Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of „McLeod's Daughters", they belong to Channel Nine, Millenium Television, and the South Australian Film Corporation. This fanfic was written for fun, not for profit, all of the characters and events described are fictitious. In other words: Please don't sue me.

Author's Note: You know how I said I was going to try and write a cheerful one-parter for once? Well…I lied. Sorry. This one's been on my mind for ages.

Down In That Place Again

The obnoxious, painful ringing of the alarm sounded through the bedroom. Not again, it couldn't have been ten minutes since the last time. Tess opened her eyes in a reflexive reaction to the sudden sound, but shut them again quickly. The light was too bright, too piercing. It hurt, just like every other centimetre of her body. The high-pitched pinging resonated in her aching head.

She reached out with her right arm, fumbling her way across the bedstand, until she could feel the cold plastic surface of her alarm. Tapping the "snooze" button gave her temporary relief, and she sighed, curling up in a foetal position with the covers drawn up to her chin.

The warmth engulfed her and for a moment, just for one brief instant in time, she felt relaxed, protected, detached – until reality kicked in. If she stayed like this, she would fall asleep again. It was time to get up, she had to. There were animals to be fed, stables to be mucked out, sheep to be rounded up for the upcoming vaccination…but she didn't care. At that moment, she couldn't have cared less. Someone would take care of that business…someone…just not her…not for another few minutes…just a little while…

Sleep returned, welcoming her in its loving embrace. She drifted around in a stage between alert wakefulness and dreaming, experiencing the fleeting imagery of that state. Incoherent pictures washed through her mind, leaving her again with only the faintest hint of a trace that they had ever been there, like the imprint of a warm hand. Nothing mattered, nothing but the floating motion…

The siren struck again, making her jump this time. Filled with a sudden rage, Tess sat up rapidly, took the alarm and turned it off completely, setting it back down violently. She dropped back onto her bed, lying on her back with her eyes open, just breathing. In. Out. In. Out. It felt as if a heavy weight was resting on her chest, suffocating her. Her eyes were dry and cold, burning, she just wanted to close them again. Sleep, without having to face things. Pretend none of it had ever happened. And yet she couldn't.

How long would she have to wait before calling? How long? It was too early, that much was for sure. Peter wouldn't answer the phone at this hour. She needed to know, though, needed to be sure that her little girl was doing okay. They didn't know Charlotte that well, what if they didn't notice when something was wrong with her? What if she was feeling lonely, irritated by all of these strange people? She suddenly realized that she hadn't told them about her niece's habit of trying to climb out of her bed early in the morning. They needed to know that, needed to be sure that she couldn't get out, that she was safe. She had to be safe.

Tess tried to console herself by imagining what the little girl might be doing right now. Maybe she was still asleep, but she might also be wide awake, clutching Puck, the bear, with her tiny arms. Had she been on Drover's, Tess would have woken her by now. She would have dressed her, talked to her in her sweetest voice, tickled her, made up some breakfast. Had she been there, Tess wouldn't have been lying in bed.

It didn't make things any better. She tried to swallow down a lump that had begun to form in her throat, but it wouldn't go away. What did she care about sheep and cattle, or mucking out stables? What did she care about decisions of the bloody farmer's council? There was no point.

She closed her eyes and all the while, what remained was her steady breathing. In. Out. In. Out. All that she asked for was a bit of sleep, or more than a bit, she didn't want to wake up. And yet she needed to keep things going. This farm was all that was left in her life, all that was there to get up for now. She hadn't realized how much taking care of her niece, making her happy, keeping her promise, had kept her going. That it had been the only thing.

She kept telling herself that it was best for Charlotte this way, that a child should be with its parents. BOM shouldn't have to go through what she had gone through, she shouldn't grow up without her father and sisters. All of these years Tess had lost with Claire, never getting a chance to sort things out with Jack…these things burdened her so much. She wished things had been different for her back then. Charlotte was supposed to be happy, she was supposed to grow up in a "whole" family. It would have been selfish of her to deny her niece that.

But no matter how much Tess reasoned with herself, no matter how much she tried to convince herself that it had been the right decision, that she would still be able to have an important part in Charlotte's life – she couldn't help feeling that she had lost her. She had let her go, broken her promise…and once again, it had been her own fault.

And no matter how much she tried to keep herself going, for her niece, for Drover's Run, she just couldn't do it anymore. First Claire, now Charlotte. She had fallen into that dark pit again, but this time, there was no reason to pull herself out of it. It just made no sense. She was tired. She was burnt out. She couldn't force herself to get up for a paddock full of bloody sheep.

In. Out. She could hear someone clattering with the dishes downstairs. The sun was shining on her face, so she could see the orange colour of her closed eyelids. Amazingly, nothing happened. No system failed, no tragedy stroke, simply because Tess McLeod had decided not to get up one morning. It didn't matter.

She turned around to her side again, desperately trying to get thoughts of Charlotte out of her head. It wasn't that it was too painful; it was that gaping feeling of emptiness, the shortage of all emotions, which sometimes overcame her, that scared her. She couldn't cry, couldn't laugh. She was just there, functioning like a machine. A deficient machine.

"Tess?" a distant voice called up the stairs. "Tess, are you up?"

She blocked it out, burying her head deeper in the pillow. Suddenly, it seemed impossible to fall asleep again, to ignore the steps outside her bedroom, the knocking.

The door creaked as it was being opened with great care. "Tess?"

She could hear Meg approaching her bed hesitantly, the old wooden boards grating underneath her feet. "Tess…it's important…"

Tess decided to open her eyes and sat up slowly. "What is it?"

Meg sighed. "Dave called. He said he won't vaccinate the rams before they're castrated."

"What?" It took her a moment to reach full consciousness, to grasp the meaning of the words. "Why?"

"He mentioned something about new regulations, but it sounded very wishy-washy to me. I think you should talk to him."

"I will."

A moment of awkward silence passed between them. When Meg looked at her, her eyes mirrored the concern Tess could see in everyone when they observed her these days. She sat down on the bed carefully. "I'm sure she's alright" she said quietly.

Tess nodded silently.

"What about you?"

"I'm fine." The words left her mouth mechanically.

"Tess, if you want to talk-"

"Thank you, Meg, but I'm fine." She slipped out from underneath the protecting covers, setting her bare feet onto the rough ground carefully. "I'll get ready and call Dave."

Her friend nodded and turned to leave to give her some privacy. "I'll see you downstairs."

Tess walked over to the window, opening it with some force. The stuffiness in her bedroom was unbearable. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to wake herself up.

She was fine. She had to be.