Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

Rating: M

A/N: I hate having work sitting in my folder, written and ready. I'm too impatient to post it. :) So expect the last part to be up soon-ish too. Thank you for such a great and worthwhile response to the first part. I loved every comment! So I hope you like this one too. :)

Concentrated Fury - Part Two...

I was on my shift at the hospital when I got the call from Brad sending my mind into a tailspin and my emotions whirring and threatening to go out of control. I was paged that I had an urgent call, and seeing as I didn't have any patients to see to I went straight to the reception desk of A&E and took the phone. The sound of Brad's jittery shaking voice and quick babbled explanation before I even finished my hello instantly had me on alert and trying to listen to what he was saying as clearly as possible. In the end, I had to all but shout his full-name down the receiver before he went quiet and spoke to me in slow, deliberate words. An edge of hysteria to his voice no matter how calm he tried to keep it.

And then I heard something in the background and I felt acid churn in my stomach.

"Brad," I asked trying to keep my voice as steady as possible, breaking through his startled and shaken words, closing my eyes and clenching the phone in my hand so tight it almost cracked. I was aware of a nurse at the station watching me and a fellow doctor friend raise his attention to me too. "Brad, why can I hear Nickolas with you? What's going on? What's happened? Where is Susannah?" I reeled off quickly. My questions more an order than a request.

I heard him take a deep breath before whispering something to my son. His voice soon came back to the line though.

"I went round your house, I was supposed to be dropping something off for Suze I forgot to do earlier when Mom asked me to. But when I knocked she wasn't answering and I could hear a scuffle and the sounds of broken plates coming from inside. I thought you were having a fight or something but I couldn't hear shouting. So I just let myself in," He paused and took another breath. His voice, when he spoke again, was filled with strain, confusion and concern. "Look Jesse, I don't know what I saw. I don't know what the heck is going on - "

"What did you see, Brad?" I cut in, my patience growing thin due to my rising fear for my family.

"I saw Suze, on the kitchen floor with . . . with stuff flying at her from the cupboards. But no-one was there, Jesse! Just Suze looking really beat up and ready to pass out. I didn't know what to do, man. I couldn't move, she was just - Suze just - Shit! Jesse, she screamed at me to get Nicky out of there! I was going to help her but she stopped me. She begged me to get him out so I did. I went upstairs and got him away from whatever fucked up shit was going on in the kitchen. What the hell did I leave her alone with?! I know she's a bit freaky and has this big secret. But - Jesse you have to get home, NOW!" He shrieked his panic back in full force again.

I opened my eyes and snapped into action. "I'm leaving now. Take Nicky to yours. I'll call you when I can." And I disconnected the call, handing the phone back to the receptionist and turning to Dr Tom Wells beside me, my expression saying it all.

"Go, I'll sort everything out." He simply said.

I gave him a curt nod and took off for the staff changing rooms as quick as I could through the halls. I changed out of my white coat and into my jacket within minutes, racing out of the doors and to my car. I was on auto-pilot, trying not to jump to conclusions with a part of me hoping Brad was exaggerating as he likes to do. But hearing Nicky in the background and listening to Brad say Susannah begged him to get our son out of the house . . . My worst fears were quickly making themselves known. And all I could do was pray Susannah hadn't done anything stupid once Nicky was safe. That she hadn't given in and shifted.

But as soon as I thought it I knew it wasn't the truth. And I already suspected she hadn't done anything to fight back either. Not with Nicky in the house and potentially making the situation even worse than it already seemed to be. Before Nicky was born, she would have jumped at the chance at putting a ghost in their place. But if the spirit I'm starting to suspect was the one that did the kicking, then she wouldn't have stood a chance against him anyway.

And that thought alone only served to make me want to take a detour once I saw to Susannah. My first and top priority at that moment.

I barely remember any of the drive home. As soon as I'd handed the phone back I had automatically switched over to something else. A different kind of me than the one who's a doctor and knows how to deal with a crisis. All I could think about was Brad's explanation; as stilted, sketchy and awkward as it had been. But I got the general gist of what he was saying easily enough. And I sub-consciously put my food down on the pedal harder, driving away from Carmel Memorial Hospital and to home without paying much attention to any other cars or the way I was shaking from tension. And a very deep fury.

I screeched into the driveway, lurching forward from hitting the break and barely shutting off the engine before I had the door open. I could hear Galen's raucous barking even from the front of the house and ran for the front door without stopping to think of what I might be running into. That the danger to my family could still be in the house and Susannah could still have been caught in it. All I knew, was Susannah had been hurt. Badly. And someone had put not only her, but our son in danger too.

That's all a father and lover has to know.

Running through the door, I left it wide open. Looking down the hall, my vision became tunnelled and blackened. My heart thumped harder, louder than before in my chest. My hands shaking and sweating, my throat constricting the air to my lungs. Because all I could picture, all I could see was Susannah's crumpled body lying on the kitchen floor surrounding by chaos and mess. Her hair covering her face where she lay on her front, her face turned to the floor and obscuring the blood. She was beaten and bloody and I couldn't get to her quick enough as I ran down the hall, pushing my shock aside and concentrating on what I was witnessing.

Within seconds I was kneeling by her and calling out her name.

"Querida?" I called desperately, my eyes scanning her bloody face, bare scratched arms and the way her breathing was shallow and barely seen. The concern I had before hit full force now. She wasn't just beaten, she was broken. Never in all our years together, had a ghost been this spiteful and murderous towards her. Not since the RLS Angels. I reached out for the pulse in her wrist finding it slow, but steady enough. Then I looked up and around her, brushing aside the broken china before I gently stroked a hand over her hair, calling her again. "Susannah, can you hear me?" I continued to caress my fingers through her bloody hair, pushing it away from her face, my brow furrowing and bile rising in my throat the more I looked at her and took in the damage.

It all reminded me far too much of the four troubled teens. But I suspected this wasn't like that. This was worse.

Slowly, ever so excruciatingly slowly, Susannah opened her normally sparkling eyes to me. Blinking; each time seeming as though she wouldn't open them again. Finally she did, resting them on mine, glazed and dazed. The corners of her mouth tilted up the slightest bit, blood oozing from a split lip as she tried to smile at me even in her weakened and fragile state. Shakily she reached out a hand all scratched from what I assumed was the broken plates lying around her in pieces, and wrapped her stiff fingers around my own. Her eyes pleaded with me, even though I could see the fight draining out of her with each second she laid there, trying desperately to stay awake.

"Nicky - Where's Nicky, Jesse?" She croaked, her lips barely moving making the words sound mumbled and barely spoken.

But I understood perfectly. "Brad has him, querida. He's safe, I promise." I soothed, watching her eyes close and catching a few mumbled words before her fingers loosened around mine and she passed out. "Jesús Cristo, Susannah. Who did this to you?" I asked despairingly, some of the tension releasing slightly from getting a response from her. Slow and sluggish as it may have been, it was something. I looked away from her beautiful and bruised face and looked around the kitchen again, not seeing anyone that didn't belong there. Meaning the culprit had long since gone from our home. And I doubted satisfied.

But how? What had stopped him? Brad perhaps? I didn't know. But when I looked back, my attention was caught by a large glint of metal I zeroed on. A large knife.

At that moment, my anger that had been sitting bubbling and boiling waiting to have the chance to rise to the surface did so. Rightfully igniting and making my hands curl into tight fists. I wanted nothing more than to wrap them around the neck of the ghost that had done this. Broken them like they broke my alma gemela. I cursed a long string of words at the bastardo to have hurt her not just physically, but mentally too.

Just looking at Susannah and seeing what a complete state she was helped me to piece together a little of what happened, basing it on how well I know her and how she would have reacted. Because I know, the one thing that would have stopped her from lashing out and standing up for herself is Nicky. Nothing else in the world would make her take a beating no matter the spirits size or weight. She would have done something. As it was this time, the only thing she could do it seemed, was distract him. Anything, to keep him from going for Nicky. The terror alone at the thought would have out-weighed her righteous anger.

It's something I would have felt myself. But it wouldn't have mattered how much Susannah could try to fight back; a ghost will keep going until they have reached the line and crossed it. I saw it when I was a ghost myself. Long before I met Susannah and then after. No amount of brute strength can give you endless amounts of energy to take repeated beatings after a time. And Susannah had to go through that on her own. Had to suffer through the fear and stay strong until something or someone stepped in and helped her.

And if it was who I think it was, then he put my family in severe danger. There is no forgiveness for that.

"Cuando llegue a mis manos en torno a que el próximo cabrones, voy a lo fácil." I promised, brushing a hand through Susannah's hair, dislodging a few pieces of broken china as I did so, closing my eyes and trying to control my anger at just how much pain she must have been in, but hadn't given in to it. How she had been driven by her desire to protect our son. A desire I can easily share. Because I was feeling it. The wish to sweep my family into my arms and protect and keep them safe. Heal them both. "I'll sort this out, querida. I won't let another spirit hurt you or Nicky ever again. I promise you that." I murmured so quietly, she wouldn't have been able to hear even if she was awake.

And then I did the only thing I could think of. I called an ambulance.

xXx

I sat in the hard uncomfortable chair beside Susannah's hospital bed over two hours later, my head bowed and my arms resting on the rough blanket covering her. One of her hands held in mine, my mind slowly going over many things, but never with a straight thought. I thought about Nicky and how upset he must have been to have been suddenly taken away from his home and no doubt how disturbed he must have been hearing all the commotion from downstairs. I wanted nothing more to go and get him, to reassure myself that he was okay and hold him in my arms. But my duty was to sit by Susannah's bed and wait for her to wake up.

But I'd called Brad after I got Susannah to the hospital and checked in on him. Thankfully he was sleeping, unlike his uncle who had many questions for me. None I could answer though. The only thing I could do was give him a story he needed to use to cover up the truth of what had happened. I told the paramedics when they arrived at the scene, that Susannah had fallen down the stairs, got herself to her kitchen and managed to call her brother before she passed out. They know me from the hospital, so they didn't question the validity of the explanation. And I told Brad to go along with it. That he had come to the house when she had called him, so he could take Nicky and thus he had called me. Panic stalling him from doing the right thing.

It was barely a story, but it would have to do.

But he only promised to keep that cover going for the rest of Susannah's family if I made the promise to tell him what was going on. I made it.

My mind whirred through the drama of when we first stepped into A&E, Susannah still unconscious on a gurney, with multiple wounds. I brushed off Dr Wells' questions, and let him take her away for the tests and treatment she needed. Leaving me standing there, watching after them wheeling her away. Reversed role for the first time. I couldn't go with them and part of me didn't want to. So I paced the waiting room after calling my brother-in-law. When they came back with her over an hour and a half later, settling her into a private room off to the side and away from prying eyes, he gave me the full account of her injuries. Some I had already suspected as I had checked her over as best I could while waiting for the ambulance to arrive. Some I didn't realize were so severe.

"She has a severely bruised back and three cracked ribs, Jesse," Dr Wells had said to me once he had Susannah settled in her room and pulled me aside. "The cut above her eye is minor, as are the scratches to her arms. She has a nasty bump on her head and a few cuts that just needed cleaning. There was a deeper wound we found covered by her hair. Like she hit the corner of a blunt object. But we stitched that up. She's going to have a very nasty headache when she wakes up, due to the concussion she has. And she has a nasty bruise to her right leg and deep tissue damage."

"We x-rayed it because we suspected it was broken," He continued, shaking his head and glancing at Susannah who looked more like a victim of a mugging, before looking back to me. "But I have no idea how she came to get it from just falling down the stairs. It's almost to the equivalent of being whacked with a baseball bat. Deliberately." He stopped and looked at me carefully, dropping his voice so the nurse couldn't hear him.

"Jesse are you sure she fell down the stairs? These injuries don't suggest - "

"Trust me, I have no reason to lie to you, Tom," I'd cajoled, staring over at Susannah and hoping he would drop the subject as the guilt rushed over me. Having to lie to a friend wasn't something I like doing. Unfortunately it was very necessary. And it just made me realize the burden Susannah had to endure all the years she was alone carrying the weight and down-side to her gift. When I'd turned back to him, my expression was blank and un-giving. "Thank you for taking care of her." I'd simply said, my heavy tone giving him pause and taking my sincerity for what it was.

He'd given me one short nod before he'd left me alone with her.

But the one emotion I couldn't and knew I wouldn't shake off anytime soon, was the anger. At myself for not being there, even though I know there was no way of knowing it was going to happen. But I let the whisper in that I could have done something ages ago. Stopped him somehow. And the fury with the spirit for backing her into a corner and doing such heinous things to her. And I knew none of that anger would evaporate anytime soon. Not when I finally got to see her wake. Or when I hold my son close to me. And part of me didn't want to let it go. I wanted it to fester and grow and build. For my own reasons.

I raised my head and stared at her bruised face. They had cleaned up her bloody nose showing the swelling, her lip and the cut above her eye. Now all she looked was pale, tired, but still beaten. The yellow, purple bruise on her jaw and above her eye was growing more distinct and only made worse against her pale skin.

I turned away before I gave in to the urge to pick up my chair and throw it across the room. Just as I felt the fingers I held flex and twitch against mine. I looked back to Susannah and stood up, peering down into her face, silently calling for her to wake up. The amount of time she had been asleep was disconcerting. They had given her an MRI to check if there was any swelling to her brain from the bump to the front of her head and the gash hidden in her hair. But it seems Susannah was lucky again. I watched and waited intently for her eyes to flutter open and finally look at me. She looked exhausted and in pain.

But it didn't stop her from trying to talk.

"Try not to speak, querida," I quickly said, rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand before I let it go and reached out for her cup of water with a straw beside the bed. I lifted the straw to her dry lips. "Take small sips. You don't want to make yourself feel sick. And as you can probably tell, you have cracked ribs so it's going to be sore even to try and suck down on the straw," I carried on, putting the cup back down and re-taking her hand. "Welcome back," I softly said, emotion choking my voice making it sound rougher than normal. I reached out my other hand and cupped her pale cheek and she leaned into the warmth. "Susannah I'm sorry. I should have been there - "

"Don't, Jesse," She croaked, coughing slightly and wincing, a hand flying to her ribs instinctively trying to relieve the pressure. With cracked ribs it can be very painful just to breathe. When she got her breath back she sighed back into the cushion, tightening her hand around mine. In pain and relief. "Don't start doing the blame game; no-one deserves it but the bastard that put me here in the first place. And I would do it all again if it meant protecting Nicky. So don't go there, please." Her tone was hard even in her weakened state.

But her eyes were moist and pleading.

Doing the only thing I could think to do to comfort her, I removed my hand from her face and leant forward to press a soft kiss to her forehead. The end of her nose. Her cheek that was bruised and the cheek barely marked. Before gently placing my lips over hers. Barely there, but felt right down to the very deep depths of my soul. When I pulled away, a tear slipped down her cheek and I brushed it away with my rough thumb, not saying a word, my actions saying everything I needed to right then. And her tremulous thank you was all I needed to know I had done the right thing and helped shoulder some of the hurt only I will ever take upon me.

For a few minutes we stayed there, staring at each other, until we were interrupted by the door opening and Dr Wells stepping into the room with a nurse. When he saw Susannah was awake and as alert as she could be, he stepped over to the other side of her bed with a smile and a warm greeting. "It's good to see you awake, Miss Simon," He commented, taking his penlight out of his pocket and flicking it in and away from Susannah's eyes. She scowled at him but otherwise said nothing. "How's the pain?" He asked, watching her expression intently, waiting for her to answer him.

"What pain?" She drawled sarcastically. Her snappy, agitated side coming through. Our moment together behind us. "I feel fine. And if you wouldn't mind, I would like to go home."

"I'm sorry but that's not going to be possible. You've been unconscious for a large amount of time for someone who only fell down the stairs. And I would like to keep you in overnight for observation. We'll run some more tests in the morning and send you for another MRI just to be sure there is no swelling. And those ribs won't take kindly to be jostled about so soon. So I'm afraid you won't be leaving until tomorrow afternoon earliest. Now I'm going to give you something for the pain that should take the edge off it for you. And I want you to rest as much as possible. No getting stressed and plenty of fluids. I'll be back soon to check up on you." He gave me a nod and smiled at Susannah before leaving. The nurse who had injected Susannah's medication into her I.V. line following after him.

As soon as they were gone she rounded on me.

"What did you have to bring me here for?" She spat angrily, wincing again as she tried to sit up and jarred her body violently. "You didn't have to do that. Now they're going to ask all these questions and it's pretty obvious what elaborate lie you've come up with isn't working. It doesn't take a genius to work out I've had the crap kicked out of me." She huffed, her breaths short and hard from her quick string sentence and binding of her cracked ribs.

"I didn't have any choice, Susannah. You could have had any number of things wrong with you. No amount of home care would have been able to help. You needed the hospital and this is where you're staying. Don't - " I cut her off before she could object about it. I rarely put my foot down and really force Susannah. If anything, I try everything I can to placate her. But not this time. Not when she had yet another brush with death. "I don't want to hear it Susannah. I didn't know what to think when I received Brad's call and he told me what he saw. What a state you were in. And it did nothing to prepare me for finding you that way. I don't ever want to come home to find you like that again. Knowing Nicky was in the house and in just as much danger. Never. So please, do what I'm asking of you, and stay here and rest. Please."

I released the breath I hadn't realized I was holding and softened my gaze on her. Seeing the war behind her eyes.

"Nicky is safe and you are in the best place for you. I know you don't want to be here. But it's just until tomorrow. Do you think you can wait that long?" I looked her in the eye, waiting for her to either push the issue or let it drop. But what she said next, made me feel even worse than before.

"I didn't want you to find me that way either Jesse. And I'm sorry I snapped at you about bringing me here," She held out her hand for me to take, tugging me closer. "I guess I just reacted, again. I wasn't exactly thrilled to wake up here. I'd rather be at home with you and Nicky. But what's happened is done. And I mean what I said; I would do it all again to protect Nicky. In a heartbeat. I know who you're mad at and trust me, I'm right there with you. But Nicky's more important to me right now and I just want to have him back in my arms."

I sighed and leaned down closer to her, resting my forehead to hers.

"I know you do, Susannah. And you will, soon. I promise. When you get home tomorrow, Nicky will be there waiting for you," I quietly spoke, closing my eyes to breathe in the scent of Susannah even through all the medicinal smells, I could still breathe in the relaxing and familiar presence of her. "I just don't want to think about how close I could have come to losing you both, querida. All I want to do right now is put you both somewhere safe. But I know there's going to be other incidents and other ghosts. That it was inevitable it would happen sooner or later. But - "

"But that doesn't make you feel any better about it, I know," Susannah quietly finished for me both knowing it to be the cold hard truth. "But you know you can't get rid of me that easily, Jesse. And no amount of beating will keep me from making sure they never get to Nicky. And I know, you, will keep us both away safe. So really, I have nothing to worry about now do I?" She asked softly, her voice like honey and gliding over my anger to cool and sweeten it. Placating me like I would have done her in a normal situation.

I opened my eyes and stared at her, lifting my head away from hers.

"You're right. I won't ever let anything happen to my family," I said. My tone came across as strong and promising. But on the inside, in my heart, it was spoke with venom and anger. With a threat hanging on the precipice for anyone to compromise that promise. And judging from the darkening of Susannah's eyes, I know she sensed it to. But she said nothing. Knowing instinctively, that she couldn't. "Now tell me what happened?" I carried on, my voice light and enquiring. I pulled over my chair and re-took my seat, looking up at Susannah questioningly. All ready to hear the tale that would feed the monster lurking within me.

She hesitated for only a second before she sighed and told me.

She said she had just put Nicky down for bed when she became aware of another presence behind her. Turning to come face to face with Stuart, the ghost who had been pestering Susannah for the past couple of weeks. The one I had suspected in the first place. She told him again there wasn't anything she could do to help him. But he turned the tables; he brought up the idea of shifting and having his life back. Things quickly spiralled out of control when she told him she couldn't and wouldn't do it. The rest, as she put it, wasn't pretty. He had tackled her, punched her hard enough to send her hurtling down the stairs and all but chased her into the kitchen. She sugar-coated a lot of it, down-playing it, missing out pieces. And then she told me of the flying dishes and finding Brad standing in the hallway shocked and confused.

Her voice broke when she reencountered screaming for him to get Nicky out of the house. And it took a few minutes for her to regain her composure before she continued.

Once she knew he was out of the house and away from Stuart she wanted to fight back, but found she was far too weak. Until she grasped the knife I had seen lying on the kitchen floor and stabbed him in the gut with it. It was quick and easy thinking on her part, and I silently applauded her for her doing it. Many spirits don't realize they can be hurt by mediators, even if it does only last a few seconds. It was just enough to shock Stuart and he disappeared, not going back.

"The next thing I knew, you were calling me. But the whole time, all I could think about was distracting him and getting him away from Nicky. And it worked. Thanks to Brad too," She finished, her eyes getting heavy and her words slowing considerably. "He must've called you as soon as he got Nicky far enough away. I don't even want to know how, but I'm glad he did. I owe him a new set of barbells or something," She joked, her hand going lax in mine. "Geez, how much meds did he pump me with?" She slurred, her eyes barely open now. "Damn - doctors. And their - damn - syringes . . ."

On the next breath, Susannah was asleep.

Smiling with the slightest relief at seeing a spark of the woman I love shining through, even though her situation was traumatic. I gently laid her hand down on the mattress and stood up to kiss her on the forehead. "I love you, querida," I murmured against her cool skin, my hand lightly fluttering down her splayed hair across the pillow. "Thank you for protecting our son. Thank you for being you." I whispered reverently, stepping away from the bed, smiling at the small smile on Susannah's lips. Hearing me somehow. I stepped away from the bed and made my way for the door. Silently praying someone would be there to watch over her for the rest of the night before I could be with her again and slipped out of the door.

Going in search of our precious son.

xXx

It was close to 10.30pm when I finally walked back through my front door with Nicky in my arms. Grouchily awake and rubbing his eyes. Entering our home the second time, I became alert to the tense atmosphere and shroud that seemed to fall on me as soon as the door was shut tight behind me. As though the violence was echoing and seeping into the walls. Creating an unwelcome memory. The fear almost lingering. And the anger from the ghost, unsated.

I'd had a quick word with Dr Wells before I left the hospital, speaking about Susannah and discussing when I would be back. He said he would speak to our higher up and tell them of the family emergency, giving me a few days for compassionate leave. But I also made the mental note of calling them myself. Finally I left the hospital again. Reluctant to leave Susannah, but knowing my new priority was Nicky now Susannah was in the best place. And I climbed in my car I had used to follow the ambulance and set off for Brad's home.

He looked frazzled, nervous and agitated when I'd arrived. Happily handing a whining and sleepy Nicky over into my arms.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" He asked quietly, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes darkly determined watching me settle Nicky in my arms. "'Cos I've been thinking 'bout it since you called. And some things are starting to fall in to place. What I saw in that kitchen wasn't natural, Jesse. Something was there, I just couldn't see it," He continued, his words, slow and deliberate. The quiet of the house and a drowsy Nicky making the tense atmosphere grow. "I know you all think I'm stupid and I don't get it. But I see more than you think and I have a right to know."

I looked down to Nicky, his little fist rubbing at his eyes the way he does when he's passed tired. And then I looked back up to Brad, a sad, disappointed expression written clear across my face. I know it was, because I was too exhausted myself to try and cover it. He was right; he saw more than I had enough lies to cover. And he did have a right to know. But it didn't stop me from being disappointed he had to find out in such a way.

Sad that he had to find out at all.

"You're right. Something - someone,was there. But it's not my place to explain it to you. That's for Susannah to do," I answered finally. He looked liked he would object, but he soon just nodded and accepted that with a silent look from me. "If you can hold on to your patience a little while longer, she'll do it when she's better," I tucked Nicky closer to myself and turned towards his apartment door, slipping through it before I turned around and said one more thing. "Thank you for getting Nicky out." And I turned back to the stairs, forgetting about his shocked expression from the emotion building in my voice as I gave him my gratitude. I know he understood just how grateful I was. What I didn't say he got him away from.

Back at home, I walked Nicky over to his walker and placed him in there for his safety while I took off my shoes and jacket and walked into the kitchen preparing to clean up the mess. But one look at it made me want to turn around and head back for my son and go straight to bed. Instead, I grabbed the broom and swept up all the broken plates and anything that had flown from the cupboards or fridge. Putting it all in the bin before placing the drawers back in their places and picking up the knives, forks and spoons and placing them in the sink. I cleaned up the mess on the small landing on the stairs, righting the plant pot and sweeping the soil into a pile to deal with tomorrow. And finally returned to the kitchen to clean up the last bit I had been putting off.

Susannah's blood on the tiled floor.

I didn't think about how it was put there, I just concentrated on the sounds of Nicky's whines and murmurs from the gate barring him, watching me clean. Making me work faster and more efficiently. Once that was done, I finally opened the back door and let Galen run back through the house barking and whining, running through the living room and up to Nicky. Sniffing him making sure he was okay. Before he ran back up to me, pawing and keening at my feet.

"I know, boy," I said tiredly, crouching down to his level and giving him the comfort he was trying to give to both Nicky and me. I tucked my head into his neck, running my hands down his soft fur. "I'm sorry we left you outside. From now on, when Susannah and Nicky are here alone, you are to be in this house at all times; excepting the garden break. Okay?" I asked him, receiving a lick to my hand.

That was comfort enough for me.

I got up and put some food down for him, making a mental note to install a dog-door for him so he could come and go as he pleases. Then I shut off all the lights, locked the doors and got Nicky back into my arms. Accepting the baby hug he was giving me, laying his head to my shoulder, his eyes already becoming droopy. By the time I had gotten all the lights off and was upstairs, he was sound asleep. I walked into his nursery and laid him down on his changing station. Changing him quickly. He went undisturbed. When I was done I walked over to his crib preparing to put him back to bed. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't bear the thought of laying him down and going back to Susannah and my room without him.

So I left his nursery and took him down to our room, throwing aside the rule of not having him in our bed with us for once. I laid him down gently, tucking pillows and the comforter around him so he wouldn't roll off the bed if he woke. Then I got changed, used the bathroom and got a blanket to lay over him so he wouldn't get cold. Within minutes I was lying next to him, my arm curled protectively around him, watching his little chest rise and fall. But sleep didn't come to me quite so easily. And I lay awake until the sun rose and he stirred, watching him the whole time. My mind elsewhere. Back at the hospital with Susannah. In dream land with my son. But most of all –

On the anger sitting inside me, feeding the monster, lurking and waiting for it's time to come forth.

A/N 2: Thanks for reading. Please review! With huggles for poor Jesse and Nicky. :(

Anonymous review replies are on my profile page again. Sorry ladies! x