First of all, I'm so sorry it's taken me SO long to update...to all who have been following along, thank you for your patience. - RW

Deacon was just about to set his book down when his phone buzzed. He looked over at Rayna, asleep in bed next to him, picked up the phone and answered it.

"Hey, Scarlett," he started. "What...slow down, honey. What's going on?"

He listened, her voice panicked as she told him about the pain, the blood on her sheets.

"I'm on my way," he replied, then ended the call.

"Ray?" he said as he touched Rayna's shoulder.

"Huh?" she said, sleepily. She turned her head toward him and moaned. "What, Deacon?"

"Babe, I gotta get over to Scarlett...it's...it's the baby, something's wrong."

Rayna's eyes opened. "Let me come with you."

"No, you stay here, I...I'll call you, let you know what's happening," he replied. "I'm gonna let Daphne know I'm leaving, okay?"

Rayna nodded. "Tell her I'm praying for her."

Deacon leaned in and kissed her forehead. "I will, babe."

Deacon drove as quickly as he dared across the city, willing the lights to keep changing in his favor. Rayna and the girls meant everything to him and Scarlett...well, most days, he thought of her more as a daughter than a niece, especially since Beverly had died. They just had each other and now she was in trouble.

He pulled the truck to a stop in front of his East Nashville house and jumped from the door, leaving the engine running. He quickly made his way into the house where he found her, in the bathroom, where there was more blood. Without words, he picked her up and carried her down to the truck, knowing, as Scarlett did, just how serious this could be.

His phone rang after they got to the hospital, after the doctor had given them the news that the baby had not survived. He looked down. It was Rayna. He sighed. He should have called her, she would have been worrying.

"I'm sorry, babe, I meant to call you, but I just now got back out in the waiting room."

"Deacon, did you...Daphne's been looking for my prescription and it isn't in the kitchen or the bathroom. Did you? You didn't take it with you, did you?" Rayna asked, her voice agitated.

"Did she look in my dressing room?" Deacon replied, trying to imagine where he might have put the bottle. He kept track of it, pretty closely, knowing that she relied on him to keep to her schedule. "But you're not due again for…." He looked over at the clock on the wall. It was nearly 6 am. "Babe, you're due at 8 am. I should be home by then."

"Deacon, I...I had an awful night, I just…"

"Have her look again in my dressing room, by my shaving kit," Deacon responded.

He heard her directing Daphne.

"She found them. Thanks, babe."

He'd hung up before he realized she hadn't asked about Scarlett or the baby. She hadn't seemed to even realize why he wasn't home. He felt a wave of dread wash over him. He recognized this behavior. He knew Rayna was still recovering, that she was in pain, that her anxiety was crippling at times, but he also knew what this single mindedness meant and it was all too familiar.

It's how he felt when he needed a fix.

Deacon pulled up in front of the garage and let out a heavy sigh as he put the truck in park and cut the engine. Scarlett had sent him home, telling him that Gunnar would wait until she was ready to be released and then drive her back to the house in East Nashville. He had tried to get her to come stay with them, but she said she needed to be alone for a bit. This baby, unplanned and unexpected had been deeply loved by her, by Gunnar, by all of them. She had been the one bright spot in the past few months and in just a few short hours was gone.

Deacon eased himself from the truck and walked up to the house, dreading going inside. He would have to tell Rayna and the girls about the baby but even harder, he had to confront Rayna about what he suspected. He hated thinking for a moment that she had been seized by the darkness that had held his life captive for so many years...maybe it wasn't as bad as he thought, but he was afraid for her. Afraid for all of them.

He opened the door and walked into the kitchen, turning on the light. Other than an uncharacteristic pile of dirty dishes next to the sink, nothing seemed terribly out of place. He set his jacket on the stool in front of the kitchen counter and headed upstairs. Halfway up, he started bargaining with himself.

There was no need to wake Rayna up if she was asleep.

Please let her be asleep. Let them just have this one last night, before...before their whole world had to change.

The hallway was quiet. Daphne's door was closed with no light showing underneath it. He could hear music playing softly from Maddie's room. The door to the master bedroom was mostly closed, the room dark.

He pushed the door open, the light from the hallway casting across the bed where Rayna lay. He crossed the room and headed into the bathroom to get ready to join her. As he stood in front of the mirror, he scrubbed his hand across his face. He looked over at Rayna's dressing table. What had happened there?

He crossed over to where her carefully laid out bottles and potions-all the things necessary to keep her skin soft and youthful-were strewn across the table. A prescription bottle was on its side. He picked it up. It was empty. He looked at the label. It was the bottle he'd picked up earlier that week. The one that was supposed to last a month.

He picked up the bottle and stalked into their bedroom, turning the light on next to Rayna's bed.

"Rayna!" he shouted as he leaned down and shook her shoulder. "C'mon, Ray, wake up."

Her face was slack. Her eyes closed.

"Rayna!" he called again, this time sitting down next to her and shaking her more intensely.

"Dad!"

He looked over to the door to see Maddie standing there.

"Come help me," he called to Maddie. "We have to get her up."

Maddie crossed to the bed and put her hand under Rayna's shoulder, as they stood her up. Rayna's head lolled forward, her eyes starting to open.

"Dad! Maddie!" Daphne stood at the door now, her eyes wide open with alarm.

"Go turn on the shower," Deacon instructed Daphne. She ran into the room, crossing into the bathroom and turning the shower on full blast.

"Daph, cold water," Deacon instructed as he and Maddie half carried, half dragged Rayna into the bathroom. He put his arm around Rayna's waist, her arm over his shoulder and pulled her into the shower with him, the cold water pounding down over their bodies.

"Whaaa!" Rayna uttered as the cold water snapped her from her stupor. Deacon stayed under the shower with her as she sputtered and gasped. He knew he should pull her out, but he needed the cover of the water, he didn't want the girls to know he was crying.

Finally, he reached over and turns the cold water off. "Maddie, get me a towel, please."

His arms wrapped around Rayna as he eased her over to the edge of the bathtub and sat her down. He took the towel from Maddie and began to dry Rayna off.

He paused and looked over at the girls. "Go back to your rooms. Let me...let me take care of this."

"Do you...should we call somebody?" Maddie asked, her face creased with worry.

Deacon shook his head. "No, she's...just, please go. I'll...I'll...we'll talk about it in the morning. Just, please go to bed."

Maddie slipped her arm around Daphne's waist and leaned in to whisper something to her younger sister. Deacon watched them leave, then turned back to his wife.

"Rayna. What the hell did you do?"

She looked up at him, then folded forward, vomiting down the towel he'd wrapped her in just a few minutes earlier.

Deacon sighed, then headed to get more towels to start to clean her up.

After a second shower, this one with warm water, he led her back into their bedroom, helping her into bed.

"Deacon…" she moaned, then tried to sit up.

"We'll talk about it in the morning, Ray," he replied. When you're sober, he thought to himself. He watched as she drifted off, this time her breathing regular, not the drugged, labored breaths she'd been taking when he first came in the room. His clothes had dried against his body. He considered changing, then realized he needed to check on the girls. He got up, sighed and walked out into the hall.

Both girls sat on the floor outside the master bedroom door.

"What are you doing here? You should have gone to bed," Deacon said, his voice low.

"What's wrong with her?" Maddie asked.

Daphne snuffed, tears running down her face. "Did I give her too many pills?"

Deacon sighed and slid down the wall to sit next to them. "How many did you give her?"

"Two," Daphne replied.

Deacon slid his arm around her shoulders. "That's exactly how many she should have had. How many were in the bottle?"

"Like 10?" Daphne replied.

Deacon closed his eyes and sighed. He scrubbed his hand across his face and pulled Daphne closer to him. Ten pills. That meant she had taken a lot tonight, but it also meant she'd been doing it for a while.

"I think...I think your mom is in trouble."

"What do you mean?" Maddie asked, her voice low, her brow furrowed.

"Your mom is taking way more medication than the doctors are prescribing," Deacon explained. "I don't think she meant to do it, but I think she's developing a problem."

"Like an addiction?" Maddie asked. "Is this what happened…" her voice trailed off.

Deacon reached across Daphne to take Maddie's hand. "No, it's not the same as me. Your mom, she got hurt and now she's got another kind of illness. And she's a strong person...I...I was weak, again and again."

"But you're strong now," Daphne said, her voice choking with tears. "Right?"

"I am," Deacon replied. "But, we're all gonna have to be strong, okay?"

The girls nodded, brushing away their tears.

"Okay, now you need to get into bed. And I know this is upsetting, but please, try to get some sleep," Deacon said as he eased himself from the floor to a standing position.

Deacon walked back into their room, he looked at Rayna in the bed, then headed into his dressing room in search of something to sleep in. He pulled a t-shirt from his drawer, pulling the button down he'd worn earlier in the day from his body, stiff with the water from the shower, flecks of Rayna's vomit covering the right sleeve. He sighed. Why was this happening to them? To her? They didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve any of it.

And more than anything, he knew how hard it was going to be. For her. For all of them. He pulled his stiff jeans off and slipped into a pair of knit shorts before heading back into the bedroom. He looked at the bed again, then crossed over to the chair in the corner, dropping into it. His body fell forward, his arms on his knees as he watched her sleep, watched her breathe. He was more a spiritual person than a religious one, but tonight...tonight he prayed for peace. For her. For them.