Elizabeth sat by her mother's side, holding tightly onto her hand. She wiped her forehead when she began sweating and did her best to stay strong. She could hear the commotion from outside in the station and wondered if they were any closer to finding out what was going on. As far as they knew, there were people all over London who were suffering with cholera. Elizabeth was thankful she hadn't drunk anything that day, but she only hoped that Edward was also well. He knew of the risks. He knew of them and he was sensible. Elizabeth knew that much.

"The photos…" her mother suddenly spoke and Elizabeth hunched towards her once more, brow furrowing. "They're everywhere…"

Elizabeth followed her mother's gaze to the wall where her father kept the photographs from the Ripper case pinned. She gulped and looked away from them, recalling how she had seen them herself when she had attempted to stop Mathilda from looking at them. She had done everything within her power to protect her sister from their father's work.

"Do not look at them," Elizabeth urged from her mother. "They do not bring you peace."

"Peace," Emily whispered that word. "When will we know peace, Elizabeth?"

"One day," Elizabeth spoke in a soft whisper. "I promise, mother, one day things will be as they should be."

"You're so beautiful…clever…" Emily whispered, squeezing her daughter's hand. "You could do so much with your life…you have to do that, for me. Do you promise me?"

"Mother, do not speak in such a manner," Elizabeth demanded harshly, not wanting to hear her. She would be fine. She would be safe. Elizabeth knew that. She just had to stay optimistic. "You will be fine. You will see this through and we will go home…and everything will be as it should be."

Emily shook her head. "It never will be," she said with a soft sob and Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Nothing will ever be the same…not without Mathilda…"

Elizabeth bowed her head at the mention of her sister once more. She sniffed and shook her head. Her mother had a point. Of course she had a point. She looked down to her lap just as she heard the door open. Thankfully she had no time to respond to her mother as Captain Jackson made his way into the office. He arched a brow, hands on his hips and his chin jutting outwards towards Emily.

"How is she?"

"Do you want to check?"

"Go on then." Jackson said.

Elizabeth managed to stand on her feet and hobble over towards her father's desk. She leant against the wood as Jackson took her place and looked over Emily. Elizabeth's eyes moved down to the folders on the desk and she scanned over them, wondering what case her father had been working on. She had no chance to find out as Jackson was standing once more and looking over to her. He gave her a soft nod and moved to whisper into her ear.

"Just try and keep her talking…as long as she is talking then she is distracted. Can you do that?"

"I can," Elizabeth said and Jackson squeezed her shoulder before letting her go to sit back down.

He looked over the two of them just as a sudden yell echoed into the station. Elizabeth looked to the door as Jackson left and bumped into Edmund on his way downstairs. Edmund told him that they had someone they needed to look over before he entered his office and saw his daughter with his wife.

"What is happening?" Elizabeth asked from her father and he moved to kneel down by her side and next to Emily.

"We found a man who can perhaps help us," Edmund simply said to his daughter before he moved a hand to his wife's cheek and brushed her hair from her face, pushing it away quickly. He gulped and her eyes moved to him.

"Edmund," she spoke his name and for a moment it sounded like it used to. She used to say his name with adoration before, not contempt like he had gotten used to in recent months. "I see her…I can see her…"

Edmund sighed. She was hallucinating.

"You will be fine, Emily, I swear," Edmund said to his wife.

"She is so beautiful…back with us where she should be," Emily said again and Elizabeth shook her head, blinking back her tears. Edmund didn't reply to her comments. Instead he kissed her on the forehead before standing up and squeezing his daughter's shoulder in his fingertips.

"The man down there is responsible for spreading this poison. We are trying to find out what he knows and where he has shipped his poison to…he works in a flour mill…he has synthesised this disease and spread it in the flour."

"Why?" Elizabeth asked from her father.

"Because he wants fame," was all Edmund could answer with and he bent down to kiss the top of her head. "Stay here…I will be back as soon as I can."

Edmund left Elizabeth alone then. She kept on talking, but her mother was slowly falling asleep. Her breathing was shallow but Elizabeth did her best to talk to her. She talked and she pleaded with her to open her eyes, not wanting anything to happen to her. She needed her mother to be safe and well. She couldn't lose her. They had lost too much. The family could not lose anymore.

"Mother, please," Elizabeth begged as her breathing grew shallower. "I know that I do not say this often enough, but I need you. I need you, mother. I…I know that times have been difficult and that…that you might blame me for what happened to her deep down, but please know that I need you. I…I might be nearly a woman, but I do not feel like one. I am still a girl who needs her mother's guidance. I look up to you. I admire everything that you do. I love you, mother. I love you and I want us to be as we once were. I just want you to…to show me that you love me…so that I know…I just need to know and I need you…please…just wake up for me."

Edmund stood in the doorway, listening in. He tried not to let his eyes water as he entered the room. He saw Elizabeth sniff loudly and she wiped her eyes with her free hand. She bowed her head and Edmund walked further into the office. Elizabeth looked over to him and he nodded to her.

"Do you want to sit down?" she asked him.

"No, you stay there," Edmund implored her.

He reached for his own chair at his desk and set it down next to Elizabeth's. He clasped his hands together and leant forwards while Elizabeth hummed softly, trying to wake her mother back up.

"How long has she been sleeping?" Edmund wondered.

"I don't know," Elizabeth answered honestly. "Not long now…her breathing is shallow…should it be shallow, father?"

"Perhaps," Edmund retorted. "I do not know, Elizabeth…just…she knows that we are both here for her. She knows that."

"Just wake up…please…" Elizabeth said, squeezing her mother's hand. "Mother…please…"

Opening her eyes, Emily looked between her daughter and husband. Her gaze flickered between the two of them and Edmund sighed in relief.

"She waved at me," Emily said to them, still sweating profusely. "But she told me that I had to go back…she told me that you still needed me."

Looking to Elizabeth, Emily's own eyes watered as she saw that her daughter had been crying. Her cheeks were stained red and she was struggling to control her own breathing as she launched herself forward and grabbed hold of her mother. She held her tightly to her as Edmund saw Emily struggle to wrap her own arms around Elizabeth, but she settled her chin on her shoulder and looked to Edmund. He managed a soft smile to her as her own lips arched back to him. She nodded once and Edmund went to squeeze her hand on Elizabeth's back as their daughter continued sobbing.

…

They had taken Emily home later on in the day and had insisted that she rest. Elizabeth had gone to the kitchen to make her something to eat and boil some water for tea. Edmund had helped Emily to their bedroom before coming back downstairs and finding Elizabeth in the kitchen, her hand holding onto her side.

"Are you well?" he asked from her.

"Fine," Elizabeth responded, sniffing again. "I think I just strained my side."

"Go and sit down," Edmund encouraged her. "I will make tea for your mother. You rest."

"I will be fine."

"I insist," he responded to her and she didn't bother to argue.

Instead she hobbled by him and went to the sitting room, collapsing into her mother's usual chair. She looked to the fireplace and her eyes remained wide. She heard her mother make the tea and go upstairs before he came back down and went to fetch Elizabeth a glass of milk, like he used to when she was a child. Her lips quirked once he had handed her the glass.

"I do not know if you still drink milk, but I did not think to ask."

"I do drink milk," she responded to him, taking the glass from his fingertips and holding onto while Edmund went to sit down in his own chair. "Is she going to be fine, father?"

"She will be," Edmund promised her. "She just needs rest and a good night's sleep. She is already discussing setting up a women's shelter. Your mother does not know of rest."

"I know," Elizabeth responded to him. "She…she likes to stay busy. I can understand that."

"You did well with her today, Elizabeth," Edmund said to her. "What you said to her…the words you spoke…your mother claimed that they helped her…they brought her back. You brought your mother back from the brink, Elizabeth. You did that."

"I only spoke to her."

"But you spoke so earnestly, Elizabeth," Edmund responded. "You spoke…well…in a way that you never speak to us very often…with honesty…"

"I think we can all be accused of not being honest, father," Elizabeth responded and Edmund knew that she had a point on that. They had all hidden from each other. "But what I said was true. I need her…and sometimes I think she doesn't think that I do…"

"Perhaps so," Edmund responded earnestly. "There comes a time when a father fears his daughter does not need him and so he clings on…but a mother…well…I suspect a mother has the same feelings, but is perhaps more willing to see her grow up as she has been forced to do."

"Maybe," Elizabeth replied, "but I do not particularly like the idea of growing up, not too quickly."

"I am glad to hear it," he said to her.

…

Elizabeth walked with Edward towards the police station the following week. She had finally been allowed to leave the house after Captain Jackson had said that her ribs had healed well. Edward had insisted on walking slowly, his arm entwined with Elizabeth's and his bowler hat perched on top of his head. He had been asked to pick up a file from the station as he was now working with another solicitor following the death of Mr Eagles.

"Is your father working today?"

"I would imagine so," Elizabeth responded. "He was gone before I was even awake this morning. Mother was also gone. Ever since she recovered she has been flying around setting up the new women's refuge centre."

"That sounds like your mother," Edward retorted.

"Things…they are not perfect," Elizabeth said to him and he looked down to her with a sad smile. "I did not expect them to be perfect, but ever since I told mother things when she was ill…I had hoped…perhaps…that there might be some change…but nothing. It is almost as though she struggles to come to terms with discussing feelings."

"I imagine it is hard for her. Perhaps she does not know how to bring things up? It can be difficult."

"Perhaps," Elizabeth weakly agreed before noting a strange sight around the corner. She stopped walking and Edward looked down, wondering what was going on in her mind.

"What is it, darling?" he wondered.

She squeezed his arm and nodded to the woman with her head. Edward followed her gaze before his own eyes landed on her. It was a young girl in a white dress.

"My God…" Edward whispered.

But her dress was covered in blood. Fresh blood.

…

A/N: Do let me know what you think!