Author's note: Sorry this took forever to add, but it's been a busy couple of weeks.

Trivia: This chapter references Scream, Smallville, and Desperate Housewives. I just though I'd add that.

"She was never attacked; she made the whole thing up." Samantha had been flipping through channels for the past few hours and finally settled on Scream. She watched as Neve Campbell hid in a bathroom stall while two girls talked about her. "Where do you get this shit from?" A brunette with an annoying voice asked the cheerleader. "Ricki Lake." She said and walked out of the bathroom. It was nearly one in the morning and Sam hadn't even attempted to go to sleep. In fact, she hadn't slept since she got out of the hospital a few days before. She had watched more infomercials and old horror movies in the past few days than she had in the past few years.

"Sam?" Martin was only half awake when he entered the dark living room. "Remember when you used to sleep?" He sat down on the couch next to her.

"Remember when I used to work?" Sam replied without looking at him.

"You're only taking a little while off work, just until you can walk by yourself again. You'll be back before you know it."

"I work desk duty anyway," Sam muted the movie as ghost face was killing the Fonze.

"Do you want to go back to the field?" Martin adjusted the pillows on the couch in attempt to get comfortable.

"I guess, eventually maybe." She gave up dividing her attention between the movie and Martin so she turned off the television.

"So, how are you?" Martin asked the question that seemed particularly cheesy to him, but he really needed to know the answer.

"They say I have post-dramatic stress."

"That's not what I asked." Martin noticed that Sam would hardly look at him.

"I know," She sat up so she could face Martin but slid down to the other end of the couch. He noticed she flinched when her side bumped the back of the couch, "I just…things were finally somewhat normal with us. You were back and Cecilia was so happy and we were about to start a new life. And then all this happened and…it just feels like everything's falling apart." After all this time, Samantha finally released her feelings and begun to cry. Martin slid down the couch next to Samantha and put his arms around her.

"It's okay." He remembered back to many years ago when Sam was doing the same thing for him when he realized his aunt was dying.

"What about Cecilia? She's so quiet now…should I take her to therapy or try to talk to her? I don't want to scare her." Sam wiped her eyes.

"She's more worried about you," Martin tucked some of her hair behind her ears, "So am I." Samantha begun to cry again, but this time she didn't worry about gaining control over herself.

"I've gone over everything in my mind…I could have done something in the parking lot. I could have called out for help or defended myself. But I thought if I did, he'd do something to Cecilia or me." She buried her tear stained face into Martin's shoulder

"Everything is okay," He put his arm around her back, "It's okay now."

She pulled back after several minutes of crying. "I think I can sleep now." She said weakly, her fatigue finally coming to the surface.

"Okay," Martin helped her stand up. He remembered that at night, for some reason, she hurt more than in the day. Although she still had difficulty walking at any time. He kept his arm around her shoulders as they went into the bedroom.

Within an hour, Sam had fallen into a deep sleep. However, now it was Martin who stayed awake. He had gotten used to her pretending to sleep and going off to watch television when she got bored. She seemed more vulnerable now that she was asleep and Martin felt he had to protect her. The man, Jim, was dead, but the damage he left on Samantha and Cecilia would always leave a scar.

Samantha's eyes fluttered under her eyelids as she begun to dream. She dreamed of failing to protect Cecilia or any future children from danger. She dreamed that she couldn't move her arms and legs as her babies were being taken away. In horror, her inner-conscious watched as the world demolished around her. She was the only one left and there was nothing she could do. She dreamed of a black sky and blood-rain falling on her face as she looked and the graves of everyone she loved. Martin, Cecilia, her mother, Danny, Vivian, and a couple names she didn't recognize but she could guess as future children. As the rain-blood soaked through her skin she held a gun up to her head and fired.

Samantha nearly fell off the bed when she awoke. But luckily, Martin was able to catch her.

"Sam," He held her as she begun to shake, "What's wrong."

"It's just," She failed at attempting to calm herself down, "Maybe I'm the one who should go to counseling."

"Okay," Martin brushed her hair out of her eyes and noticed a tear trailing down her cheek. "Well make calls in the morning."

"What do you think it means." Samantha asked Lisa Harris after she told her, in great detail, about her disturbing dream the night before.

"Obviously you have some inner turmoil, and you feel responsible for the people around you."

"I knew that." Samantha paced around the room

"Samantha, when you had Cecilia, did you go through separation anxiety?"

"You know I did," Samantha said, remembering the times she went to see Lisa before and after Cecilia was born. "What does it matter?"

"You said you lost a baby," Sam sat down on the couch as she listened to Lisa, "You're probably just going though the same thing, but this time you're more self-destructive than depressed."

"I'm not self-destructive." Samantha said, trying to convince herself more than Dr. Harris.

"You're not sleeping and when you do, you're having violent dreams. Plus, you're withdrawing from others. That's self-destruction," Lisa paused, "I've spoken to some of your colleagues and they agree with me. You should take more time off work and spend it with your family, your daughter."

"Colleagues? Who…who did you talk to?" Samantha felt betrayed.

"Agents Taylor, Johnson, Malone, and Fitzgerald."

"What did Martin say?"

"He's worried about you, Samantha. They all are."

"What should I do about Cecilia?" Sam decided to change the subject.

"I was thinking you could take her to a child psychologist. I can give you the number of a friend of mine, her name is Monica Jules." Lisa scribbled out a name and number on a piece of paper.

"Thanks," Sam folded the paper up and put in her purse. "I should get going. When is my next appointment?" She stood up and put on her coat.

"Next Tuesday at eleven o'clock. Will that work?"

"Uh, yeah, that would be fine." Samantha walked out the door and found Martin wondering in the hallway.

"What brings you to the third floor?" Sam smiled at him

"I was just between elevators."

"Oh, that's real smooth." Sam pressed the down button, "So where are you headed?"

"Back up to the bullpen," They went into the elevator. Sam pressed 1 and Martin pressed 7. "How was your meeting with Lisa?"

"It was okay, I guess I needed it." She watched as the numbers begun to rise. "I'm going back next Tuesday. She gave me a number for Ceel, I'll probably call."

"Counselor?" Martin prepared the doors to open as the elevator reached seven.

"Yeah, I think it might be good for her."

"Probably," Martin squeezed her hand as he walked out of the elevator. "See ya tonight."

Samantha smiled and gave a quick wave to Danny who was walking by. The doors closed and Sam leaned against the elevator wall. She pulled out the piece of paper out of her purse. "Is mommy going to die?" She heard the voice distantly in her head. All Samantha wanted right then was for Cecilia to move on and stop being afraid. She also knew that for Cecilia to get better, she herself would have to get better too.