A/N: NOT EDITED.

Chapter 18 Chris POV

I smile to myself, my sons' care for their sisters, if anything, this monster that had them, didn't take that away... I heard it in Keith's voice; I saw it when my injured son, Bailey, limped to go to his sister, fed her while he fed himself. I look down and see Michelle asleep in my arms, and I'm broken, I'm a broken man. I'm angry, confused, torn, and I've stopped processing normally.

No matter which way I look at this situation, fury churns inside me. The anger builds, fills the emptiness of Rainy being gone for 10 years, my brothers ordering others to stop searching, and Adina, Adina, on that stage, claiming hurt and pain, when really she was the cause of it. She gave away a child. Someone her parents took in, her adopted sibling, she gave Rainy away like she was nothing, less than nothing. You – you can't even adopt a pet, without an application and interview, yet she gave away a child and prevented anyone from searching for her.

Ten years, ten long years, never, not once letting it drop that she gave Rainy away, and suddenly, I think the most awful thought yet; I'm happy. I'm elated that she's never been able to conceive, she doesn't deserve to have a child. She doesn't deserve that, and I'm happy she lost that first child. I shake my head, hating myself for even thinking such a thing, because not having a child, doesn't seem like enough.

Adina, she had 3,650 days to mention what happened, 3,650 days to stop the abuse they were suffering. She could have said something, we could have found them earlier – I immediately stop thinking that thought, because I'm holding Michelle, she's in my arms, and she wouldn't be here if Rainy was found earlier. I'm torn, she wouldn't be here, but Kayla wouldn't be so afraid... she wouldn't have suffered for so long.

I replayed the scenes of the last 10 minutes in my head, the doctor in me making all sorts of connections, the most disturbing, albeit small is Kayla afraid of eating. Hungry, but fear overriding the instincts to eat, led me to two options. I was there and that reduced her hunger or, someone had given her food before that made her sick...

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When I get to the nurses' station, a black haired, brown eyed, slight build nurse met my eyes, and I'm taken aback, I know her, she worked for me, was in my old pack, "Nancy Jacobs," I say in the form of a question as she blinks.

Nodding, "that's me," she says, and I'm not sure what she's doing here, or that she even left. "What – what are you doing here?" I ask stupidly.

"In the hospital? Or specifically this one?" Cheeky. Still, no one that works in my hospital and was a werewolf ever quit working there.

"The latter," I respond.

"I left when Logan did..." she says, carefully and I swallow deeply, more shame and guilt cakes on.

"It's not the same, I left because I had a child – have still, but Megan was six years old when Rainy went missing. I couldn't be in a pack that... that handled... her disappearance the way it was..."

I tilt my head, "Why wait to leave then?"

Nancy shrugs at me, "Many of us, that knew Rainy, knew her attachment to you, couldn't understand why she'd run away. Especially leaving you and Logan behind? It didn't make sense. Your brother – what he said was to not mention Rainella, so I concentrated on Logan. When he left, I left too, stayed with him, he paid for me to go to medical school to become a pediatrician..." she tapered off.

"I didn't know," I blurted out.

Nancy nodded in pity, her eyes failing down to Michelle, I follow her as well, "I want to take a look at their charts," I say and she pales. Well... I hope she had better bedside manner than that.

Her face screwed up, "I'm not sure that's a good idea... you can either be daddy or-" She stops abruptly her eyes flying over my shoulder; I spin to see what's going on. Rainy is looking right at me, I believe but when I check Nancy I see that Rainy, isn't looking at me, but her.

I realize that they are speaking over the link, I turn to Nancy, she nods sadly once, "Rainella said for us not to call you daddy but Papa or Padre instead..." I watch her not understanding as her eyes fill with tears, still beseeching, she didn't want me to make her say whatever it was, but I couldn't understand why them calling me daddy – "the... men that... that... the babies... they sometimes engaged in role play, f – forcing the children to call them-"

"Stop!" I cut her off understanding completely, Nancy hunched looking relieved. Clearly she didn't want to have to say the words, and I didn't want to hear them. Unwanted images, memories played in my head of Anna calling me daddy playfully in bed, whispering the term when she climaxed and feeling... I swallowed the bile, concentrating on Michelle's heartbeat, soft and calm against my own.

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I didn't deserve the kindness Rainy was giving me, showing me, helping me with and that was the only thing that was keeping me calm right now.

"The charts?" I said clipped.

"Chris – I'll say it again, you can be Papa or Doctor but you should be Papa instead, there is a reason we aren't allowed to-"

"The charts," I growled, regretting in instantly when Michelle stirred, I began humming and a slow rock, coaxing her back to sleep. Hoping it works, and pleased that it does, when I look back up, Nancy has folders in her hands, and I read the indecision in them. Sighing I hold out my hand, impatiently.

"You're making a mistake..." she mumbles under her breath but I hear it anyways.

I nod, "I've been making them for 10 years Nancy." This, medicine it's the one thing I'm not a failure at, I want to make sure their doing everything they can for the kids, but for me to know that, I need to know what's wrong with them.

With Michelle in my arms, I'm careful, I remain calm so I don't frighten her, but she is the best reason to keep my anger in check, the rage that wants to create chaos and damage everything, is overridden by my need to keep my daughter comfortable in my arms.

I start with Michelle and Nicole's chart, seeing that they are underweight, and their mobility is in the lower percentile for babies their age. They have no physical injuries, minor heal scratches, for all intents purposes, feeding more often alone will help get them to where they need to be. Unconsciously I lift her, resting her head against my chest, I kiss her forehead, grateful for the lack of injuries I know my other children have in spades.

I can feel Nancy's eyes on me, as I lay the two charts to the side, moving onto Sarah, Hannah and Lily, all should be around 34lbs and 39.5 inches tall, but not even the mean of the three of them touch that number. They are all near 29.7lbs and 36inches tall, burns scars, slices healed, split lips, hair line fractures, broken wrist that were malformed, bruised ribs, broken ribs, sprained ankle, broken fingers and Lily was missing the nail on her pinky finger.

I read not looking at the pictures, moving straight to the plan set, diet recommended because they were missing every vitamin known to man. Muscle mass was nonexistent and reading from the charts I understood why the windows were covered and the lights were down low, they'd been in the darkness.

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Some things didn't surprise me, the lack of sunlight meant they were all suffering from a lack of Vitamin D. with such prolonged deficiency, it was only natural that they were suffering with bone and muscle weakness. I had watched, Bailey feeding Kayla and saw how thin his arms were. Skimming, avoiding what I knew had happened; my oldest six were all sexually abused, Bailey, Michael and Kayla getting the worst of it.

Michael was recovering from a broken nose, Bailey was limping because like Kayla he had cuts, stitched up, and his ribs were bruised. Kayla... it'd be easier based on her x-rays to name the bones that hadn't been fractured. She had numerous spiral fractures – that only happened when there was a twisting force exerted on to a bone – and all the children had Greenstick fractures – my knowledge telling me that it could only occur with blunt force trauma to one side of the bones.

The doctor in me knew these were common injuries for children, especially Greenstick fractures, but the cutting, burns, bruising over every inch of their skin; the father in me was furious, my blood boiled, the hand on Michelle's back clenched into a fist.

Taking a step back I try to bridge the father and doctor inside me, closing my eyes I cradle Michelle, concentrate on her, on being relaxed, I begin humming. Her heart my metronome, I hear soft steps coming up behind me and the air on catches the scent, bringing it to me, Rainy. Slowly I turn, keeping my face kind and open I hope, a small smile, that I'm sure looks more like a grimace than a pleasant smile.

"I'm sorry," I say weakly, knowing it's not enough, but not being able to not say those words. She looks away, "He was planning this before I was even with you." She responds, deflecting.

"It was too... thought-out, he had his bases covered Chris... I'm a Werewolf; you'd never be able to actually seek human help. I need – I" she stopped her lip wobbling.

Eager to do something, "what do you need? I can – I'll get it?" I say.

"They're not healthy are they... they're permanently... their eyes... stomach?" she looks up at me steeling herself, wanting the truth; she wanted me to give her the truth.

"It's going to be painful, right now," I looked behind her and they all appeared to be sleeping..."they'll eat but sleep a lot. That's going to be helpful in their recovery. I – I don't know what they've had in terms for their diet, but based on tests I can tell it wasn't anything remotely healthy, nutritious. So they might be here a while, getting their numbers back up, and gaining weight, under supervision."

"They'll physically recover... but their minds... that's going to be – I'm not sure, no two cases are the same, now that they're out here-"

"It's going to be too much," she shakes her head stepping back, not meeting my eyes but concentrating on a sleeping Michelle.

"They don't know anything Chris, they – they didn't even know what grass was..." she whispers painfully, and I want to take that pain away, I want to reach inside her and carry it around so she won't have too, but I can't. I'm strong enough too, but that doesn't matter.

"They knew how to use eating utensils," I pointed out stupidly, regretting that I said it until she smiles small down at her feet.

"Wh-when we were... allowed to eat, he gave us sporks, only 4 of them, we – we had to share," she answers. And I'm stuck. How do I respond to that? I'm a doctor... surely I know the right response, but I don't.

"I'm sorry they can't call you – you know?" she waves her hand. I understand and the bile is back, putting her first I force a response, "That doesn't matter, they can call me Chris-"

"No... no... I think... I don't know – I just" she stops flustered, her heart racing and if I could read her mind, I'm sure that would be too as well. She's changed, I note stupidily.

"Rainy," I whisper, "I know we have to go slowly, at whatever speed their comfortable with," I say hoping she knows the children are our main priorites but I meant her as well.

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