This fic was inspired by discussion over at the Mighty Big TV (http://www.mightybigtv.com) 7th Heaven message forum regarding a) the fact that Annie's behaviour has crossed the line into abuse and negligence (of her kids, anyway; it was pointed out that she's been verbally and emotionally abusing Eric for quite some time now), and b) the disturbing fact that the 7th Heaven writers seem to be playing it for laughs and claiming that it's a result of Annie's menopause. Given the writers' track record, it was pretty clear to me that this would probably not be treated realistically, so I decided to do it myself. Just to repeat myself if you missed it in the summary: I wrote this before "Ay Carumba" aired, so consider it an alternate universe fic spinning off from "Prodigal."



Robbie looked carefully to his right and left, then backed into the Camdens' garage, holding the McDonald's bag in one hand and balancing the paper tray full of sodas in the other. Step - step - almost there - then bang! He collided with something. No, make that someone.

Oh crap oh crap oh cr - oh whew, he thought as he whipped around to find that the someone was not Annie Camden, but the Reverend. That was a step in the right direction, anyway - Robbie had the feeling that, though Eric hadn't said anything, he didn't like Annie's garage apartment decree any more than Robbie himself did.

Still . . . best to err on the side of caution. Robbie quickly swung the bag and tray behind his back, on the off chance that Eric had gone temporarily blind or something and hadn't seen them yet. In his haste, he didn't notice that Eric seemed to be hiding something behind his back, as well.

Robbie opened his mouth to speak, but Eric beat him to it.

"It's almost suppertime, Robbie. What are you doing out in the garage?"

"I'm not - nothing." Belatedly, Robbie realized that Eric's query had been as tense as his own answer, so he risked asking,

"What are you doing out here?"

A brief pause, then wryly - "The same nothing you're not doing, I think." He showed Robbie the Pete's Pizza bag he'd been hiding. Robbie relaxed and stopped pretending he was wide enough to conceal four large sodas and enough fast food for four people.

"I want to make sure they have enough food," Eric said defensively. "I'm not undermining Annie. I just don't want Matt and Simon to have to spend money they need to be saving. Or for anyone to go hungry. I don't know how long the allowance she gave them can last."

"I understand," Robbie said. "That's pretty much was I was thinking." Eric relaxed, looking relieved.

"But I don't think Annie would see it that way," he observed, not unreasonably, "so - don't tell her?"

"If you don't," Robbie promised. Then something occurred to him. "Why don't you let me take the food up? If she caught me, it'd be okay" - well, sort of - "but if she caught you, she'd freak out."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." Eric tucked the bag he held into Robbie's hand, alongside the McDonald's bag, then paused, holding on to it for a moment. "Can you carry all of it?"

"Uh - yeah. Yeah, I got it."

Eric carefully let go. "Okay. Thanks," he added, and crossed the garage to go inside. As Robbie turned to go, he heard,

"Oh, Robbie?"

Robbie half-turned back to face the Reverend. "Yeah?"

"Give me the receipt, and I'll pay you back. You need to save your money, too."

Robbie smiled. "Okay."

**********

"You think she'll feed us?" Lucy asked, somewhat doubtfully.

"She wouldn't let us have breakfast this morning," Simon pointed out.

"She can't seriously expect us to feed ourselves all week!" Lucy's voice began to rise in panic. "It's expensive! The allowance money she gave us won't last through Wednesday at this rate!"

"Hey!" Matt jabbed her hard with his elbow and nodded discreetly toward Ruthie, who was listening wide-eyed. Ruthie had been uncharacteristically quiet since she'd gotten home from school, and Matt was worried about how this was effecting her. Hell, he was worried about all of them, but at least he, Simon, and Lucy were old enough to more or less understand why Mom was acting so weird. Ruthie was still just a kid.

Lucy got the message and stopped talking; Matt jumped in quickly and said,

"Simon and I have jobs, remember? When the allowance money runs out, we can pay for food."

"That's right," Simon agreed, and Matt made a mental note to thank his normally miserly brother for rising to the occasion. "No one's gonna starve."

"Right," Lucy muttered. "I forgot. Stupid me."

Ruthie smiled. Matt allowed himself a sigh of relief and began,

"Now where do you guys want -" but was interrupted by Robbie calling,

"Little help here?"

"- never mind," Matt finished, getting to his feet and going to the stairs. "Looks like dinner's here." He relieved Robbie of the bags and tray, asking, "How much do we owe you?"

"Nothing. Your dad's got it covered."

Matt blinked in surprise. "Really? Mom's not having a cow?"

"She would. If she knew." Robbie gave him a meaningful look.

"Got it. She won't hear it from us."

"Not that she'd listen long enough for us to tell her," Lucy muttered.

"I gotta go before she figures out where I am," Robbie said. "Will you guys be all right?"

"Sure," Matt said. "We have blankets, candles, and food. We'll be fine. It's like a slumber party," he added for Ruthie's benefit.

Robbie nodded. "Okay. In that case, enjoy your dinner!", and he left amid a chorus of thank-yous.

Matt brought the food over to his siblings and set it down on the floor, then said quietly, "Lucy, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure."

Matt led his sister into the corner furthest from where Simon and Ruthie were sitting and got right to the point.

"Lucy, you need to watch what you say around Ruthie. She's little. You - we could scare her if we're not careful."

Lucy was nodding before he finished talking. "I know. I'm sorry. I'll be careful, I promise."

"Good. Now let's eat."

They went back to the improvised dining area, where Simon and Ruthie had already divvied up the McDonald's and set the Pete's bags aside.

"We figured we could save the calzones and have them for breakfast tomorrow," Simon explained through a mouthful of fries.

Matt and Lucy spoke simultaneously.

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

"You couldn't have waited for us?"

Simon swallowed. "Who are you guys, Mom?"

Lucy took a breath to speak. Matt gave her a sharp look; she countered with a "will you relax, please?" frown and said,

"You're right, it's no big deal. We can make our own rules this week." She gave a bright, perky smile to accentuate the fun of the whole thing, then took a bite of her cheeseburger, undoubtedly congratulating herself on a spin job well done.

**********

Eric couldn't remember the last time a meal had been so quiet.

Wait. Scratch that. Yes, he could - it had been last night, the first night of the enforced garage apartment exile. What little conversation there was was stilted, and stalled almost immediately. The missing Camdens seemed to be taking up all available space, and not leaving any left for talk.

Of course, it probably would have been a little different if he hadn't been the only one attempting to start any conversations. If Annie could come up with a single story about the kids in her classes today, or if Mary wasn't guarding any information about her time in Buffalo so jealously, or if Robbie - well, he didn't dare try Robbie, for fear of giving away their little secret.

Maybe the others welcomed the silence; maybe he was the only one who found it oppressive. Then again, maybe it was the ice in Annie's voice that was killing any desire Mary or Robbie might have had to talk.

Whatever it was, Eric didn't know if he could take five more nights of this. If Annie was trying to punish him along with the kids, she was doing a great job.

**********

Lucy was starting to see why Matt was so concerned about Ruthie.

Ruthie had picked at her food, playing more than eating; carefully wiping ketchup and mustard off her meat patty and putting the bread aside, then eating only half the patty before turning attention to her fries. Arranging the fries in a neat, precise circle, then eating only the centre. Then she'd given up altogether.

Lucy didn't get it. Ruthie's appetite had been fine this morning, or so Lucy assumed from the number of times she had declared how hungry she was before she and Simon had left for school.

Maybe it was no big deal. Ruthie's school served breakfast and lunch, so she'd eaten there; maybe something in the food had messed with her stomach. Lucy would have risked sneaking into the house for the thermometer, if it weren't for one thing: That theory just didn't account for why Ruthie was being so quiet. Even when she wasn't feeling well, she was capable of talking up a storm. And this odd silence was new since Lucy had last seen her, too; Ruthie'd had no problems running her mouth until this afternoon. Something must have happened at school . . .

"Lucy?"

Speaking of Ruthie. Lucy looked up with her best everything's-okay-so-what's-up? smile.

"I have to go to the bathroom. Will you go with me?"

Something else new. Lucy blinked and glanced involuntarily at Matt, wondering if he'd heard the unusual request. From the puzzled, concerned expression on his face, she was guessing that he had.

"Uh - sure. No problem."

Walking into the house gave Lucy the chills. Even though, according to Mom's terms, they were there legitimately, it felt almost as thought they were breaking and entering. Breaking and entering! In my own house! That is so wrong. It gave her a strong feeling of paranoia; she caught herself looking around uneasily to make sure no one saw them. Oh, man. This really sucks. Lucy felt Ruthie's hand slip into hers. She figured Ruthie probably felt the same way. She squeezed her sister's hand reassuringly, hoping they'd be able to get this over with and get out before anyone saw them.

No such luck. While Lucy was waiting outside the bathroom for Ruthie to finish up, Annie came up over the stairs, followed by Eric, at the same time as Robbie came out of his and Matt's bedroom. Jeez! Let's get Mary and the twins out here and have a party while we're at it!

Annie made a beeline right for her, eyes narrowed. Lucy gulped, braced herself, and blurted before her mother could speak,

"I brought Ruthie down to go to the bathroom. Which is allowed. You said," she finished weakly, wilting under her mother's glare.

"Ruthie is eleven. She does not need an escort. Go." Annie pointed toward the stairs.

Lucy couldn't believe her ears. "But - but it's dark!" she protested, seizing upon the first reasonable excuse she could think of for self-assured Ruthie needing her there, and glanced pleadingly at her father for support.

He sort of shrugged at her helplessly, and looked at the floor. Lucy's jaw dropped. Unreal.

"Get. Out." Annie jabbed her finger at the stairs for emphasis. Lucy summoned every ounce of courage she had and stood her ground.

"But Ruthie -"

"It's okay, Lucy." Robbie spoke up from where he'd been watching the drama unfold. "I'll walk Ruthie back when she's done."

Lucy winced, expecting Annie to turn on Robbie next. Fortunately, she seemed to think he was on her side; she smiled and thanked him. Whew.

"Okay, then," Lucy said and fled, pausing only to glare at her father as she passed him.

She was somewhat gratified to see that he at least had the grace to avoid her eyes and look properly ashamed of himself.

**********

It was nearly five minutes before the bathroom door opened a crack; Robbie could just barely see one brown eye scanning the hallway.

"They're gone," he said softly.

The crack widened, and Ruthie poked her head out through it. A quick look confirmed Robbie's statement and she emerged completely, saying,

"Let's go before Mom comes back."

They found Lucy waiting for them in the garage.

"Thanks, Robbie."

"No problem. Listen, Ruthie, I need to talk to Lucy for a sec. Can you go up by yourself?"

"And not eavesdrop at the top of the stairs?" Lucy added. Leaving the house seemed to have lifted Ruthie's spirits a little; at any rate, she was enough herself to look disappointed before she went up into the apartment. Robbie and Lucy exchanged a look, then, by silent mutual agreement, crossed to the far side of the garage. Just in case.

"Look," Robbie began, "there's something really wrong here, and I don't just mean your mom. It's Ruthie. I think she's afraid of her."

"Aren't we all?"

"Well - yes," Robbie conceded with a slight smile, "but Ruthie -"

"I know," Lucy interrupted. "She's been acting weird since she got home this afternoon. I think maybe something happened at school." Her eyes widened. "Do you think maybe she had a run-in with Mom? And Mom said something? No, she wouldn't do that? Would she do that?"

Robbie hesitated. "I don't think we should put anything past her right now."

Lucy sighed and hugged herself. "So now what? Don't answer that. You should go back inside before she comes looking for you. I'll talk to Matt. Maybe we can come up with something."

"Okay. I'll see if I can talk to your dad. Maybe he could -"

"Yeah, right. Don't bother. Wouldn't want him making waves. God forbid he should try to derail Mom's psycho fast train," she said bitterly.

"Don't be too hard on your dad. Just imagine being in his shoes."

"And try to figure out why he can't stick up for his own kids? No thanks. It would just make me madder. Go inside." Lucy turned around so fast her hair spun through the air and headed for the stairs.

**********

"Annie?" Eric tested the bedroom door to make sure it was securely latched, then said, "We need to talk."

"I don't want to hear it, Eric."

A possible response sprang into Eric's mind: That's too bad, Annie, because last time I checked, parenting was not unilateral. But if that's the way has to be in this family, then I think it's my turn, because you have taken this way too far.

He wanted to say it. Wanted to very badly, actually. But he couldn't, not if he wanted to improve the odds of Annie's listening to him. Instead, he began,

"Don't you think it's possible that you're being a little harsh?"

"By setting a punishment and sticking to it? No. I don't."

"Normally, I would agree with you." Walk softly, Eric. Walk . . . very . . . softly. "But I'm - concerned about the kinds of things that could go wrong. The garage apartment isn't quite safe yet. If they're using candles for light, one could get knocked over. Someone could fall down the stairs. Being consistent is certainly important, but our number one priority should always be our children's safety." There. That wasn't too bad. Diplomatic. Careful. Expressing his own concerns without ignoring Annie's. All in all -

"Well. I didn't realized you thought so poorly of me."

Eric stared. Annie glared at him for a moment before continuing.

"I would never deliberately put our children into a dangerous situation! I thought this through, Eric. Very carefully. Matt and Lucy are old enough to take responsibility for Simon and Ruthie and themselves. And they're all certainly old enough to know to be careful around candles!" Her eyes softened. "I love our children. I just want to do well by them. Life will be so much easier if they've learned to respect the boundaries that have been set."

Eric paused for a long moment. He still didn't like it, but Annie clearly was not budging. And - she was right, he supposed. As long as he kept getting food to them, and made sure they had some battery-powered lanterns, and it didn't get too cold at night . . . how much could really go wrong in five days?

"Just for a week," he said finally.

"That's what I told them, isn't it?" Annie gave him a warm smile and kissed his cheek. "I'm so glad you're being reasonable. Everything will be fine. You'll see."

"Fine," Eric echoed. "You're right."

But he couldn't quite forget the desperate look Lucy had given him in the hallway.

**********

Lucy knelt next to Ruthie's still form and watched her closely for a moment. When she was satisfied that Ruthie really was sleeping, not just faking it, she tucked the blanket more snugly around her sister's shoulders and stood.

"Ruthie's asleep, and we need to talk. Conference time," she announced in a loud whisper.

The three Camdens sat in a circle in the corner furthest away from Ruthie, with a candle in the middle. Lucy filled the other two in on what had happened in the house and her subsequent conversation with Robbie.

"Has Ruthie said anything to either of you?" she asked when she was finished. "About school, Mom, anything?"

Matt and Simon exchanged glances and shook their heads.

"She hasn't said much of anything at all," Simon answered. Lucy sighed.

"This is starting to get bad," she said softly. "You guys should have seen Mom. She was looking at me like I was some stranger trying to make off with the VCR. And Dad just stood there like a dork and didn't say anything."

"I can't really blame him," Simon remarked. "You know how she gets when he tries to disagree with her lately. I mean, how many times has he ended up on the couch because he said something she didn't like? If he'd said anything, she'd probably have sent him up here with us."

"That sucks." Lucy scowled fiercely at the candle. "So, what, he's afraid to be our dad? She sucks."

An uneasy silence followed this remark, with each Camden avoiding the others' eyes. Finally, Matt broke it, saying,

"About Ruthie. What can we do? There has to be something."

"Take her someplace else to go to the bathroom, for starters," Lucy muttered.

"Something practical," Matt amended.

"Like what?" Simon asked, frustrated. "Send her somewhere else to stay for the week? Get real, Matt. What can we possibly do?"

Lucy shrugged despondently. "I don't know. Make sure she knows we love her, I guess. And that she can talk to us if she needs to. Aside from that . . . ?"

"Not a whole lot," Simon concluded.

"Then I think we should go to bed," Matt said, "before we wake her up. If anybody thinks of something - anything - we'll talk more in the morning."

**********

It was a long, largely sleepless night for Lucy. Her racing mind and the floorboards, which seemed harder than they had the past two nights, kept her awake and tense. When she did manage to doze, she had nightmares - about her mother, about Ruthie - until finally she gave up even trying. She lay awake for what seemed like hours, listening to Ruthie's steady breathing, Simon's light snoring, and the tossing and turning that told her that Matt wasn't sleeping either. As soon as the sun began to rise, she started checking her watch every two minutes until it read seven o'clock and she could finally get up and wake Simon and Ruthie for school.

"Good," Simon mumbled, sitting up and flinging his blanket aside, where it would have landed on Matt if he hadn't resorted to getting up and pacing back and forth at six-seventeen. "I can't wait to get outta here."

Ruthie, on the other hand, opened her eyes only after Lucy resorted to shaking her. Lucy wasn't surprised when her first sleep-slurred words were, "I don't wanna go to school."

"Why not?" Lucy asked gently, brushing Ruthie's tousled hair out of her eyes. Ruthie stared up at the ceiling and shook her head, and Lucy thought that she had never seen someone look so forlorn. She scooped her little sister up in her arms and cradled her close. "C'mon," she coaxed, "you can tell me. You can whisper it in my ear if you want."

Ruthie was silent, burying her face against Lucy's shoulder and clinging to her tightly. Lucy looked over at Matt and Simon, who were watching, and jerked her head toward the staircase, hoping Ruthie might feel freer to talk if they were alone. The boys got the idea and left in a hurry, with Matt muttering something about the bathroom.

"Ruthie?" Lucy tried. "Did something happen at school yesterday? Did - did you see Mom?"

From the way Ruthie tensed, she could tell that she'd gotten it in one. Lucy closed her eyes. She'd wanted so much to be wrong.

"Tell me what happened," she said quietly, trying not to let her voice shake. "It's okay. You'll feel better. You can always talk to me, or Simon and Matt. About anything. You know that."

Ruthie turned her head so that her face wasn't pressed against Lucy's shoulder. Lucy waited. After a long moment, Ruthie began to talk.

"I went to go see Mom after school, 'cause I thought maybe it had been long enough so that she wasn't mad anymore. But she wouldn't talk to me. There was no one else in her classroom, and I closed the door, and there weren't any announcements on the speaker, so I know she could hear me, but she didn't answer. She didn't even look up. She just sat at her desk and did stuff until I had to go get the bus. I guess it's kind of a dumb thing to get upset about, but it was scary. It was like she decided not to be my mom any more. I heard her yelling at you last night, and it was like she'd decided not to be your mom, either. So I stayed in the bathroom until Robbie said Mom was gone." She looked up at Lucy. "I guess that is pretty dumb. I mean, she can't decide that. Can she?"

Lucy kissed her forehead. "Of course she can't. She'll always be our mom. But it's not dumb, either. Mom hasn't been very nice lately. It'll be okay, though. Once Mom's menopause is done, she'll go back to normal." Lucy smiled reassuringly at her sister and sent up a quick prayer asking God not to make her a liar.

"I'm never having menopause," Ruthie said firmly. "I don't ever wanna be mean to my kids like that." She frowned. "Does this mean I have to go to school?"

Lucy considered the question for a moment, and concluded that the benefits of school were far outweighed by the damage that could be incurred by another such encounter with their mother. "You can skip today," she said finally, "on three conditions. One: You have to promise to go for the rest of the week. People will start asking questions if you're gone all week. Two: You have to talk to your teachers tomorrow about making up what you miss today. Three, and this one's important: You have to come with me to lunch and a movie today." Maybe having fun today was what Ruthie needed to take her mind off things and make it through the rest of the week.

Ruthie lit up. "I promise."

"Then it's a deal."

Matt seemed to share Lucy's opinion; at least, he didn't object when she filled him in on their plans. Actually, he seemed kind of distracted. Lucy waved a hand in front of his face. "Hello? Earth to Matt Camden. Are you with us, Matt? What's going on?" She lowered her voice. "Did you think of something?"

Matt shook his head. "I don't know. But I thought of someone who might have some ideas, and won't tell Mom and Dad that I asked. Look, I'll get some money for you and Ruthie, okay? Don't spend any allowance money."

"Because we might need it," Lucy finished for him. "Got it."

**********

After Matt made his money run - and helped Lucy sneak Ruthie out so that no one who might still be home would see her leaving the apartment so late - he went for a walk. It was a long, meandering walk, giving him time to think about how to say what he had to say. When he arrived at his destination, it seemed far too soon, but he took a deep breath and knocked anyway. If he waited any longer, he might give up on this idea altogether.

Cheryl blinked at him in surprise as she opened the door.

"Hi," Matt began. "Look, I'm not here to ask you to talk to anyone or try to get back together or anything. I just need someone to talk to, and you were the best person I could think of. Can I come in?"

He must have looked as haggard and anxious as he felt, because Cheryl's, "Sure, Matt, what's wrong?" sounded genuinely alarmed. They sat down on Cheryl's couch, and Matt started to talk. He told her everything - about his mother's erratic behaviour, about the differences in her reactions to Lucy's return and Mary's return, about the chain of events leading up to the garage apartment banishment. Cheryl listened with a small frown, which deepened as he went on to talk about his father's non-reaction and the effect that the whole thing was having on Ruthie.

"We're at a loss. We just can't think of anything we can do to help her. Lucy's pretending to herself that a movie will fix things right up, and I didn't bother to say anything because I sure don't have any better ideas. I thought you might be able to think of something that we can't see because we're right in the middle of things." He sighed. "I'd like to get her out for the rest of the week, but I can't think of anyone who could take her except Uncle Hank and Aunt Julie, and they'd be bound to call Mom and Dad. Mom would flip."

Cheryl waited a moment to make sure that he was finished before she said quietly,

"What if you could find a place for her to stay? Say, if my schedule loosened up, and I could take her, and Simon too. What would that really solve? They'd just have to go back. And from what you're saying, it won't take long before something else sets your mom off all over again, and what then?"

"It won't last forever. Once Mom's done with menopause . . ."

"Matt. Stop." Cheryl placed her hands on his to get his attention, and to emphasize her words. "I could be wrong, because all I know is what you've told me, and I hope to God that I am, but you asked for my advice and I'm going to give it to you." She paused to organize her thoughts. "This doesn't sound like simple menopause to me. Menopause might effect a woman's emotions somewhat, but it doesn't turn her into an irrational control freak. If she's kicking her kids - especially Simon and Ruthie - out of the house without food or water, and ignoring Ruthie, and cutting your father down so severely he can't even object to what she's doing, then there is something really wrong with her. She needs help. And the kids all need to get out of the house before she can hurt them again." She squeezed his hands. "I don't think I'm saying anything that you haven't thought of and just don't want to admit." Cheryl stood and retrieved her phonebook, which she placed on the coffee table in front of Matt. Matt stared at it silently.

"There are a lot of quick fixes," she continued, "but only one way to help that will stick and do any good in the long run. You need to call the Department of Human Services." She straightened up.

"I'm going to go make some tea. I'll be in the kitchen for about ten minutes. You know where the phone is." She looked him in the eye. "Think about it."




Yes, that's it. I don't, at this point, plan to write any more. I simply wanted to provide an alternate route that the writers could have taken.