Mrs. Goodall wasn't sure what to say when she came home that afternoon. She got to leave work early to attend her first meeting with a support group. Though she didn't like to think or talk about it she had to move past the night of Emma's conception. Somehow, Mr. Morris impregnated her, and whether or not she had consented to the act was a mystery to her, but it wouldn't get between her and her daughter. Emma seemed to want answers, and while Mrs. Goodall would do all she could to shield Emma from a bad answer; she owed it to her daughter to not let that night affect her.

She didn't say much at her first meeting. She spent most of the time listening to others. She was in a group with women and men who had been sexually or physically assaulted either by strangers or by people she cared about. When listening to their stories, Mrs. Goodall noticed a pattern that was quite similar to what she could remember of her own experience. At the same time, these people seemed much more emotionally damaged than she, and it didn't feel right to hurt as much as they did.

But when she did tell her story, people seemed interesting. One man, who had been verbally abused by his wife for over a decade until she died, pointed out that he thought Emma was right. He felt Mrs. Goodall had suppressed the memory until recently, but that while Emma was growing up, her subconscious knew the truth and wanted her to stay away from her daughter. It was certainly a better excuse than what she had for abandoning Emma, but Mrs. Goodall just wanted her excuse to be true.

Either way, she had a lot more questions about what happened now that she had gone to her first meeting. So when she came home, and Mrs. Moran asked her how her meeting had gone, she couldn't give an answer.

"I think I need more."

"If people were cured after a session, counsellors and psychologists would be out of job."

"Maybe that's why they always convince you to come back. Of all people, they would know how to trick you."

"As long as you're comfortable," Mrs. Moran smiled. The front door opened again and this time it was all the Rangers coming in at once.

"The baby's asleep. Riley's upstairs playing Samurai princess with her toys," Mrs. Moran announced to Kevin and Mia.

"Why is everyone here?" Mrs. Goodall asked.

"We're going to train some more," Troy said.

"Yeah, Gia just told us about dragon Dr. Oliver," Jake nodded his head. "Sounds pretty freaky to me."

"We just stopped by for some snacks," Gia said as she walked into the kitchen. "Then we're going to head out to the woods."

"And I wanted to get my camera," Emma smiled. "We'll be out until late tonight."

"Why?"

"There's the meteor shower," Emma turned to her mother. "I wanted to get some pictures."

"A meteor shower? You know, I've never seen one before."

"Want to come? We're going to the edge of town, on the cliffs that overlook the city. It's got an amazing view. Noah says we'll see everything from there."

"Yeah. I don't have any plans," Mrs. Goodall smiled warmly to her daughter and then turned to Mrs. Moran, "Vanessa?"

"Count me in. It should be fun," Mrs. Moran nodded her head. Jake grumbled under his breath. Noah nudged him.

"Don't be rude."

"Dude, my girlfriend's mother is going to be with us when we watch the meteor showers."

"So?"

"It's supposed to be romantic."

"Everyone else is going to be there anyways."

"Yeah… oh, what do you know, you're not a romantic."

Noah rolled his eyes.

"Alright, I've got my camera," Emma said as she came back down the stairs after going to her room to grab her camera. "Gia…"

"You guys go ahead. I'll catch up," Gia grumbled as she stared into the fridge. "I've got to make water bottles."

All eyes turned to Emma. She let out a heavy sigh.

"Do you have any idea how many water bottles end up in landfills every year? Water from the tap is free and reusable bottles are better for the environment."

"They are also a bitch to fill when you've got a team and a half of thirsty Rangers," Gia muttered as she started to dig through the cupboards.

"We'll get set up, then. Keep your…"

"Morpher on me," Gia finished for Jake. "I know, I know."

As the Rangers filed out of the house, Mrs. Moran watched. Then she turned her attention to Mrs. Goodall, who seemed to be on her laptop already and from what Mrs. Moran could see on the screen, she was looking up more stories of people who had gone through what she had gone through the night Emma had been conceived. Then Mrs. Moran turned to Gia and a thought occurred to her. She remembered reading the script for the play the drama students at school had written, based off a suggestion Gia made to help the younger students be aware. She remembered Gia explaining to her she wanted to prevent or help students from suffering like she had.

"You know, Gia, I doubt we have enough reusable water bottles for everyone," Mrs. Moran said and walked to her purse, "I'll give you some money and you and Claire can go down to the store and pick up some more. You can even colour coordinate."

"We're going to have to," Gia muttered. "Unless Emma doesn't mind drinking out of the colander. I'll just grab a few extra things for tonight."

Gia hurriedly made her way upstairs, which gave Mrs. Goodall a chance to turn to her best friend and smirk.

"Vanessa, I can't go…"

"Look, instead of reading stories online of faceless people with sob stories, I'm going to let you use my daughter."

"Vanessa…"

"Claire, it helps when you're not alone. Gia wants to help people, and I think she'd be really good at it. If there's someone you want to talk to…"

"What Gia went through was…"

"Horrible. Disgusting. Degrading. Demoralizing. Humiliating."

"I'm not even going to compare what I went through to that," Mrs. Goodall shook her head.

"No one knows Mr. Morris like Gia would. She dated his son. Suffered at the hands of his son. Surely Cliff picked up a few tricks from the old man. Maybe she can shed a little light on what happened to you."

"She wasn't even born yet. How would she…?"

"Claire, stop making excuses," Mrs. Moran leaned against the table. She looked her best friend in the eyes. "Your daughter wants you to be okay."

"I'm trying. I'm really trying…"

"The first step is admitting you have a problem," Mrs. Moran said. "Now, we don't know what happened, but that night you were drunk, you felt sick, some stranger took you home and you woke up the following morning with no memory of what happened and completely naked and nine months later a baby came out of you. You were hurt. You have to accept that. Gia can help you."

"Gia and I aren't even friends," Mrs. Goodall shook her head. "You know I'd do anything for that girl, but we're not… I mean, I'd… she and I…"

"You abandoned her best friend growing up. I get it," Mrs. Moran said.

"It wouldn't be right asking her to help me with something like this. It'll be bringing up horrible memories for her, talking about uncomfortable things…"

"Do you think I liked hearing it?"

"Vanessa…"

"Claire, just once. Drive her to the store, pick up the water bottles, and then drive her up to the woods. If it gets too uncomfortable, just stop."

"You're not giving up on this, are you?"

"I want you to get the help you need," Mrs. Moran said. "And by doing this, you'll be helping Gia too. She wants to use what happened to her to help other people. Last night, she said if her play could help just one person, everything she suffered would be worth it."

"So now I have to be that person?"

"Can you please just try?"

"Vanessa…"

"Joe and I raised your daughter."

"One day, that's not going to work anymore," Mrs. Goodall sighed and got up from the chair. She walked to the hallway and saw Gia waiting by the door, "C'mon. Emma shouldn't have to drink from a colander."

"She's prefer it over a plastic bottle, given the choice," Gia rolled her eyes and followed Mrs. Goodall out the door.

They got to the car and it was silent. Gia had her back pack with her and on the way out to the car she took her mountain board from the garage. When Mrs. Goodall asked about it, Gia simply said between training and the meteor shower she was going to go for a ride.

When they got to the store, Mrs. Goodall grabbed a basket and they started to look around for the water bottles. As they made their way around, Mrs. Goodall knew she would have to say something or she would have to listen to Mrs. Moran nag her when she got home.

"Your mother says you're helping with a play at school."

"Yeah," Gia nodded her head and she found the water bottles. Mrs. Goodall was about to grab one but Gia shook her head. "You know Emma. It's got to be green."

Mrs. Goodall frowned and reached for a green coloured bottle. Gia chuckled and shook her head.

"That's not the green I meant. Just hold the basket; they've got them here somewhere."

Mrs. Goodall nodded her head and did as she was told, but continued talking.

"So the play… it's about Cliff?"

"Uh… yeah," Gia answered. "Not just Cliff. It's kind of a mix of what happened to Rebecca and me. The drama kids were seriously creative with the storyline."

"Rebecca is Troy's sister, right?"

"Yeah."

"So… um…"

"You know, you and mom aren't exactly quiet people," Gia glanced up at Mrs. Goodall with a smirk, "I know what she wants you to talk to me about. For what it's worth, I think it was rape."

"You do?"

"I know the Morris men… if you can call them men," Gia said. "The worst part about them is their charm. That's what draws you in. That's what keeps people unaware of how nasty they are. That's what fools you."

"But I don't remember it happening."

"If I remember everything Cliff did to me, you'd probably have to lock me away in a mental institute," Gia said. She found the bottles she needed and started to pull them from the shelf. "Look, the way I see it, you were drunk, right?"

"I had too much to drink."

"C'mon, Mrs. Goodall," Gia smirked, "You were shit-faced."

"I had…"

"I know my mom was a druggie, Mrs. Goodall, and there's no way I'm believing you were the angel."

"I was drunk," Mrs. Goodall sighed. "I went to…"

"You went to a bar, by yourself, and upset. That already makes you vulnerable. The fact that you were drunk made you easy. Did he buy you a drink?"

"Yeah."

"That's how he slipped you the drugs. Cliff got me like that a couple of times. Mick and Alex did it to me at a party once. He knew you'd pass out, and he wanted to be the nice guy to escort you home. When you were too out of it to refuse or stop him, he had his way with you, left the scene of the crime, and nine months later my best friend popped out."

"You really think that's what happened?"

"You don't?"

"I don't know what to think because I don't remember?"

"Really? Mrs. Goodall, your bedroom is right under mine. I know you have nightmares. And last night, when we were all camped out together in my room, you were talking in your sleep."

"I was?"

"Yeah… it was dirty, just like some of the nightmares I've had," Gia nodded her head. "Weren't you wondering why, when you woke up, Emma was with mom and me? Mrs. Goodall, my mom's right. You need to accept you were hurt and find a way to get over it."

"I am over it."

"Tell that to your subconscious."

"How?"

"Troy jumped into my dreams and had me fight Cliff alone," Gia said and then looked to Mrs. Goodall, "I don't know if that'll work for you, though."

"Gia…"

"You'll find your own way," Gia smiled to Mrs. Goodall. "But I can already tell you, life only got better for me when I admitted to myself that I was in a bad place. You can't get help unless you think you need it. So, Mrs. Goodall, what do you think happened that night? A casual one night stand?"

"I… I guess I was taken advantage of."

"You guess?"

"I… I was taken advantage of. I… oh my…"

Gia took the basket from Mrs. Goodall's hand and then reached into her bag and pulled out her cell phone. She quickly called Serena.

"Hey, um, mind if I skip this lesson? I have my real powers with me anyways… Something came up. I'll make it there as soon as I can. Everything's fine, it's just something I have to… It's not Vrak, I promise… Have fun without me."

Gia hung up her phone and then started to walk with Mrs. Goodall to the check out. Mrs. Goodall still seemed to be processing what Gia had told her so Gia handled the order. When it was complete, they walked to the car.

"Mrs. Goodall, are you okay?"

"He took advantage of me, Gia. And all these years… I didn't… what do I do?"

"The bastard's dead, so nothing, I guess," Gia shrugged her shoulders. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I… with you?"

"Yeah. I'll listen."

"Does it get better?"

"You know," Gia smiled, "I asked Serena that same question a few months ago."

"Does it?"

"Yeah. Especially for you."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you're not going to let this kick you down. I won't let you," Gia answered and took Mrs. Goodall's hand again. "For starters, that night may have been horrible, but if it never happened, you wouldn't have Emma. What does she mean to you?"

"Everything."

"And she's the reason you're going to be okay too. I'll take you somewhere."

"Where?"

"Start the car."

Mrs. Goodall nodded and did as she was told, "Where to?"

"They buried Mr. Morris in the cemetery after he died. You can't really press charges on a dead guy, there's no satisfaction there, but you can still spit on his grave."

"Spit?"

"You don't have to literally spit. But let it all out," Gia said. "Tell him how you fell. Tell him what you think of him and what he did. Tell him why he can't hurt you. It helps. It helps a lot. When you know the person who wants you to feel weak can't hurt you, that's one of the best feelings."

"And you really think it's going to work for me?"

"If you focus on what's good in your life. You're finally settled down. You've learned how to be a good mom. You're a pretty kick ass aunt too…"

"I am?"

"Yeah, you are. You've got an amazing daughter. Your best friend isn't the number one best friend in the world, but she's certainly up there. And boy, your niece is just… perfect doesn't even begin to describe her."

Mrs. Goodall chuckled, "Yes, my humble niece sure is perfect."

"You're going to be okay, Mrs. Goodall."

"Claire."

"Huh?"

"My name is Claire. You can call me Claire."

"It's weird."

"Gia's weird."

"I meant it's going to be weird. But thanks…" Gia chuckled.

"Thanks…"

"What?"

"Thanks… who are you thanking, Gia? Come on, you're going to have to get used to saying it. Mrs. Goodall is my ex mother in-law."

"You know, you should really be thanking me."

"Thanks, Gia."

"You're welcome."

"You're welcome…"

"Are you parroting me?" Gia crossed her arms over her chest and smirked. "You know, I might not tell you which cemetery to go to and you'll have to find it all by yourself."

"Just say it, Gia."

"You're welcome, Claire," Gia said and then turned to the window and whispered, "So weird…"