It's cold. That's the only thing you know, stuck in this room somewhere in the cold, surrounded by whispers and giggles from a woman who has your child. Your Rose. And your husband, so she says. It's cold, inside your heart and outside your body at the thought of losing the family you only just got back. And then, out of the silence, footsteps. Rushed, desperate footsteps so different from the Mother's. Around the edge of the doorz which opens with a slow creak, steps Ethan. Dishevelled, injured, dirty, bloodied, Ethan. Your husband, Ethan. "Baby?"