A/N: Dear Guest, I'm sorry I've caused you pain, but you see - there's practically no way to make these two happy, save for some small moments. And sadly, this is yet another depressing one, but I shall try to work on something a bit more positive in the future. Until then - a moment or two from 1x04.
When she regains consciousness, she doesn't know how much time has passed since she was assaulted. Her head hurts terribly; her ears are ringing, and the cold has seeped from the stone floor into her bones, making her shiver as she slowly tries to get up. Sitting up, she takes a moment to cling to her knees, to let out a sob - not because she's in pain, but rather because they're gone. The innocent little children, taken from under her protection. She covers her face, winces when her fingers touch the bruise that is forming around her eye; then she gets up, dizzy still, keeping a hand on the wall to steady herself.
Shaky steps bring her to the room where the bigger boys sleep. She reaches out to touch the eldest gingerly, shaking him awake with soft whispers, telling him to get dressed and run to the police station. Inspector Reid will have to be told, and again she hangs her head in shame, feeling terrible for having disappointed him. He had put her in charge of the children's safety and she had miserably failed him; a thought which pained her infinitely more than the injury she had sustained. Her fingers are still shaking when she sits down to wait for the police; shaking so much that she can barely fill her glass, spilling drops left and right. When the liquor passes her lips, the warmth she feels gives her back some strength. The dim grey light of the early morning hours is seeping through the windows already, and once again she wonders how much time she has spent blacked out; how much time whoever took the children has already had and how far he might have taken them already. Feeling a heavy lump form in the pit of her stomach, she quickly fills her glass again, taking a desperate gulp. How could she have let this happen?
A little out of balance still, she makes her way towards the laundry room, and goes back to work, trying to behave as if nothing has happened. Ironing and folding the white linens has a calming effect, and her hands stop shaking just before Inspector Reid appears in the door. Her motions halt, but she keeps her eyes focused on her work until he calls her name. Then, reluctantly, she lets him see her face. Ashamed about the bruises, ashamed that she has been unable to protect the children, it's hard to look him in the eye. Words pass between them, but she lets out the breath she's been holding only when he leaves.
.
When he spots the dark bruises marring her face, his heart skips a beat. He is well aware that they are his fault; he has put her in danger, has put her directly into harm's way, even. Yet again he has risked the life of someone dear to him and the sight of her cuts him deep. Words of apology spill over his lips and he curls his fingers more tightly around the rim of his hat; they are itching to reach out, to reach for her pain and take it from her. It would be highly inappropriate, he knows, and so he simply accepts her plea, prepared to let his anger and guilt fuel his work.
"Find the children; please, Inspector."