I get out of the car and walk around the back. I pick Darcy up from her car seat and carry her inside. I open the door and carry the sleeping child to her bed and gently lay her down. I push her light brown hair back and slightly smile.

"Sweet dreams princess." I whisper before getting up and leaving her room, cracking the door. I walk to the living room and wrap my arms around Emmett. He returns the favor and rubs my back. I squeeze my eyes shut and sigh.

"It's alright, babe." He whispers. "It's alright."

"She's not going back. That bitch can try all she wants, she's not going back." I state.

"Try to relax, you don't have to stress over it. There's nothing she can do." He says.

"She's still gonna fucking try." I retort. "That's just going to put stress on the baby. She's too little to have to deal with stuff like this, Emmett."

"Allison, Harper doesn't even have a case. She can't do anything, and Darcy just wants to get out of there. Have Charlie sign the papers and it's over." He says.

"I'll do it tomorrow. But I'm gonna call Spencer and see if he feels like watching Darcy, since he's on leave." I state. I hear tiny footsteps and turn my head. "What's the matter babe?"

"I left my skittles at Harper's." She huffs. "I was sleeping, but then I remembered I left my skittles behind so I woke up. And Bear Bear is still in the car."

"I'll go get Bear Bear." Emmett sighs before walking to the car.

"Come on, kiddo. It's late." I pick her up and grab a small bag of skittles before carrying her back to her room.

"I have Bear Bear." Emmett tosses the stuffed rabbit to me and I give it to Darcy. Bear Bear is a bright green, fluffy, stuffed rabbit that Garcia got Darcy when she was born. Bear Bear didn't have a name until Darcy started talking. And heaven forbid she go to sleep without it.

"Get some sleep, tomorrow's gonna be a long day." I say before kissing her forehead and walking toward Emmett. She yawns before rolling over and falling asleep. Emmett and I go to our bedroom and I plop down on the bed. "Do you think I can take a whole bottle of vistaril and still be fine?" I ask.

"I mean you're already dead, so you can't overdose if that's what you mean." He replies laying beside me.

"But would it work?" I look at the ceiling.

"I don't know." He says.

"Does alcohol work?" I turn my head to look at him.

"That I know for a fact does work. But not the best choice." He states.

"But it's guaranteed to work." I say opening the bottom of my nightstand and pulling out a bottle of 18 year old Scotch. I rip off the lid and take a long drink.

"You'll regret this in the morning." He warns rolling onto his side.

"I don't care." I state.

"You say that now." He mutters. I take another long sip of the alcohol before leaning against the pillows.

"Emmett?" I look over at him.

"Yes princess?"

"If you could go back and you had the chance to change anything, would you?" I ask.

"Not at all." He replies. "If you change one thing, it changes everything else."

"Not always."

"If I had gotten you out of that house any sooner, we wouldn't be laying here right now. You'd be in the hospital, dying." He pauses. "It wouldn't be forever, it'd be about 70 years, then I'd be alone. Or if I hadn't shown up when I did all of those times, I'd be alone." He pauses again. "I'd never change anything, take anything back, because it would result in losing you."