DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I ONLY OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND THE FLACK KIDS.

THE FANTASTIC DOCTOR AUGUSTA 'GUS' BROUSSARD BELONGS TO THE EVEN MORE FANTASTIC MADISON BELLOWS. AND I AM HUMBLED TO BE BORROWING HER 'BABY'. I ONLY HOPE THAT I DO HER JUSTICE!

HUGE, HUGE, HUGE THANKS TO MADDY FOR ALL OF HER HELP! AND FOR PUTTING UP WITH AN ENDLESS AMOUNT OF QUESTIONS!

THANKS TO AJ (HEART2HANDGUN) FOR ALL OF HER SONG SUGGESTIONS!


Healing hands

"I will always protect you
Oh and I will even let you go
I'll spend the sweetest time holding you
And will let you grow

Your eyes
My eyes
Your smile
My smile
Your love
My gain
Your hurt
My pain
Your laugh
My joy
Every time, it's mine
You are my child

Don't ever be afraid
Don't ever be afraid
Cause I am here
And if you start to fear
Just close your eyes
And hear me say

Your love
My gain
Your hurt
My pain
Your laugh
My joy
Every time, it's mine
You are my child."
-My Child, Plumb


"Mommy?"

Kellan's tiny voice piped up from the back seat of her mother's gun metal grey Volvo station wagon, where she was secured tightly in her booster seat and had been, from the time they'd left their Ridgewood home until they reached lower Manhattan, completely silent as she listened to the Wiggles on the stereo and flipped through a Backyardigan's storybook.

"What baby sweets?" Sam asked, as leaned forward to turn down the volume on the stereo before casting a glance at her daughter through the rear view mirror.

The five year old looked deceivingly angelic in a blue and white gingham sundress with a thin white cardigan with little mother of pearl buttons down the front of it and white leather sandals on her feet. Her black hair -the bottom of which just barely skimmed her ear lobes- shimmering in the sunlight that cascaded through the window. To any outsider looking in, Kellan was the quintessential adorable, healthy and well behaved child. What they didn't know was that that cardigan sweater was in fact a necessity to hide the amount of horrible bite marks that she'd left all over her own arms. Over twenty in total, all hard enough to break the skin and require medical treatment. The numerous teeth impressions on her forearms alone almost identical to the still healing wounds that she'd left on her mother's skin. Damage done when trying to control Kellan in the midst of a frightening, out of control temper tantrum.

As if that wasn't enough, two days ago Kellan had once had hair down to the small of her back. Five minutes alone with a pair of scissors she'd somehow managed to procure while in her Aunt Lindsay's care while at the Messer house had found the five year old grabbing a hold of her own ponytail and giving herself a rather messy haircut. A horrified Lindsay -who'd been concerned when Kellan seemed too quiet for her own good while playing in the basement- had found her 'niece' sitting in the middle of the utility room floor, scissors in one hand, ponytail in the other.

A hair dresser had thankfully managed to at least do something presentable with the disaster that Kellan had left behind, styling it into a bob and giving the five year old full bangs that just touched the tops of her eyebrows and showed off her big blue eyes. But the incident had shaken Sam up considerably and caused a riff in her relationship with Lindsay. She'd been furious that considering Kellan's behaviour and state of mind, she'd been left alone with easy access to something as dangerous as scissors. Lindsay had said she was sorry profusely and felt horrible about what had happened, but the best friends had yet to come face to face since the incident, nor had Sam accepted or rejected the heartfelt and sincere apologies.

And it wasn't the loss of the hair itself that had shattered Sam. It had been her daughter's drastic cry for help.

"Well let's look at this from the bright side babe. We're lucky all she did with them scissors is cut her hair. Thank God she didn't stab herself or someone else, " Flack had said, when she'd brought up Kellan's incident at work the next day.

They'd managed to both sneak away from the job long enough to grab some beverages and a couple of hot dogs from the street vendor outside of the lab. A week after their initial appointment with Gus Broussard, they were making a legitimate effort to repair their relationship. They fought less and talked and listened more. They went out on dates as if they were a couple first starting out and had gotten the ball rolling on once a week therapy sessions with a therapist Gus had referred them to. As a family unit, they took the kids to Coney Island and Far Rockaway beach and for picnics in Central Park.

Yet they were still living in separate places.

Flack had spent the rest of the afternoon and the night at the house the day she'd been stricken with the horrific headache following their meeting with Gus. He'd spared no effort in taking care of her. He'd made sure that she'd gotten her rest and plenty of fluids and ate all of her portion of the dinner he'd prepared for them. Later in the evening, he'd drawn her a bubble bath and scattered candles around the bathroom. And then had had to fight desperately to prevent himself from joining her in that tub. He had, however, spent the night in the same bed with her. Their bed. And when she'd woken up the following morning, she'd blissfully pain free and enveloped in her husband's embrace. Finding herself securely tucked into his body with his big, strong arms wrapped around her from behind and his face buried in her hair.

She'd managed to wriggle out of his grasp and had turned around toe face him and watch him sleep. She'd tenderly trailed her fingertips over every inch of his face. Across his eyes and down the bridge of his nose, over his rough, unshaven cheeks and along his strong jaw line. Tracing the outline of his lips and watching as a soft smile curved his mouth. And then giggling as he grabbed a hold of her and yanked her tightly against her and claimed her mouth with his in a long, slow kiss.

It had been hard -extremely hard, in fact- to not allow a series of languid, lazy kisses and roving hands lead to something much more intense. But they had somehow managed to mutually put the brakes on things before they got out of control, and instead had laid in the silence on the room, bodies pressed tightly against each other, their foreheads touching and their eyes closed and their chests heaving from both desire and disappointment.

Flack had left before the kids had been brought back home in the afternoon. He'd made them breakfast that they ate in bed and they'd stayed wrapped in each other's arms and buried under all of the covers until he deemed it the appropriate time to leave. And somewhere in between the getting emotional reacquainting, he'd called the family doctor and expressed concerns about her headaches and had managed to get her in earlier appointment for an MRI. It was still more than a month away, but the physician had said if the pain ever got that intense again, to head straight to the nearest ER and to tell staff there that they were there on his orders.

While the headaches were a near daily occurrence now, Sam had succeeded on pushing her needs and her wants onto the back burner in favour of both working and taking care of her kids. The children needed her. They were completely and utterly dependant on their mother and she wasn't going to let them down. Her own horrific childhood and hopeless relationship with her own mother had made her determined to never, ever be like her mom was. And she didn't care what she had to do it to be the complete opposite of the crazy bitch who didn't deserve the title of mother.

"Are you going to send me away mommy? Is that why I have to go to see the doctor?" Kellan asked fearfully.

"You're going to see a therapist," Sam corrected gently. "Remember what daddy told you? About Doctor Broussard being an expert? About how she is going to try and help you feel better?"

Kellan nodded. "She's going to let me play with toys," she chirped. "Daddy told me that. That she's a really, really nice lady whose going to let me go in a room with lots of toys. 'Cause kids play better than they talk. And he said I don't have to talk if I don't want to. I can just play if I want."

"That's right," Sam confirmed, thankful that she and her husband were on the same page as far as explaining what was going to happen in the sessions and who Kellan was going to see and why. And that he'd obviously spent a great deal of time reading the same 'How to talk to your kids about therapy' brochure that Gus had given them both after their parent meeting. "Doctor Broussard is a play therapist," she told Kellan. "And she works with other little kids like you who are feeling sad or angry or who are having a hard time dealing with things at home or at school."

"But I don't have to talk if I don't want to," Kellan stressed. "Daddy said so."

"No, you don't have to talk. But if you feel like talking or Gus asks you a question, don't be scared to answer, okay? You're not going to get in trouble for talking about how you're feeling. You know that, right?"

Kellan nodded.

"Playtime will last about an hour," her mother explained. "And you'll be going there once a week in the summer and once every two weeks once you're in school. Mommy and daddy are taking you there because we know it's not easy to talk about how your feeling. And we want to try and help you not be so sad. And Gus is going to help us do that."

"I don't want to be sad anymore," Kellan said.

"I know. And mommy and daddy don't want you to be sad either," Sam told her. "Neither does Gus. We're all worried about you and we just want you to feel better soon. And she'll try really, really hard not to tell anyone else about what you say during playtime. She'll only tell someone if she's really, really concerned about you. Okay?"

"Okay…daddy said that it's patient confident…confident…he said some really, really big word."

"Patient confidentiality," Sam said with a grin. "And he's right. And it means that whatever you say during your playtime will stay between the two of you. She will only come and tell me or daddy if she's worried about you. And it's not a secret. Playtime. You can tell me or daddy about it but if you don't want to, that's okay. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I think so," Kellan responded. "Does it mean I'm bad?" she asked curiously.

"No," Sam quickly assured her. "It doesn't mean that at all. You're not bad, baby doll. You just…mommy knows that you're really upset that daddy doesn't live with us right now. And she knows that sometimes when people are upset…well sometimes when they're really upset they can't get the proper words out to explain what they're going through. That they do things to try and get people to realize what's going on inside of them."

"I don't mean to be a bad girl mommy," Kellan's voice quivered with emotion. "I don't mean to be naughty. It just happens. I don't mean to bite and kick and punch. I just do it. I don't know why. I don't mean to hurt you, mommy."

"I know," Sam cast a quick, reassuring smile into the back seat. "And I'm not angry at you. I'm not mad. And I am definitely not sending you away. Ever. I love you and I'd miss you if you went anywhere. I just want you to feel better. That's all. Why would you think I'd send you away?"

"'Cause grandma said that bad girls like me are sent far, far, far away to special places where all the bad girls belong," the five year old explained "And that the people there are really strict and that I wouldn't get to see you and daddy again. Ever. And I…" Kellan dissolved into tears. "I don't want to go far, far, far away mommy! I don't want to live somewhere else! I don't want to be away from you and daddy! Don't send me to the bad place. I'll be good. I'll be a good girl. I promise. I promise I'll be good."

Sam's heart shattered into a million pieces and tears threatened as she listened to her daughter sobbing in the backseat. This was definitely not a good start to the day. She had wanted to discuss Gus and therapy rationally and calmly, not get Kellan worked up into a near hysterical state. And she couldn't exactly stop the car in the middle of hectic mid-town traffic and climb into the back to offer comfort. She'd have to rely on a calm, soothing and understanding voice to help her daughter overcome her fears.

"Kellan…" she spoke softly. "Listen to me baby…can you listen to me?"

"Yes…mommy…" she managed through her sobs.

"I am not sending you away," Sam assured her. "I will never send you away. You are not bad. You're just feeling really sad and really angry and really frustrated about daddy not living with us anymore. And it's okay to feel that way, sweetie. It's okay and you just need a little help to get a handle on all of your feelings. Mommy and daddy love you and we'd never, ever get rid of you. We'd be so sad if you went away. We'd miss you terribly. You're our baby and nothing will ever change how much we love you."

"But you sent daddy away!" Kellan cried. "You sent him to live somewhere else!"

"Daddy left because…well because mommy and him weren't getting along and we were fighting too much and we didn't want you kids to see and hear that. We agreed that he'd leave so that things would be better for you guys. No one sent him away."

"Then tell him to come back!" the five year old wailed. "Tell daddy he has to come back! Right now!"

"Daddy will come back when it's the right time for him to come back, sweetie. Right now…well right now isn't a good time."

"Yes it is!" Kellan shrieked and kicked her legs angrily against the base of her booster seat. "It is a good time to tell him to come back! I want daddy back now!"

"We talked about this already baby girl. Daddy talked about this with you too."

"He hates me!" she cried. "That's why he doesn't want to come back! He hates me!"

"No…your daddy loves you. He loves you so very, very much, Kellan. He could never hate you."

"Do you hate daddy?"

Sam shook her head. "I love your daddy very much. We just can't live together right now. That's all. It's not about us hating each other and it certainly isn't about him hating you. You're his baby sweets. He could never hate you."

"He does!" Kellan insisted. "'Cause I'm bad! Grandma said so!"

"You are not bad," Sam told her. "I don't care what your grandma says. You are not bad and no one hates you and no one is sending you away. Everything is going to be okay. You're going to feel better soon and daddy and mommy and Gus are going to help you. Okay?"

"Okay…." Kellan sniffled and wiped her eyes and nose on the sleeve of her sweater. "Is daddy going to be there too?" she asked hopefully.

"Daddy's working today," Sam replied. "He can't come with us."

"Daddy always has to work!" the five year old cried. "He's always at work!"

"Well today he's in court trying to help put a bad guy away," her mother told her. "And it's very, very, very important that he helps."

"I'm very, very, very important too," Kellan muttered.

"Of course you are, sweetie. And daddy would be here if he could. It's just that…well if this bad guy doesn't go to jail he could hurt other people and daddy can't let that happen. It's his job, remember? To make sure bad people don't hurt good people?"

"So that meanies don't hurt little kids like me," Kellan said.

"Exactly. So that's why daddy couldn't come with us today. He wants to make sure that the bad guy goes away for a long, long time. So that he doesn't hurt anyone else. He'll come to the next appointment with Gus."

"You promise?" the five year old asked.

"I promise," Sam replied.

"Okay…" Kellan sighed, and then lapsed into silence as she once again concentrated on her storybook. "Mommy?" she piped up several minutes later.

"What baby?"

"If I do good today can we go for ice cream afterwards?" the five year old asked.

"You know what? You don't have to be anything other than yourself today," Sam responded. "This isn't a test or anything. Gus just wants you to be Kellan. She doesn't expect you to be anything other than that. And neither do I. And if you don't want to do anything other than play, then that's what you do. Alright?"

Kellan nodded energetically. "You're sad too, right mommy? 'Cause daddy isn't living with us right now?"

"Of course I'm sad," Sam admitted. "I miss daddy. A lot."

"Well if you're feeling sad just like me, maybe you can go to play therapy too!" her daughter chirped. "Maybe you can get a therapist too and you can play with lots and lots of toys until you feel better. Until you're not sad anymore!"

Her mother smiled and cast a glance over her shoulder. "You know what? I think that sounds like a great idea."

"Me too!" Kellan declared.

Sam sighed and turned her full attention back to the road.

And wished that the answer to every problem was that simple.


They were half an hour early for the two o'clock appointment, and after finding the underground garage at Women's and Children's completely full, Sam instead had driven around the block and parked at the nearest city owned and operated lot. After unbuckling Kellan from her booster seat and locking the vehicle behind them -and making sure that Sam was in possession of the Backyardigans storybook 'In case Doctor Gus wanted to read me a cool story' her daughter had reasoned, and that Holly Hobby was tucked firmly under Kellan's arm- the two headed hand in hand out of the lot and down the busy sidewalk. They stopped at a bodega where Sam bought can of iced tea for herself and a small carton of chocolate milk and a package of gummy bears for Kellan before continuing on towards their destination.

"I hope that Doctor Gus has crayons and colouring books!" Kellan exclaimed, as she held on tightly to her mother's hand and skipped along happily as they crossed the street towards the hospital. "You think that she has crayons and colouring books, mommy?"

"I'm sure she does," Sam said, her purse dangling from her elbow as she reached up with her right hand to slip her sunglasses from her forehead to her face. "I'm sure she has lots of really cool things you can play with. I think I saw a dollhouse when Gus showed daddy and I the room."

"A dollhouse like mine?" Kellan's entire face lit up.

"Something like yours," her mother told her. "And she has puppets and Play Doh and a sand table you can play in."

"Like a sandbox but with legs?" Kellan asked.

Sam nodded.

"Like at school? I like the sandbox at school. It has legs too. But I like the water table better. Does she have a water table too? The water table is lots of fun. It's my favourite thing to play with at school. Does Doctor Gus have a water table?"

"I don't know. I didn't see one but that doesn't mean she doesn't have one. We'll have to ask her. Do you want to sit down out front and have your milk and some of your gummi bears?" she asked, looking down at her daughter. "We're pretty early so we have lots of time to hang out for bit."

"Yeah…that's cool!" Kellan exclaimed. "Maybe we can…" her eyes suddenly widened and a massive smile spread from ear to ear.

Sam looked in the direction of the front steps of the hospital. Feeling her own smile of both relief and happiness curving her lips as a very handsome man stood at the bottom of the stairs awaiting their arrival. Looking strong and fit in a pair of khaki cargo style shorts, Adidas runners and a burnt orange polo shirt that fit snug around the biceps. A backwards Mets cap on his recently shorn hair.

"DADDY!" Kellan cried ecstatically, and dropping her mother's hand, ran full speed ahead down the sidewalk, Holly Hobby dangling from her hand as she raced towards her father with her arms stretched wide. "DADDY!" she shrieked, and launched herself into the waiting arms.

"Hey, baby sweets!" Flack effortlessly scooped his daughter's tiny body up into his arms and showered her face with kiss. "Surprised?"

She nodded energetically, her hair bobbing up and down. "I missed you daddy!" she shrieked happily, and tossed both arms around his neck and squeezed tightly. "Mommy said that you weren't going to come today! That you had to help but a bad guy away for a long time so he couldn't hurt anymore good people and little kids like me."

"Well something came up and now I don't have to help out until tomorrow," her father told her. "So I thought I'd come here and meet up with two of my three favourite girls. Is that okay with you?"

"Of course it is!" Kellan exclaimed. "I'm happy you're here daddy! I missed you!"

"I missed you too," Flack told her, and kissed her cheek once more before shifting her to his right side, her legs locking securely around his torso. "Whitmore asked the judge if my testimony could be put off until tomorrow," he explained to Sam as she finally caught up to them. "Called it 'compassionate reasons'. I figured you wouldn't mind me tagging along. Thought you'd like the company."

"You thought right," Sam said with a smile, and allowed him to lean down and kiss her chastely. They'd been refraining from even the smallest displays of affection around the kids when they went anywhere together as a family, but it was getting harder and harder not to do something. There were simply too many intense feelings to ignore.

"Look at your hair daddy!" Kellan giggled as she yanked off his baseball cap. "You don't have any!"

"Just a little," he chuckled, then taking her hand, laid it on the top of his head. "Feel that?" he asked. "Feels cool, huh?"

"Like a porcupine!" Kellan cried, and laughed heartily.

"Daddy had an incident last night," Flack told her, as he grabbed a hold of his hand and placed it sideways on Kellan's head. "A bad guy threw something at him and it got in his hair and he had to shave it off."

"What kind of something?" Sam asked, as he laid a hand on the small of her back and they headed, as a family, up the front stairs of the hospital.

"Open bottle of peroxide," he replied. "Didn't go in my eyes or anything thank God, but it bleached out clump of my hairs. So I figured the army look was better than looking like a skunk. And look at you…" Flack slipped his hand up her back and over her neck and laid his hand on the back of her head. Admiring her new hair style. A cut inspired by the way the singer Rihanna had worn it years back. Short on the one side and at the back and long on the other side. Only Sam's tresses had been dyed a vibrant, shimmering red. "Looks really nice baby," he praised. "I really like it."

"For real?" she asked, looking up at him doubtfully.

"Really," he replied, and gave a sincere smile. "You make a pretty hot looking red head."

"I was going to go blond, but I distinctly remembered how you didn't like me in that blond, Marilyn Monroe wig I wore that day Mac finally caught up to Suspect X."

Flack grimaced at the memory. "Yeah…don't get me wrong. You're a beautiful woman no matter what. But blond? That wasn't…well that just wasn't right."

"Well you may have not liked me as a blond, but I liked you as a department of parks worker," she teased, and elbowed him in the side playfully as he gave a sheepish grin.

"Daddy?" Kellan spoke up. "You're sad right? 'Cause you're not living with us?"

"Of course I'm sad," Flack told her. "I miss you guys."

"Well if you're sad and mommy's sad then maybe you can be sad together and then you go both go and ask Doctor Gus if you can play with all of her toys. 'Cause playing with toys makes things all better. It makes you talk about your feelings. And if you and mommy go and play with all the toys than maybe you guys will talk and not yell so much. And if you don't get mad and don't yell, then you can come back and live with us right away!"

"I don't know if Doctor Gus will let us play with her toys," Flack said, clearing his throat noisily in an attempt to hide the emotion that choked at him.

"She lets lots of people play with her toys!" Kellan exclaimed. "If you ask her nicely I bet she'll let you play with them! Maybe she will even let you play in the sand table. You know what a sand table is daddy? It's a sand box with legs!"

"Get outta here," he said with a grin.

"It is!" his daughter nodded adamantly. "It's a sand box with legs like the one that we had in kinnergarden."

"Kindergarten," Sam corrected gently.

"That's what I said mommy. Kinnergarden. That's what it's like daddy. And it's a lot of fun. Maybe Doctor Gus will let you play in the sand box and it will make you feel better. Or maybe she'll let you colour or play with the puppets. Puppets are cool, too. The more you play, the happier you'll be."

"Daddy doesn't get to play enough, does he," Flack stated, as he bent down to deposit Kellan on a bench outside of the hospital's front entrance.

"Nope," she shook her head. "You work too much. And too much work makes you grumpy and mean, daddy."

"Well I don't want to be grumpy or mean," Flack said, and took a seat beside her. "So maybe I should play more."

"Mommy too!" Kellan exclaimed. "Maybe you guys can play together."

"Now that's daddy's favourite kind of playing," Flack muttered and then received another elbow to his side and a stern look from his wife as she plopped down on the bench beside him. "So…you want to tell me what made you go Edward Scissorhands on your hair?" he asked Kellan, as Sam opened up the carton of chocolate milk and slipped a straw into it before leaning across him to hand the drink to their daughter.

Tipping her head to the side, Kellan stared at him, blue eyes narrowed, forehead furrowed. Clearly perplexed. A look that she, and her sister, had inherited directly from him.

"What made you take a pair of scissors to your ponytail," Flack clarified.

"I don't know…" Kellan shrugged and sipped at her milk.

"You must know why you did it," he said. "You didn't just do it for no reason. Did you do it 'cause you were mad? Did Auntie Linds do something that upset you?"

The five year old shook her head.

"Did Kallison or Amanda or Dan-Dan do something to make you made?" Flack tried again. "Did they pick on your or say mean things to you? Did they ignore you or not let you play with them?"

"I just did it," Kellan told him with a shrug. "I don't know why I did it. I just did."

"Were you sad about something?" he asked, as Sam stayed silent beside him and sipped at her iced tea.

"I don't know…" the little girl replied.

"Look Kellan…I know you're really sad that I'm not living with you guys. And I'm sad about it too. So is mommy. But we don't want you to….we don't want you to be doing stuff like that to yourself, okay? Stuff like that scares us and we're worried about you. So if there's something that's really bugging you, I want you to tell me or mommy before you do something like that again. Okay?"

"Okay…" she gave a small nod. "Don't be mad at me daddy," she whispered, her lower lip wobbling and tears pooling in her eyes.

"Kellan…I'm not…"

"If you get mad at me than you'll hate me. If you get mad you won't come and visit anymore. You won't let me stay overnight at your place. And if you get mad than you won't ever come home. And then mommy will hate me for being a bad girl!"

"Hey…" Flack took her tiny face in both of his hands and forced her to look up at him. "I am not mad at you, baby sweets. I'm just worried about you, okay? That's all. Just worried. And I could never, ever hate you. And neither could mommy. And you're not a bad girl."

"But grandma said I was! She said that I was a bad girl and that's why you left!"

He shook his head. "You are not a bad girl and that is not why I left. I left because mommy and I were fighting all the time and we didn't like each other very much. And we didn't want you or Kallison or Dawson hearing us being mean to each other. I didn't leave 'cause you're bad or 'cause I hate you or 'cause I don't love you. And your grandmother…" he sighed heavily. "Well your grandmother is a wicked witch and I don't think you should be going to visit her anymore."

"But what about grandpa?" Kellan asked. "That means I won't get to see grandpa anymore!"

"Grandpa can come over to the house to visit. He's more than capable of coming there," Flack told her. "I just don't…you're not going to go and see grandma anymore. Ever. And I'm going to tell her that too. Your grandma and I are going to have a really nice, long chat."

"But I won't ever have to see her again?" Kellan inquired. "Ever, ever?"

"Ever ever," Flack promised.

"Good…" Kellan gave a heavy sigh of relief. "'Cause she's a mean old bitch."

Sam nearly spit a mouthful of iced tea all of herself. "Kellan…" she coughed and sputtered noisily. "That's not a nice thing to say."

"I know…but it's true. She is. And daddy said that it isn't mean to call someone nasty names when it's true. Just that if we call someone nasty names like that, do it behind their back so you don't punched in the face."

Sam glared at her husband.

"Okay…that is not what I said," Flack defended himself. "I said that it wasn't nice to say things like that about anyone and that you'd get punched in the face if you did."

"No daddy," Kellan shook her head vigorously. "That's not what you said. It's not good to tell lies. You said that it wasn't mean to call someone nasty names if it was true. And that if I called someone a bad name, not to do it to their face or I'd get punched out. That's what you said, daddy."

Flack sighed heavily and biting his bottom lip, shook his head.

"Busted," Sam laughed. "By a five year old."

"I didn't think she'd actually remember all of that," he said.

"She's a sponge Don. She's been like that since she was a toddler. Everything bad you've ever said she's always repeated. You really think you'd have learned your lesson by now."

"I think I need to get some kind of manual. Parenting for Dummies. Or take some kind of 'An Idiot's Guide to Be a Better Daddy' course or something."

Sam shook her head and rubbed his back softly. "You don't need anything like that," she said. "You just need…."

"Not to talk so much," he concluded. "Not to open my mouth for the sake of hearing my own voice."

She just smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Okay….so when it comes to being a daddy, I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed. I say some pretty dumb things sometimes."

"Yeah…" Kellan agreed. "But you make up for it with hugs and kisses daddy."

Both Sam and Flack's eyes widened as they looked over at their daughter, taken back by her honest and heartfelt words.

"And with your cupcakes and banana pancakes," the five year old added quickly.

Flack chuckled, and wrapping one arm around his daughter and the other arm around his wife, he gathered them into his sides. Dropping a kiss to Kellan's hair, he turned to his wife and pressed his lips against her temple before resting his chin on the top of her head.

One step closer,he thought, and looked in the direction of the hospital front entrance. One step closer to this nightmare being over.

And to me taking back my life.


The playroom was spacious and cheerfully decorated. White walls were lined with posters from Disney movies and masterpieces that had been created over the months and years by other children. Brightly coloured scribbles, sheets of paper smeared with fingerpaints, collages made from stickers and images cut from magazines and newspapers, and artfully done drawings and water colour paintings. Toys of various shapes, sizes and genres neatly took up residence on several wooden bookshelves that were painted in primary colours. Art easels with fresh paper and paintbrushes and paints stood at ready, as did a towering five floor, fully 'stocked' dollhouse in one corner and a sand table in the other. A simple wooden adult sized chair sat alongside of a white wood children's table with small blue chairs placed neatly around it. The floor in the middle of the room was lined with multicoloured sponge alphabet and number 'tiles' that fit together like a giant jigsaw puzzle. The exact same tiles that decorated all three of the kids' rooms at home.

"Isn't that cool, Kellan?" Flack asked his daughter, as he nodded down at the floor. "Just like your room. That's pretty neat, huh?"

She nodded. Her blue eyes were wide and terrified. Nervous. The five year old that had been bubbly and talkative while sitting outside with her parents and while riding the elevator to the fourth floor and who'd practically skipped down the hallway towards the clinic, had abruptly vanished the second they'd stepped foot into the waiting room. Her mouth had instantly clamped shut and no matter how hard her parents tried or how much they encouraged and prodded, she hadn't uttered a word since. She'd shown no interest in the toys in the waiting room and refused to play with the other kids. She had promptly climbed into her father's lap the moment he sat down and had kept one tiny arm locked around her doll and the other wrapped tightly around his neck and her head on his shoulder.

And when her name had been called and she'd been told that either mommy or daddy could go and help her get comfy in the playroom while the other talked to Doctor Gus before her playtime, Kellan had announced that she wanted daddy to come with her. So he could check the room for monsters and get rid of them for her. Sam in turn went to talk to the therapist about what the session would entail. Both parents would watch and listen from behind one way glass, but had been told not to tell Kellan that they'd be observing. In fear that she would shut down completey and all trust in Gus would be destroyed even before it had a chance to get off the ground.

"This place is neat, huh?" Flack asked his daughter and ran a hand over her hair. "There's lot of cool toys here. You see anything you want to play with?"

Kellan shook her head and tightened the one armed hold she had around his leg. Holly Hobby was tucked under her other arm and her thumb was firmly planted in her mouth. A habit she hadn't practiced since she was a toddler.

"There must be something here you like," Flack said. "You want to go and play at the sand table?"

Kellan shook her head yet again.

"What about the dollhouse?" he tried again. "You love your dollhouse at home. You wanna go over and check it out?"

Another vigorous shake of black hair.

"Okay…well there's some fingerpaints if you want to do that," her father encouraged. "And I saw a huge bucket of crayons and markers on the table and I bet if we look around we'll find some paper. You can draw some pictures to take home? Make something for daddy's apartment so he can put it on the fridge with all yours and Kallie's drawings? Or something he can put on his desk at work? You wanna do that?"

"No daddy," Kellan whispered as she plucked her thumb from her mouth. "I don't want to do anything. I want to go home. Can you take me home daddy?"

"Why would you want to go home?" he asked. "Look at all these toys. More toys here than at home. You and Doctor Gus are going to have an awesome time."

"I'm scared daddy…" Kellan moaned. "My tummy hurts."

"Come here…" Flack implored, and taking a seat in the big chair, picked Kellan up and settled her in his lap. "There's nothing for you to be scared about," he assured her, as he curled his arms around her tiny body and kissed her cheek. "Doctor Gus is really, really nice. Mommy and I wouldn't bring you here if she wasn't. And remember what I told you? About how you don't have to talk if you don't want to?"

Kellan nodded.

"If you just want to sit and colour, Doctor Gus will understand. She's not going to force you to do anything. No one is. And mommy and I will be waiting outside for you, okay?"

"You can't stay in here and play with me daddy?"

"This playtime for you and Doctor Gus," Flack told her. "After we'll go somewhere and we'll play together. Sound good?"

"Can we go to the zoo?" Kellan asked.

"Sure…we'll go and get Dawson and Kallison from Auntie Mari's and…"

"No daddy. Not them. Just us. Me and you and mommy."

"Tell you what…while you're busy with Doctor Gus, mommy and I will talk about going to the zoo, alright?"

"And ice cream," Kellan said. "Mommy said in the car that we could go and get ice cream later."

"Ice cream too," he promised, and kissed the side of her head.

"But you'll come and rescue me, right daddy? If I get too scared and upset?"

"Of course I will, baby sweets," he said and ran a hand over her hair.

The door to the playroom clicked open softly and two sets of identical blue eyes zeroed in on Gus, clad in a chocolate brown pantsuit and a pale yellow blouse under her jacket, as she stood in the doorway.

"Is there a Kellan Flack in here?" she asked playfully, a gentle smile gracing her lips.

Kellan cautiously raised her hand.

"Your mommy and daddy told me about how pretty you were," Gus drawled, as she closed the door softly behind her and journeyed into the room. "I wasn't expecting to walk in here and find a princess."

Kellan managed a shaky, yet brave smile.

"I'm Doctor Broussard," Gus introduced herself as she crouched down in front of the table. "You're here to have a play date with me. Do you know why you're here Kellan?"

She nodded. "'Cause I'm deprest," she answered simply. Those three words causing tears to brim in her stoic father's eyes and a lump of emotion to form in his throat.

"And because your mommy and daddy are worried about you," Gus told her. "They love you very, very, very much. You know that, right?"

"I know…I don't want to be deprest anymore Doctor Gussie."

Gus blinked, taken back by the term of endearment bestowed upon her. "Well, you see all of the toys around you?"

Kellan glanced around the room and nodded.

"All of these toys are going to help me to help you feel better," Gus told her.

"I don't feel like talking," the five year old said.

"That's okay. You don't need to talk. Just if you have something you want to tell me, you can. Okay?"

Kellan nodded.

"Your mommy said that you really like these," Gus reached held out her right hand, in which was the unopened package of gummy bears. "And that they might make you feel a little better."

"I'm nervous," the little girl admitted ad accepted the bag of candy.

"That's okay," Gus assured her. "It's okay to be nervous, sweetheart. And your mommy also told me that you like to colour."

Kellan nodded.

"Well I have lots and lots of crayons and markers," the therapist said, and reaching for a blue plastic pail sitting in the middle of the table, set them down in front of the five year old. "And I have a very, very special colouring book just for you," she added, and sat the small book in her left hand on the table. Entitled 'A Child's First Book About Therapy'.

"I don't have that colouring book," Kellan said, and shifted in her father's lap in order to get a better look. "I got lots of Barbie and Dora and My Little Pony ones but not one like that. Can I take it home with me?"

"Sure," Gus chirped. "Now who's this handsome fellow with you?" she asked, giving Flack a wink. "Is this your boyfriend?"

"No," Kellan giggled.

"Brother?" Gus tried again.

"No," the five year old shook her head.

"Hmmm…your uncle?"

"No silly!" Kellan giggled even louder. "This is daddy!"

"And what's your daddy's name?" Gus inquired, using small talk to ease the child's nerves.

"Donald," Kellan answered. "You know, like Donald Duck? But I call him daddy and mommy calls him Don or Donnie. And you know what everybody else calls him?"

"What's that?" asked Gus.

"They call him Flack. That's our last name. I don't know why they call him that. It's stupid if you ask me. Daddy's a policeman. A defective. Did you know that?"

"A detective," Gus corrected gently. "And yeah…your mommy told me that. What's your mommy's name?"

"Samantha…but I just call her mommy. Daddy says it's not nice when little kids call their mommies and daddies by their first names. That it's rude. Daddy was s'pose to be in this place called court today. To help put a bad guy in jail. But they said that he didn't have to come until tomorrow to do that. So that he could come here today instead. With me."

"And I bet that made you really happy," Gus commented.

Kellan nodded energetically. "Yeah…'cause I love my daddy and I miss him. He doesn't live with us right now…but I don't want to talk about that," she added quickly. "'Cause it makes me deprest."

"Well how about we just play for a while?" Gus suggested. "Just the two of us. Does that sound okay?"

"I guess…" Kellan bit at her bottom lip nervously. "But if I get scared daddy can come and rescue me, right?"

"Absolutely," Gus assured her, then offered a helping hand as Kellan wriggled off of her father's lap. "Why don't you find something you like to play with or colour some pictures and I'll walk your daddy out, okay?"

Kellan sighed heavily. "I guess so…." she said, then stood nervously wringing her hands together as she watched the therapist and her father walk towards the door. "Don't leave daddy!" she called. "Please don't leave!"

"I'll be out there when you're finished," Flack promised her. His heart heavy, his nerves on edge.

"She's in good hands," Gus assured him, as she pulled open the door. "She's going to be just fine."

He took in a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly.

"And you're going to be fine, too," the therapist promised. "I know this is hard. And if she decides to talk, some of the things might be hard for you to hear. But this is for the best. For all of you."

"I know…" Flack said. "I just never…how'd this ever happen? How did things get this far out of control? How'd we get to the point of our kids needing therapy? How'd we ever screw up that bad?"

"The important thing is that Kellan is here and you and your wife are here for her. That's what is the most important thing."

"Just…just take care of her, okay? She's my baby and seeing her like this…"

"She'll be okay, daddy…" Gus promised.

He gave a solemn nod and stepped out of the room.

The weight on his heart nearly unbearable as the door closed behind him. Cutting off all contact to one of his three miracles.


Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! And even just lurking! I appreciate all of the love and support and I can't thank you enough for all of your kind words and awesome reviews! I am thoroughly enjoying writing for you guys! And for myself, of course!

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