Stevie McCord could recognize she was hysterical. A distant part of her brain kept telling her to calm down, but she just couldn't seem to stop her heart from racing. She had started crying, a block from home. By the time the car pulled to a stop in front of the house, she recognized that she might not even be able to stand. Martha looked up, as a man approached the car.

"This is it, right? Stevie?" Martha asked.

"I . . . I . . ." Was all she could manage.

"Who are all those people?" Martha saw the familiar knot of agents in front of the McCord home. One walked toward the car.

"Ma'am," An agent said after knocking on the car window. "You can't park here. You need to move your car immediately."

"She lives here." Martha indicated Stevie, who was now openly sobbing.

The agent peered across the seat. "Stevie?" Recognizing her, he spoke into a radio at his collar, "We found Gazelle. Someone notify Captain America."

"Is her mother alright? We couldn't . . ."

Another agent approached the other side of the car. "Stephanie? Let's go inside." The agent said opening her door.

"Thank you for bringing her home." The other agent said to Martha. "They'll take her to her family but can I get some information from you? She's been dodging her detail and been AWOL from her parents. It would be better if we had solid contact information."

"Yes. . ." Martha said distractedly, watching as Stevie was led, between two agents leaning heavily on them. The front door flew open and a man ran down the steps to meet her just as she fell.

***MS***

Stevie found it impossible to breathe and was fairly certain she was having a heart attack. She didn't remember getting out of the car but found herself crossing the dark street between two agents whose names she couldn't even remember. She wasn't even walking. They were pretty much carrying her. She wanted to ask about her mom but couldn't seem to push syllables into words. She couldn't believe how horrible she felt - her heart thudded in her chest and she could not get any air in her lungs.

"Wha . . . Is . . . I . . ."

"Let's get inside." The agent said to her. She couldn't really see but recognized the familiar outline of her father as he threw open the door and rushed down the steps to her.

"Stevie!" He grabbed her out of the agents arms. "It's okay. Mom is fine. Mom is safe."

He hugged her tight and her knees buckled. She slid to the ground, hyperventilating, desperate for air. He knelt beside her. "Sweet, it's okay. Mom is fine. Nothing happened."

"She's having a panic attack, Dr. McCord. Let's get her inside."

They moved to lift her, but he was quicker. He picked her up off the ground carrying her past Alison who held the door open. Jason stood wide-eyes just inside the door.

"Go get a lunch bag, Jase." He said carrying her to the couch. She lay back but he shifted her so she sat upright. "No, baby. Head down." He gently pushed her head down. "Get the quilt, Noodle." Alison who stood motionless watching, unfroze and dashed into the room bring back a quilt. She put it around her sister's shoulders just as Jason handed his father a brown paper bag. He took it and opened it.

"Stephy, breathe into this." He kept his voice calm. Hold it right against your mouth." He put her hand on the bag and she held it. "That's better. You have to focus honey. Think about slowing your heartbeats. You can do it, sweetie. Think calm, sllow and steady." He looked up. "Ali, come here. Sit with her. I'm gonna . . ." He glanced up. "Talk to her. Just keep talking." He waited until Alison was beside her and then pulling out his phone scanned through his contacts until he found the right number. He hovered just at the edge of the room, his eyes on his daughters.

"Hello?"

"Dr. Sherman? This is Henry McCord, I'm sorry to . . ." He began breathlessly.

"No, what is it? You sound distressed. I saw something on the news, but your wife is alright, isn't she?"

"Yes. No. Elizabeth is fine but we didn't know it for a bit. My oldest, she's having a panic attack and I can't . . . She's . . ."

"Stephanie? Right? She's nineteen?"

"No, uh twenty. No! She's just turned twenty-one."

"She's thin, like your wife? Same height?"

"I . . . Yeah, maybe a half-inch taller. I don't . . . She's breathing into a paper bag right now but . . ."

"Henry, she's fine. It just looks scary and it's hard to watch. You still have the Xanax I prescribed Elizabeth don't you?"

"Um, yeah, I think we do. She never took any."

"Well, that's typical." Dr. Sherman said. "That woman's got an iron will. Okay, so Stevie is healthy? No heart issues or history of epilepsy?"

"No, she's perfectly healthy."

"Okay, give her one pill. It should calm her, okay?"

"Okay," He paused. "I'm sorry for using the emergency number . . . I didn't want to take her to the ER, the press would. . ."

"It's fine, Henry. Go get her the meds. If you need anything else, you can call me. That's why I gave you this number. Elizabeth's not home yet?"

"No."

"I want you guys to call me when she's home."

"Thank you, Dr. Sherman."

"You're welcome."

***MS***

Stevie opened her eyes to discover she was laying in her parent's bed. Her sister, Alison was asleep beside her. Her head was pounding and she felt completely disoriented. She threw back the covers and padded down the hall, heading downstairs when she saw a glowing light below. She sat down half-way down the stairs she sat, listening to her father's quiet voice.

". . .asleep. She's okay. I left her in our bed with Ali."

"No, when she wakes up - first thing. It was worse than anything I've seen, I couldn't calm her. I had to sit with her - even asleep she was crying." He rubbed his face. "No," He paused, listening. "No, she's okay now. I'm sorry. I know that, babe. You're right, okay?"

"Can I . . ." Stevie stood hesitating. "Will she talk to me?"

Her father stood and turned. "She's awake! She's right here!" He carried the phone meeting Stevie at the bottom of the stairs. He wrapped an arm around her, guiding her to sit on the couch. He handed the phone to her.

"You didn't ask her." Stevie said holding the phone in her hand. "She might not want to . . ."

"Talk to your mother, Stephy." He said leaning forward and kissing her forehead. He sat beside her an arm around her, knowing he should give her privacy but unable to let go.

"Mom?"

"Stevie! Thank God! It is so good to hear your voice!"

"I'm so sorry Mom! Please, please! Please forgive me! I'm so sorry!"

"Shh, baby. It's okay. I'm fine and I'm coming home. We can talk about everything, okay?"

"I'm just . . . Mama, I've messed everything up!" She sobbed. Henry squeezed her tighter.

"It's going to be okay, honey." He said.

"No, you haven't. You didn't mess up everything. And we can fix anything! Nothing is ruined forever." Elizabeth said calmly.

"You don't even know! I'm just a screw up! I'm so . . . I'm not like you. I can't . . . There's nothing you can't . . ." She felt her heart rate increase as she struggled to breathe.

"Stevie!" Her mother's voice was firm. "Stop. You are going to throw yourself right back into a panic attack. Where's Dad?"

Henry leaned in and said into the phone. "I'm right here." He reached for the phone and clicked a button. "You're on speaker, babe."

"Good. He's really good at keeping you calm. Listen to him. Baby, listen to the sound of my voice. Just breathe. Don't worry about anything else. In and then slow and easy out."

"Mom . . . I shouldn't have . . . I'm so . . ."

"Stop talking." Her mother told her. "Listen, you remember when we took that little sailboat out by Nantucket. You were maybe eleven."

"I remember."

"We got out and the whole thing just flattened out. No wind at all and we just lay on our backs looking up at the endless sky. It was so peaceful. Do you remember how it felt?"

"I do." Stevie said, her breathing slower.

"Dad was worried because we were gone so long."

"I thought you'd drifted out to sea and I grabbed some guys skidoo and went after you." Henry laughed, rubbing circles on her back.

"We were mad at him because be made all those waves!" Elizabeth laughed. "We told him to go away!"

"I remember that." Stevie said softly. "You got sunburned."

"We both did." Elizabeth's voice was soft. "You doing better?"

"Yeah." Stevie said curling against her father. "I'm super tired though."

"It takes a lot out of you." Elizabeth said knowingly.

"Just close your eyes, hon." Her father said, taking the phone from her hand and leaning back on the couch cushions.

"I don't want to hang up." Stevie said sleepily.

"I'll wait until you're asleep, sweetheart." Her mother said. "You close your eyes and I'll talk to Dad."

"Okay."

"I guess I better stay here." Henry said to her. "I wish I could meet you when your plane lands."

"No, it's better this way. I don't want anyone but you guys!"

"She's nearly asleep." Henry glanced down, running a hand over her cheek.

"Good." She sighed. "That was hard. How did you do it?"

"What?" He asked her confused.

"Calm me down. Help me through those panic attacks?"

"Oh, well, same way you just did. I don't know. I guess you just stay calm and talk."

"I thought it was bad on the other side!" She sighed. "Thank you. I'm sorry. I didn't understand how hard that was. It's horrible listening to her in so much distress."

"It is." He agreed. "But I'm just grateful you are here still. I'm grateful every single day." He told her. "Nothing else matters."

"You sound tired. I should let you sleep."

"No. I just want to listen to your voice. I don't even care what you say! Read me one of your reports or say the alphabet over and over, I just want to hear you, babe."

"I love you." She told him.

"See, how can you expect me to hang up when you say things like that."

"I'd say more but I hear an echo so I must still be on speaker." She laughed.

"I think she's listening to you even asleep." He shifted his arm. "I'd carry her back upstairs but I'm dead beat."

"Marines never get tired." She told him. "That's what you said."

"Well, if I remember right, that was on our honeymoon." He laughed, glancing at Stevie. "Remember that time I dragged you to that conference in France?"

"Oh, God! All I wanted to do was go to the beach and shop."

"And all I wanted to do was visit musty old churches and libraries!" He chuckled remembering. "Talk about star-crossed lovers!"

"Remember the taxi?"

"That's what I was thinking of!"

She smiled, tucking a leg underneath herself. She sat in the office of her plane as it flew through the dark night. "We kept arguing about where to go, and he drove us to that little cafe outside the city. It was beautiful!"

"You tried to tell him that he had taken us to the wrong place." He laughed remembering it.

"But he kept saying, 'No, this is where you must be. This is where you were intended to go!'"

"We sat by the river, and they kept bringing us course after course, which you ate!"

"It was so good! We stayed until the stars came out, remember and that little girl came out and played the violin, and we danced and danced!" She considered thoughtfully. "Why did we never go back?"

"You can't go back to a night like that!" He told her. "If we do, it won't be like we remembered. It will be small and dingy. I think it should be left as a perfect dream. Beside, we couldn't remember the name anyway."

"No!" She laughed. "For being sentimental you forget the craziest things! Don't you remember? It was called La Riviére de Saint Stefan des Reves."

"Saint Stephen! That's right! I forgot!" He shook his head, looking at Stephanie asleep beside him.

"You said she'd be our dreams, remember?"

"I do." His voice was soft. "I didn't really forget, I'm just tired."

"I bet." She said, her voice softer. "It's been a long day."

"Babe, you don't even know the half of it." He said sleepily. "I'm falling asleep."

"Good. I'll be home tomorrow. Just close your eyes, Henry. "She came back to us and we can figure the rest out."

"Hmmm. . ." He meant to agree with her but he was already asleep, dreaming of dancing with her in his arms beside a starlit river in a town so small and far away that no one could ever find them.

***Author's Note***

Thank you for the kind reviews! I agree wholeheartedly with thepuppiesinpink that I would gladly take any class that only required a five paragraph essay! I generally write several versions of the same chapter and then combine the parts I think are strongest. As a result sometimes details get cut which makes things unclear or leaves out important description. Henry was grading a midterm that included short answer - hence the five paragraph responses. In a different version, he despairs of his own idiocy for creating an exam that was such a pain to grade - twenty short answer questions and a long essay! It didn't move the plot so I cut it. I also had a version in which Stevie flips out at the restaurant and ends up in the ER but I liked the idea of her coming home better.

Also, the manager Martha, is modeled after my own GM back from my waiting tables day! She was a compassionate strong woman who drove one of my co-workers home herself after she'd learned her boyfriend had been killed in a car wreck. She also came to the hospital to see me when my father suffered a massive heart-attack (which he survived!) she was a good boss and a good person and just about the ONLY thing I miss from those grueling days!

Thanks for taking the time to read my humble offerings and tolerating my typos! I swear I check and check! I'm too shy to ask for a Beta - always to scared they'll say, "Good God! Your writing sucks!" So we live with my flaws instead.

P.S. I really have grown to love poor Stevie. The kid's been through the wringer!