The days seemed to all run into each other. Ian began to wonder if he was losing his mind, because of the monotony. Every morning the lights came on and sirens roared, the cell doors opened and everyone was expected to step outside of their cells. After roll was taken, the guards escorted them to breakfast in the cafeteria. To call it food would be too charitable—Ian imagined that the stuff they served must be similar to the gruel that Dickens described in his novels. After breakfast, they were given a menial work detail until lunch. After lunch they had one hour in the exercise yard, and then worked until dinner. After dinner, they returned to their cells until lights out. Then it started all over again the next day.

Ian found his incarceration to be a solitary existence. At breakfast the first morning, he tried to talk to someone—anyone—just to find out where he was and what to expect. He found that most of his fellow inmates spoke little or no English, and stayed near others who spoke the same language they did. The few people who knew English were angry and difficult, and unwilling to help the new inmate in any way. After making attempts at conversation to gain information, Ian realized the futility of his task. He decided to stick to himself and hope that he was capable of waiting it out—he knew that Lucy would find her way to him. He lived for the nights—at lights out he would stretch out on his cot and close his eyes. He felt Lucy close beside him; he could smell her fragrance and feel her body in his arms. He knew that their connection was as strong as ever, but it was a bittersweet time each evening. When he tried to concentrate, to project information to her—he lost the connection. Only in relaxing did he sense her nearness, and after a few nights he gave up trying to force the connection.

In spite of the anger he felt over his false imprisonment, Ian was acutely aware that his circumstances could have been worse. The prison building had seemed huge when he first went through the entrance, and he had felt a great deal of apprehension about what he would find inside those walls. However, it appeared that he was confined to a single cellblock, and that he and his fellow prisoners were completely segregated from the rest of the prison population. Although they were aware of other prisoners, there was never any interaction between his group and the rest of the prison. They were asmall enough group—and there were enough guards—to prevent the fights and other dangerous or repulsive activities often occurred in prisons. Ian had no illusions about how he might have fared had he been in the general population—and he certainly wouldn't have been allowed to keep to himself.

During the days, though, Ian still tried to speak with his guards—but they were reticent of speaking with him. He asked when he could call his attorney, and the guards seemed to enjoy the humor. He tried to tell them that he was a doctor and even offered to help in the infirmary—but was told that he wasn't needed. The only thing he was able to wheedle out of one guard was that his cellblock exclusively housed non-citizens from many different countries who were being held under the Homeland Security Act for alleged crimes against the United States. Ian believed that he was probably not the only person being held by mistake and was amazed that no one seemed to be aware of this travesty of justice.

Each day that Ian was missing Lucy seemed more despondent. Patrick and Marty were worried about her—she seemed to lose interest in everything except sleeping. She had taken to napping in the morning and the afternoon, and waking up tired and cranky. Only in caring for Caroline did she show any interest at all. Marty went to the clinic to talk with Kevin and ask for suggestions to help Lucy—he knew her better than anyone else. Kevin, though, was also at a loss—he'd only seen Lucy give in like this once before – when Julie had run away with Christina. He had to admit to Marty that he didn't know how to rouse her, because it had been Ian's friendship that had finally broken through her despair the last time.

Both Scott and the attorney in New York were working on Ian's case. Based on the circumstantial evidence, they were optimistic that they could negotiate Ian's release quickly. Each day Lucy woke with new hope that it would be the day that Ian returned, and each night she went to bed looking forward to joining him in slumber. Each day was a little worse than the day before, and everyone was concerned that Lucy wasn't going to survive the ordeal.

Lucy, though, was fighting for herself and for Ian. She realized that she was connected to Ian when they slept, so she was sleeping as much as possible trying to reach him. When she consciously reached out—the connection was severed; but the visions of Ian were too vivid, she knew they were real. It made sense to Lucy that the more she slept, the more time she could spend with her husband finding his location. However, the time spent in bed was disorienting to her—and she wasn't able to explain it to Patrick or Marty. She was actually afraid of what they might think or do if they knew she was sleeping to be with Ian—but she was determined to reach him—and this was the only way that had worked so far.

Alison came over each day to help Marty and Patrick with the children, and to check on Lucy. Marty liked Alison, and knew just enough of her story to realize what an amazing young woman she was. Marty confided her concern for Lucy to Alison, who decided that it was time to force Lucy to snap out of her stupor.

"Lucy…Lucy…wake up Lucy!" Alison said shaking her awake from her morning nap. "You can't keep doing this! What will Ian think when he comes home and finds out that you've given up?"

"Allie…Alison? Is that you? What are you doing here? Why did you wake me up?" Lucy said in confusion. "I NEED to sleep right now…I can't…you take care of it…whatever it is…you do it…I'm going back to sleep…"

"LUCY! No!" Alison raised her voice. "You need to WAKE UP! You have four children who need you—you have to fight now. You wouldn't let me give up after I lost the baby and Rafe—I'm not letting you give up now!"

"The baby and Rafe—you've never mentioned them before! Alison! Have I gotten that bad? You wouldn't mention them unless you were really worried about me, would you?" Lucy asked her friend.

"I am so worried about you, Lucy, and I'm not the only one. Marty's at her wit's end—she even went to Kevin for advice. And I don't know if you've noticed, but she doesn't like Kevin very much. And Patrick's worried—we're all worried about you. It's not like you to give up…I can't stand it anymore. Please, Lucy, please come back to us. Help us fight to get Ian back," Alison begged her.

"Oh, Alison! I'm so sorry! I am fighting to get Ian back! Don't you understand?" Lucy said.

"No, I don't understand at all. You barely eat—you sleep all the time. I know enough to know that those are signs of depression. What good will it do if Ian comes home and you end up in the hospital?" Alison said softly.

"I'm not depressed—I'm angry and I'm worried, but I'm not depressed. I promise I eat enough. Patrick and Marty make sure that there's always a meal and I wouldn't do that to Caroline. I have to keep up my strength so that I can feed her—I couldn't stand it if my milk went bad right now," Lucy explained.

"But you're sleeping…all the time…" Alison pointed out again.

"…to see Ian, Alison. You remember I told you once that we had a connection…we could reach each other with our hearts?" Lucy asked and Alison nodded in reply. "Well, when I'm asleep, I can see him…I can be with him. Especially at night—when we're both sleeping, we're together. I keep trying to reach him. I know if I can get through to him, I can find out where they're keeping him and we can get him back."

"You have to tell them, Lucy. At least tell Patrick and Marty—they'll understand more than you think. When I'm around them it almost feels like they are two halves of one person, they're that in tune with each other. The only other couple that has affected me that way is you and Ian. If Ian can communicate with you that way—Patrick is his brother and I would bet that he and Marty can do it, too," Alison encouraged her.

"I don't know—I don't want to scare them—but I do want to make them understand. What about everyone else? You said the others are worried, too."

"No one understands, Lucy. Come on—you never felt that with Kevin or Scott did you? Actually, I think they'd be a little jealous. I'm not saying you have to tell everyone—but you owe it to Patrick and Marty. They've been taking care of you and of your children. Isn't this supposed to be their vacation?" Alison said, trying to make Lucy feel guilty enough to confide in her family. "Come downstairs with me now. I'll watch the kids—you talk to them. Or would you like me to send them up here?"

"Can you…I mean, I think I'd…" Lucy started. Alison looked at her and Lucy tried again, "Up here…I think, yeah, up here is better. Thanks."

Alison left the room and went downstairs, she smiled at Patrick and Marty who were anxiously waiting in the living room, "I'll keep an eye on the kids, you go on up. She's awake and she wants to talk to you. Just keep an open mind, okay?"

Patrick jumped up and headed for the door, Marty followed after saying, "Thanks, Alison. I don't know what we'd have done without you these last few days. You're a wonderful friend to Lucy…and to us."

"You're more than welcome…now go talk to Lucy!" Alison replied.

Patrick knocked on the open door to Lucy and Ian's bedroom and said softly, "You wanted to see us?"

"Yes, come in Patrick. Where's Marty, is she coming?" Lucy answered. She had gotten up from the bed and was sitting on a chair by the window. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace and two chairs next to it for them to sit in.

"Margaret's comin'," he smiled sheepishly, "I ran…she walked."

Lucy smiled and laughed… the first time Patrick had heard a real laugh from her in days. "Ah, it's good to hear you laughing, Lucy. I don't mind telling you just how worried we've all been. Margaret…she even went to see your ex at his clinic…she was at her wit's end!"

"I'm sorry I've worried you, I didn't mean to," Lucy said. "Alison convinced me that I owe you both an explanation, though." Lucy smiled warmly at Marty as she entered the room and sat down next to her husband.

"Lucy…you know I'm a doctor…I want to…" Marty started.

"Marty, I love you. Thank you so much for taking care of the children…and of me. I don't need a doctor…I promise you…I'm not depressed…I haven't given up…" Lucy interrupted.

"…but Lucy…" Marty tried to say. Patrick laid a hand on her arm, "Let her finish, Angel. I think she wants to tell us somethin' important."

"Thanks, Patrick. You both know about—my…my…I guess you'd call them…notions—isn't that the word you used, Patrick?" As both Thornharts nodded, she continued. "Well, I've had them all my life, and I've learned to trust in them. Now what I have to tell you may seem a little far-fetched, but you have to promise me that you'll both keep an open mind—okay?"

"Whatever you want, Lucy, just tell us what's going on!" Marty said to her.

"When I'm asleep…I can be with Ian," she said simply and then paused for their reaction. When no one interrupted, she continued, "Ian and I have this…this connection. Ever since we first became…intimate…we have this sense of each other. We have known when the other was in trouble…or hurt…or…oh lots of things. Anyway, the connection is still there, but it's being blocked somehow. We have been able to read each other before—but we can't do that now. Every time I try to connect with him purposely…it fails. But when I'm asleep, I can see him…and when we're both asleep…we're together…somewhere…somewhere not here and not there…just together. Is this making any sense at all?"

Patrick slowly nodded his head as he looked at his wife, "It does, doesn't it, Angel? I don't understand it, but I feel it—with you." He lifted his wife's hand and kissed it tenderly, "You feel it, too—don't you, Angel?"

"I shouldn't believe in it…I'm a doctor…I believe in science and research…but you're right…I feel it with Patrick," Marty answered, never taking her eyes from her husband's.

"Alison said you'd understand," Lucy whispered, trying not to break the spell over the room. "She's a very perceptive young woman."

"Aye, that she is, Lucy. You are lucky to have her as a friend—and thank you for sharing your, uh, notions with us. Now, how can we put them to use in finding Seamus—Ian?" Patrick said.

"Well, I can tell you what I see…but I just can't seem to control it enough to get the information we need to find him," Lucy answered him.

"Lucy—you don't have to do this alone, you know. It's possible that we can figure this out if we share information. Your friend Victor has been a great deal of help, maybe a description of the place where Ian's being held will help us find him," Marty suggested.

"Okay…this is what I've seen…and I just HATE it!" Lucy answered vehemently. "He's being held in a prison somewhere…and he's alone a lot…which makes me wonder if it's solitary confinement…anyway, he's in a cell and he doesn't get to go outside much at all…and he's hungry all the time…and he's sad and lonely and misses his family…and I'm afraid that I'm losing him…" Lucy started to cry and couldn't finish.

Patrick knelt down next to Lucy's chair and wrapped her in his arms. "There, there…we'll find him…we have to…it's gonna be okay, now…I promise," he crooned to her as if she were one of the children.

Lucy relaxed against Patrick for a moment, and then pulled out of his arms, "I'm not going to let this get to me. I can't lose Ian…I won't! I'm going to call Victor and Scott right now and ask them to come over with whatever information they have."

"That's a good idea, Lucy. Come help me make us some lunch, Patrick," Marty said with a wink at her husband before she headed out of the bedroom.