Micah:

I finish the last of the exercises on Rosy's left arm and place it down by her side before carefully rolling her onto her right side and covering her with the sheet and one blanket. I have just spent the last hour giving my unconscious wife physiotherapy to keep the strength and mobility in her limbs. I watch her for a few minutes hoping there will be some sign of her regaining consciousness.

"No change?" Doc asks as he walks into the room carrying a jug of dark liquid and a spoon.

"Nothing," I admit dully. I can't keep the worry Rosy won't come around at bay today. It has been eight days since she nearly died when Kali was born prematurely, seven days since she had been given what had turned out to be stem cells instead of whole blood. The extra fluids had helped stabilise Rosy's blood pressure and pulse but as yet she had not come around after Doc had stopped sedating her five days ago.

"I've got her lunch here," Doc says as he walks up to the head of her bed. He places the jug on the bedside drawers and reaches for the tube that goes up one of Rosy's nostrils and down the back of her throat into her stomach. I watch as he takes the cover off the end off the tube and attaches a small funnel to the end. He gives the contents of the jug a stir before lifting the jug to the funnel and begins to slowly pour the thick liquid so it can travel down the tube and into her stomach.

"Lunch today is thick beef stew," Doc tells her as he takes his time giving her the liquid food.

"Mikkarl blended it for you so you don't have to chew." Doc tells her as he pauses to give the liquid a swirl before resuming tipping it into the funnel.

"Mikkarl roasted the beef before using it to make the stew," I tell her. There is no reply, no sign she is aware of us in the room or that she hears us.

The three meals a day Doc has been giving to her plus the protein shakes mid morning and mid afternoon are having an effect on her malnourished body. Every calorie, every morsel of food is going into putting the condition back on her body. There is no longer the harsh look of too little food for the demands being made on her body, instead she is loosing that gaunt look and there is a thin layer of flesh hiding her ribs.

"Chris called to let you know the boys are ready to go visit Marissa," Sam says from the doorway startling me from my intense study of Rosy.

I turn to look at my brother-in-law. Sam leans heavily against the door-jam, there are lines of discomfort etched into his face. His injuries from the Weredingos attack were every bit as bad as feared but somehow he had held onto life long enough for Doc and Frank to stitch him back together. Neither of us say a word as I go over to him and help him to the chair by his sister's bed. We all take turns to sit with Rosy ensuring she is never left alone. I bend over and brush a kiss against her cheek near the corner of her mouth before straightening up and moving out of the way so Sam has a clear view of his sister.

"I'll give the boys and Kali your love," I tell her before forcing myself to walk from the room.

I try not to dwell on how wrong it feels to leave my wife while she is unconscious but I have to think of our children. Each afternoon before their evening meal the boys go into the room to tell Rosy of their day. I feel my heart swell with the love I feel for the four kitts Rosy brought into my life. I feel the smile tug at the corners of my mouth and my heart as I get closer to the main house. Before I take the boys to see Marissa I will have a short cuddle of Kali as long as she is not feeding.

I follow my ears to the lounge room of the main house and pause as I watch Jazzy sitting on the floor changing the scrap of clothe that works as a nappy for Kali. As I look at her I can't help noticing how much she resembles Rosy and Wynn with her tiny delicate features. The black curls are a sharp contrast to her mothers almost white blonde hair and her eyes are a milky non-descript bluish colour.

"Micah," Mitchell says firmly and I glance at him to find he has gotten to his feet. He walks over to me holding Cameron in his arms and I put both of my hands behind my back as I glance at Jazzy. She is watching with a frown but turns her attention back to Kali to wrap her in her blanket as Mitchell stops near me.

"Both Baxter and Cantrell Yates have called me in the last ten minutes," Mitchell says and I frown as I lift my chin slightly.

"What did he want?" I demand tightly. From past experience Cantrell Yates would be up to no good.

"The Board has convened," Mitchell says calmly. "Kurt tried to say the medical reports mean little, that the injuries could have happened any time between Rosy leaving and her return. Cantrell Yates apparently went to bat for Rosy, shot Kurt down every time he tried to make a point. Provided a perfectly plausible alternative to each of Kurt's arguments. Cantrell said Rosy would have returned to her kitts if it had at all been physically possible. He said we will probably never know why she left like she did, but short of loosing her memory, nothing would keep her away from the three boys."

I stare at Mitchell stunned. I had feared trouble from Cantrell Yates as much, if not more than from Kurt Black. I find it hard to believe he would defend her.

"Mal Inness pointed out Rosy is young enough to possibly go on to eventually produce another daughter which would strengthen the Werecat population." Jazzy says happily.

" Baxter said Cantrell convinced everyone sitting in on the proceeding to dismiss the charges. Even Kurt had to admit Rosy had shown no signs of her former distrust and aggression towards Cantrell. In fact Kurt admitted she clearly did not even seem at all like the individual she was before she disappeared." Mitchell says with satisfaction on his face.

"The charges have been dismissed?" I ask not daring to hope I heard correctly. "All of them?"

"Cantrell insisted that in view of the medical evidence Rosy would have been physically incapable of preventing Dorrington involving her in his interaction with the Weredingos. The attack here used as proof she was not affiliated with them," Mitchell states with a sober smile.

I feel tears well in my eyes as relief floods me, I look away from both Mitchell and Jazzy. It seems surreal that Cantrell Yates would defend Rosy. I note absently that the painting on the wall I am staring at without seeing is shaking. The wall is shaking, the carpet and as I look down at my hands I realise that it is me shaking. Something wet drops on the base of my thumb and I become aware of the cool feel of moisture on my cheeks. I sniff and brush the back of a hand across my eyes then give my head a slight shake.

"Anyone would think you're disappointed," Mitchell says with a faint laugh. I glance at him and for the first time notice his eyes are slightly pink and his eyelashes moist.

"I didn't dare to hope ..." My words trail off hoarsely and I move to the lounge to sit down for a few moments. I sniff again and wipe both sides of my face with the bottom of my t-shirt.

"Here," Jazzy says and my arms automatically fold around the small precious bundle she places in them. "Put her to sleep for me,"

As I gaze down at Kali and rock her slightly I can't help the feeling that Rosy should be here with me. I smile as small fingers grasp at my pinkie finger before Kali slowly stills except for her steady breathing. I marvel at the strength in her small grip, the way her hair curls in ringlets against her skull. The way she purses her lips and sucks at her tongue for a moment or two before yawning widely. Her eyes flutter open for a moment and I wonder if she can see me before she closes her eyes.

"I don't know what it is," Jazzy comments and I glance at her for a second or two before looking back at Kali's face.

"Unless she is feeding she fusses and fidgets and fights going to sleep. But the moment you hold her she dozes off," Jazzy says with a soft laugh.

I look at the sleeping child I hold and glance at Jazzy reluctantly. It is time to hand her back to her caregiver for now.

The bright flashes of fireworks lights the darkness. Some are a single bright spark that zooms off into the dark with a shriek, others hiss with just the slightest trace of colour before exploding into multi petalled flower heads of colour high in the sky. Tom thumbs skitter across the ground with multiple bursts of loud noise and small showers of sparks as they jump along. Fountains spew forth large brilliant spouts that go high into the air before slowly floating back towards the ground in flakes of glowing colour.

The air is rich with smells, cinnamon, vanilla, freshly turned earth, the smell of coming rain ... shadows move in the brilliant display of lights from the fireworks. Dry grass rustles beneath feet, something whispers against smooth bark and the faint sound of breathing can be heard.

The feel of smooth wood beneath hands and legs, the smell of a camphor laurel tree as the branch is bruised. Breathing whistling in ears and the feel of a heart pounding in the chest as bare feet race over the soft cushion of green grass. Masculine laughter somewhere close by, the rustle of leaves as someone moves. Shrieks of laughter in childish voices ring loud and clear as small warm arms gripping tight.

A large dark form steps out of the cover of undergrowth, ears back, lips curled as a growl rumbles forth. I feel fear but I am not afraid. The dark form of the cat melts away into nothingness, shadowy figures move around only half seen. Soft voices, soothing and calming, gentle laughter draws my own. Happiness, pleasure and security register even as shadowy figures disappear only to be replaced by others. A tall figure walks slowly closer, backlit by light it is impossible to make out any features. The silhouetted figure stops, our eyes meet and I am lost in their depths. Warm golden flames burn in their depths, darkness creeps in to consume all but the flames.

I can hear my heart beating, there are no other sounds to be heard. The wind has gone silent and only the embers of those golden flames remain until they burn out leaving total darkness. Pain burns in my chest at the loss of those flames, the pain builds and builds stealing my breath and making me want to cry out. I feel my heart flutter and miss beats, it doesn't seem to know how to keep to it's rhythm. I become aware of the empty ache within me and I long to fold my arms around myself and cry. I search the darkness but no one is there, I scream out soundlessly and the cry of pain echoes in my mind. I feel rough gravel beneath my feet as I stumble several uncertain steps. It hits me with the force of a freight train, I am alone, totally alone, no one walks beside me keeping me company. My heart misses the heart that was made to beat in unison with mine, misses the soft echo from within. In my mind I scream with the pain of their loss, I scream and scream until I cannot hear their absence.

The soft songs from the birds stir me from my sleep, I blink my eyes as I try to focus on the sight before me. Slowly things come into focus and I realise I am looking at wood panelling on a wall. The odd knot in the wood interrupts the grain of the wood and I trace the swirls with my eyes. It takes me sometime before I realise where I am, the large bedroom where Micah had slept holding me helping me keep the nightmares at bay since the attack by Hank. The memory of Hank has me clutching at my stomach frantically, my hands fail to find the familiar swell of my stomach over my growing kitt. I gasp in pain as I clutch my arms around my flat stomach. Sobs shake my body as I turn my face into my pillow and cry for the small life that had ended before it had a chance to exist.

"Rosy? Rosy? DOC! ..." The rest of the words are lost beneath my sobs as I feel a hand settle on my shoulder.

My throat starts to hurt with the force of my crying, I am distantly aware of someone talking to me, of my hair being brushed back off my face. I swipe at the tears on my face and my fingers encounter something beneath my nose. I pull at it and feel the horrid slide of something in my nose and against the back of my throat. Hands grab my wrists and I attempt to lash but my hands are pinned to the bed either side of my head. I scream in frustration and horror as I open my eyes and reluctantly turn my head to see who is restraining me. It takes me a few moments before the confusion eases and I recognise Chris. He is murmuring softly to me and I try to focus on what he is saying to take my mind off the horror of the thing in my throat.

"Doc while be here in a few moments and someone has gone to get Micah," Steven says as he comes into view over Chris' shoulder. I turn my eyes to his face and fight to get my tears under control.

"Hey there Darling," Steven says with a smile. I try to return his smile but my lips tremble and the empty ache in my arms matches the emptiness in my stomach.

"My Kitt," My voice is hoarse and faint. I swallow hard before trying to speak again.

"My baby is gone ..." I begin sobbing again and can't understand their soft murmuring as my cries all but drowns their voices out.

Micah:

I feel totally helpless as I listen to Rosy crying as Doc puts the tube he removed from her nose aside and turns back to her. She is curled up on her side hugging herself, her knees drawn up nearly to her chest. I glance over my shoulder as I hear the screen door shut loudly and rapid footsteps entering the quarters. A few moments and Jazzy appears in the doorway clutching her coat close around herself. Mitchell is close behind her and I see he has Cameron in his arms.

"Your kitt is alive Rosy, very very small but alive," Doc is repeating yet again.

I can only stand back and watch as he tries to calm Rosy, she had demanded to know if I was happy now her kitt was dead the moment she had seen me. I can't shake the hard lump in my chest that had formed at the thought of loosing Kali. Rosy goes silent as Jazzy moves past me, Rosy struggles to sit up and whimpers come from her throat. I can only see the back of Jazzy but I can hear Rosy's trembling voice as Jazzy reaches the bedside.

"Please, please, please, please ..." Rosy is begging, her voice hoarse and thick with tears. I move to where I can see as Rosy gathers Kalika into her arms, she cuddles her closes as she croons softly. I watch as Kali nuzzles against Rosy before she seems to go rigid, one little arm works free to wave wildly as she begins to cry in sharp high bleat like bursts. I watch as her little head turns from Rosy and she strains away from the body of her mother.

"Doc?" Rosy's voice is faint, scared and she looks up from her daughter with a look of horror.

Kali's cries rise in intensity and Jazzy shudders as if stopping herself stepping forward as Rosy cuddles Kali close trying to turn her little body so she is cuddling close not arching away from her.

"Nonononononononono," The word is one long chant as Jazzy slips her arms around Kali, I open my mouth to protest as Rosy tries to maintain her hold on her kitt. Kali's screams raise in intensity and I feel the knife that twists in my stomach as Rosy glances up from Kali into Jazzy's face as her daughter rejects her. I see the tears that once again run down her cheeks as Rosy slowly lets Jazzy take her daughter from her arms. I move to the bedside and engulf Rosy in my arms, I can feel the sobs that shake her body as she rests her forehead against my shoulder, she scrubs at her face with one hand before rubbing it on my shirt as she takes a deep trembling breath. I feel Rosy tense and suddenly she is jerking backwards fighting to free herself from my embrace, her cry filled with pain and loss as she pushes against my chest. I am filled with horror as I realise I have just added to what must be unendurable agony for Rosy, I smell of her newborn kitt that is bonded with another mother.