant Sharon Raydor, we've met a few times, I believe? I'm here to give Jenna and your daughter a ride."

Tennant was tall, stocky, and red-headed. He didn't return her smile or take her hand.

"They're not going anywhere. They don't need you."

He was still blocking her entry into the house.

Adopting a cold, quiet tone while still smiling stonily, she responded, "I think you'll find they do. And if nothing else, I expect respect for my rank at least to earn me a little cordiality." She didn't look away, and finally he stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter half-heartedly, and she did so.

He left the door open behind her as Sharon stepped into the house, looking quickly around the front room for Jenna or her daughter. Her eyes found the little girl first. She was playing with a doll in the corner, wild red hair curling in ringlets down her back as she whispered nearly silently to her doll; she looked to be about six years old. Sharon's eyes, moving past the child now, found Jenna standing stock-still and clearly terrified in a corner. Their gazes met, and Sharon tried to be wordlessly reassuring. Jenna's hand bore a heavy bandage, and Sharon could see several fading bruises on her arms and even one on her face.

"Well, officer, it looks like they may need my help tonight after all," She said calmly to the man still standing behind her. "If you'll stay out of our way please, we'll be off in just a moment."

Tennant grunted incoherently and stalked off into the kitchen, leaving Sharon alone with the rest of his family. Finally speaking to Jenna, Sharon whispered, "Do you have a bag packed? Go and get it very quickly, please. I'll stay in here with your daughter."

Jenna nodded and turned to go down the hallway just to her right, where Sharon assumed her bedroom must be. She crouched down next to the little girl.

"Hello there. I'm Sharon. What's your name?"

The little redhead looked up at her slowly, taking her in before whispering, "Lydia."

For the briefest of moments, Sharon froze at the name. Taking a deep breath before pushing past her initial shock at the coincidence, Sharon smiled at her.

"That's a beautiful name. And you are doing so nice and quiet over here. Almost like a grown up."

Lydia didn't smile back, just looked straight at Sharon as she answered, still in a whisper. "Daddy gets angry when I'm loud."

"Ah. I see." Sharon looked up. Jenna still hadn't returned, and they were alone in the room. "Well that's very good. Now I need you to do something for me. When your Mom comes back, we are all going to walk quietly over to the door, very calmly, and just walk out to my car right outside. Do you think you can do that?"

Nodding slowly, Lydia held up her doll. "Can I bring Sarah with me?"

"Of course you can," Sharon replied. Looking up, she saw Jenna coming back down the hall, and she got back to her feet, whispering down to Lydia, "Alright honey, it's time to go." Leading Lydia to walk in front of her, with Jenna following behind them, they walked over to the door slowly and without a word.

But before they reached it, Tennant stepped back into the room, cutting them off just in front of the door. In a single motion, he'd dragged Lydia away from them by the arm, holding her firmly in front of him with one thick arm while simultaneously leveling a gun at Sharon's face.

Lydia cried out loudly in pain as her arm twisted in her father's grip. Jenna let out a desperate shriek and started to lunge for her child before Sharon's arms instinctively shot out to hold her back, Tennant's gun still inches from her face.

"I remember you," Tennant said finally, speaking over Lydia's stifled cries and Jenna's frightened sobs. Jenna wasn't trying to get to Lydia any longer; she'd fallen to the ground at Sharon's feet, head in her hands, obviously defeated.

"You do?"

Playing for time, Sharon did the only thing she could think of: she kept him talking while she frantically tried to figure out a way to get to her gun.

"Yeah. You're the bitch from the rat squad."

Suddenly, Sharon's heart stopped. Not at the insult; she was hardly listening, and honestly had heard far worse. No, insults didn't faze her now. But one thing did: she had just realized that her gun wasn't in her purse, and she wasn't wearing her holster. Her gun was still in the glove compartment of her car, still halfway across town parked in front of her house. She did not have her gun. Fighting to remain calm, she did her best to keep her voice even.

"Yes, John. I work in Force Investigation. We met a few months ago."

He sneered at her before replying, "Yes. I remember. You're the bitch who nearly got me fired."

His gun still in her face while Sharon continued to run through every possible way to get them out of this, neither Tennant nor Sharon noticed something that changed the situation entirely.

"Is everything alright, Sharon? I heard a—"

Jumping in surprise as Laurie pushed the front door the rest of the way open, Tennant swung around toward her voice in one fluid motion and fired.

As the gun discharged, Sharon lunged, throwing herself toward the door, colliding with Tennant and Lydia, bringing them all to the ground, hard. As they hit the floor, Tennant's arm released Lydia, and Sharon pulled her from his grip, pushing her across the floor and away from their tussle. The gun still in Tennant's hand, Sharon threw her weight against his body, trying with difficulty to hold him to the ground as she made a grab for the gun. Nearly straddling him, one knee held down his left arm while the other, bearing most of her weight, attempted to restrain his torso. His right arm swung around wildly, seeming to shoot at random before Sharon abruptly felt the metal of the gun pressed against her left side. Her hands wrapped around it just as Tennant fired one last time.

White hot pain barreled through her abdomen, seeming to tear her apart from the inside. Sharon fell back, crying out loudly. Her hands were still wrapped around the barrel of the gun Tennant held to her side; she could feel the hot metal burning her palms, but she didn't let go. The impact of the bullet pushed her back, off of Tennant's torso, and as she fell, her foot struck out instinctively and connected with something solid. Sharon heard a cry of pain from Tennant, and somehow, miraculously, he let go of the gun.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, she turned the gun quickly in her hands, pointing it at her assailant, now getting to his feet. Still lying on the ground, she aimed at his face above her.

"Don't move," she said as firmly as she could muster.

Tennant grinned without a word and pulled a hand from behind his back to reveal a long shard of broken glass from the now-broken glass-paned front door. Shards were scattered all over the floor now, and they crunched under his feet as he stepped toward her.

Without hesitation, Sharon fired. One in the kneecap, one in the opposite shoulder, and Tennant went down with a cry of pain.

Lowering the gun, Sharon finally looked around and took stock.

Lydia was curled in a corner behind her, not far from her mother, who seemed to have been cut on her hands and face by some of the falling glass, but was otherwise unscathed. Holding her side and grimacing in pain, Sharon sat up finally and looked toward the front door. Laurie was crumpled in the entryway, half inside the house, and half outside.

Sliding carefully across the glass-strewn floor toward her friend, Sharon ignored her own pain as she made her way over to the doorway, avoiding glass and the now-unconscious Tennant.

"Laurie?"

As she reached the door, she stopped, trying not to panic at the blood pooled under Laurie, lying still, her body strewn across the doorway. Hands shaking, Sharon reached over to Laurie's neck, feeling for a pulse.

It was slow and faint, but it was there. Trying not to think about her own wound, she pulled Laurie more fully into the house, bringing her to rest flat on the floor. Ignoring the amount of blood now smeared in a path into the house, she called over her shoulder to Jenna, still sitting where she'd left her.

"Jenna, I need you to call 911. Right now."

Jenna barely moved, still seemingly in shock. Sharon turned to Lydia, who seemed more aware.

"Lydia, honey? You need to help your Mom find a phone and call the police. Can you do that for me?"

The little redhead nodded once and got to her feet, pulling her mother up as she did so and walking into an adjacent room.

Satisfied that they were alright and doing as she asked, Sharon turned back to Laurie, still pale and unconscious in front of her. The blood was coming from Laurie's abdomen, where Sharon could see two gunshot wounds. Feeling tears threaten, Sharon's hand went automatically up to her forehead, pushing her hair back and rubbing the skin there for a moment, leaving a small trace of blood there from her fingers.

She closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath and pulling herself together.

"Hey."

Sharon's eyes snapped open at the hoarse voice. Still very pale and with a pained expression on her face, Laurie was awake, her eyes opening to find Sharon's.

"Hey."

Beginning to feel faint, Sharon gritted her teeth and removed her jacket, crumpling it into a ball. She could see her own blood trickling down to the floor to join Laurie's now.

"I need to stop the bleeding. You're bleeding. I need to stop it." She pressed her wadded-up jacket to the wounds in Laurie's abdomen. "You're going to be okay, I just have to—"

"Sharon."

Laurie's voice was weak, hoarse, and quieter than Sharon had ever heard it.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

She took a shallow, rattling breath, grimacing.

"—gotten out of the car…"

Ignoring the tears streaming down her face now, Sharon shook her head.

"Shhh. Don't talk. It's my fault. But you're gonna—" She swallowed, choking back a sob. "—You are going to be fine. It's okay."

A hand, surprisingly cold, came up to take hers, pulling it away from the blood-soaked jacket Sharon was still pressing against the wound.

"Sharon," Laurie started shakily, squeezing her hand, "stop." She nodded down at the floor weakly. "Look…at all that blood." She took a few more shallow breaths, coughing a couple of times. Her skin was as white as a sheet; except her lips, now coated with blood from her coughs. "I'm…not gonna…make it," she wheezed out slowly.

Sharon shook her head, pulling her lips between her teeth with determination.

"Yes you are. I just have to stop the bleeding. And then you're going to be fine." She leaned against the wall, one hand holding her own wound, fighting the dizziness and unrelenting pain.

"No, Sharon…you have to…stop." Laurie inhaled shakily again. "You need to…rest…please."

At the last word, Sharon finally relented, sagging against the wall in defeat and letting the tears fall. She pulled Laurie's head and shoulders up into her lap with her last bit of strength, taking her friend's hand tightly in her own.

"I need…to tell…you something." Laurie's voice was growing shakier and fainter, but Sharon nodded, squeezing her hand in encouragement. "You…are strong…Stronger than…Jack…Stronger than me…Than…anyone I know…You have to be…I know." She coughed again, and Sharon smoothed her hair soothingly back from her face, trying to smile through her tears. Laurie took another shaky breath and continued. "But…Ricky and…Em…they have you…they don't need…to be strong…like you. You need…to show them…how to be…fun and…strong. Don't…keep yourself…from them. They need…to trust…you." She smiled tearfully up at Sharon as she finished.

Smoothing Laurie's hair again, Sharon nodded through the tears falling freely down her face.

"I promise," she whispered.

Laurie smiled and let her eyes drift shut. Sharon watched her chest rise and fall with her labored breathing for a minute or so longer, until finally she was still.

No longer able to hold back her weeping, Sharon collapsed in upon herself, cradling Laurie's head in her lap as her body wracked with sobs until eventually the pain and exhaustion and blood loss were too much, and everything went black.

*Ducks and hides from the flying objects* If it makes you all feel any better, I cried too. Please let me know what you think, even if it's just screaming angrily at me. I can take it. Like I said, we're right about at the end here. There is one more short chapter and an epilogue, and I intend to upload them both at the same time, sometime next week hopefully. I'm about to move across the country for a new job, so I'm trying my darndest to finish this before the big move. Anyway. Let me know what you think! Reviews are like a Benjamin Franklin every day!