Disclaimer: I don't own the OC!

The magical pink bubble hung suspended above all the chaos and destruction downstairs. If there was one word to describe it, it would be peace. The wind gently blew the wispy lace curtains and the fairly lights twinkled mysteriously as if they held a secret. A faint memory of scent permutated the room clinging on dress up gowns and feather boas. A person sat hunched in her daughter's bed with the covers wrapped around her like a cocoon. A place where everything was innocent and pure mixed with comfort and love; like two arms wrapped in a warm embrace around a young exuberant child.

Marissa gently thumbed through the picture book smiling slightly or even laughing at some of the still lives. The images blurred together forming the history of a boy and girl that fell in love despite the consequences. The history of a little girl that was born soon after that left the boy and girl hanging onto her every breath, counting little toes, and cooing nonsense when she refused to sleep. Most of the pictures held smiles that boarded upon ridiculously happy or miraculously amazed. The little girl grew up to be a big girl of four. Dark auburn hair swirled around a pixie face shadowed by big blue eyes. It was a little girl that adored her father and wanted to be just like her mother. A little girl that struggled to tie her shoes and refused to drink her milk unless it was in a coffee cup like everybody else. A little girl whose best friend was her parents' best friends creating a full circle. A little girl that was missing.

"Mommy, I love you forever and ever." Her last words.

"Daddy, why can't I take the hammer to school? I promise to use it only at the most opportune moment?"

"Ryan, why does our daughter insist on wearing that ridiculous white beater you gave her?"

"Mommy, I want to be a doctor, a teacher, an astronaut, a magician, the president, a princess, oh… and a pirate."

"Daddy, don't I look pretty?"

"Marissa, your daughter just ran outside without any clothes on insisting that she was wearing her birthday suit for her special day."

"Uncle Seth, don't you wish you had a little girl? Mommy and Daddy say that little girls are gifts from heaven."

"Mommy, go tell Daddy that there are monsters under my bed! Hurry, before they eat us!"

"I'm sorry Daddy, I didn't mean to spill all over your paper. I promise cross my heart hope to die to never do it again. Forgive?"

"Mommy, please…one more story. Just one! The one about how you and Daddy met and fell in love. Please…it's my favorite."

"Don't worry Dylan, I'll teach them a lesson. Daddy taught me how to make a fist and never put your thumb inside your fingers. Mommy doesn't know though…"

"Mommy, why don't I have a baby sister or brother? I want one."

Nausea flew up her body causing Marissa to stumble out of the covers and through the hall to the bathroom. Slamming the door shut behind her, she leaned over the toilet and heaved up all the contents of her stomach. Suddenly, her hair was brushed away from her face and held back. Finishing, she looked up into the eyes of the one Seth Cohen who stared back at her without blinking.

"Sorry about that," she mumbled while reaching around him for her toothbrush.

"Not a problem," Seth watched as she brushed her teeth while avoiding his gaze by staring out the window.

"Is there any new news?"

"No." That was all he had to say and had nothing else to say. Nothing else mattered.

Tears sprang up into her eyes and she hurriedly brushed them from her face trying to not let Seth see them.

"Hey, hey," Seth gently pulled her into his arms and let her cry all her sorrow, pain, guilt, anguish out. "You know," he said as he released her and made his way to the door. "I've heard that crackers work well to curb the nausea. But you probably knew that." Smiling gently into her astonished face, Seth opened the door and clicked it behind him.

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The house was quiet for the first time in days. It had been exactly sixty seven hours since Gemma went missing. Lieutenant Wylie had advised both Ryan and Marissa to stay home in case something happened and they had to be reached. After ten minutes of screaming at Wylie that she could not just sit in the house while her baby was scared, hungry, and might be hurt, Marissa fled the kitchen to somewhere in the house. Ryan had felt sick to his stomach watching his wife come undone. He felt like screaming too. Both of them wanted to be out looking for their missing daughter. It has been sixty seven hours that Ryan felt like his life was on a downward spiral. Rubbing his eyes in exhaustion, he walked into the garage and stopped in surprise. "What are you doing?"

Marissa stumbled backwards in surprise and almost fell on top of the car. "Ryan!" She shrieked while trying to regain her balance. Recovering, she turned her back on him and continued rooting through a box.

"Marissa, what are you doing?" He questioned lightly while trying to keep his voice from becoming demanding. She had been purposely avoiding him all afternoon. He had no idea why besides the fact that he was too exhausted to fight with her.

"Nothing, just looking for something. Oh! Found it!" She triumphantly held up an object before Ryan could see what it was and dropped it in a bag next to her. Shoving the box haphazardly back into the pile, she slowly picked her way through the mess in the garage.

Ryan stood watching his wife carefully. Although her actions were by no means strange, they were slightly out of the character for her. Besides avoiding him, she looked a little pale which was understandable with the circumstances but something was just off. "Are you feeling alright?"

'Umm, oh what? Yes, Ryan I feel just fine. In the past two days, my daughter has been taken, the police have no clues and won't listen to me, and you ask me if I am fine?" She swept by him with a scalding look and stomped through the house.

Ryan closed his eyes and looked toward the ceiling as if for guidance. Sometimes, his wife was just a huge puzzlement for him at times like this. Frowning, he made to follow her but stopped when he heard the front door open and slam. He broke out in a sweat while rushing into the house. Marissa was no where to be found. Dashing to the front door, he stood in the open archway watching a figure stride down the streets with her long hair blowing in the wind like a halo and bag bumping behind her. She reminded him of a rebel angel going off to battle. He was scared for her. Looking up toward the darkening sky becoming shrouded by storm clouds, he yelled her name. For a second, her stride hesitated and she cast one long look over her shoulder. That was all he needed. He was out the door running toward her when the rain came with resounding whoosh making everything blurry to the human eye.

To be Continued! Thanks for reading!