The community room was quiet and empty in the late morning hours at Taylor Centers For Eating Disorders. Most of the patients are off doing group therapy with their aides keeping sharp eyes on them. Only one patient remained at the tables. Rowena MacLeod sat at the table, cradling her sweet baby boy in her arms as he slept. The little boy in her grasp knew no sorrow or pain, only the warmth and comfort of his mother's arms and her unconditional love. There was no bothersome plan by the devil to thwart or no hunt to join. The aides had gone into their office to try and do some paperwork, and Sam had made some sort of cockamamie excuse to leave so that he didn't have to be around Rowena. It was just Mommy and Baby, just as Rowena preferred it.

Rowena did not move, and kept her breathing as motionless as she could. Being able to watch her baby sleep felt like a dream come true after a whole week apart from him. She understood now that she was holding a miracle. She memorized every contour of his face and body, from the striped shirt he wore under his overalls to the curly mussed shock of brown hair on his head, to the cherubic curve of his cheeks. He had one hand curled into her dress as if it were his favorite blanket. He refused to let go of his mother even in sleep. She believed that on some level he knew that she would soon be gone again and didn't want to miss even the unconscious moments he could spend with her. Rowena was more than happy to oblige him.

These moments were especially precious to her. To her son, she wasn't a woman with an eating disorder. She wasn't a bulimia patient. She wasn't even always seen as a witch. She was just a mother. And when her baby looked at her, eyes full of infinite wonder, she saw her purpose.

Often times, the voice of Mia would whisper doubts into her ear. You're fat! She'd say. If you're going to stuff yourself like a pig, you better have a way to get all of that fat out of you! Even more than that, she would always say things like, You're life means nothing. You have nobody. Who would ever want a fatty like you?

Sometimes Mia was so loud that she couldn't hear herself think. But when those thoughts started coming in, she could sit up in her chair and point to her son. Her life meant everything to him. He loved her. He wanted and needed her. He thought she had value, and that had to mean something. That was the only time she ever had the courage or the strength to disagree with Mia. It was the only time Mia was wrong.

Now, She felt Fergus stir in her lap and started smiling. His chocolate brown eyes opened up to stare at her as he wiggled awake. She smiled.

"Good morning my wee sausage." She crooned, scooping him up. She felt him nuzzle her happily in a sort of greeting. She kissed him all over, from his forehead, to his button nose, to his chubby cherub cheeks. Then his arms, his stomach, his legs, both scraped knees, and finally his toes. He squealed delightedly with each new kiss as if it were the best thing to ever happen to him. When she stopped, he was grinning happily.

"How's my wee boy today?" She crooned. He giggled and it made her grin. "How about you and I have a bit of fun, hmmm?" She said, bouncing him gently. She looked over at the book she'd left on the table last night and pointed to it with her index finger. "Et volant sursum."

The book, placed spine up on the table in front of her, lifted up in the air a few inches before it began flapping it's covers in an attempt to fly. It zoomed overhead just out of Fergus' reach. He stared at it in awe and reached up to it, laughing loudly. The sound was so delicious it made Rowena join in and enchant a few more books just to see the wonder on his face. She couldn't help the grin that crossed her face as she listened to his squeals of delight. She beamed at her son, happy that he was having so much fun. When he wiggled and squirmed happily in her grip it made her smile widen. This was by far the most rewarding feeling she had ever experienced.

She wondered how she could have missed this the first time around. How had she not felt his joy? How could she have not felt this sense of purpose? She tried thinking back to that time in her life, but it was like trying to see through murky water. That time in her life had long since passed. Trying to remember that way of thinking was like trying to drive a car by pedaling a bike. It made absolutely no sense to her now. The clarity and enlightenment that she had felt since repairing her relationship with her son had made that way of thinking obsolete. She knew that she would never go back to the way things were before. She couldn't, and never would. Not with the way things had turned out.

She had to stifle a laugh and quickly disenchant the books when the aides came out from their office. Fergus was still laughing though, a beautiful, musical sound, and because he was, she was too. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He was the thing that mattered most to her in the entire world. He was joy incarnate, and hope eternal. He was the thing she looked for in the darkest nights of her life. He was the reason she was able to carry on in here when all she desperately wanted was to give up. He was her reason to keep fighting.

And for him, she would win.