The sisterly love between Annabeth and Shannon was wonderful. It was a mystery that I could never solve and decided to leave alone. However, getting the baby to sleep through the night without Shannon nearby at all hours was a chore. I walked out of my room with the baby and seated myself in the rocking chair. With a shove of my aching feet, we were off.

I decided to feed Annabeth. It had been three hours since she last fed. With a quick unbuttoning of my blouse, my breast was in her mouth and she was content. She was so much like her sister this way. Everyone always told me that Shannon hated the bottle and cried at each feeding. Annabeth seemed to be the same way.

Humming to myself as we connected, I thought back to my own childhood. It was a distant, hazy mirror, this very old version of myself. There was so much I could say about my growing years. However, before the divorce and Clarence's arrival, there was some sort of family I had. Daddy and Mom did bring together the children of their previous marriages. My brothers just never liked the other and often ran away, joined the military or drank and smoked in secret places around the house.

There were also some short snippets of events I recalled. All twelve of my older brothers used to toss me and Dean around like we were bags of sand. Some started a food fight on Thanksgiving. Others were hiding me and Dean from Daddy because he was being an asshole drunk or if he made a scene at church. There were days when they told Mom off when she was being a terror. Sometimes, they watched us play when Mom and Daddy decided to leave.

I can't remember all of it. It was tough to, when all you had were small memories. Dean and I knew who loved us the most and it was our brothers. Despite their hatred of each other, they always thought the youngest was the most important of all. They even had nicknames for us. Dean was older and tougher, so he was called Warrior. I was Runt because I was the smallest and the youngest.

Then, something flashed through my mind. It was my mother. Something she used to sing as a lullaby rang through my head. She used to sing it in French and English and said her mother taught it to her. I tried going through it silently in my head before singing it for Annabeth.

Sway, sway back and forth,
Sweet dreams come to you,
Keep you company this night…

I couldn't remember the rest of the words, to be honest. I just hummed the melody mostly and repeated some verses. Annabeth was content and I don't think she cared. She suckled freely and was soon back asleep. I tried waking her up to finish feeding and burping, but it was difficult. Every time I moved her, those greyish eyes opened and looked at me with contempt. She was happy where she was.

And that was fine. Some time, I was going to wake her up and upset her little world. I didn't want to put her back down in the bassinet with gas bubbles in her small stomach.

I didn't hear the footsteps on the stairs. As I continued singing and humming the song, over and over again, a shadow kneeled before me. I wasn't surprised to see Hawkeye. I know that he missed my body in the bed with him. I just didn't expect him to come down at this time of night to be a pest.

After everyone left, he allowed life to go back to whatever normal was for us. He returned to work with gusto and only did a few chores around the house, one of them playing with Shannon when I was too tired. He worried about the girls and myself, more so than I've ever seen, and was always bothering me when Dad wasn't pulling him at the collar.

This time, I ignored him as I completed my feeding Annabeth. When her gummy mouth released, I buttoned back up and rolled her up to my toweled shoulder, continuing to sing the song. I knew the movement was going to eventually wake her up. I had a few minutes to figured out what Hawkeye wanted before I had to burp her.

"What are you doing?" Hawkeye asked me.

I was aghast at his question. "Hawkeye, it's after midnight. What are you doing up so late?" I would've added a comment about work, but declined. I worked it at another angle. "Shannon might wake up if we make too much noise."

"I could ask you the same thing," Hawkeye replied. Mischief danced in his eyes. "You're making a racket."

I was exasperated, simply because the statement was not true and Shannon was still sleeping. I wasn't in the mood for any games either, but I had to play along. I could not give in to the deep fatigue and smiled.

"Oh! Well, I was singing Annabeth a song," I admitted as cheerfully as I could.

"A song?" Hawkeye pretended to be baffled. "What king of song starts with "Sway, sway back and forth"? It sounds silly."

I felt redness flushing my cheeks. "My mother sang it to me."

"Really?"

"Yes. I don't remember all the words to the song, but it was about rocking young children to sleep and peaceful dreams come and keep them happy all night. It goes on and on. It was a song my grandmother sang too."

"Sing it to me."

"Well, what about Annabeth?"

"What about her? She needs sleep more than I do, but it'll help me more than her. If I sleep, I can help her better at night. She'll just not get her way, which is keeping us awake."

I couldn't help it. I laughed. Hawkeye was so selfish in that moment, it was silly. The child in his yearned to be mothered and thought of. This was his way of telling me to switch up the schedule and come back to bed. He could not take no for an answer this time.

When I managed to talk, I replied, "Hawkeye, Love, you're impossible sometimes. Annabeth is just a baby."

The giggles continued though. I couldn't help it. Hawkeye reached over and kissed me. While the electric shock reached to my toes, it still could not get up and chase him yet. I still had a baby in my arms and she was annoyed and I hurt more than I can express in words. Her irritated grey eyes met mine once more. The scrunched-up face appeared in every way like me that I continued to laugh.

"How are you doing?" he eventually asked me as he started nibbling on my ear.

I sighed. "I'm tired. I've never done this before."

"You're scared too."

"So are you."

The accusations were locked in time. We could not take them back. But we looked at each other in sadness. We were not angry. There was defensiveness, of course, but that came with our territory. We thought back to those uncertain days in Korea. Shannon had been taken from us and we could not speak of our pain to each other. I faced the responsibility of being a mother and watched Shannon grow up without me. Hawkeye could not bear the thought and had to banish it so he did not have to feel the ache of being an absent father.

"You know, you've been moving around a lot," Hawkeye began as he backed off and sat before the rocking chair. "Dad and I are worried."

"I have Mrs. Pettigrew," I told him. "It's not bad. And she showed me the buses."

"I don't want you ending up like last time."

"We're not on call twenty-four seven. Besides, I have plenty of support."

"Don't you miss them?"

It was odd that Hawkeye asked that question too. He didn't need to specify who. I knew he thought back to the reunion that ended so short of a time ago. One month was more than enough time to catch up, but it also felt another hole inside of us. The biggest part of our lives could not be separated like it had been since the year before. It was meant to keep gathering together, until the end of our lives.

"Of course, I do," I informed him, "but we are creating another family of our own. We are home, Hawkeye. We have two beautiful girls. We have Dad. I can ask for more days with our old unit, but I cannot change what we all went through and why. We have to move forward and continue to wait for opportunities to visit."

Hawkeye considered this for a moment. He never saw me think ahead like this before, not since I decided to come to Crabapple Cove with him. He took my hand, freeing it from our daughter, and squeezed it.

"Haven't you heard,
"It's a battle of words?"
The poster bearer cried.
"Listen, son," said the man, with the gun,
"There's room for you inside."

"How can you do this?" he asked me.

I had to think about this for a moment. How was it that I was able to keep going with life, numb or not, despite pain of wanting to die? How is it that every joy in my life was always tingled with hysteria? Or tragically taken away from me?

How can you move on and I cannot?

Because I was taught to be hold it all in. Mom had reached into the dark recesses of my mind and kept reiterating that all emotion had to be in check and stability had to reign. I was not success in this. I was a wild child. This is why she called me so many names and humiliated me for years. She mocked me, even in letters!

Because my love for him and our family was stronger than my vices. I had to take things in moderation. My drinking and crying had to be downsized to a manageable bite with two girls in my care. I had been abusing myself since I was a teen-ager. I had to slow down and stop before it consumed me.

Because my family needed me. Hawkeye and Dad took care of me when I couldn't. I could not leave him hanging like that ever again. I had to move on and pick up the torch that was left to me by Hawkeye's mother. I lovingly joined a family with a void. I had every intention of filling it again – with love, compassion, strength and faith.

Dad was right. I was strong. I just to realize it myself and never give up.

I returned the kiss. "You'll see. I always keep my promises."

Hawkeye accepted this. In our way, it was the silent body language and the eyes that spoke. His always questioned my sanity and if I was truly happy. Mine always reassured him that all was fine and that I could not be better.

"Let me take Annabeth for a few minutes," Hawkeye said. He brokered no arguments and handled Annabeth with ease. "You get some rest."

I tried protesting. It fell on deaf ears. Hawkeye had the baby wrapped in his hands before long and, without a towel over his shoulder, bounced up and down the living room. He tried lulling her back to sleep the hard way, thinking that she'd appreciate it like Shannon had. All of my hard work was for nothing.

"Hawkeye, she needs to be burped first," I warned. "You can't race her."

He didn't listen. Of course, Hawkeye Pierce knew best about mother and babies. He was anxious to see me back in our bed instead of making life easier downstairs. If he had the capability to make the magical happen, he will. He only had to put some effort into it.

However, his efforts seemed a little off. As he reached the front door, I heard a gurgle from Annabeth. Seconds later, she threw up all of the milk she drank up. It slid down the back of Hawkeye's shirt and onto the floor.

~00~

I did manage to get a few hours of sleep for myself after Hawkeye cleaned up after himself. After the sun rose, Shannon woke up me. I was stiff from slumbering in the rocking chair and tried standing up. I dropped back into the seat quickly. I wasn't ready.

Dad walked downstairs, carrying a couple of mugs of coffee. He handed one to me and frantically glanced around. Shrugging his shoulders upon completion, he drank from the cup himself.

"Where's Hawkeye?" he asked me. "Where's Annabeth?"

"I don't know," I admitted. The coffee perked me up a little. "He came down some hours ago. He took the baby. Afterward, I don't remember."

Dad decided that a walk was in order. After managing to keep Shannon in the dining room for breakfast, he disappeared into the kitchen. I heard the back-door crack open. Then, there were two voices and a child's weak cry. Dad had found Hawkeye on the porch swing with the baby.

I heard Dad laughing. He said something to Hawkeye about coming back inside. He also cajoled him into handing Annabeth and some dirty clothes over. When Hawkeye obliged, Dad instructed him to go see me. Then, the door opened and closed again. Dad returned to the living room and handed Annabeth back to me and dropped what appeared to be Hawkeye's Army dress uniform on the floor next to me. He snickered on his return to the kitchen.

I understood what he meant when Hawkeye came before me. For two seconds, I thought we were back in Korea the way he was dressed. On top of his black and white head was his kangaroo suit hat, rank and all on it (and quite wet from drool). Otherwise, he was completely naked except for his underwear. Even that was stained with milk.

"Annabeth threw up all over me," he began pathetically. "I couldn't find anything else downstairs and –"

"Hawkeye, Jesus, put some clothes on!" I exclaimed, not caring that Shannon was in earshot. I found a pillow and threw it at him. "Before our daughters see more of you, get upstairs!"

He obeyed me. I don't think he came to breakfast either. I didn't care. It was a ridiculous notion that he could take care of a baby on his own. It was worse that he used his own clothes and his dress uniform to clean up the mess. I appreciated his efforts to keep quiet. But what he did was too much I couldn't believe it!

It was close to a Marx Brothers parody. Groucho had smoked his way into trouble and thought that his grand plan was going to work. Then, the most ludicrous things began to happen. To conduct good deeds to counter it, he'd have to utilize anything he could get his hands on to solve the problem. Unfortunately, as with many comedies, this one came to close on a level of silliness.

Dad returned after Shannon was done with breakfast. My eldest daughter was at my feet, coloring some pictures. Annabeth was sleeping on my chest. My coffee was finished and I was sore tempted to put the baby in the bassinet and sleep on the couch. I was alert for some things. I was not strong enough to tackle the household chores for the moment.

"Hawkeye is going to be late for work," Dad mentioned. "He's supposed to be in the office in half an hour."

"I'm coming, I'm coming." I heard the rowdy footsteps stomp down. Hawkeye was finalizing his dressing, smoothing down a collar. "We won't be late."

Dad and Hawkeye bid me goodbye. When that husband of mine bent over to kiss me again, he made sure to stay away from Annabeth's mouth. I could understand why. After a night like that, I could not blame him. Being thrown up on was never pleasant, especially when it's your own daughter.

"Will you listen to me from now on?" I asked him.

"No," he replied honestly, but with a twinkle in his eyes. He was teasing me now. "I am always right. I don't need a nagging wife who knows she's right to help me."

~00~

July 30, 1954
Crabapple Cove, Maine

I was down at the beach with Mrs. Pettigrew earlier with the girls. Shannon was splashing and making sand castles at the edge of the water. Annabeth laid contently in my arms. I was sitting near Shannon and allowing the waves to wash over us. Mrs. Pettigrew sat in a chair behind me, far away from the water.

"I heard some racket this morning," Mrs. Pettigrew mentioned. "What happened?"

I tried hard not to laugh. It came out as a snicker. All I could see was a naked Hawkeye in the living room and trying to explain what happened. The more I tried finding the words to explain it to the neighbor, the worse I got. I just started laughing.

Mrs. Pettigrew was startled and didn't know what to say. She tried stuttering some words out, but couldn't. Every time she attempted to apprehend me, she grew angrier and more frustrated that she couldn't get a word out. This made me laugh harder. It was enough to shake Annabeth and cause her to cry.

Shannon didn't know what to do. She looked from me to Mrs. Pettigrew, to see what was going on and possibly get told what to do. Eventually, when we both did nothing, she shrugged her shoulders and went back to her work. However, when Mrs. Pettigrew snapped some comment about being rude, she jumped and hid behind me. Her bucket and shovel laid abandoned in the sand, away from the waves.

Eventually, I stopped laughing and answered her question. "Some days, I wish Hawkeye didn't try to help me. It comes across strange."

"What did he do?" Mrs. Pettigrew managed to utter softer.

"Well, I was feeding Annabeth and he came downstairs."

"He doesn't like you there, does he?"

"No, he doesn't. He wants me back in our bed."

Mrs. Pettigrew patted my hand. "All men do. They are not patient. They cannot understand the changes we endure."

Shannon saw that there was no threat anymore. Once she saw us talking, she was fine. She returned to her sand castles. However, as she made the lumpy creations, she kept checking on us, like we were going to get into another argument. Then, she paid attention to the story of how Hawkeye took her Abee and made a mess all over the place and ended up naked on the back porch.

By the end, Mrs. Pettigrew laughed herself. "Men! Oh, they never change!"

"Should I worry?" I inquired. She seemed a wise sort on marriage. "Should I let him help?"

"Help realize how ridiculous he is? Of course!" Mrs. Pettigrew snorted. "Let him believe he is a wonder. Then, he'll see how he can't handle women's work. Hawkeye Pierce, mental patient! How crazy does he think he is?"

"More than you'll know," I revealed. But whatever merriment that came between us suddenly stopped. I noticed some strange clouds on the horizon.

Mrs. Pettigrew noted them too. "There is despair coming."

"What are you talking about?" I asked her. I was nervous. "What do you mean?"

"Get the girls inside," she ordered sternly. "A storm is coming."

It was a chore to get inside. We had to hurry though. The clouds were growing darker and rain started some miles south and was moving fast. Mrs. Pettigrew gathered our items and guided me and the children to the house. By the time we reached the back porch, it started to downpour.

"I'll stay here for now," she told me. "I am sure Larry will come by later with an umbrella."

I settled everyone inside and decided to check the mail. Mrs. Pettigrew sat in the kitchen, wringing out her dress and shaking away the sand. Shannon was already playing with her dollhouse, despite the dirt she tracked into the house. I resolved to get her into the bathtub once I managed to get the papers inside. We did not need any wet bills and letters.

With Annabeth in one hand, I went out the postbox and quickly grabbed the mail. It was difficult, as one was a package, but I managed to get back inside, very wet. I put the baby down on the couch and began sorting the post. As I separated what was mine, Hawkeye's and Dad's, I yelled for Shannon to go upstairs for a wash. As she reluctantly listened, I picked up Annabeth and handed her to Mrs. Pettigrew. I was interested in the package and Shannon.

The package was from Holland. One of my brothers sent a heavy box of old family heirlooms, I assumed. I opened it and reached for the letter inside. It was brief. All five had signed it.

Apparently, they had been sorting some of the items they grabbed from the house. They found some pictures and didn't know what to do with them and didn't bother going through them. They were Clarence's and they thought I'd like to check them out.

I was wary. My hands shook as I dug further into the box and began scanning the glossy prints. What I found in there almost made me scream.

Without knowing it, my brothers had sent me pictures of all of Clarence's conquests, myself included. They included shots of many women in several poses. Some of them were naked and whipped and chained. Others were blurry pictures, informal positions that required him to stalk them like prey. Many more bordered on the perverse.

I was sick. I dropped them back into the box and closed it. Rushing in my room to the left, I shoved the box in there and slammed the door shut. When I was alone, I planned to revisit the pain. I didn't want to think about it, with so much to worry about.

It was time to find closure, once and for all. It was not just for me. It was for all of those women, for it was us and them once more. I was reliving the horror of the past. Clarence will never leave me alone.


As always, a few notes. The song lyrics are from the Pink Floyd song "Us and Them". There is also reference to Hawkeye's state of undress. There are too many episodes to quote on these instances. ;) The same goes for the Groucho Marx reference. The "Sway, Back and Forth" scene was also taken from another short story I created years ago.

Now, I want to say something to the reviewer, momoflanda: I wish I could message you and express my appreciation for all of your kind words. I can reassure you, this is not the end of the series and will follow for decades to come. Thank you! :)