Summary: "when something seems wrong, it probably is."

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: AU story: Up until In Praise of Women (Season Three)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the 7th Heaven characters, so please don't sue an innocent writer

Author's Notes: "and it keeps going and going and going...." Well, so here it is, yet another chapter. A peek inside the world of the Camden's, brace yourself. For things are never what they seem. (as always, review!)

When Heaven Weeps: Part Nine

Silver-coated cooling fans hissed their sound throughout the Camden home, many family members sitting directly in front of the cooling devices, hoping for some relief of the California sunshine and humidity.

Eric Camden stood outside, drenched in sweat as he fiddled around with wires that connected to his air conditioning machine, completely clueless in his task.

"Work, baby, work."

He grunted as he reached back, grasping for a certain component when he heard,

"Ahem."

He quickly lifted his head up, only to smack head on with the overhang of the unit. He yelped as he grabbed his head, mustering a smile as he noticed Grace standing before him, a large glass of some reddish liquid in hand,

"Thought you could use a break."

Eric gratefully swiped the drink and began chugging down the cold drink, wiping away trail of perspiration, he thanked Grace,

"You guessed right, thanks."

Grace shrugged and tugged at the hem of her tank top,

"Thought you could use an electrician as well. I called a number, they're on their way."

She smiled sweetly as Eric set the now empty glass on the cooling unit, he shook his head,

"Annie usually does things like this, she's the all around handy woman."

Grace's smile dimmed bit but perked up as Eric headed back inside,

"I also wanted to ask you if it would be alright to interview the children now. I've done enough observing, although that job never ends."

She quickened her pace and followed Eric into the foyer, quickly shutting the door behind them,

"With your discernment, of course."

Eric remained silent as he washed his drinking glass, his hands lingering over the rim of the cup,

"You're sure this is good for them?"

Grace nodded quickly and plastered on her business expression,

"Definitely. They'll be able to express their feelings, emotions, and thoughts about various things."

Eric leaned against the counter, crossing his arms and frowning slightly as he inquired more,

"They can come to me with any of their problems, I'm their dad."

Grace gently patted Eric's hand, nodding sympathetically as she spoke,

"Of course you're their dad, that's why it could be hard. There are some things kids don't tell their parents. Some things parents don't know won't hurt them. Trust me."

Winking, she exited the room, her words haunting Eric.

"Trust me."

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"So Matt, I thought we could talk a little about your mom."

Matt glowered at the woman situated in front of him, he remained stone-faced and silent. Grace coughed a bit and tried to lighten the mood,

"I hear your grades are doing well."

Matt quickly stood up and glared into Grace's face,

"Don't think your little act is fooling everyone, cause it isn't fooling me. I suggest you leave before you do any more damage."

Grace watched silently as Matt quickly left the room, leaving the house and slamming the door behind him. Grace smirked a bit as she crossed her legs and made scribbling motions into her notebook.

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"Why do we have to do this again?"

Grace smiled a sad smile as she rubbed Lucy's shoulder, urging her to tell her woes,

"You must be feeling some pretty powerful things right now, a lot has happened in the past few months."

Lucy fingered the fabric of the pillow sitting atop her lap, her eyes stained red from endless crying,

"Things aren't what they seem anymore."

Grace nodded sorrowfully and leaned closer,

"Why is that?"

Lucy shrugged and brushed away a stray tear,

"Mom's sick."

Grace made a note and scooted back unto the couch,

"Do you miss your mom?"

Lucy stared at the woman counselor in front of her, her face showing disbelief,

"It's almost like she left entirely."

Lucy sighed and sagged back into pillows that cushioned her,

"Can we stop now? I'm tired."

Grace opened her mouth to protest, but decided against and nodded. Lucy quickly offered up a half smile and practically ran out of the room. Grace shook her head sadly as she gazed at the retreating figure.

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"I don't see much of mom anymore, she's really sick, and dad's trying to make her better. He made my Aunt Julie better just a couple of years ago. She drank a lot and it made her sick."

Grace listened as Simon spurted out his stories, everything running together as one.

"Do you miss your brother?"

Simon tossed his baseball up into the air, catching it with ease,

"Of course I miss Matt, he's my big brother."

Grace rose an eyebrow and corrected herself,

"No, Simon, I mean your little brother, Evan."

Simon's game of baseball ceased as he struggled not to cry,

"I wish I could've gotten to know him. I would've taught him everything he needed to know in life."

Grace tilted her head as she encouraged him to go on,

"It's almost like a tradition, Matt taught me the stuff of life, and now it was my turn to be the teacher. But I guess now I'm still the student."

Grace remained silent as she took in Simon's mature words, she was struck by the way he spoke. He had done a lot of growing up in the past several months. Much of his boyhood had vanished from existence.

"There's still a lot to learn in life, Simon. You're doing a wonderful job with Ruthie."

The younger boy shrugged and remained silent, Grace prodded on, hoping for more information.

"No little boy like you deserves to have this happen to him, and it's okay to cry about it."

Simon squinted his eyes until just a sliver a pupil showed through,

"Big boys don't cry."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Young Ruthie sat amid her dolls, different articles of clothing strewn about as she attempted vigorously to dress her own little babies. Grace sat cross-legged across from her and handled a doll's shoe as she played the game with Ruthie.

"How is Ruthie today?"

Ruthie snapped a pair of jeans on her Barbie and kept her eyes strained on her task,

"Ruthie is sad."

Grace left a pang of sadness for this pained girl,

"Why is Ruthie sad?"

Ruthie gently brushed her doll's hair, her nimble fingers untangling the unruly curls,

"Ruthie play all by herself."

Grace sat in wonder at this 6 years old referring to herself in third person,

"Is Ruthie lonely?"

Ruthie shrugged as she continued her duty of playing beautician,

"Not all the time. Simon plays with her sometimes."

Grace smiled slightly and took up a doll, studying it,

"What's this one's name?"

Ruthie sat her now styled doll on a bed made up of pieces of cloth and looked from the doll to Grace,

"Ruthie."

Grace's eyebrows rose and for a moment, Grace debated on whether or not to continue this session,

"Ruthie looks sad. Why?"

Ruthie smoothed out the wrinkles on "Ruthie's" clothes and closed her eyes for a brief second,

"Her mommy doesn't love her anymore."

Grace held the small doll in her hand, her eyes falling on this certain plaything's face. Bright blue teardrops had been drawn onto the doll's face. Those very tears were mirrored on little Ruthie's face, the wet substance trickling down her chubby cheek,

"Mommy doesn't love me anymore."

To Be Continued..............................................