Her time at Allerdale Hall, Crimson Peak, had not left Edith Cushing-Sharpe's body peacefully. It dug in its sharp claws and refused to be be removed. After the events that took place, Thomas' death and the chase and killing of Lucille Sharpe, Edith was not one-hundred percent herself. She knew God shown on her when she was found and rescued by Alan McMicheal at Allerdale Hall. She tried to leave all her memories and feelings behind with the slowly sinking mansion, but one lingered with her after she passed her fingers through Thomas Sharpe's ghostly figure. Crimson Peak was not through with her.

Edith had returned back to Buffalo, New York, with Alan shortly after the two escaped Allerdale Hall and returned to the real world. Back in the United States of America, the bustling industrial city and all its people, Edith slowly slipped back into her old life after she spent a long time recuperating. Nightmares plagued her dreams at night. Ghostly shadows in her room scared her to the point she hid under her covers to sleep at night. She spent her days in the sun of the garden on the side of the Cushing mansion, she walked the streets and admired everything through the storefront windows. She would sit on park benches and read books quietly to herself and she would watch the butterflies as they had returned with the warming days of late spring.

Edith had also returned to working on her novel on a typewriter in her own home. After her experience at Allerdale Hall, she edited her story. She knew more about ghosts, of what they stood for. Ghosts were around, not to harm, but to help and show her the way. She also experienced and knew love. Her heart, regrettably enough, ached every time she thought back on the innocent love she shared with Thomas Sharpe, even though their time together was cut short. He truly loved her and she him.

Two months after she had returned to her old life, having slipped by in her routine and after she had ironed out her paperwork for the Sharpe's, Edith felt sick. She would constantly feel faint and she would catch herself on the back of chairs or the railing of the staircase. The dizzy spells would last weeks at a time and would not cease, nothing would help. Edith also took note of how she ate. She would be able to eat anything one day and the next her stomach would not agree with her. There was only one person she could turn to.

Though Alan McMichael was mainly an optometrist in his profession, he had extensive knowledge of the human body. She remembered him studying hard out of books when they were kids and he had taken leave to London for some time to medical school. Science had always fascinated him.

The following morning, Edith dressed in clothes that she felt most comfortable in. They were not the true style a woman would wear outside of the house, but she did not care, she was not trying to catch the eyes of a suitor, she was not looking for another man. She knocked at Alan's door to his office and he called for her to enter. She turned the knob slowly and floated into the room.

"Edith! Oh, you're looking pale. Have you been taking care of yourself?" he asked as he approached her quickly and took up her hands in his. He healed up well from his time at Allerdale Hall, but he never spoke of it to her. She always wondered how he was able to do that, to bury it all, to keep it bottled up, and not have it overflow. "Here, sit," he led her over to a large comfortable chair with arms and she sank gently down onto it. "What's the matter, Edith? Why did you come to see me?"

"I have not been feeling well as of late," she answered him as her hands smoothed down the collar of her jacket and her dress over her legs. "I've had some dizzying spells and they do not cease for some time."

"Edith," he sighed and she already knew what he had pictured in his mind. That she might faint and fall down her stairs. That could result in severe injury or even death.

"I can take care of myself, Alan," she tried to reassure him. She did not like when he fretted over her well being so intently. She was a grown woman now, now longer the little girl he knew and crushed on.

"When do you experience these dizzy spells, Edith? Is it a certain time of the day?" he began his questions as he sat behind his desk with a sheet of paper and a new fountain pen, ready to write down her symptoms to pull the picture together.

"Mornings are when I feel them the most. My stomach clenches up also and I feel...sick," she blushed as she admitted her bodily functions to him. She had to constantly remind herself that he was her doctor, he needed to know such things to help her.

"And when you feel sick..."

"I have to...make a quick visit to the loo. My breakfast is lost and I cry. I...am easily overcome with strong emotions that wash over me. I cry until my eyes are red and I have no more tears left."

"Yes," Alan nods his head as she tells him her symptoms and he writes them all down on a sheet of paper. "Tell me, do you have any...physical changes?"

"Physical?" she asked him and blinked her hazel eyes are him.

"Umm...yes, any changes in your body. Do you see anything that strikes you as odd when you are dressing and undressing?"

"McMichael," she blushed once more as she felt embarrassed by his questioning. "I...there is one thing."

"What is it, Edith?"

"My lower abdomen. It's...slightly extended. Like...my stomach is growing. I don't eat much these days, food doesn't bring me as much enjoyment as it use to do."

"Your stomach...may I see it?" he asked and she knew he was speaking as a doctor, her doctor, her friend. So she pushed herself up on her feet once more and he came around the front of his desk as her fingers worked on some buttons of her gown and parted the two halves. Underneath she wore a short corset around her breast, keeping them trapped but her stomach free of constriction. She felt heat rush through her as he approached her with his right hand out. His finger tips bushed over her skin and she shuddered. He felt over the area she described as extended, he brought the diaphragm piece of his stethoscope to her stomach and moved the ear pieces into his ear. He listened intently and she tried her hardest not to let out a peep. and then he drew back his stethoscope and she knew the gears in his head were turning. She fixed the buttons of her gown and returned to sitting back down in her chair. "Edith...it's...extraordinary, really."

"What? You know what is wrong with me, Alan?" she asked as she leaned forward in her chair. "Tell me, please. I need to know. I want this to all go away. I want to get back to my life."

"Edith, you're pregnant."

Her heart pounded hard, pumping blood throughout her body, in her ears. She wondered if she had heard Alan correctly. She was glad that she was already sitting, or she would have collapsed to the floor if she were standing on her own two feet.

"Pregnant? As...with child?" she asked her, her mouth felt dry and she constantly had to swallow as she tried to moisten her mouth.

"Yes, Edith," he answered her as he sat back down in his chair behind his desk and keep his soft eyes on her. "Edith, this is good news, you..."

"No, no, it's not," she shook her head quickly and adverted her gaze from him as she looked down at the floor as tears stung at her eyes. This is not the news she expected and not the news she wanted to hear from him. Pregnant, with child. There was only one man who could be the father of her child. Thomas. Thomas Sharpe. He continued to haunt her, even over the sea. She began to cry, her body shuddered and heaved as she leaned forward and covered her face with her hands.

"Edith?" Alan asked, concern in his voice. "Edith...why are you crying? This is good news..."

"It's Thomas'. It's Thomas' baby," she choked on her tears as she back up and removed her hands from her face to look at him. She knew her eyes were red and her cheeks were flushed from the rush of emotion from receiving such news that she was pregnant.

"Edith, Thomas is gone."

"Yes," she tried hard to dry her eyes and explain to him. "We...shared one night together as a couple, back in England. I...must have been that one time was enough to create this child," she spoke as she moved her hand hand over her stomach and closed her eyes. Her mind traveled back on memories of that one night she Thomas shared a true bed together. They stayed in a spare room, stuck due to a freak snow storm that prevented them from returning to Allerdale Hall. That night was like a true honeymoon to her and she had Thomas to herself, away from Lucille's sharp watchful gaze. She and Thomas had shared a special time there together. That one night must have been magical enough that she instantly became pregnant with her late husband's child.

"Edith," Alan spoke lowly in a whisper, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that Thomas is gone, but you now have to look at this as the light in the darkness. He...left you with something to love and that is a piece of him."

"Yes," she put on a smile as she rubbed at her eyes and stood in front of his desk now. "Thank you, Alan. Thank you for telling me what is the matter with me. I...must return home now. There is much...to prepare for."

"Let me help, Edith," he stood now and moved around the end of his desk, held her hands in his. "Let me help you through this. All of this. As your physician and as your friend."

"Thank you, McMichael," she bowed her head in thought of him helping her in preparing to welcome this child into the world. This child that was the last piece of Thomas Sharpe that she could hold, touch, kiss, and love. She blushed as he brought her hands up to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

"The hands of a writer," he smiled at her and tried to take her mind off of being told that she was pregnant. "Edith," he rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles, "you really should rest your hands between your typing on the typewriter."

"It's my passion, Alan..."

"I know," he smiled at her. "Let me take you back home."

"But, don't you have more patients to see?"

"I'm taking my break," he spoke to her as he opened the door and led her out, he spoke to his secretary before they left the building and into a carriage. They rode it back to the Cushing mansion, where he helped her out and up the stairs to her bedroom. Once she entered her room, she spied that it was a mess. She felt embarrassed that he had to see it alike this. She pulled away from him and instantly tried to start straighten her room before a dizzy spell came over her again. He held his hands to her shoulders and lead her to her bed, where he ordered her to lie down. "Edith, you have to not exert yourself now. You have to think of your well being and the well being of your...child," he spoke, embarrassed a little to even have that word come out of his mouth.

"I understand," she nodded her head in agreement as she laid her head down on her pillow and watched him as he straightened her room for her. Her mind was everywhere at once. She had a lot to think about. With bringing a child into the world, this time, she needed to have a nursery constructed in the mansion or one of the adjoining rooms remodeled. She was going to love this child, show it more love than her late husband received when he was just a child.

She watched as Alan cleaned up everything in her room while she did not raise a finger. Once he was done, he came back and sat on the edge of her bed and laid a hand over her forehead.

"Rest up, Edith. Remember, if you need anything, my help for anything, just send word for me and I'll be here in a flash for you," he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek before he ran his fingers through her long golden waves of hair. She gave him a smile.

"I understand. Thank you, Alan. This child...is now my world," she moved a hand over her belly. "I will do anything and everything to protect him."

"A boy?" Alan raised a brow.

"Yes, I have a feeling it is a boy. Just like his...father."

Edith was only at the young age of twenty-four, widowed and had no immediate family to turn to with her new found situation. She was stressed, her mind raced over many things that left her exhausted.

She could be found spending many of hours in her family library, trying to find books or even her mother's journals, about bringing a child into the world. She did not have the first clue or step. And she want to do it right. This child only deserved the best. For days the maids found her slumped asleep in a chair by the fireplace, her glasses slipping off the tip of her nose, a book open in her lap, a stack on the floor and one hand over her stomach. Many of the servants had yet to pick up on her current circumstance and she wished to keep it that way.

Alan came over weekly to check on her progression, which included a physical touch session done in private.

Today she laid on her back on her bed as he pulled over a chair and took a seat. She pulled up the hem of her nightgown and revealed her growing stomach to him. He would rub his hands warm before he would reach out and press against her stomach, searching for any abnormalities or lumps.

"You're coming along quite nicely, Edith," he spoke and gave her a smile, tried to calm her, but her nerves were still rattled at five months.

"I feel much like a balloon with too much air," she replied as she pulled her nightgown back down to hide her skin from him. Though he was her doctor, and her best friend, she felt embarrassed about showing any of her skin to him. "I can feel him moving, Alan," she sat up and shifted her hazel eyes to him. "He...reacts most when I...think of Thomas," she blushed brightly. "Like...he already knows his link to his father," she rubbed her right hand over her belly with a smile on her lips.

"How are you doing, Edith?" he asked her as their eyes met and she understood he was asking her how she was mentally.

"I can still think for myself, Alan. The dizzy spells are gone, along with my sickness. I am fine of mind. I can think for myself," she kept her right hand over her growing belly. "I don't know if I can say the same after this little one is born. Alan...I don't know what I'm doing," she turned to look at him as tears stung her eyes. "No one ever told me about babies...I don't have the first clue as what to do. The books in the library are not helpful and I never found any of my mother's journals. Oh, I am lost!"

"Edith, shhhh," he tried his best to console her, as he moved from his chair, to sit beside her on the bed and wrapped an arm around her. "I told you I would help you. I will help you with all of it, if you'd like. I can ask my mother. She would willing to help."

"No, she won't," she rubbed the back of her wrists to her eyes as she wiped away her tears. "She would look upon me as damaged. A young girl, already widowed, and pregnant with her dead husband's child! I'm like a monster!"

"Edith...I will not allow you to speak this way about yourself. You are no monster," he rubbed his hand up and down her back now. "I...won't mention it is you by name, but I will get some useful information from her. Will that make things better for you?" he kissed her on the cheek and she dropped her hands to her lap.

"Y...yes, Alan. Thank you," she whispered as she stared down at the floor. A lot had to be done, as the babe would be on its way quite quickly.

"I bought something for you while I was out on the town," Edith spoke as she walked into her empty room carrying a bag from a local toy shop in Buffalo.

She set the bag down on her work desk with her typewriter, by the window, warm yellow light streamed through and she had to take a seat from exhaustion from her walk. She pulled out a handmade stuffed animal from the bag, a bunny rabbit, clearly constructed from socks. It had brown paws, which contrasted with its white body, and shiny black bead eyes and nose. A stitch line ran the length of its body, bisecting it. "It just spoke to me," she smiled as she looked the bunny over and laid it on her growing belly. "Do you like it?" she asked the silence and only felt the babe inside shift. "Oh...please...I can't wait for you to give me answers in words instead of your constant tumbling. I know you are excited, I am too. And scared," she whispered the last two words sadly as she looked out her window to the garden below, that was blooming.

"You know, when I was a little girl, my mother and father had a summer cottage along the Great Lakes. I found such solace in that place, among all the grove of trees, it was magical. Like a place where fairies would live. There was a family of rabbits I came across while there, not far from the cottage, and I gave them all names and created stories about their daily lives. I guess that was the start to my love of writing stories," she smiled as she rubbed at her belly.

"I'll tell you a story, would you like that?" she asked as she set the bunny rabbit back up on the table. "A short story, really. Once there was a beautiful, smart young woman who was looking to make a name for herself in the big wide world. One day a sharp, dashing young man came along and he told her such words that raised her heart and soul, and the two fell in love." She paused as she felt her baby shift in her womb happily, the sensation caused her to blush brightly. It was if it knew she was speaking of its father. "They married and moved into his ancestral home across the sea." Another shift, this one a little hard and it left her head spinning. "Okay...I'll stop. No more story. You get too excited, little one."

She laughed softly to herself as she found rubbing her belly had become an addicting habit. She stood up now and walked over to her bed, where she laid down her body and laid the stuffed bunny on her stomach. The babe stopped moving and stayed still and she was happy, the rabbit seemed to give it comfort also. She had done right by buying it when she saw it through the store shop window.

She closed her eyes and pictured her Thomas, as he laid beside her, hand on her belly and whispering soft nonsense words into her ear. She feel tears stream down her cheeks, but she did not care, she had a smile on her lips. "I miss you, my Thomas," she whispered to no one.

Time had not been kind to Edith Sharpe's young body as the changes had started to take over her. As the last few months of her pregnancy progressed, Edith found her nights sleepless. She would spend her nights in her bed, sitting up with pillows, with her chin to her chest and eyes closed. Her babe shifted so much, wanting to come out and play.

She tried all of Alan's suggested remedies, and tea worked the best for her. She would boil a cup for herself and steep the black tea leaves before she would add in some local honey. She would sit at her typewriter and sip her cup of ginger and honey tea as she worked and her babe would settle down its shifting and she would get some work done.

Edith would be able to type out a few chapters before her babe would shift and she would groan as it kicked. She would get up from her chair, keeping a hand under her belly, she would move to her bed to sit. The pregnancy also made her normal walking trips outside less fun, as she found she could not walk as far as she use to and her lower back ached constantly.

"Does nothing please you but your bunny," she paused and leaned her body to grab the sock bunny for her stomach, "and stories of your father?" There was a pause. "Much better," she smiled. Her attention was caught as she heard someone knock on the door and the knob began to jiggle up and down rapidly, much like the times her mother's ghost visited her. Edith braced herself and moved both hands over her stomach, almost as if protecting her unborn.

The door opened and no physical person stood on the other side. Edith released her pent up sigh, but her eyes were drawn back to the door at the sight of a dark and shadowy specter. Its fingers were long and bony, but her face was unchanged from how Edith remembered her, in her long teal blue gown. "Lucille," the name pasted Edith's lips as she could not tear her eyes away from the ghost in front of her who glided over the floor towards her.

"Thomas' child," her right arm stretched out, her fingers long, touched against Edith's stomach. She looked back up into Lucille's face, saw pain and sorrow there. A mask she use to don when she was alive, but Edith felt this was real.

"My child," she answered and felt her body began to shake in terror.

"He will be special. He will be a Sharpe," Lucille spoke and made eye contact with Edith before her incorporeal form passed through her body and left her feeling sick.

Edith quickly pushed herself up off her bed, stood in the middle of her bedroom, the floor beneath her was wet with water as it dribbled down her legs. She was frozen in place when Alan appeared at her door.

"Edith!" he ran to her side and leaned her body against his to support her as they moved together and he lead her back to the bed. The maids rushed in a second later. "Towels! I need all the fresh linen and a large basin of warm water," he ordered them and the maids quickly rushed away from the room. "You're going to be alright, Edith," he laid a hand over her forehead. "Your water broke. Your baby is on its way out to see the world. To see you."

Edith feared she may bite off her own tongue as she gritted her teeth through the pain that wracked through her body. It had all started when Lucille's spirit pass through her. It felt as if Lucille wanted her to suffer through the pain of her own labor and the loss of her child with Thomas. To share the horror and it plagued Edith.

Hot tears streamed down Edith's rosy cheeks as she squeezed her eyes tightly closed. Alan had her on her own bed, laid on her back with her knees up. She was not expecting a home birth. She planned that she would give birth in one of Buffalo's fine hospitals, but there was no way she could get to one of them now.

The maids had been rushing in and out of the room for the past hour, bringing new towels and carried away bloodied ones. She was loosing blood faster than she thought. Knowing something must be wrong. They brought everything Alan ordered of them, a pair of the finest scissors in the house and change of warm water. The thought of her best friend looking betwixt her legs, her nightgown pushed up around her hips, sent Edith down a spiral of embarrassment. She covered her face with her hands and whimpered softly at the pain deep in her womb. Her babe did not wish to be born and yet had to be delivered, and soon.

"A...Alan...I don't know how much more I can take of this," she huffed and brought her hands down to look at the pensive look on his chiseled face. "It is clawing at my insides..."

"Edith, you're doing just fine. It will be delivered, soon," he tried his best to comfort and console her, though she knew he was in just as much pain as her. His job solely comprised of delivering her baby, keeping it alive and keeping her alive.

When Edith was researching books about expecting a child, she learned of many childbirth deaths, of both babe and mother. The numbers were frightening and set Edith on edge. She squirmed, shifted her hips and closed her legs tightly as pain shot through her spine and left her gasping for her breath. Alan's large hands on her knees brought her back around.

She was wracked with fever, her body was hot to the touch and she felt sick. She felt herself slip into a hallucination. Once more she saw Lucille standing not far from her bed, still and floating above the floor. Edith wanted to call to Alan, in hopes that he would see Lucille too, but no words came from her mouth. All she could do was stare at the specter that held her in a trance.

"Edith...you will suffer, suffer my pain...but you shall not suffer my loss. You are my sister. You will live. The world of spirits does not need you." At that, Lucille disappeared and Edith gasped, her body seized.

"EDITH," Alan called as he moved his hands to her cheeks and patted them. "Come on, wake up, wake up!"

Her eyes fluttered open to look up at him. "She wants me to suffer her pain. I have felt it, Alan. I know the pain," she whimpered. He just nodded his head and returned to his task as the time ticked by on the grandfather clock in her bedroom. Edith passed out several times, the last time she came to to the sound of a baby wailing. Tears stung at her eyes once more, this time in happiness. She witnessed as Alan produced the small babe, wet and crying, from her very being. He cut the umbilical cord and wrapped it tight before he washed and bundled up her baby. He smiled at her softly as he brought the bundle to her breast and she took it into her arms.

"It's a boy, Edith. You had a baby boy."

"My boy," she kissed his cheeks and he snuffled in protest. She took in the sight of his curly black hair on the crown of his head. And when he opened his eyes, they were as green as the sea. Her heart pounded hard in her chest as she saw so much Thomas in her little baby. "Thomas. I shall call him Thomas." Her heart hoped that would give Lucille's spirit a little soulas.

"You should rest up now, Edith," Alan spoke to her softly and she broke her gaze away from the babe in her arms. "You lost a lot of blood. I stopped the bleeding, but you should stay in bed and rest up. Eat and drink to regain it back."

"Thank you. Thank you, Alan," she smiled up at him as she patted a space on the bed, next to her, for him to sit. He did, after a short hesitation. "You are the best friend a girl ask for. A woman will be lucky to have you."

"Edith, you flatter me," he smiled back as he leaned in to give the babe a kiss too. "He was a fighter, but now he's here. You...picked a fitting name for him, Edith."

"He looks so much like his father, I couldn't not call him Thomas. He will grow up with me, and we shall always be together," she whispered to the small babe in her arms. "I love you, Thomas."