Towards evening, things got a little complicated. Without warning, Dolly showed up, with the intention of bringing Dad to Vermont. There was some business with the neighbors that she claimed needed doing and that he was the only person who could handle it. Of course, it was urgent that he pack his bags and leave with her as soon as humanly possible.

We were all sitting in the living room when she came. The children were in bed. The men were relaxing with a magazine, newspaper or medical journal. I was listening to music from the radio and sewing back together some of Shannon's torn clothes.

"Since when does the neighbor get to dictate when I can and cannot go?" Dad asked Dolly as he peered over his medical journal. "What does he want now?"

"Since you own the cabin and let the family use it," she replied. "He won't talk to me about it."

Hawkeye was skeptical. "Any way I can go instead of Dad?"

"Not unless your name is on the deed," Dolly told him.

"Damn, and here I was, wishing I was part landowner and part explorer," Hawkeye began, almost like a homily. "It was akin to the days of old, when merry little England –"

"I think we get the point," Charles interjected. He was reading The Boston Globe and trying to ignore Hawkeye the best he could. "You are not amongst the finest."

"All right, all right. I'm coming." Dad got up from the couch. "When do you want to leave, Dolly?"

"In the morning," she told him. "I don't want to drive tonight."

They talked of their plans. Dolly agreed to be here before dawn to pick him up and that they'd talk about it more on the drive there. Then, she left. Dad sighed. He decided to call it a night. Almost dramatically, he said good night to everyone and headed upstairs.

Nobody moved except for me. I finished Shannon's school dresses. I got up and went to the basement. I had every intention of putting them through the washer and dryer before she got them back. I also mumbled some curses about how rough she was with her clothes. My daughter was not a tradition girl, by any stretch of the imagination. I could not blame her.

BJ followed me and leaned against the wall as I loaded the washer. "Are you ready to talk?"

"Can't a woman have some peace?" I closed the lid and twisted the nob. The release of water told me I was all set. "I have things to do before bed."

"You go to bed late," BJ observed.

"So?" I asked him. I faced him with arms crossed. "That's the way it's supposed to be. Hawkeye goes to work. I stay at home. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No," BJ conceded, "but I have a problem with you overworking. When you are going to understand? You can't save the world."

"Understand what? BJ, I am not trying to save the world. I want to show people that I am not an invalid."

"You should be one. Medical science decrees it."

"I refuse to be defined by what a book says, BJ. You can't study me like a specimen either. I am not your experiment under a microscope."

BJ realized that he was arguing with a brick wall and stopped himself. "I'm sorry." He sounded defeated. "I am so worried."

"Don't be," I reassured him. "I have everything under control. Do you really think I don't tell anyone anything?"

"Obviously, you're not telling Hawkeye anything. His Dad knows everything, like what's in the boxes on the shelf."

"They are old papers."

"You said that your brother sent pictures. Where are they?"

"Put away," I told him, sharper than I intended. "Why? Do you want to see them?"

"No." BJ sensed the defensiveness in me again. He put his hands up in defeat. "I give in. Mercy! Friends still?"

"Always." I relaxed and hugged him. "It'll be ok, BJ. I promise you. We're working pretty damned hard here to get Hawkeye out of there."

That was when I heard little footsteps two floors up. Duty now called. I detached myself from BJ and sent him a dismissive statement before seeing which child was out of bed. It was Shannon. She was white-faced and coming out of the bathroom. She wiped her mouth.

"Mommy, Annabeth is sick," she told me.

I rushed up to her and felt her forehead. It was warm. "So are you. Go back to bed."

All four of them were sick. The two rooms retched of vomit and diarrhea. I went to work immediately. Even with everyone asking if they could help, I pushed it all to one side and told them to go to bed. I cleaned each child in the bathtub. Each bed was stripped and fresh sheets were placed on them. Everything I could lay my hands on was disinfected and put away. Towels and bowls were placed around the beds, in case they had accidents again. I even washed extra diapers for Danielle and Patrick.

Long after everyone went to bed with hesitation, I was still awake and working between the children like a Post-Op ward. Before dawn, Dad was up. He heard about the trouble and checked on the children with me and didn't see any concerns. Like me, he thought it was a twenty-four-hour bug and not to worry. He left with Dolly an hour later.

Hawkeye woke up after Dad departed. I was with the twins at that point. Patrick and Danielle had a harder night than Annabeth and Shannon. Being much younger, I had to watch them more closely. They both woke up several times all night, crying for relief as their diapers filled and their crib became covered in vomit. It almost made my heart break each time. By the time Hawkeye showed up, they were finally out cold.

"Did you get any sleep?" he asked me quietly. He sat down next to me on the floor.

"No," I confirmed. I was cheery about it.

Hawkeye was kind. "Do you need me to make some coffee?"

"Oh, I can get that," I reassured him. I reached across the wooden bars and brushed away a dark lock from Patrick's head. "Give me a few minutes." I got up.

He darted and blocked the doorway. "I can do it. You sit here. I'll take your place in a few minutes. You get some sleep."

"Hawkeye, I've got things to do," I told him. "I need to check on Shannon and Annabeth. Shannon needs to be called out of school. Breakfast needs to be made."

"I could take care of it."

"I have laundry that needs to be washed and dried. And what about the dishes?"

"I said that I could take care of it. After I come back, go to sleep."

It sounded like an order. Hawkeye hardly issued any, even in the Army. It stopped me. It wasn't sharp or exasperated. It was stern and strong. It was unlike Hawkeye in every way.

I studied him closer. "What's gotten into you?" I asked him. "We had a deal. I have the house. You have work."

"Well, maybe things need to be changed here," he told me. He shrugged his shoulders. "Come on. I've got this."

I was hesitant. Hawkeye was not angry or annoyed. He was defensive either. I decided to go along with the game. I let him make the coffee and sat back down on the floor. It took some time before he brought me up a cup. He also made two plates of breakfast, toast for both of us.

"I noticed you don't really eat breakfast," he observed. He bit into his food.

I smiled and took the plate. I kissed him. "Thank you."

It was there we ate in a cordial silence and watched the twins. Every once in a while, Hawkeye or I will reach over and ruffle their hair. With no changes except a peaceful slumber, Hawkeye sent me to bed. I finished my food and handed him the plate. I changed and went to bed. I didn't think an argument was worth my aggravation. Sleep was my best friend still.

I woke up early in the afternoon, maybe a few hours later. Quickly, I was out of bed to checking on the children. All of them were up in their rooms and quite well. Annabeth and Shannon were talking in their bedroom, each in their own bed. Patrick and Danielle were playing with each other in their crib.

Relieved, I took a shower and went downstairs. I checked to see if Hawkeye and the others were still home and found out that they were not. The Packard was not in the driveway either. I checked to see if there was a note and found one on the kitchen table. Hawkeye wrote that they decided to pick up a few things in Portland and that they'll return in the evening.

This gave me the chance to clean the house. Hawkeye had left the breakfast and lunch dishes and there was sand all over the place. It took some time to clean this up before the children called out to me. I raced up the stairs and checked on them again. The twins were still runny and I cleaned them up. Annabeth and Shannon were better and hungry and begging for attention.

"Can we get out of bed?" Annabeth asked.

"No," I replied immediately. "You can tomorrow."

"But Mommy, I left my book in the basement. Can I go get it?"

"I said you couldn't get up. What does no mean?"

Annabeth was upset. I ignored it. I didn't have time to address her pouting and felt myself run into full nurse mode. Their recovery was the priority. First, I had them get changed and switched out the sheets again. Then, the girls went back to bed. I bundled the cloth and ran to the basement with it. I threw all of the clean items in a basket and the wet ones in the dryer. I vowed to sort it out later.

When I returned to the stairs, there was Annabeth. She had snuck out of bed and grabbed her book from wherever it was. She froze on the stairs when she saw me, like a deer against the light of a hunter. Mumbling her apologies, she scrambled up to the living room with her coveted item.

"You have to the count of ten to get back to bed," I told her sternly. I swung the basket against my hip. "One, two, three…"

I continued to count, pissed off beyond belief that my own daughter would disobey me as easily as a wounded soldier. It caused Annabeth to scurry faster without looking to where she was going. She was not nimble enough though. She missed a step going up and started to fall. She lost her book.

Without thinking, I acted. I dropped the clothes and rushed to her. I grabbed her before she stumbled further. But I was not as graceful either. I missed the next step and twisted my foot. I fell the last few stairs and landed on my left side.

Shannon was in the doorway, above me. "Mommy, are you ok? Do you need help?"

"Get back to bed!" I bellowed at them. "Now!"

The tone of my voice was more demonic than when I initially yelled at Annabeth. Scared, the two disappeared together. I heard them go upstairs. The book laid abandoned on its spot on the floor.

Groaning, I assessed the damage. I rolled over and faced the ceiling. It wasn't too difficult, so that was a good thing. I didn't hurt my back. The left side was sore and surely will have bruises. The wrist stung a little because I landed on it. The ankle was the worst. I had used that foot to spring forward and it had been the one that missed the last rung. When I tried getting up, I realized that it was just sprained.

It was an easy fix, I told myself. I grabbed the basket and hobbled up to the living room. Luckily, Shannon and Annabeth listened this time and were in their room, quietly talking to each other. I would have continued with the chores, but my ankle needed to be taken care of. Quickly, I went to the exam rooms and grabbed an elastic bandage. I had it wrapped in seconds.

I shouldn't have been on my feet immediately, but I needed to. I limped out to grab the remaining laundry. I also hid the bandaged foot with my indoor flat shoes. It hurt a little to squeeze them in, but it had to be done. I could rest later.

I spent the rest of the day alternating between putting my foot up and tending to the children and the house. By the time Hawkeye and the others arrived home in the evening, I was smiling at the door and had dinner ready. I was lucky that they didn't care what I made. All three of them were tired from driving to and from Portland and sat in the dining room without complaint.

"How was your day?" I asked when we all sat together. The children remained in their rooms.

"Busy," Hawkeye answered. He began eating.

"Is there anything wrong?"

"No. There were a couple of things we had to look into. I wanted to pick up something."

Charles snorted. "Well, we walked around."

BJ said nothing. He elbowed Charles though. It was mysterious. Like me, they were hiding something. Somehow, I didn't want to know what it was. I continued eating until I heard one of the children call out to me. I excused myself and ran.

Hawkeye followed me. After I tended to the one in question, he met me in the hallway. "Did you get some sleep?" he asked me.

"Of course, I did," I told him. I kissed him. "Thank you."

"Anything else happen today? Are you ok?" He was concerned.

I didn't want to tell him about the incident with Annabeth yet. I wanted the children past their illness before I sat down to talk with him. I also believed that he had something else to tell me. His note claimed that he was picking up some things in Portland. He came home empty-handed except for being full of apprehension and containing secrets he shared with BJ and Charles.

"Today was normal," I informed him.

Then, he held me. He held me. It was like all of the resentment and animosity melted away and that the past few years were just a reoccurring nightmare. We were just two parents who were checking in on our children. We were not a pair of war veterans who were trying to find our footing in the civilian world.

"I love you," Hawkeye said. "I can't live without you."

I almost teared up. "I love you too," I replied as I pressed my face into his shirt. "Nothing is going to change that."

~00~

And now, feel the
Heat around me.
See the blaze that burns me.
All of this is tearing me apart.

After dinner, everyone settled down and eventually disappeared to the basement. I limped along and managed to keep everything under control. The children were cleaned again and went to sleep. All was quiet in the Pierce household and that was pretty unusual. I enjoyed it.

As I scrubbed the last of the dinner crumbs in the kitchen, I thought. Not only was I happy about Hawkeye calming down and holding me so dearly, I was glad that he and the others enjoyed the basement. It was a relief to remodel somewhat. Having a living room and separate entertainment area was wonderful to keep people out of the way.

When I was done, I noticed that all was a little too quiet. Charles, BJ and Hawkeye were still talking downstairs, but their tones had become too low and worried for my taste. I was anxious that something had happened. I tried to reason with myself. It might have been them talking of old times in Korea. One of them could be morose and needed the others to help him. We were always so remorseful and silent for those we lost and the innocence that had turned to guilt.

I decided that it might be time for some cheering up. The coffee was still warm on the stove and the alcohol was plentiful. I thought that some drinks were in order. Like a bartender with renewed purpose, I prepared each mug with great care, aware that there were emotions that will be mixed with the desired numbness. In minutes, four cups were soon ready for consumption and put on a tray.

I almost froze at the top of the stairs when I heard Hawkeye. "I wish she told me."

"Hawk, there is only so much someone can say about this," BJ replied. His voice shook. "If – If it cannot be said, then why show you?"

Charles didn't say anything. I heard him wheezing though. When I stepped softly downward and drew closer to the doctors, I recognized that he was sobbing. Charles never cried. He was angry and obnoxious, but never one for tears. He always said they were useless.

"I have coffee for everyone," I called out. "It's bound to put smiles on your face."

Nobody answered. The muttering continued. Charles eventually let out a loud sob and it was so painful that it hurt me. My heart raced. Something was terribly wrong. This is more than a discussion about Korea.

What had happened?

I reached the bottom and craned my head around the corner. There, Hawkeye, BJ and Charles were, crowded around the remaining three boxes that Jeremy had sent me. Hawkeye was eying my pictures, tears in his eyes. BJ was white and it appeared that he had thrown up quite a number of times. And then, there was Charles, collapsed in the corner, unwilling to pick himself up.

They had seen the pictures. They now knew my shame and those of the many women my stepfather had violated. They were sick from seeing them.

Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

I dropped the tray of cups. The mugs crashed to the floor, shattering them into a million shards of porcelain. I couldn't tell if I made a noise. All I could remember was the spell was broken. The trio had seen me.

Hawkeye tried approaching me slowly, like I was a caged animal set free. "Jeanie, please. We didn't mean to."

I didn't stick around and I didn't want to hear apologies or platitudes about the abuse. I ran upstairs, as fast as my ankle would allow, and hid myself in my room. Hawkeye and BJ were behind me, but could not catch me. By the time I locked the door behind me, my back was against it. As I tried catching my breath, I felt the fists banging.

I burn with you.
We'll see it through.
I burn in you.
It will never be the
Same as it was before.

"Jeanie, please open the door," Hawkeye begged. "Can I come in? Please? Jeanie, please! Open the door."

BJ repeated the same pleas. "Jeanie, I understand how upset you are. Can we talk about it? Please? Can we come in?"

I didn't answer. There was none to give. I couldn't face them. The façade was over. They all knew of the secrets I kept for over two years.

Betrayed by my actions, I slid down the door. Tears came down my face. I listened to Hawkeye and BJ plead with me. Eventually, Charles joined them. His voice was softer, but he also tried to coax me out with promises. When an hour passed, all three gave up. I heard some footsteps fade away. One pair did not make the walk. With a sigh, Hawkeye slipped down against the wood of the door. Our backs were separated by a simple barrier, much as our marriage had in the past few years.

There was no way I was coming out that night to talk to him or the others. I will check on the children in the morning. I knew they were all right. I could not face them in this state of mind anyway. For I knew nothing was going to be the same again.

It's true, we'll
See it through.
I burn in you,
But we'll never be the
Same as we were before.

Following lyrics are again from the Lacuna Coil song "I Burn in You". And to momoflanda: you'll see what happens next! Thank you for your thoughts.