(I forgot to disclaim the last chapter as I am not making any money off of writing this. Also, a few of the details of what happened on the show might be different than what happened in my version. Nothing too drastic, though. Also, it's only been a couple of years since Brandon move.)

"I'm going to be late," Steve groaned as he packed his daughters lunch into the top of her backpack, making sure that her peanut butter and jelly sandwich wouldn't be crushed between then and lunch.

"Maddy, hurry up!" Janet called. She threw her hair back into a messy bun. Mornings were hectic around their home. Getting Maddy off to school was definitely not an easy task. Just like her father -- she was not interested in attending school.

"I'm still looking for my other shoe, Mommy!" Maddy called back down.

"Wear a different pair!" Steve hollered from the kitchen as he tried to gather up a few of his daughters things that she needed for school -- such as her jacket, just to make Janet's life a little easier.

"Daddy, you can't wear a different pair of shoes with this outfit! Auntie Donna told me so!"

"So then wear a different outfit!" he yelled.

"No time to change!"

"Maddy, I found you're shoe!" Janet announced. "It was in the laundry room!"

"Why was it there, Mommy?" she asked, bounding down the stairs.

"We'll ponder that in the car, now lets hussle!" Steve said as he entered the foyer where Janet was helping Maddy put on her shoes. He handed his wife her purse, and daughter her backpack once her shoes were firmly on her feet, and ushered them outside and towards the car.

As soon as the front door shut, the phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Finally, the answering machine picked up.

"Hey, it's Brandon. I thought I'd try and catch you before you went to work, but I guess I missed you. I don't have to leave for work for another three hours or so-"

Steve raced back into the house because he forgot to grab the car keys from the table by the stairs, hearing the tail end of Brandon's call "give me a call if you get this message. Talk to -"

Steve lunged for the phone, picking it up. "Brandon."

"Hey Buddy, I thought I missed you."

"Just about," he agreed. "If I hadn't forgot the keys again, I wouldn't have gotten your message until tonight."

"Forgetting the keys? Wow, you must be going senile in your old age," he joked.

"STEVE!" Janet yelled as she jogged up the walk. She stopped when she noticed him on the phone, giving him a disapproving look. Whenever they were on their way out the door, they'd agreed to never answer the phone. Especially if they were running late.

"It's Brandon," he defended.

"Maddy?" she pointed to the car reminding Steve that she was going to be late for school again.

"Crap," Steve muttered. "Here," he decided, tossing his wife the keys, "you take her to school and I'll drive my car in."

"Don't be long," she scolded before shutting the door behind her, and going on her way.

"Married life, huh?" Brandon joked again.

"You don't know the half of it," Steve groaned. "So what're you doing up so early? Isn't it like 5 in Washington?"

"Yep," Brandon sighed. He'd been waking up early for the last few months to work from home. No boss barking orders, or co-workers needing help. No ringing phones to distract him. It was the time of day that he was starting to enjoy the most. But, he wasn't calling to talk about himself. "So, you said on your message yesterday that The Beat was giving you trouble?"

"Everything is going down the toilet," Steve said quietly, wishing that he didn't have to tell Brandon this. He was a man with a lot of pride, and asking for help wasn't one of his strong suits. "It's turning into one of those supermarket tabloids."

"We've already got enough of those," Brandon agreed. "How long has it been like this?"

"Too long."

"Whose the Editor now?"

"Me."

"Steve, I'm trying to help, but I need you to fill me in on things," he said. "One and two word answers are not enough. Tell me about the staff changes, and when the paper started to loose readers."

"Janet was Editor until Maddy was born. She wanted to stay at home with her until she felt she could leave Maddy with a nanny without feeling guilty. I agreed, so I took over as Editor in her absense. Things were going OK for a while, then my Dad got sick, so I handed over the reigns to one of the top writers. It was around this time that the paper started to nose dive -"

"Steve, that was two years ago! Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

"I thought I could turn it around after I took over as Editor again, but the damage was done. We lost a large portion of our readers. The staff didn't seem to have much respect left for me or the paper, and were turning in pieces of crap. I had to let a few of them go. When I hired replacements, it was like they saw what The Beat had become and just decided to turn in pieces of crap like everyone else. Star journalism for a star paper," he finished sarcastically.

"How bad is it?" Brandon asked.

"I just told you."

"Steve," Brandon sighed. "I mean, how bad is it for you and Janet?" Silence. "Steve?"

"It's even worse," he admitted quietly. "We're going to have to start dipping into my trust. Somethings gotta give."

"That is bad," Brandon agreed. "Is there anything you can do?"

"Yeah," he answered, "but neither of us are happy about it."

"What is it?"

Steve didn't want to have to say this, but there was no way he could hold it in. "We're putting the house up for sale today."

Brandon's heart sank. It was like a piece of him just died. Like the one place he truly felt was his home would no longer be his. Technically it wasn't, but he always felt that it would be there whenever he returned.

"I dipped into my trust when we first started The Beat, but after it started turning a profit, I put the money back in. Then I dipped in it again to buy the house from you. I paid it back too, but now the mortgage is just getting to be too much to carry, Bran."

"I understand," he answered.

"I wish there was some other way, but we can't come up with anything."

"Steve, you need to do whatever you have to do. You have a wife and daughter to take care of. So what if a house has to be sold for you to do that?"

Steve was grateful that Brandon was being so cool about it, but he knew that it was hard for Brandon, too. He became a man in that house. "Thanks, man. So, any idea about what I should do with the paper?"

"Give me a few hours to think about it. We'll come up with something, I promise."

"Right," Steve answered, unconvinced.

"When have I ever let you down?" Brandon asked.

Steve let out a small smile, "never."

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Kelly stood in front of the full length mirror wearing nothing but her bra and panties. She examined her light skin in the morning sunlight that came streaming through the bedroom window. She winced softly as her fingertips found a fresh bruise forming. She then examined the bruises that were beginning to fade. Her face was still sore from last night after he'd lashed out and slapped her - hard.

She looked down at the man in her bed, small tears forming in her eyes when she saw the red scratch marks across his cheeks. Marks that she'd put there. Defending herself. Of course, he'd been in a drunken stupor when he stumbled into the beach apartment. When he offered her a hit of his cocaine to "loosen you up" and she refused, then asking him to take it outside, he became enraged. When she tried to defend herself, the beating only got worse.

She was tired. She didn't have the energy to fight anymore.

She was tired of the abuse, and wanted it to stop, but was scared. Scared of what he'd do to her when she would tell him it was over. Scared that if she survived, she'd have to be alone again.

He stirred in the bed, the sheets rustling against him. He didn't open his eyes, but turned over and tried to drape his arm over Kelly. Noticing she wasn't there, he opened one eye. "Kelly?" he called, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"Right here," she said quickly, not wanting to suffer his anger in the morning right before going into work.

"Where are you going?" Chris demanded.

"The office," she tried to smile warmly. "I'm not sure what time I'll be home tonight. The firm has a couple of new clients coming in today, and I've got some interviews tonight. I have to find a new rep in the next couple of days or I won't have time to eat or sleep." It was an excuse and she knew it. She just hoped that he couldn't tell that she was lying. She just didn't want to come home.

He nodded his head, but didn't look happy. "We aren't spending enough time together, Kel. I miss you."

She silently pulled on a pair of jeans, and a long sleeve shirt that covered most of her skin. The only skin she was showing these days were her hands, neck and face. And even those had traces of him most of the time. She glanced out the window and noticed some early morning sun bathers fanning themselves against the warm sun. It was going to be a scortching hot day and she was all covered up -- because of him. Needing to hide her bruises.

Chris removed himself from the bed sheets and moved closer to her. Once he was standing behind her, he wrapped his arms around her front, and kissed her neck, but watched her in the mirror. It was a ritual. They did this same thing every morning. And, just like every other morning, she gently pried herself from his arms, and smiled softly.

"If you keep doing that, I'm going to be late."

"That's the point," he winked.

"As tempting as that is," her stomach turned, "I can't. Not today." She placed a quick, chaste kiss on his cheek and headed for the door. "I picked up your favorite muffins yesterday at the store, so if you want one for breakfast, it's in the fridge."

"Love you!" he called after the bedroom door clicked shut behind her. She responded, but it was muffled, and he assumed she called "love you" back to him. Satisfied, he crawled back into bed and passed out.

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Brandon arrived at work right on schedule that morning, but just sat in his chair for an hour, staring at a blank computer screen. He absently twirled a pen in his hand, thinking.

"Walsh!" his boss said, walking into his office. "What're you doing?"

"I'm sorry?" he asked, sitting up in his chair.

"Do I pay you to sit there and twirl a pen?"

"No, sir," he shook his head.

"Then get to work," he huffed.

"Ah, sir?" Brandon asked, standing up as his boss was about to exit his office.

"What?" he turned around.

"I think we need to talk."

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Kelly looked down at the park from the window. She felt so isolated. So alone. A single tear slipped down her face as she turned back to her desk. Slowly, she opened the bottom drawer of her desk and gingerly pulled out the photo of her and Brandon that she'd still been proudly displaying at her apartment up until a few months ago. She'd taken it down when Chris made an impromtu visit one night, and basically invited himself to move in.

These days, she could only look back on a time when she was truly happy. Truly in love. And had someone love her back unconditionally. The tears started to fall faster and a gentle sob escaped her lips. She kissed the tip of her finger and placed it over Brandon's face. She placed it back in the drawer and pushed it shut.

"You can't live in the past anymore, Kelly," she chided herself quietly. "This is your life now. This is how it's supposed to be."