"Knock, knock," Finn announced as she ducked into Isabella's hut.

"Finn?" Isabella questioned, looking up.

"The one and only," Finn grinned, sitting next to Isabella on the low, jungle wood bed.

"Why are you here?" Isabella asked, rubbing the tears out of her eyes.

"We all came with your dad. We were worried, Izzy," Finn answered, glancing at the roughed up teenager. "I hear you've been keeping an awfully big secret from us for a while."

Bella looked away. "From who?"

"Gabrielle. She came back bitching about the slander you were making up against her and how she couldn't even begin to think of how you came up with such morbid ideas." Finn's voice took on the mocking tones of the nanny's accent.

The little Roxton couldn't help but giggle lightly. "And you didn't believe her?"

"I believe your side of the story, always. You shoulda come to me or Vee though. A long time ago."

Isabella blushed slightly, but her discomfort was hidden as they heard raised voices from the main circle. Finn and Bella looked at each other.

"At least they're talking again," the older woman offered lamely.

"They aren't talking," Isabella sighed, "They're arguing."

"Oh, that's just the way they communicate, Izzy. Don't sweat it," Finn fudged, trying to cheer her up.

"No, Finn. It's different than before. They're really trying to hurt each other," Isabella responded, leaning back against the wall of the hut.

Finn said nothing, listening to the shouting die down.

"Where's Layton?" Bella asked after a few minutes.

"With his family," Finn answered.

Tears stung in her eyes and she closed them.

"I'll go now. Get some rest, Izzy."

"'Bye, Finn," Isabella yawned as her friend left.

"Isabella?" a meek voice called from the doorway as Lady Roxton was settling into the bed.

Unconsciously smiling, Bella responded, "Come in, Jane dear."

The nine-year-old Jane Malone was dressing in a simple blue smock that matched her eyes and her perfect corkscrew blonde curls were pulled back bye a matching ribbon. Her appearance reminded Isabella of the way she'd dressed at that age, before Jack had died.

"Hi," Jane said softly. Everything about the little girl was soft and gentle. The only one of them to be born and raised in New London, she was brought up into that society and didn't have Isabella's rebellious nature to avoid being sucked into the New Londoner view of girlhood. Bella just couldn't see Jane being in line to be a Protector of the Plateau.

"How are you?" Isabella asked, patting the bed next to her. Jane ran to her and threw her arms around her neck.

"I was worried about you."

"Oh, Jane, you've been spending too much time with Layton. He's rubbing off on you."

Jane grinned and remained cuddled in Isabella's arms until Roxton entered the room.

"Good evening, Miss Malone, could I talk to my Isabella alone, please?"

"Of course, Uncle John," Jane agreed, kissing Isabella's cheek and sliding off of the bed.

"Jane dear, could you do me a favor?" Bella asked.

"Yeah," Jane smiled, turning back to her surrogate big sister.

"Tuck Nathan-boy in for me?"

Jane grinned wider and nodded, leaving the hut.

Silence remained between the two Roxtons for a few minutes. Then John Roxton took quick steps to his daughter's side and wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his eyes damp with tears.

Isabella lost it and began to weep in his arms. "Dads."

~*~*~

Marguerite peeked into the small hut, wanting to see her little girl one last time before she disappeared for another five years. She saw her husband and daughter on the bed, Isabella asleep, her head resting on John's shoulder as he sat slumped against the wall, apparently sleeping as well. Walking as softly as she could, she crossed to them. She ran a gentle hand over Isabella's beautiful, bruised features. Of all the ways Marguerite imagined Isabella to be when she saw her again, this was never one.

"My little girl," Marguerite whispered, "I wish things would've been different."

She kissed her hand, then pressed it to Bella's forehead. "Good luck, little lady. Your daddy knows now. He'll make it better."

"You're going now, aren't you?" a deep voice rumbled softly.

She looked up to find Lord Roxton's eyes open. She looked away.

"Yes."

"She'll be very angry with you for it."

"And you?"

"I've gotten used to it," Roxton sighed, shifting under his daughter's weight.

"Oh, John," Marguerite said softly, unwanted tears clouding her gray eyes.

"Don't apologize. It doesn't hurt me any more. Just Isabella."

She said nothing and swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Look, Marguerite, I've loved you from the day I met you. Everything Bella said today is true. I've always loved you and I always will. If you can't commit or don't return my feelings, I can live with that. It hurts, but I've done it for five years. It is only Isabella that I am worried about."

"I do love you, John. Both of you."

"But you're still going," he said plainly.

Marguerite nodded, kissed both of their foreheads, and left.

Bella murmured a little in her sleep (which didn't surprise her father since she'd been doing it for as long as he could remember) then cried out in a pitiful, half-aware voice, "Mama!"

Kissing the top of her head, Roxton whispered, "Sorry, darling, it's just us again."

And Isabella seemed to be calmed by this statement, settling into her father's arms and becoming quiet again. From that night on, she called him her loving "Dads" once more.

Author's Note: I really need some feedback guys! You've been slacking off and I may need to bag this idea if I don't get some more reviews! Please review! I'm not above begging.