AN – I hope this chapter answers some questions that my reviews have asked. If you'd like to know how Jim and Trix cope with something particular, please ask and I'll try to incorporate it into the story. (Although they migh not be in that hole much longer...Ops not supose to give that away!) Once again thank you to everyone who leaves a review.

I've returned to full time work as my baby is now at school so my posts might get slower. Don't worry I have plans to finish everything.

'It hurts,' Trixie wailed, pushing her five day old son away.

'That's because,' Jim attempted to stay calm above the increasing wails of his child, 'you're nipples are cracked and bleeding. Without milk, Jamie will die, Trix. You have to feed him.'

'I can't,' the tears streamed down her face. Misery in every breath, 'I just can't' she sobbed. Turning away so she couldn't see the distress on either Jim or Jamie faces, Trixie curled into a ball of shear desolation.

'Trix,' Jim pleaded, hanging on to his temper by a thread, 'you're going to burst if you don't let Jamie feed. I bet you feel so full…'

'Don't make me, Jim,' she muttered, the words soft enough as to be barely audible.

Swearing under his breath, something he rarely did, Jim racked his mind for alternatives. If they could somehow get the milk out, he'd find a way to feed his son. He didn't blame Trixie. One look at her breasts and Jim could see how painful feeding their child must be. He'd tried soothing the cracks with some lard from the top of their cooking pot. It hadn't worked as affectively as Jim hoped.

Racking his brain for another idea, Jim cursed being trapped in this hole. It's not like I can just go out to the store, he berated. I know bottles aren't an option but surely I can come up with something. In desperation, Jim stuck his finger in Jamie's mouth. It would keep him quiet for at least fifteen seconds, until he realised nothing came out the end. He's seen Trix do the same thing to help Jamie sleep.

In that time, Jim came to a startling realisation. The child in his arms didn't suck, he kind of pulsated his father's finger with his tongue. Starting at the tip, a wave of muscle worked the digit to the end. Trying to recreate the movement within his mouth, the physics of the motion suddenly made sense. Recalling his younger childhood, the Frayne family took a holiday to a working farm. Jim and his father hand milked cows. The two facts linked in his brain, forming a solution.

'Trix,' he attempted just as Jamie started to howl again. The distress in her child's tone made her cry harder. He could see the agony it caused her. Taking a deep breath, he calmed his frayed nerves and spoke loudly, with as much compassion as he could muster. 'Maybe we need to try something else,' Jim reached out a hand to make her understand, he did this in an attempt to solve the situation. 'Maybe we're not putting enough into Jamie's mouth and he's damaging you without realising. It's your nipples that are cracked and it's not called nipple feeding.'

Something in his speech reached Trixie. A look of amazement came over her face as she attempted to stop the tear from falling. Reaching down she used her thumb and forefinger to pinch the end of her breast. Experimenting with the technique, she looked up at Jim, astonishment coloured her face. Holding out her other hand for Jamie, Trixie gritted her teeth as she offered the sore body part to her child.

Yelping as he latched on, Trixie immediately took him away. It didn't feel right. Willpower alone made her face a study in determination. The second attempt less successful than the first, she tried again. This time it hurt but the pain proved bearable and the child sucked greedily.

'I remember Moms teasing Bobby,' Trixie finally found the courage to give Jim a small smile through the tear tracks, 'making him open up his mouth really wide. She'd say, he has to get a mouthful to feed properly. I didn't know what she meant.'

'You do now,' Jim moved to sit beside his wife. Placing an arm around her, he carefully stoked the baby's downy red hair. 'We've got a lot to learn, Trix.'

'This still isn't much fun,' she lamented through gritted teeth. 'I'm sorry…'

'For what,' Jim tried to comfort, laying a kiss at her temple, 'we're on our own and I can't even help you feed and nourish my son. There are no parents or friends to help with advice. No textbooks or medical professional to consult. The only thing we have is our memories. I think we're doing well considering.'

'Considering we're only getting three or four hours sleep a night,' the rancour in Trixie's voice couldn't be stopped.

'Maybe you need to rest more during the day,' he suggested. 'Let me take care of the garden.'

'Does that offer extend to washing out the t-shirts Jamie uses for dippers,' Trixie attempted levity, failing dismally. 'What are we going to do with him during the winter,' she fretted, 'you and I have to ware every article of clothing we have to go out into the hole. Even in the cave, we wear a t-shirt.'

'I've come up with something,' Jim sounded brighter than he felt. He rarely slept through a feed, especially with Trixie's grunts of pain in the last day. While doing the manual jobs, his mind turned to the realities of raising a child. 'Remember the doe skin I've been saving from our first winter here? Well I used the old army jacket, lining it with the fur and made a kind of pouch to carry him in so you can get out of the cave. When the weather turns cooler, we'll add the fawn's skin to the sling for extra warmth.'

As much as she didn't want too, Trixie knew Jim needed help with the early spring garden. This year two small deer became statics of the Hell Hole, providing them with protein. Her husband needed to cut up the meat and dry it for summer. Much of the winter wood needed drying and stacking in case the strange sounds returned next month. They needed to find a way of starting a fire quickly because they'd used all the matches. Trixie knew she'd feel happier with Jamie at least checked out by a medical professional and that meant getting out of here soon.

'I'll give it a go tomorrow,' Trixie promised. 'At least Jamie will be saved from the worst of the cold in the morning and evening. In a few weeks, it'll be warmer.'

'The garden should have sprouted by then,' Jim added. 'I know we decided to wait to try climbing out, at least until we know if our signal fire attracts any attention over the summer. I'm going to do everything we need to, just in case all our escape routes fail and we get suck here for another year.'

A shiver ran the length of Trixie's spine. Somehow, she knew they'd still be here the same time next year. Looking down at her son, Trix wondered how they'd cope with the challenges a growing child would present. Not to mention the lack of amenities.

In desperation, Jim hacked off her long hair so the strands wouldn't get in Jamie's way while he fed. They'd both developed dreadlock. Needing to save the blade for more important jobs, Trixie observed at the near Nathanial looking man beside her. He needed a haircut, shave and they both needed a bath with shampoo and real soap. Water only did so much. Shuddering once again at the thought of a very dirty infant crawling around in the brown dirt of the hole, she wondered how they'd ever keep Jamie clean once he started moving.

By the end of April, her cracked nipples healed and she'd established a good feeding regime. Jamie allowed them five straight hours sleep a night by five weeks of age. Trixie didn't consider this sleeping through and complained bitterly. She had no idea this would be considered a miracle under normal circumstances. It didn't last long. At six weeks, Jamie became extremely fussy, increasing his feeding time and crying before his need meal should be due. He slept soundly between ravenously eating. Trixie once again had to be careful to attach him securely. The dippers were another issue altogether.

'You've gotten so heavy,' Jim commented, bouncing his son on his knee to give Trixie a break.

Rolling her eyes, Trixie muttered, 'growth spurt, which explains a lot.' Feeling her breasts, she realised they filled much earlier. Attempting to entice her child into his next meal, Jamie would have none of it.

Grinning, Jim placed his son into his carrier. 'Well,' he commented, 'it's time for this daddy to do some chores. The garden needs watering and it's never too young to learn responsibility.'

Yawning, Trixie waved goodbye, 'have fun.'

'He's finally down,' Jim whispered in Trixie's ear later that night. His hand crept to her stomach and began to trace lazy circles around her navel. They hadn't made love in months. Two months, three days, Jim mentally counted, but who's keeping track.

'Wake him,' Trixie guided Jim's hand further south, 'and you'll be the one rocking him back to sleep.'

'Then you'd better be quiet,' he teased.

'Me!' Trixie squealed. Moving quickly, she pushed Jim onto his back and straddled him. 'You're the screamer in this marriage.'

'Watch out,' Jim managed to miss the sleeping bundle by separating his legs. The room in the sleeping cave, barely big enough for the two of them forced Jamie to sleep at his parents feet.

'Do you think we could take this party outside?' Trix suggested. Stopping to consider her options, she amended, 'close to the sleeping cave just in case Jamie wakes. I want to be able to hear him.'

Laughter gathered in Jim's green orbs. Slapping him, Trixie asked why without words. 'You're a Mom now, Shamus,' his tone deadly serious, 'and you're acting just like one.'

Stunned, she gazed off into space. 'I know,' Trixie commented, 'but until you said it, somehow it didn't seem real.'

Leading up to kiss her gently, Jim led them into a slow, intimate dance. Their touches filled with wonderment as he explored the changed in his wife's body. They reached that panicle together, ending entwined, happy but quite.

'Thank you,' Jim whispered.

'For what,' Trixie asked with a furrowed brow.

'You, Jamie, being safe,' he could have gone on forever, 'but mostly believing in me enough to love me as I am.'

A week later, Jamie started to sob without a reason. It occurred every evening at the same time. The howling session lasted several hours, causing his parents to want to pull their hair out. Neither Trixie nor Jim knew if the behaviour could be considered normal. They tried everything from jiggling the infant to leaving him to cry himself to sleep. In desperation Trixie fed him several times in a short space of time. Nothing worked.

In tears once again, Trixie sobbed. 'I don't have anything to feed him,' she wailed, milking her own breast to demonstrate to Jim.

Using his finger seemed to calm Jamie for a short while. His mind worked furiously to find an alternative to a bottle. 'Here goes nothing,' Jim muttered, holding a teaspoon full of cooled water to the infants' lips several hours later. 'I know it's not your Mommy's milk,' he used a soothing tone while peering into his son's blue eyes, 'but it's the best your dad can do.'

'It seems to be working,' Trixie whispered, afraid her words would break the spell. Jim grinned up at her, realising they past another challenge and tomorrow would bring more.