"I walked away from Todd. Day after day, I walked away and left him to that monster. So to respond to your original statement: No, Todd really didn't have me growing up. Todd had no one. Not one person on the face of this entire earth whom he could really turn to."

Bill saw that Sam was in even more pain than he has suspected. Bill thought it best to just say what he honestly felt. "Sam, I can understand your guilt. I can't even tell you that you shouldn't feel guilty. What I can tell you is that I can see how much you love that boy and how much he loves and needs you. I remember little Andy saying he wanted you to hold him because it doesn't hurt when you hold him."

Bill noticed tears come to Sam's eyes.

***********************************************************************************************************

Sam took a few minutes to pull himself together. His conversation did not really assuage his guilt, but Bill did say one thing that Sam knew was true. He had another chance to be a good father to Todd. He was truly grateful for that. He headed to Todd's room to retrieve the bird dish.

"Is Mr. Jackson your bestest friend?" Timmy asked Susannah.

Susannah sat on the bed and stroked Timmy's cheek as Viki continued to hold him wrapped in her arms.

"He's a new friend. Do you like him?" Susannah asked.

Timmy nodded and said, "Mr. Panda and Mr. Rabbit do too."

"They do! How do you know?" Susannah asked Timmy as she and Viki exchanged smiles.

"They told me. Can I give them some ice cream too?"

"I don't know if bears and rabbits can eat ice cream. Why don't we wait until we can get them some special food?" Viki suggested.

"So they don't get tummy aches?" Timmy figured out.

Viki hugged him a little tighter and kissed his head.

"That's right, sweetheart," Viki replied. Viki was always at her happiest when "her child" was snuggled safely in her arms.

"I think you can go back to your own room tomorrow morning," Susannah informed Timmy.

"Is Andy there?" Timmy asked hopefully.

Susannah realized he really had no concept of how the system worked. A part of him knew that he was inside Todd and so were the others and that he was in Todd's body, but he really didn't understand. He wasn't able to grasp the fact that Andy and the others weren't separate from him. He would repeat what he had been told about things, like that it was Todd's heart that was sick, but true understanding of it seemed to be beyond him.

"Sweetie, when you go back to your room Andy will be going back too. He lives inside Todd, just like you do."

"No, sometimes Andy gets lost or runs away or hides. Sometimes he has no place to go and he cries. I love Andy. I don't like it when he's sad."

Both Viki and Susannah were very upset by what Timmy just said. They wondered if for some reason, the parents of Todd’s system were rejecting sweet, funny little Andy. If so, they could not imagine why.

Sam came back in with the bird dish. "Here you go Timmy. Now when Mr. Jackson comes back, you can fill up your favorite dish and see if you can get the birds to sing."

Timmy looked up at Sam and studied him for a moment and then asked, "Are you sad?"

Sam was amazed at how well and how quickly Timmy and most of the alters could sense the feelings of those around them. It was almost as if they had a sixth sense.

"Yeah, I'm a little sad," Sam confessed. Sam sat down on the other side of the bed, opposite from where Susannah was sitting. "You know what I need not to feel sad?" He asked Timmy.

"Uh uh," Timmy admitted, shaking his head.

"A big hug. Do you think you could help me out?" Sam prompted.

Timmy held his arms out to Sam, who took hold of Timmy and held him as tightly as he could without hurting him. Sam kissed him on the forehead and asked, "Do you know, I love you more than anything in the whole world and I love being your daddy."

Timmy smiled and snuggled into Sam and put his head on Sam's shoulder.

Sam felt Timmy suddenly try to pull away. He released his hug.

"Timmy" hung his head down and started to cry.

Timmy, what is it? Did I hurt you?" Sam asked, afraid he'd held him too tightly.

"I'm Andy," he wept.

"Andy, sweetheart, what is it? Why are you crying?" Susannah pressed as she lifted up his tear-stained face.

"Sam don't love me more than anything or want to be my daddy."

"Oh Andy," Sam took Andy in his arms. "Sure I do. I love all of you the same. It's just that Timmy was the one who was here now, so I told him. I would love to be your daddy."

"Will you play baseball with me?"

"You bet I will. As soon as you're feeling better," Sam promised.

Andy snuggled up to Sam and rested his head on Sam's shoulder. "I'll be a good boy if you want me to. I'll be real quiet so mommy won't hear and I won't move away and I'll tickle you back if you want me to. I promise I'll try not to throw up and I won't tell anyone."

Sam Viki and Susannah exchanged looks with each other. They realized Andy was offering himself to Sam in return for love. Andy still could not get past thinking that he had to allow a man, who's love he wanted, to molest him.

"Andy," Sam began. He held Andy a little tighter. "I love you just for being you. There is nothing you have to do for me or give me. You don't ever have to think that you have to touch me or let me or anyone touch you in anyway you don't want to be touched in order for them to love you. You are already a good boy and I already love you very, very much. I am very proud of you. More than anything I want to be your daddy and Timmy's daddy and a daddy to Todd and everyone else who lives inside him. Do you understand?" Sam asked as he rubbed Andy's back.

Sam felt Andy's head nod yes against his shoulder. However he still wasn't sure Andy really did understand.

"Andy, Doctor Hanen's friend is gonna bring ice cream. You can share mine. Look! Sam brought the bird dish I told you about. Don't be sad. Sam loves us together." They heard Timmy's voice say as he shifted position in Sam's arms.

Sam realized he was now hugging two little boys.

Bill came back into the room carrying a bag full of ice cream.

"I remember you! We played with the trains together," Andy proclaimed and pulled back a little from Sam. He looked up at Bill.

Bill immediately realized that this was the little boy he first met. It was Andy, the one who was hiding under the bed. "Hello Andy. I remember you too."

"Look, Sam brought us the bird dish."

Bill looked confused for a minute. The two voices were different, as were the facial expressions. He then realized that both Andy and Timmy were simultaneously using Todd's body. He knew he was now talking to both Andy and Timmy.

"That is a very good looking dish. I hope you boys finish your ice cream so I get to hear the birds sing," Bill encouraged.

Bill had gotten some plastic bowls and he dished out the various flavors of ice cream. He then put some of the chocolate flavor in the bird dish. Sam picked up the bowl and set the timer and handed it to the boys.

Timmy reached for it. His hands still trembled as he held the bowl and lifted the spoon. The weakness was still visible.

"Would you like me to feed you, sweetheart?" Viki offered.

Timmy nodded. He took a couple of spoonfuls and then closed "his" mouth and shook his head.

"Baby, what's the matter? Does your tummy hurt?" Viki inquired.

"I don't like the chocolate. I like the white one."

Bill realized it was Andy and suggested, "Andy, there's plenty more vanilla. Would you like me to add some to the bird dish?

Andy looked at Timmy.

"It's okay Andy. We'll share. It's your dish too," Timmy generously proposed.

Bill scooped some vanilla ice cream into the dish.

Andy happily opened his mouth and allowed Viki to feed him. "You boys are going to have to tell me when to put vanilla on the spoon and when to put chocolate on it." Viki said and smiled at her two little boys.

Bill watched in amazement as they each took turns calling out "vanilla" or "chocolate" and opening their mouth for Viki to feed them a spoonful.

"Sam's our daddy, now," Andy enlightened Bill, in between mouthfuls.

"He loves us more than anything," Timmy added.

"And he's real proud of us," Andy stated and continued, "He's gonna play baseball with us."

Timmy turned away and hung his head.

"What's the matter?" Susannah asked. She lifted his face so they could see which boy they were dealing with.

"I can't play baseball good. I get clumsy. Sam'll hate me."

"Never Timmy! I don't care how you play. You are not clumsy and I would never, ever, ever, hate you," Sam reassured.

Andy put his arm around Timmy's shoulder and consoled him. "Don't worry Timmy. I'll teach you good. Then you'll be a real good baseball player. You just have to get big like me." They saw Timmy rest his head against Andy's shoulder.

Bill could not stop looking at them. He had never seen anything like this. He could actual "see and hear" two distinct little boys, interacting with each other and with the adults in the room.

"Come on boys. The birds are waiting for you to finish your ice cream." Viki did not want the timer to go off while there was still food left in the bowl.

They each opened their mouths until both flavors were just about gone. The timing worked out. Just as Viki spooned the last spoonful of vanilla into Andy's mouth, the birds started singing. Bill watched in delight as both boys got huge smiles on their faces and started giggling with each other.

"See! We made the birds sing," Andy exclaimed.

"We did it together," Timmy added and reached out for Andy's hand. Timmy then asked Andy, "Can you stay here with me all night?"

Andy turned to Susannah and asked. "Is it okay?"

Susannah smiled and put her arm around both boys and answered, "You boys can stay together any time you wish."

Bill watched as Sam and Viki read a story to Andy and Timmy, and then tucked them in. He noticed that Viki gave Todd's face a kiss on each cheek. He realized it was one for Andy and one for Timmy. He could tell she had done this before. Timmy asked Sam to put Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Panda in between them, so they could share.

"Goodnight Mr. Jackson. Thanks for the ice cream," Andy said, in a sleepy voice.

"Thanks for the ice cream," Timmy repeated, his voice different, but just as sleepy. Bill saw Timmy once again reach out for Andy's hand.

"If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I could never have imagined it. There were actually two little boys here with us tonight. How is that possible?" Bill asked as he and Susannah sat on the couch in the lounge down the hall from the room Todd was in. He was totally astonished by what Todd's mind was capable of.

"They are separate little boys. You probably couldn't notice, but there is a split second gap between the switching. It happens so quickly that it is almost imperceptible. At the point when each of them speaks or does something they are in control of Todd's mind and body for that moment. So it actually is two separate personalities. They can see and hear each other as if they are next to each other," Susannah explained.

"The way they comforted each other, they are both so . . ." Bill was at a loss for words."

"They are both very kind, generous and loving children. They are that way with each other and with everyone."

"So one of them can excel at something like baseball or climbing trees and the other might not be good at it at all?" Bill was fascinated.

"Oh absolutely. Thomas and Andy both seem to have been very athletic, as were Pete and Todd. Tom and Timmy are not. They are quieter and shyer. It also extends to their creative ability and their ability to learn. Most of them draw well. Some of them are just the most amazing artists. I will take you to the art room sometime and show you their work. You won't believe it."

"Susannah, they are all so individual and distinct. They seem to go in so many different directions. If they all become a part of Todd it seems to me as if he would just explode. How will one person be able to handle a mind and body that goes in all these different directions? How can he be a fast and slow learner at the same time? Or athletic and non-athletic or be a talented artist and just be able to draw okay, all at the same time?" This was almost beyond Bill's scope of understanding.

"Todd is a good athlete. He is a talented artist and a brilliant boy, a genius actually. There can be a vast difference in IQ between alters and between alters and the host. In this case I've found the IQ's of those I've been able to test to all be above average. Tom is slow in some respects but he shines in others. The alters who believe that they are stupid and clumsy and without talent believe that because it was drummed into their head. Peter did an excellent job of that. Todd's gifts and talents had to come out somewhere. They had to be expressed. So those gifts and talents went to some of the alters who could handle them. They somehow didn't allow Peter's words to take it away from them. Once Todd is whole he can do all the things that the alters are keeping safe for him. Miraculously, Todd did not allow his gifts to be destroyed. He preserved them, in the alters. One day they will return them to Todd. Does that make sense to you?" Susannah really wanted Bill to understand Todd.

"Yes," Bill nodded and declared, "I am completely in awe of your patient, Doctor Hanen,"

Susannah saw the look of great respect for Todd's ability to have chosen this way to survive and for the kind of young man Todd was, written on Bill's face. Susannah leaned back and put her feet up on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Did you get a chance to talk to Sam about taking over the search for the Bakers?" Susannah inquired.

"I don't know about taking it over, but I would certainly like to try my hand at it, and no, I didn't get the chance. Sam started talking about not being there for Todd when he was young. Man! Is he ever on a guilt trip. I can understand it. I mean he did have ample opportunity to see what was happening to the kid. But he has to let it go. He can't change what happened."

"I'm not sure if he will ever be able to do that completely. Every time he sees Todd suffering, it is a reminder of the fact that he might have been able to spare him that. Sometimes people's feeling of guilt are based on something groundless. In Sam's case, he has a legitimate reason for feeling that way and he knows it and it is eating at him," Susannah explained.

"He loves that boy so much. It's not too late. I told him that. He still has a chance to be a dad to him. Todd and the others need a mother and a father as desperately now as a newborn would. Doesn't Sam realize how much he is helping? He has pretty much put his life on hold and devoted himself to Todd's care. He should realize that counts for something," Bill proclaimed.

"I think a part of Sam realizes it. He certainly recognizes it in Viki. They both have put everything on hold. They practically live at the hospital." Susannah agreed.

"If, god forbid, something happened to Todd, their lives would be over as well. You weren't exaggerating about the things you said to Todd the night he went into cardiac arrest, were you Susannah?"

"No," Susannah sadly admitted.

They were just starting to talk about Bill's ideas for furthering the investigation into the Baker's disappearance, when one of the night nurses on the step down unit came into the hall.

"Doctor Hanen, Todd seems to be having a nightmare. I think you'd better come.

Susannah and Bill quickly walked back to the room Todd was in. Sam and Viki were on either side of him, each holding on to an arm and trying to stroke and comfort him as the attending and two nurses stood by.

"I think it's Tom," Sam guessed when he saw Susannah come in.

Todd's body was thrashing in the bed gasping for breath, crying out, "No! No! I didn't cry. I cleaned it up. I did. I did! Stop! I didn't cry. I didn't cry. Nooooo!"

"Tom! Tom! Wake up. Honey it's just a dream, now wake up. Come on," Susannah coaxed as she shook him gently. "TOM! You need to wake up now," Susannah called to him. She lightly tapped his cheeks.

What they didn't know was that Tom was dreaming about one of the most horrific nights of his young life. Tom's eyes shot open. He reached up for his throat. "I can't breath," he gasped. "Ooooooh, it hurts." He tried to get into a sitting position, but Sam and Viki were still holding him.

"Help him to sit up," Susannah instructed.

As soon as they got him in a sitting position, he attempted to get off the bed. "Whoa! Pal, you can't do that," Sam said and held on to him.

"I can't breath. Oooooh," Tom cried out. He lurched in Sam's arms. They knew he was feeling himself being beaten or burned or both. "I did it. I cleaned it up. Stop! No more! Pleeeeease!" His body lurched again, as he cried out in agony.

"Tom, it's not happening now. Tom, it's Doctor Hanen. Honey, you're in Sam's arms. Sam is holding you. No one is hurting you. Tom you're in the hospital. Your dad is not here. You're safe. You're safe, shhhhh," Susannah tried to calm him. She stroked the back of his head as Sam held him. Viki was holding on to Tom's right arm and rubbing it.

Susannah ordered a sedative. She hated to weaken Todd's body any further by keeping him heavily sedated. She ordered one that would hopefully calm him without putting him under heavy sedation.

Within a few minutes Tom stopped struggling but he was still not with them. He was still lost in his nightmare.

"Tom, it's not happening now. Come on honey, look at me," Susannah tried again.

Tom could not hear them. He was in the Chicago house he grew up in. They all listened as Tom, completely unaware of their presence, cried, mumbled and talked to himself. They tried to put the pieces of what he thought was now happening to him together.

Tom had spent the earlier part of the night listening to his parents fight. The remnants of their dinner were strewn on the dining room floor, where Peter had thrown it. Broken china also littered the floor. The new dress his mom was wearing was now torn and covered with food and blood.

He remembered the earlier part of the evening, before his father had gotten home. He'd been sitting on the living room rug, drawing a picture. He always made sure to put his art supplies away before his dad came home because Peter hated to see him drawing like a "little girl."

Tom remembered seeing his mother come down the stairs.

"Mama, you look so pretty. You're the prettiest mom in the whole world."

Barbara twirled around and showed off her new dress. Tom remembered the smile on her face when he told her how pretty she looked.

"Are you going to a party?" Tom asked.

"No darling. Today is a special day. Today is daddy's birthday, so I made us a special dinner. Just daddy and me. I made you your favorite, pizza! You can eat early and then go to bed. Is that all right Tom? You don't mind, do you darling?"

Tom was relieved. He hated having dinner with his father. Tom could never eat when he father was at the table. His stomach was always too tied in knots. He had to force every bite. He knew Peter would punish him if he even left a crumb over. Barbara realized this and would always give Tom as small a portion as possible on nights when the three of them would eat together.

Tom was happy to eat first and then go to his room. He sat at the kitchen table watching his mother put the pizza and milk out for him. He loved to watch as her hair bounced around her shoulders and her dress twirled as she moved. He knew he had the prettiest mom in the whole world.

Tom was already in his room when he heard Peter come home.

"What are you decked out for?" Peter asked Barbara.

"Peter, I thought I'd do something a little special for your birthday," Barbara replied with a nervous smile.

"Well at least you're not drunk. That's special!" Peter snapped sarcastically.

"I prepared your favorite: prime rib. I made an apple pie for dessert." Barbara was desperate for his praise.

"I need a drink," Peter declared and headed for the bar.

Tom's heart pounded when he heard Peter ask, "Where's the boy?"

"He's already eaten and gone to bed. I thought it would be nice if it were just the two of us tonight," Barbara answered, her voice quivering.

"Maybe we can have a little peace around here without having to listen to that little bastard. I just hate the sound of his voice."

Peter's words cut through Tom like a knife.

Looking at Barbara's new dress, Peter spat out, "I guess you don't care how you throw away my money, do you! That old man of yours spoiled you to death. Oh, nothing was ever good enough for his little girl, was it! Including me! I can still hear that old son of a bitch trying to pay me off to get our marriage annulled. Man, he spoiled you rotten! Let you think you could get away with anything. Even taking in someone else's bastard."

Tom wondered what his father meant by that.

"Well your old man's not here anymore. Is he Barbara?! You can't go whining to him anymore."

Tom wanted Peter to stop. He knew his mom had been extra sad since her daddy died. She was crying, now, more than ever. He was glad that his mom was not answering his dad back. He knew she would get hurt if she did. He was so terrified when his mom would drink the liquor stuff and then sometimes forget not to answer back. He knew she would get hurt.

Peter was starting to feel a little frustrated. He felt pretty good at work when one of the new secretaries gave him the eye. He was a little disappointed when he came out of his office and saw that she was gone for the day. He had been figuring on getting a private birthday present from her. By the time he pulled into the driveway he was already thinking that if he wasn't stuck coming home to Barbara and her bastard he might have had a shot at a good time tonight. He reasoned that the secretary had asked around and found out he was not only married, but had a kid. He was planning on teaching Todd another lesson tonight. Now his plans were delayed.

"Peter, perhaps we should eat before it gets cold," Barbara suggested, in a timid voice.

Tom heard his parents head for the dining room.

"I hope this shit tastes better than it smells," Tom heard Peter say.

Things were quiet for a few minutes as Peter and Barbara quietly ate. Peter was seething. Why was he stuck here, with this bitch, on his birthday? She's just like the rest of them, he thought, Just like my mother and all the other whores out there. All she cares about was being supported and that little bastard.

Tom was almost dozing off when he heard the sound of dishes breaking and his father shouting and his mother crying. "Oh don't cry mama," Tom whispered to himself, "don't cry. Daddy will hurt you worse if you cry."

Tom heard a thump and then heard his mother cry out in pain. He turned on his side pulled his knees up and put the pillow over his ears. He knew he should go to help her but he was so afraid. He pressed down on the pillow as hard as he could. He could hardly breath under it. He still could not drown out the sounds.

"Who did you buy this dress for? Who were you planning on taking it off for!"

"I WANTED TO LOOK PRETTY FOR YOU!" He heard his mother yell.

"FOR ME! LOOK AT YOU! YOU'RE A LUSH! I HAVE TO CLOSE MY EYES EVERY TIME I FUCK YOU!" Peter yelled back.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" Barbara screamed as she lunged at Peter, scratching his face with her fingernails.

"Oh God mama. He's gonna kill you." Tom whispered.

"DID YOUR FATHER TEACH YOU THAT YOU COULD GET AWAY WITH THINGS LIKE THAT? DID HE, BITCH? DID HE LET YOUR MOTHER GET AWAY WITH THAT? IS THAT WHERE YOU GOT YOUR IDEAS FROM?" Peter shouted as he grabbed Barbara by the hair and dragged her to the table.

"NO PETER! NO!" Tom heard his mother scream.

"YOU EXPECTED ME TO EAT THIS. DIDN'T YOU!" Peter shouted.

Tom did not know his mother was quiet because Peter had just pushed her face into one of the plates of food. He lifted her head up. She was gasping for air and crying at the same time.

"SO WAS I SUPPOSED TO EAT THIS!" Peter threw the plate full of food against the wall. "OR THIS!" he yelled, throwing another plate. "OR ANY OF THIS SHIT!" Peter screamed, as he swept everything off the table with is arm.

Peter then quieted down for a moment. He looked at Barbara.

"Peter no!" Barbara cried out. She had seen this look in his eyes before and she knew what was coming.

"What's the matter? I thought you wanted to look pretty for me?" Peter mocked her calmly, which made Barbara more afraid than if he had screamed it.

"Were you teasing me? Was that going to be your game?" Peter asked as he slowly and deliberately walked towards her.

"Noooo! Peter please!" Barbara begged.

"No? Is that why you put that dress on? Is that why you fixed your hair? Lying bitch! You say no, but we both know you mean yes. We both know you get a kick out of it that way. Don't we bitch!" Peter continued as he pushed Barbara up against the wall, trapping her with his body.

"Peter please, don't!" Tom heard his mother beg.

"I'm your husband. You don't tell me no! I work like a slave all day to give you this house and to keep food in your mouth. You and that fucking little bastard. I own you! I own you like I own this house."

Tom then heard the sound of his father's hand hitting his mother. He heard Barbara moan and then scream, "NOOOO!"

Tom was overwhelmed with fear and guilt. He slowly climbed out of bed and tiptoed down the stairs. He hid behind the wall and peered into the dining room. He saw all the food and broken plates on the floor. Then in the corner of the room he saw him mother, face down on the floor and Peter on top of her. Peter looked like he was doing to her what he did to Timmy.

Tom looked at Barbara. Her eyes were funny. She looked far away, like she wasn't seeing anything. Peter looked like he was bouncing up and down on top of her. Tom saw that her pretty new dress was torn and she had food in her hair. Tom didn't know what to do. He wanted to run in and pull Peter off of her. He wanted to hug her and make it stop hurting. His legs would not move. He then wanted to go back to his room, but he could not make his legs work. Tom's heart was pounding so hard he was afraid Peter would hear it.

Then Tom saw his father stand up and fix his clothes. His mother just lay on the floor, moaning softly. Peter bent over her and was about to hit her again when he straightened up and said, "You're not worth the effort. I need a drink."

Tom knew his father was going to come his way. Suddenly he got his legs to move. He quickly crawled under a hallway table and prayed his father wouldn't see him. Peter rushed right past him and headed for the living room bar. Tom could see into the living room from where he hid. He saw his dad pour himself a full glass of some brown looking liquid and sit on the couch with it.

In total silence, Tom crawled into the dining room. He crawled over to his mother as she still lay on the floor. Her eyes were closed. One was purple and swollen. He lip was cut and bleeding. She was moaning softly.

"Mama? Mama please don't be dead," Tom whispered.

Barbara opened her eyes. A look of terror crossed her face. "Oh my God, Tom! What are you doing out of your room?" Barbara whispered.

"I'm sorry I didn't help you, Mama. I'm sorry I let him hurt you," Tom apologized as tears poured down his cheeks.

"Tom, listen to me. You have to get back to your room before he sees you."

"No Mama. I want to stay with you." Tom kissed her near her swollen eye. "Did that make it feel better?" he asked, remembering that she sometimes did that to him and the others.

"Yes darling, that made it feel a lot better. Tom please, listen to Mama. I want you to be as quiet as a little church mouse." Barbara used an expression she often used to remind him to be quiet. "I want you to go back to your room and get into bed and go to sleep. I'll be okay. Daddy is quiet now. He won't hurt me any more. I'll go upstairs soon. Tom please, don't let daddy catch you down here." Barbara sat up. She kissed Tom on the head and whispered, "Go!"

Tom tiptoed out and made it up the stairs and back into his room. He climbed into his bed and pulled the covers up over his head. He drew his knees to his chest and rocked himself. He wondered why his dad had punished his mother the same way he punishes Timmy. Maybe she did the same bad things Timmy and Todd did?

Tom was there for a little while when he heard the door to his parent's room open and then shut. He heard his mother's voice, softly sobbing. Then he heard nothing. He knew she probably drank the stuff that made her fall asleep.

Finally, Tom had fallen asleep himself. He was dreaming he was in the park with his mother and she was watching him swing so high in the air that he thought his feet would touch the clouds. She was smiling and laughing and so was he, when suddenly his dream ended abruptly and he felt himself in the air. His throat was hurting and he was unable to breath.

He tried to get his footing, but there was only air under his feet. He opened his eyes and found himself staring directly into Peter's. He looked into his father's eyes. They terrified him.

Peter carried him down the stairs. Only this time, instead of carrying him into the kitchen, he carried him into the dining room. When Peter removed his thumb and knuckle from Tom's throat, Tom gasped for breath. He was immediately nauseated by the smell of liquor and cigarettes coming off of Peter.

Peter threw him down on the floor. "Your pig of a mother made this mess. I want you to clean it up. Don't let me find one speck of food or one piece of glass left on the floor."

Tom looked at the unbelievable mess of dried-on food and glass broken into a million pieces all over the floor and had no idea how he would ever clean it up.

"I want you to go get the vacuum cleaner, broom, shovel and a mop and pail. Then I expect to see this room spotless. Do you understand, Todd?"

Tom looked up at his father and nodded. He was grateful that this is what Peter dragged him out of bed for. Tom gathered all the necessary cleaning equipment and brought it into the dining room. Peter sat in his place at the head of the table. He had gotten a bottle of liquor and a glass. He sat and sipped his drink as he watched Tom attempt the monumental task of cleaning up the room.

"Don't get the glass caught in the vacuum," Peter warned.

It was now nearly four o'clock in the morning. Tom had been cleaning for over six hours. His hands and knees were cut and bleeding from kneeling in the glass, and picking it up by hand. His body was sore from dragging around a vacuum cleaner that weighed almost as much as he did. His pajamas were covered with food stains and blood. He looked around several times. He could not see any traces of food or glass left in the room. He looked over at Peter. He appeared to have fallen asleep.

Tom, being "as quiet as a church mouse," put away the cleaning equipment. He had accidentally spilled some water from the bucket on the hallway floor and was on his knees, wiping it up with some rags, when he felt himself being lifted by the hair. He involuntarily yelped in pain. Now it was his turn. He was dragged to the kitchen. His punishment was about to begin.

Tom felt his pajamas being taking off and heard Peter saying, "Look how filthy you are. A pig! Just like your mother."

Tom felt the dishtowel Peter used to tie his wrists together cut into to his tender young skin. Tom felt the cold kitchen table under his naked body, as Peter laid him on it. He felt Peter turn him on his stomach. He heard the sound of Peter taking his belt off and then felt the buckle of Peter's belt tear into his flesh. Tom smelled cigarette smoke and knew what was coming. He felt the lit end draw a circle of burns on his buttocks.

When Peter grabbed a handful of salt from a box on the shelf and rubbed it into the fresh, bleeding wounds on Tom's back and buttocks, Tom shrieked in pain.

Then it was over. Back in that kitchen in Chicago, Tom had passed out. The enjoyment over, Peter carried Tom's limp and naked body up to his room and threw him on the bed. He had not bothered to untie his hands. He left Tom's room, locking the door behind him. Even Peter had, had enough for one night. He went to the den to get some sleep.

In his hospital room in Llanview, Tom, helped by the sedative, was slowly coming out of his nightmare and the flashback it triggered. Sam had been holding Tom as tightly as possible, trying to soothe him and orient him to the present.

"Sam, I need to examine him. Lay him down," Susannah instructed. "Tom, it's Doctor Hanen. Honey, can you hear me? I'm going to untie your wrists."

Bill watched from the doorway as Susannah went through the pretend ritual of releasing Tom's wrists.

"Tom, I want you to separate your wrists now. The ties are gone."

Tom pulled his wrists apart. His arms fell limply to his stomach.

"My back hurts and my backside. It got all cut and burned. The hands rubbed salt in and it hurts extra," Tom wept.

"Okay honey," Susannah said as she gently turned him on his side. "Tom, I'm going to rub my hand on the wounds and count to three and they will go away and stop hurting when I get to three."

Susannah counted slowly and gently ran her hand back and forth across his back and past his buttocks. Tom rolled back over on his own.

"Honey, did it stop hurting?" Susannah asked.

Tom nodded as some tears continued to fall.

Sam and Viki saw him struggle to sit up. They helped him. Tom reached out for Susannah. She took him in her arms and he snuggled against her.

"The hands hurt my mom," he whispered. "They cut her mouth and hurt her eye." Then in an even lower whisper he confessed, "My mom got hurt like Timmy gets hurt. I didn't help her. I was too scared to help her."

Susannah felt her shoulder get wet with Tom's tears. "Honey, you were just a little boy. You couldn't stop grownup hands from hurting your mom. No little boy or girl could do that."

"I should have helped her," Tom insisted.

These last words were slurred. Susannah felt Tom go limp against her body. She laid him back down and examined him. Physically, the nightmare and flashback didn't seem to have done much harm. Susannah covered him up and stroked his head. She looked at Sam and Viki. Both looked like they had just been in a train wreck. Susannah realized, in a way, they had been. She ordered more than asked them to go to the cafeteria for something to eat and drink. She said she would stay with Todd. Viki started to protest, but Sam said, "Please, for me." They quietly left.

Bill patted Sam on the back as he passed by him. Bill came into the room and pulled a chair next to the one Susannah was sitting in by Todd's bed.

"What just happened here?" Bill asked. He was horrified by what he had just heard.

"Tom's nightmare turned into a flashback," Susannah answered.

"I know you explained to me that they actually experience things that happened to them over and over again, but I could never imagine it would be like that. It was like watching him being beaten and burned and not be able to do anything. My God! I'm a cop! I wanted to grab his father off of him and throw his sorry ass into jail, but the man is already dead!" Bill was exasperated. His anger and frustration made him want to punch a hole in the wall.

Susannah understood the confusing thoughts and feelings Bill was having. She knew it was hard to separate Tom's very real flashback from something that was not really happening now. Impossible for Tom, and difficult for an observer. She also understood Bill's need to "get the bad guy," and Peter was as bad as they come.

"Do you think Peter raped and sodomized the mother?" Bill asked.

"Yes, I think he did, on that night and many others. I think many of the alters saw it happen on different occasions," Susannah answered.

"I know the mother failed to protect him and abandoned him, but you have to feel for her," Bill stated.

"I do. My heart breaks for the life Barbara had. It just breaks a whole lot more for her child," Susannah admitted, as she stroked Todd's head.

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