There were two days every year that made her want to scream, tear her heart out and cry like a baby. The day Brittany had died and the day she'd lost... him. Lovino had never known. No one but her and Arthur had ever known about what happened and why the eighth of November killed her every year.

Miscarriage, Arthur called it.

Failure to protect yet another person she cared about, she called it.

He would have been perfect. Or at least, as close as one could get to perfect. The perfect blend of both his parents. Kind when he needed to be, but not a doormat. Strong and bull-headed when someone was trying to take advantage of him, but not cocky or narcissistic.

She'd been planning to name him Damiano. Her reasons had been her own, but Arthur thought it was because she was exploring italian names. She'd simply laughed and decided not to tell him it was because of an italian pastry chef she'd had a stupid school-girl crush on when she was a teenager.

It was worse because she knew exactly what he would've looked like when he was older. Arthur had offered to perform a spell that would show her what he looked like. She'd figured that it couldn't do any harm. She had been so wrong and the knowledge just made her heart ache that much worse. He would've looked a lot like his older brother actually. His hair would've been darker than Sev's and a bit longer. His eyes would've been blue, like hers. She'd asked Arthur why that was, as green eyes was a more dominant trait than blue ones and "Why won't he have Lovi's green eyes?" Arthur had simply shrugged and said he didn't know. Genetics did what they wanted and it was a possibility for a child with one blue eyed parent and one green eyed parent to have blue eyes, though rare.

Arthur had tried to get her to tell Lovino. She'd said she would after she knew Damiano would survive. She'd genuinely thought he would and she'd actually planned on telling everyone. But there were complications. It was genetic, Arthur said and she remembered her mother having problems during her two pregnancies. He'd decided to stay with her, to make sure she was alright. Knowing she wasn't going to change his mind, she'd given up trying and accepted it. At first, it seemed like she was fine. That was until it all came crashing down.

She'd woken up screaming and covered in blood. Arthur had jumped awake and run in to help, to stop it, to do anything, but it was already too late. For the first hour after it happened, she'd been in denial. Her mind kept trying to tell her that this was just a horrible nightmare and that she just needed to wake up. Finally, she couldn't lie to herself anymore and she'd broken down. Arthur had tried to comfort her, but that ended with him holding her while she screamed and cried until she was hoarse, beating her fists against his chest, trying to get him to let go of her. He'd simply readjust his grip and taken it, until she'd cried herself out and collapsed in exhaustion. He'd be ten now. She thought, running a finger along the rim of her glass. To anyone who didn't know her well, it'd probably think she was drinking some sort of alcohol, wine maybe. She wasn't, it was just juice in a wine glass because no other glasses were clean and she didn't feel like doing the dishes. She hated wine, hated most alcohol in fact. She despised the taste and what it did to people. There was a knock on the door and she got up, her movements slow like she was trying to walk in molasses. She opened the door, not at all surprised when it revealed Arthur. She didn't even greet him, just gestured for him to come inside and left the doorway so he could.

"Are you drinking wine?" The door closed and he began taking his shoes off. At least he was polite. No one else took their shoes off when they came to visit.

She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn't see. "No," her voice came out gravelly and rough. "It's juice. There aren't any other clean glasses."

"Oh." Arthur followed her into the living room and sat on the couch as she sank into the dark blue papasan chair she'd gotten the year before. "H-how are you feeling?"

"Same as every year." she replied, staring at him through tired, half open eyes. She realized she should've gone to bed earlier the night before.

Arthur watched her uncomfortable with the silence and the tension. She'd always been quiet, but this was different. He came over every year since he was the only person who knew about Damiano, but every year she seemed more withdrawn and empty. He wondered silently how long it had been since she'd last gone outside. She seemed paler than usual, which was saying a lot for her.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked, regarding him coldly. Her thoughts were raging and she wanted to scream at him. He was acting like her father. Well, not her father, more like a father who actually gave a damn about his child. Her father was a deadbeat who had never wanted a kid in the first place. He nodded and she took another sip of her juice before continuing. "What were you originally trying to do?"

He blinked. "I'm sorry?" He knew exactly what she meant, but he didn't want to talk about it. She was emotional enough, he didn't want to make it worse.

"Don't play dumb with me." she hissed, her eyes narrowed now not because of fatigue, but because of anger. Her voice was cold and her knuckles were white, clenched around her glass. "You know what I mean. What were you doing when your stupid spell got me pregnant?"

He looked at his lap and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "I'm not sure I should tell you that."

Her eyes blazed. "I think you should. If it weren't you and your magical buddies, I wouldn't have five children."

"Are you upset about having children or not knowing what we were doing?"

"Don't bring the children into this." she snapped. "No, I'm not upset about having them. I love them."

He hesitated, fighting with himself silently. He supposed she deserved to know, after everything that had happened, but what if the information just made her mental health worse? Finally, he sighed and looked at her. "We were trying to bring Brittany back."

Her breath caught in her throat and she stared at him in shock. Her mind raced, trying desperately to process this new information. Her sat her glass down, her hands shaking and clenched them into fists. That did nothing, the shaking didn't stop it just wasn't quite as obvious.

"You know, I really think you should tell Lovino."

That snapped her out of her shock and she glared at him. "It's been ten years. You want to tell him that he almost had another son who I lost and you want me to tell him ten years after the fact?"

Arthur crossed his arms. "He deserves to know."

"No. Having Sev and Bell has put enough stress on him. I'm not adding the burden of the knowledge of another child who didn't even survive to his due date."

His eyes narrowed. "This has nothing to do with his stress. You're trying to protect yourself."

"And what have you been doing for twenty years?" she snarled. "We've all wanted to know what the original intent if that spell was and you choose now to tell me?"

"That's different."

"How? Both scenarios have to do with someone's life and how someone else would react. How is it different?"

"This is why I didn't want to tell you."

"She's my best friend Arthur. My sister! I think the person who was closest to her deserves to know about things like that!"

He stayed silent, knowing she wasn't going to back down. If he didn't give her things to argue about, this would be over soon and he could leave.

"And she's Francis' niece. You don't think he should about this?" Her voice was quiet and she wasn't even looking at him anymore. "I know I'm not the only one who misses her. She's actually biologically related to him. Doesn't he deserve to know that you tried to bring his niece back?"

His temper flared up again. "How is that different from you not telling Lovino about Damiano? Shouldn't he know that he almost had another child?"

"I told you that I'd tell him if Damiano survived!" she hissed. "He didn't so I didn't say anything. And I'm not planning to now, not after ten years."

His eyes narrowed. "Fine." He checked his watched and sighed. "I need to leave." He got up, went to the door and put his shoes on. Once they were firmly on his feet, he opened the door and stopped. "Feel better." He walked out before he could hear her response.

She rolled her eyes and picked up her glass again, draining it. Her fingers tapped against her thigh as she tried to come up with something to do. "'Feel better.'" She mocked, lowering her voice to impersonate Arthur. "Yeah, not likely." She pushed herself out of her chair and went to the kitchen. Her argument with Arthur had given her a strange rush of energy and she did the dishes before it could go away. She went upstairs and checked that she had both Brittany and Selene's birthday presents. For Brittany, she'd gotten a leather trenchcoat because she was constantly talking about them. For Selene, she'd gotten the book series The Lunar Chronicles partially because it was a fantastic series and partially because it had been part of the reason she'd chosen the name for her albino daughter.

Her hand had gone to her flat stomach and she glanced down, pulling out the photo Arthur had made of the older version of Damiano. Tears welled up in her eyes again and she held the photo to her chest. "I'm sorry baby. I'm sorry I wasn't a good mother to you."