Summary: Looks inside the hurting minds of several family members, and the arrival of a new member enters the life of the family, can she help heal?
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None: AU
Disclaimer: I do now own any of the 7th Heaven characters, nor would I want them, so please don't sue and innocent writer who is just trying to make the world a better place
Author's Notes: Well, I guess this isn't going to be a one time thing. I had no idea this would blossom into something so complex and complicated. I'm enjoying writing it, and I hope you are enjoying reading it as well. Thank you all for the reviews, please keep doing so. Onto the story.
When Heaven Weeps: Part Seven
Annie's POV
I stare blindly out the dirt streaked window, the curtain material balled into my clenched fist, the rough feel rubbing harshly against my palm. The pane of glass was smudged so thoroughly, I had to squint to make out objects beyond my vision.
Guess my cleaning duties had been laid aside.
I drop the window piece from my hand and walk back to the bed, my side permanently deformed from the mold of my body. Running a hard carelessly over the sleeping baby perched on its side, her mouth slightly parted, the small whoosh of breath lifting the bit of black hair from its home resting on her forehead.
I finger her blankets, the soft angora sweater-like feel conformed to my hand, like heat, radiating throughout my fingertips, leaving them tingling. I draw the lightweight cotton sheet away from her tiny body, she had grown, put a few pounds.
I watch in awe as her chest heaves and falls with every breath she breathes. I have a remnant of recollection of a memory very much the same as I am standing here. Little Simon had been put down for a nap, kissed him on his forehead, and sat there, gazing as the wee one slept peacefully.
It never grew old, never tiring, never boring.
And here I was again. Drawn back from the hardened shell that had been built up around me. I reach out and grasp a pinkish hand, her long fingers curling around my own finger. Quickly, her face puckers up, her mouth opening and closing, mute sighs escaping her mouth.
Don't wake up little one, stay asleep. Keep dreaming.
Her loud cries pierce the silence of the bedroom, the crashing noise deafening to my ears. I back away from the harmless human that was woefully screaming her neediness.
I fall onto the bed, and cover my face and ears with a pillow. But not before I recognize Eric tearing through the room, casting a scowl towards myself and proceeding to comfort the child.
I cry my own set of neediness.
End Annie's POV: Start Simon's POV
Walking the painful quiet hallway, I peek into Ruthie's room, too tired to think about what she could up to now. The sight before me stops me. She's sitting on the floor, rocking her baby doll, tears streaming down her face, singing.
Hush little baby, don't say a word
Mommy's going to buy you a mockingbird
And if that mockingbird don't sing
Mommy's going to buy you a diamond ring
And if that diamond rings turns to gray
Mommy's going to love you anyway
I softly exit her room, closing the wooden door silently and lean against it, allowing it to hold me up. As my tears mirror Ruthie's, I whisper the lullaby aching in my mind, and close my eyes.
End Simon's POV: Start Lucy's POV
The world is an ugly place out there. People calling it hell on earth. One step into this house, and the saying is brought to life.
The only vivid memory of any of my siblings being born is Simon and Ruthie. But regarding Simon, I was sick and ended up in dad's arms most of the time. But with Ruthie, I remembered it clear. Everything before, and everything after.
Mom was never like this.
I'm not stupid, I know this happens to thousands of new mothers every year. It never occurred to me that my mom could be one of those statistics.
I hate walking around on eggshells on the time: we mustn't become too loud in the house, the music should be played softly, no slamming of the doors, no fighting. Even without the fighting, it feels like a war-zone.
And our side is losing.
I haven't seen mom in two weeks now. I've started up a routine so I don't have to come face to face with her, or even notice her in the hall. I get up early, go to school early, get home late. I've taken on more and more extra curricular activities. I made the cheerleading squad. Coach Harris says I may make Captain next year.
Before, I would've came bounding through the house, scouring the place for mom, anxious to get the news told to her, before anyone else did. She'd hug me and praise me for being such a hard-working girl, that she'd help whenever and with whatever she could. She'd lift my chin and look into my eyes, going on a spiel on how her little girl is growing up. The twinkle in her eye never dimming.
But this is now. Now, I avoid my own mother. Even though her body is still here, even her presence feels like it doesn't exist. But why should it? Our mother doesn't even exist.
End Lucy's POV: Start Eric's POV
How much longer till I turned away my whole family?
How much longer until I make an effort to stop their hurting?
How much longer until I fix the damage that has been to the core?
How much longer will I sit here and think about the "how much longer's"?
The doorbell rings.
I sit stone silent. I'd be a perfect statue.
Another ring. I stand up slowly, steadying myself as I shift holds with Elizabeth. I walk towards the front door, each step painstakingly hard to step. I reach the door.
Grab the knob
Turn the knob
Open the door
My mind processes all these thoughts and I finally register them, swinging open the door and bracing myself for the storm to gather overhead.
"Mr. Camden?"
I nod and gesture the petite woman inside, her professional dress still casual, she smoothes out the front of her shirt. Her slender hands grazing over her chest. I peel my eyes away from the forbidden sight.
"Yes, and Miss Lane, I presume?"
She flashes a smile and steps closer, peering at the bundle resting in my arms. She holds out her hands asks the question without speaking. I hand her over, almost unsure of the situation.
"Is Mrs. Camden home?"
I nod, pursing my lips together till the sigh fades,
"Yes, she's upstairs in her room. Would you like to meet her?"
Miss Lane shakes her head, her brunette tight curls bouncing wildly as she walks into the living, I raise an eyebrow but follow.
"Not yet. My job is to meet with you and your children, determine how they've been affected, get to know them, and then meet with your wife, the source of the problem."
I winced at her last words, I hated to hear Annie being referred to a "problem". It wasn't as if this was a leaky faucet or overflowing toilet that needed to be fixed. But I say nothing, Miss Lane is obviously a professional.
"Whatever you decide is necessary, Miss Lane."
She looks up from her previous engagement of cooing to the baby she held, she smiles and pats me gently on the knee.
"I'm going to be spending a lot of time with your family, Mr. Camden, and of course, yourself. Please, call me Grace."
I nod uncertainly and offer my own invitation,
"Alright, Grace, please call me, Eric."
She extends a free hand and shakes mine warmly, her fingers grasping around our conformed hands. I glance down at the handshake and then back up to Grace. I frown a bit and she lets go, leaving me wondering what just happened. I shake my thoughts back into reality and lean back onto the couch, watching the interaction between Grace and Elizabeth.
I smile as Elizabeth's face would light up as Grace would gingerly brush a stray curl over her face. Grace finally looks up after several moments of playtime. She tries not to blush and runs a hand through her unruly hair.
"I'm sorry, got a bit carried away there. Onto business."
She gently moves Elizabeth into her cradle by the loveseat and tucks a blanket around her small frame. Smiling, Grace reaches into her slim, leather briefcase, plucking through an assortment of papers and coming up with a small notepad and pen.
I push my curiousity out of the way for now. I need to focus on getting Annie better. And once Grace finished with the evaluation of our family, things would become clearer. Right?
Little did I know, the clouds were just beginning to accumlate above our heads, and hearts.
To be continued.........................................
