a) Spoilers for Season One. b) RecoilandGrace is 24 kinds of awesome. I counted. x

She remembers exactly where everything was; every sunflower on the wall, every stuffed animal on the shelf, every stain on the carpet. Sleep deprived hands had proven clumsy.

She also remembers it in its current state; after Alec had crashed through it, emotions and voices running high. He'd thrown remaining clothes and diapers in a pile on the floor, tossed toys into boxes and pulled drawers clear from the unit. All as Gillian stood screaming at him from the doorway, unable to cross the threshold.

He screamed back at her to get out, to get a grip, to stop shouting at him.

When he had moved to the crib, she had charged at him, pushing him away and into the far wall. His eyes had narrowed, breath shallow and audible as he spun and reached for the photograph of he and Gillian that had watched over their sleeping daughter.

He pulled it away from the wall, it crashed to the floor breaking the glass and taking a strip of wallpaper with it.

Gillian's fists pounded into his back, begging him to stop, telling him it was too soon, that she hated him.

He pulled her wrists and threw her into the wall, screamed just inches from her face that "She's never coming back, Gillian! She's gone!"

He slammed the door behind him, leaving her to slide down the wall, hugging her knees to her chest as the sobs became almost painful. She pulled a stuffed owl toy from the floor into her and buried her head into its fur.


Gillian steps into the room, her fingers smoothing across the engraved oak of the crib. There is still the ugly strip of plaster on the wall, the photograph propped up against it with a layer of glittering dust.

She had gone around the room that night, tidying in Alec's wake after the last tear she could physically shed had dried. She had packed the boxes with the toys, the clothes, the diapers.

She takes the owl toy from the corner of the crib, the covers neatly folded. She gives it a squeeze and brings it to her nose in the hope it still smells like her baby. It doesn't.

Tucking the toy into the top box, she carries what she can to her car. With one last look to the house, she closes the door and goes home.