Hester Frump pushed her way through the people in the emergency room waiting area.

"Morticia Frump!" She said to the nurse before she realized her mistake. "I mean Addams, Morticia Addams."

"Oh yes! You're her mother?"

"Yes, yes I am!"

"Right this way Mrs. Frump."

They hadn't told her anything on the phone except that Morticia was taken to the hospital. Naturally, that made Hester a nervous wreck. She began asking all the questions that plagued her during the time between the phone call and her arrival.

"What's wrong with her? Did something happen to the baby? Is my daughter going to be alright? Did her husband come with her? Did she.."

"Please, Mrs….."

"Frump"

"Mrs. Frump, I'm sorry but I can't answer any of your questions. You'll have to wait and talk to the doctor."

Hester nodded as she dutifully followed the nurse down the sterilized hallway, her heels clicking elegantly against the bright linoleum floor. At last they stopped in front of a room and the nurse gave a courteous knock before opening the door.

"Mrs. Addams, your mother is here."

Hester could see Morticia's statuesque figure sitting in the hospital bed. The white linens starkly contrasted her ebony hair, and the thin blue gown swallowed her slender frame. The nurse held the door open so Hester could enter. Morticia's eyes never left her lap, it was as if she was transfixed on her interlaced fingers. Hester cautiously approached the bedside.

"Morticia?"

As she got closer to her daughter's still form, she reached out to stroke the dark tresses that cascaded over her shoulders. The action seemed to surprise Morticia, she looked up suddenly her eyes wide. When she recognized her mother's face, her eyes fell back to her clasped hands. Hester decided not to be offended as she noticed the dark bruises that covered her daughter's exposed flesh.

"My God! Child, what happened to you?"

Morticia remained silent. Hester pulled a chair beside the bed, and placed her hand over her daughter's. Morticia's skin was cold to the touch making Hester's maternal instincts go into overdrive.

"You're freezing!" Hester reached to pull up the extra blanket from the foot of the bed. As she wrapped Morticia up, she noticed that her daughter's breath was shallow, and every little action seemed strenuous. Unsure of what else to do, Hester pushed the call button for the nurse.

A soft knock on the door was followed by the entrance of Morticia's doctor.

"Mrs. Frump, I'm.."

"Something's wrong with Morticia! She's cold and her breath is shallow."

"Your daughter is in shock, Mrs. Frump. She lost a lot of blood during the miscarriage." The doctor was still talking but Hester heard nothing after that devastating word.

"Mrs. Frump?" he asked drawing her out of her reverie.

"I'm sorry, did I hear you correctly? Did you say miscarriage?"

"Yes, I did."

Hester squeezed Morticia's clammy hands, not surprised at the lack of response.

"Forgive me, I thought you had been informed. Mrs. Addams suffered a miscarriage after a severe trauma to her abdomen."

Tears were forming in Hester's eyes as she stared at her silent daughter.

"What kind of trauma?"

"We aren't certain, Mrs. Addams hasn't said a word since she arrived. It looks like it was the result of domestic violence since she has bruises that correspond with such an attack."

Hester felt sick to her stomach, flashes of Balthazar's rage tormenting her memory.

"She is also suffering from a couple of broken ribs, a twisted knee, and a sprained ankle. We are trying to make her as comfortable as possible."

Hester couldn't speak, her heart climbing to her throat as she thought of the suffering her youngest child had endured. To make it worse, guilt plagued her as she realized she was the one who forced Morticia into Balthazar's arms. All she had wanted was to see her daughters happily married and provided for. Instead, she watched as both their marriages collapsed. As she thought of Balthazar hurting her beloved daughter, she was overwhelmed with sorrow over what her actions had caused.

"Once we get her vitals back to normal, she is free to be discharged to your care."

Again, Hester stroked the raven tresses of her youngest daughter. She hoped the tender action would offer some comfort, unaware that Gomez had tried the same tactic a few hours before. Morticia suddenly looked up at her mother, anxiously hoping the hand caressing her belonged to her darling Gomez. When the concerned face of her mother was all she saw, Morticia retreated into the dark recesses of her grieving mind. Hester watched as the subtle light appeared in the beautiful sapphire eyes before her, then vanished as quickly as it came.

Another two hours passed before Morticia was released. Not a single word passed over her lips. Hester tried countless times to get her daughter to talk, none of them worked. With loving arms, Hester helped Morticia out of the car. She could sense the pain Morticia suffered with each breath, and she knew her ribs were not the only thing to blame. Hester tried to keep her fingers around Morticia's upper arm so she wouldn't hurt her, but still her daughter winced.

"I'm sorry, Morticia dear. Did I hurt you?"

Morticia shook her head and leaned further into Hester's side. The little movement warmed Hester's heart making her even more protective over her injured child. As soon as they entered the house, Hester started treating Morticia like she was a sick toddler.

"Let's get you upstairs, and into some warm nightclothes. Are you hungry? I can make you some nice eye of newt soup, or perhaps you'd like some hopping eggs?"

Morticia shook her head.

"How about some cold yak? I know you like that."

Again, she shook her head. Hester was surprised when Morticia suddenly stopped.

"What's wrong, dear?"

Hester followed Morticia's petrified stare to the staircase. A sense of dread filled her mind, a sign not to question Morticia's uneasiness.

"You know dear, you should stay down here. The guest bedroom has its own bathroom and you'll be close to the kitchen so I can keep an eye on you."

A tear was sliding down Morticia's cheek as she nodded. Hester led the way, only leaving Morticia's side to get her a flannel nightgown. Gently Hester helped Morticia undress, her eyes locking on the dark bruises covering her skin. She didn't want to make Morticia uncomfortable by being obvious with her stare, so she tried to steal glances as she slipped the nightgown over her head. Just as her ebony locks emerged to cascade down her back, a series of hysteric knocks were pounded on the front door.

"Who in the world!?"

Hester kissed Morticia's forehead and went to stop the incessant pounding. Standing behind the door was an awful looking Gomez.

"Gomez?"

"Morticia? Is Morticia here?"

Hester didn't know how to handle his anxious questioning.

"Yes, she's resting."

"Please, Mrs. Frump. Let me see her."

"I appreciate your concern Gomez, but Morticia is not in any state to receive visitors."

"I need to see her, you don't understand!"

"Gomez! I said no! My daughter is hurt and I will not allow anyone to disrupt her time to heal. It is sweet that you are concerned, but you are no longer family so you will just have to send her a card like everyone else."

Gomez stared at her as her words sank in. His frantic demeanor was replaced by an overwhelming sadness. In a whisper, he began to plea.

"Please, I need to see Morticia."

Although she felt compelled to give in, Hester remained resilient.

"No, Gomez."

"Madame, I assure you that if you do not let me see Morticia this instant, I will plague your house with a determination never before seen!"

"Do what you wish Gomez, but the answer is still no."

Hester was starting to close the door but his hand pushed back, unable to let her prevent him from seeing his love.

"Mrs. Frump.."

A soft voice interrupted him.

"Gomez?"

Hester turned to see Morticia standing in the hallway. Gomez pushed the door open, his eyes glued to Morticia.

"Querida!"

He ran to her, scooping her into his arms.

"Be careful! Her ribs!" Hester cried as she watched Gomez squeeze Morticia in a tight embrace.

All other warnings died in her mouth as she watched their exchange. Gomez was whispering in Morticia's ear, and to Hester's surprise Morticia was whispering back. Tears rolled down her daughter's face as her hands clutched greedily at Gomez's clothes until she had fistfuls of fabric trapped in her palms. She was trying to understand what was happening when all of the sudden Gomez's eyes closed and he started to cry. A sob escaped Morticia as Gomez kissed her cheek and ran his fingers over her hair. That's when Hester realized why there was desperation in Gomez's need to see Morticia, and why her daughter didn't speak a word until he arrived. Silently, she closed the door and walked up the stairs so Morticia could mourn with the father of her lost child.