"I'm going to touch the ocean first!"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

"Are not!"

"Boys, stop arguing, please. There's plenty of ocean for everyone, and we're all going together." Her patient words had no effect whatsoever, and Doctor Grace Trevelan-Grey sighed as her two sons continued to bicker.

This was the Greys' first family vacation to the beach. Mia had just turned three, and with the Terrible Twos of their youngest officially behind them, Carrick and Grace had decided it was time to try their first cross-country trip as a family.

And so, this beautiful June afternoon found her and her husband herding their three children over a sand dune towards a Florida beach.

"Last one there is a rotten egg!" Elliot taunted, and with that, he took off down the boardwalk, bare feet pattering against the wood. Christian kicked up his feet in hot pursuit.

"Elliot! No! Carrick, can you-?" She gestured helplessly with the flip-flops in her left hand, and nearly lost her grip on the assortment of towels, floaties, and other beach supplies balanced under that arm. Her other hand clasped Mia's, who looked up at her with bright eyes and a giggle.

Fortunately, Carrick was quick on his feet. Even with a cooler swinging in the crook of one elbow, he immediately caught up with his oldest son, scooped him up, and held him, laughing, upside-down, over his shoulder while he waited for Grace and Mia to catch up.

"Didn't we say we were all going together?" Carrick teased, spinning around so that Elliot spun with him, still laughing. "What happened to that, huh?"

Grace couldn't help a smile, watching her husband play with her eldest son, but she felt her grin fade as her gaze slid to Christian.

Christian. Their middle child, and by far the most challenging. A moment ago he had been a normal eight-year-old boy, racing his brother and trading childish insults, but now he stood stock-still, his gray eyes somber and guarded they followed Carrick and Elliot around and around.

Any other boy might have taken advantage of the sudden absence of his competitor to sprint ahead, but not Christian. The moment Carrick had swooped in on Elliot, Christian had scrambled back a few paces to the spot he now stood rooted to, a safe distance from his playful father. And Grace knew exactly why.

"You know he wouldn't pick you up like that," she murmured as she reached him. He looked up at her voice, but his eyes slid back to Carrick. "He knows you wouldn't like it. He won't do it without your permission. Do you understand?"

Christian nodded, but he didn't relax until Carrick had set Elliot back on his feet. He let out a breath, and Grace's heart ached. She wanted to reach out, to stroke his hair – the one type of touch he tolerated – but with one hand holding tight to Mia's and the other tangled up with the flip-flops, she didn't have a hand free.

"Are we almost there yet?" Elliot asked, breathless and swaying slightly, but beaming with excitement. Carrick smiled and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder while the dizziness subsided.

"Almost," he told him fondly. "Just over this hill. Let's stay together this time, yes?"

"Yes, Dad," Elliot and Christian responded together.

"Rule number one of the ocean:" Grace instructed as they climbed the wooden stairs, "nobody is allowed near the water unless Mommy or Daddy is there. Okay?"

"Okay," her sons answered in unison.

"All right. Here we are!" Carrick announced as they crested the hill.

The next moment, the air was filled with exclamations of awe from the three children.

"Whoaaa!"

"It's so big!"

"I bet it goes on forever!"

"Look, here comes a wave!" Elliot cheered as the large wave broke against the shore.

"A boat! Look Mom, look Dad!" Christian pointed excitedly. Mia squealed and bounced from foot to foot, jiggling Grace's arm up and down.

Grace and Carrick exchanged an adoring look that said, This was worth it. The hassle of packing, of waking three grumpy children before dawn, of spending hours trying to convince said three children to sit quietly on the plane, was all worth seeing their beloved kids' faces as they beheld the ocean for the first time.

"What do you kids say? Want to get a closer look?"

"Yeah!"

"All right, let's find a spot to set up camp!"

Together they trooped down the stairs to the end of the boardwalk and wove between the other beachgoers. It was a beautiful day and the beach was crowded. Nonetheless, they managed to find an empty space not far from the boardwalk.

"All right!" Grace announced. "Let's set up camp, and then we can play."

Carrick set up the beach umbrella while Christian helped Grace stretch out the blanket. Elliot took the opportunity to snatch up the largest boogie board.

"This one's mine!" he declared. "Can we go now?"

"Hold on, mister. Wait until one of us can go with you. And no one is getting in the water without sunscreen."

Elliot groaned loudly and shuffled impatiently from foot to foot while his parents finished setting up. At last, Grace fished a bottle of sunscreen out of the bag.

"Carrick, can you get Mia?" Grace squirted a healthy amount of sunscreen into Carrick's palms, and he set about applying it to their bouncy, giggly daughter. "Christian, Elliot, hold out your hands." They obeyed, and she gave each of them a liberal dollop.

"Make sure you don't miss a spot. Let me know if you need more. The sun's much stronger here than in Washington. You'll burn to a crisp without sunscreen."

Christian carefully spread the lotion over his arms. Elliot, on the other hand, quickly swiped his hands down each limb, then wiped what was left on his belly.

"Done!" he announced, and made to turn for the water.

"Oh no you don't, mister. If you're not going to do it properly, I'll do it for you. Come here."

"Mo-ommm," Elliot protested as she spun him around. Grace squirted more sunscreen into his palm and then hers.

"You do your front – properly this time – and I'll get your back." Elliot grudgingly smeared the additional sunscreen over himself while Grace efficiently slathered his back.

"You're not going to make Christian let you help," he grumbled.

Christian froze, his gray eyes looking at Grace with trepidation and then, reading her face, fixing on Elliot with a scowl.

"Elliot, don't worry about Christian. Worry about yourself," Grace said.

"But it's true," Elliot argued. "You're not going to make him. Why doesn't he have to let you help and I do? I'm older!"

Christian's hands balled into tiny fists, and Grace hurriedly finished applying Elliot's sunscreen, giving Christian a warning look. He and Elliot got into far fewer fights than they used to, but it still happened more often than she would like. To defuse the situation, she gave Elliot a gentle push forward. "You're all set. Just wait a few minutes before going into the water."

Elliot didn't need telling twice; with his mother's blessing, he bounded forward, his grumpiness instantly forgotten as he raced to the shoreline with Carrick and Mia at his heels.

With Elliot gone, Christian relaxed, though his eyes again became wary as they regarded Grace.

She sighed inwardly. "Do you need more sunscreen?" she asked by way of a peace offering. Christian nodded and held out his hands, but, Grace noted, kept his body as far away from her as possible, as though afraid that the logic of Elliot's argument would convince her to seize him too. As soon as she squirted more sunscreen into his hands, he took a step away, still watching her carefully.

"Are you sure you don't want help?" she asked in her gentlest voice.

He nodded emphatically, eyes wide, and took another small step back.

Again Grace sighed inwardly, her heart strings tugging.

"Okay," she said, again in her softest voice. She held her hands up in front of her, and Christian looked somewhat reassured. "I won't help," she promised. "Just make sure you don't miss a spot. Are you sure you can get your whole back?"

Christian nodded and awkwardly reached his hands back, first stretching behind his neck, elbow pointed skyward, then hunched over as he tried to reach the other way, arm twisted with his elbow at his waist. His contorted positions might have been amusing if the whole situation weren't heartbreaking.

This time, Grace couldn't suppress her unhappy sigh. There was no way he was fully covering himself, but she was at a loss for a better solution.

"Finished?" she asked, and was rewarded with Christian's first smile in the last several minutes as he nodded. She couldn't help her answering smile, though sadness still tugged at her heart. "All right, let's join Daddy and your brother and sister."

They spent a blissful family afternoon at the beach. All three children delighted in the ocean. Carrick, Elliot, and Christian each tried their hand at boogie boarding, but Christian soon gave it up in favor of splashing in the ocean with Mia. Hand in hand, the pair of them would tiptoe to the water's edge, and then run back shrieking as a wave rolled in. Mia squealed with delight, and Christian's face shone with happiness as he watched her.

They were a joy to watch, Grace reflected. Christian was such a good big brother to her. In spite of all that he had been through, he still had a beautiful heart.

Later that night, though, the price of the time in the sun was evident. Christian's back was covered in uneven blotches of angry, painful red. Grace had sent Carrick to the store for some cream while she tried to persuade Christian to let her take a closer look.

"Darling, I'm not going to touch. I promise. I only want to look. Can I just look? Please?"

He shook his head rapidly, backing into the corner of their hotel room.

Grace halted, not wanting to make him feel trapped. Instead, she knelt, making it clear that she was not going to move any closer. He watched her, terrified.

"Only look. Not touch. I promise."

He shook his head again and moved farther into the corner, then took a half step forward, his face contorting in pain, as his back pressed against the wall.

"Christian. My darling boy. Have I ever broken a promise to you?" She could hear the pleading in her voice, even though she was putting all her years of practice as a doctor into making it calm and soothing.

He didn't respond, but continued to stare at her with the same petrified expression.

"Have I?" she asked again in the same calming tone.

Christian hesitated, then shook his head jerkily.

Grace glanced behind her. Mia was, thankfully, exhausted from her day at the beach and was sound asleep on one of the beds. Elliot was in the adjoining room, and from the sound of the blaring cartoon noises, making good use of the hotel's TV. So fortunately, there was no audience.

Grace reached over to the dresser and pulled down a beach towel, offering it to Christian.

"Would it help to hold a towel? It's almost like a blanket."

For years after his adoption, Christian had carried his blankie everywhere. Aside from his scars and the clothes on his back, it was the only physical thing he had carried from the house where he had been found with the corpse of his birth mother. He and the blanket had been inseparable in those early years, but at some point, Christian had begun refusing to carry it. Grace wanted to believe it was because he was gaining confidence, coming to trust his family, and learning that he didn't have to live in constant fear, but she suspected that Elliot's teasing had played a role. At moments like this, she wished that he had at least brought it with for times when he needed it.

Now, he hesitated, then slowly leaned forward to pull the towel from Grace's extended hand. He winced as the movement stretched the skin on his back, and he speedily backed into the corner again once he had hold of the fabric. Once there, he held it to his cheek, not taking his eyes off Grace.

"Good," she praised gently. "Very good. My good, brave boy. That helps, doesn't it?"

After a long moment, he nodded, not taking his eyes off hers.

"Good," she said softly. "I'm glad. Would it be okay if I looked now? Just for a minute, and I'll stay right here. I won't move from this spot. All you have to do is turn around and stand there. You don't have to do anything else. Would that be okay?"

Christian looked agonized. He swallowed, his breaths shallow and quick. But when he spoke, it was with a force and authority that belied his trembling frame.

"I want to stand there," he commanded, pointing imperiously.

Relief washed over Grace.

"Of course, my darling boy. Anything you need." She stepped back to give him space to walk around her, which he did, never looking away from her.

Grace knew why he had chosen that spot. It was at the juncture between the walkway and the space between the two beds, giving him paths for escape should he feel he had to run. Grace forced her lips up into a reassuring smile even though she felt like crying.

"Stay right there," Christian ordered, eyes narrowed, and Grace nodded her acquiescence. She would not have accepted that tone of voice from either of her other children, or even from Christian under any other circumstance.

But he was frightened, and when he was frightened, it was best to let him feel that he was in control. It calmed him down like nothing else.

"I'm watching you in the mirror," he warned, eyes still narrowed, and she nodded again.

At long last, he turned, glaring at her until the last possible second, and then immediately fixated on her in the mirror on the back of the door.

Now facing away from her, she could see the muscles in his tiny back bunched with tension. His breathing became shallow once again, and contrary to his promise, Grace could see in the mirror that his eyes were scrunched shut tightly, as if he were expecting a blow at any moment. His legs trembled, and he clutched the towel tightly to his side.

Grace had to suppress a gasp at the sight of his back. He really had been burned. It was plain to see where he had managed to spread the sunscreen and where he had been unable to reach. The flesh in those areas was scarlet, and it looked like he even had a few blisters bubbling on his upper back. His scars stood out even more than usual against the scorched skin.

And all because he had been too afraid to let her help. She felt a lump rise in her throat, but before she could say anything, there was a beep and a click, and Carrick was pushing open the door.

Christian's eyes flew open, and he jumped into the space between the two beds, his gaze swinging between his mother and father.

"Hello, Christian. Hello, Grace. What's the diagnosis?"

She shook her head. "The sun really did a number on him. How does it feel, Christian?"

"Fine," he said, his voice quiet but defensive.

She shook her head again, then addressed Carrick. "Did you find anything?"

He held up a tube of aloe vera. "Will this work?"

"Yes, that should help. Thank you, dear." She walked forward and kissed him on the cheek, taking the tube from him. Then she walked to Christian and knelt in front of him while Carrick watched.

"Sweetheart, this will help with the pain from the sunburn. It will feel cool and soothing." She hesitated, watching his face. She tried so hard not to push his boundaries, but it was agonizing to see him in pain. She had to ask….

But Christian, reading the question in her face, narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips in a stubborn set. He stuck out his hand.

With a sigh, she handed over the tube.

"Are you sure you don't want help? You're going to have a difficult time reaching all those spots."

"I can do it myself."

She gazed at him a moment longer, but knew this was a battle she would not win.

"All right," she said, holding up her hands in a nonthreatening gesture. "Why don't you go in the bathroom so you can use the mirror? And we're right here if you change your mind."

He nodded, but she thought she caught a fleeting glimpse of something that looked almost like longing in his eyes. Rising partway, she lifted her hand and held it over his head so he knew what she intended to do. His eyes darted from her hand to her face, and he relaxed, bowing his head in consent. She reached out and stroked his hair, and he relaxed further. This was allowed.

"Thank you for letting me look," she murmured. "It was very brave of you."

Christian didn't respond, but several emotions flitted across his face. Anger? Shame? Disgust?

Grace stood up and backed away so Christian could pass her, and sadly watched as he retreated to the bathroom. He was getting old enough to know that for most children, it wouldn't have been brave at all, and it was clear he hated himself for it.

She drifted after him, stopping partway to the bathroom so she could watch his reflection in the mirror. He never closed doors if he was alone in a room.

Carrick joined her where she leaned against the wall. "Are you sure we shouldn't push him more?" he murmured as they watched Christian climb up to stand on the toilet.

"He'll manage. It's just spreading on the cream. He's done more complicated things on his own before," she whispered.

"I don't mean just this," Carrick muttered. "I mean in general. He can't go through life like this. What if he ever gets sick, or really injured, and needs to be touched? What about when he grows up? How will he ever have a normal relationship?"

She grimaced, but stood firm. "We can't. It would destroy him."

Carrick sighed. "By the way, he's not managing this," he pointed out. "He couldn't reach those places before, so how is he supposed to reach them now? He's going to fall off the toilet and crack his head open trying."

Grace had nothing to say to this. It was true; he was balanced precariously on the toilet lid, wobbling as he twisted his head around to see himself in the mirror, wincing in pain as he struggled and failed to reach the places he had missed earlier.

Carrick continued. "Doctor Brown says that specific phobias are one of the easiest mental disorders to treat. Exposure therapy is very effective."

"But at what cost?" Grace responded. "It's terrifying for the patient. Christian has spent half of his life in terror. He's only just starting to feel safe, to trust us. It would be a monstrous betrayal to subject him to that kind of distress now." She sighed. "Even if it might do him good in the long run." It wasn't like she didn't have her doubts. She wanted what was best for Christian, but what was best?

Her husband sighed, too. "I wouldn't want to overwhelm him," he said. "I just don't see the point in taking him to all these psychiatrists if we're not going to follow their advice."

She shook her head. "He's just not ready for that," she said softly. The lump rose in her throat again as Christian's lips parted in a silent cry of pain, but she continued. "He has to want it enough to make enduring the therapy worth it. He's not at that point yet. He just needs more time."

Twenty-eight-year-old Christian leaned his head back in bliss, savoring the warmth of the Caribbean sun. Had it been this wonderful the last time he was here, or was it better now because he was on his honeymoon?

"Another gorgeous day," murmured the woman beside him. She looked up at him with a dazzling smile and eyes that matched the shining water around them.

"Another gorgeous day with a gorgeous wife, Mrs. Grey," he responded, nuzzling his nose against hers. "What would you like to do today?"

Ana grinned. "I don't know that I'm up to anything too strenuous after last night. Or, technically this morning, by the time we finished. Especially if I want to be recovered in time for another round tonight." Her eyes sparkled playfully.

"In that case, I certainly don't want you to overexert yourself," Christian responded, amused. Inside, his heart gave a tiny leap of joy, as it did every time Ana made any reference to wanting him that way. He didn't understand how he had gotten so lucky. "What would you suggest, then?" he asked, pulling himself back into the present.

"A day just relaxing in the sun, maybe? We could enjoy the ocean air, and I could work on a manuscript, and you can read that boring economics book you're so absorbed in."

He kissed the tip of her nose. "It's not boring, Mrs. Grey."

"I'll take your word for it, Mr. Grey." She kissed him back on the lips. "Shall we get changed and head to shore?"

"Ready when you are," he replied.

An hour later, they were settling into chairs on a pristine beach, surrounded by the sounds of seagulls crying and waves crashing and children playing. Ana pulled a bottle of sunscreen from her purse, and they passed it back and forth between them.

"Get my back?" Ana asked coyly, sweeping her hair over one shoulder and looking back at him with an alluring gaze.

"With pleasure, Mrs. Grey," he purred. With deliberate slowness, he rubbed the sunscreen into her back, marveling at the softness of her skin, teasing her as he traced his finger under her bikini ties.

"Thank you, Mr. Grey," she giggled when he had finished, then brightened further. "Your turn?" She held up the sunscreen expectantly, and Christian felt his muscles go still.

"That's all right, I can do it myself." He kicked himself as her face fell.

"Are you sure?" she asked, disappointed.

The truth was he wasn't. Though he was confident he could at least do a better job than his eight-year-old self, covering every square inch of his own back was hard. His plan had been to do the best he could, and then lie down face-up and stay under the shade of the umbrella as much as possible.

But he couldn't bring himself to take it back.

Ana's eyes were probing. "You've made so much progress lately," she said gently.

He had made a lot of progress. He'd come so far. From being unable to tolerate practically any touch, to being okay with his arms, his shoulders, and finally – only with Ana – the forbidden zones, the areas where the scars marked his chest and back.

"This isn't so different, surely?" Ana was puzzled, and he hesitated, reflecting.

Why was it different? She had been touching his chest more frequently lately, but she'd not had as much reason to touch his back. Not like this. Grabbing at his back during sex was different than thoroughly and methodically touching him all over. Applying enough pressure to rub in sun lotion was different from the feather-light touches and kisses she liked to trail along his chest. Turning his back on her – unable to even see her face – was different from being able to watch her carefully as she stroked his chest, able to anticipate her every move.

And then, they were on a public beach. If the darkness took over – if he gave in to full-blown panic – there would be an audience.

He swallowed, not sure how to put all this into words. Ana put him out of his misery.

"It's all right if you don't want to," she told him. "It's just that I love you, and I swore to cherish you, and cherishing you means not letting you get burned to a crisp in the sun."

He sighed. She wouldn't be the first person to feel responsible for taking care of me, but be unable to do it because of my fucked-upness, he thought.

Resigned, Ana closed the bottle and held it out to him. He hesitated, then pushed it back to her.

"Let's try," he whispered.

She blinked, then her face split into a joyous smile.

"Really? Are you sure?"

He took a deep breath and nodded.

Ana beamed at him. "Shall we sit down?"

Christian sat on the end of his lounge chair, and Ana climbed up behind him. He heard the pop of the cap re-opening and tensed.

"Slowly, please," he instructed tersely. "And start at the bottom. You remember where-?"

"The lipstick?" Ana whispered. "I remember. I'll start below the line."

He flinched as the cool lotion made contact with his skin, even though it was technically outside the forbidden zone. This really was different, staring straight ahead with her behind him, and not even a bathroom mirror for him to watch what she was doing.

She finished with his lower back and paused. Though he couldn't see her, he could sense her hand hovering, asking permission to continue.

He took another breath – which he hadn't realized he had been holding – and choked out a "Go ahead." When she hesitated, he prodded, "Really. I'm fine. I want this. It's…time."

Slowly, and ever so gently, she rubbed the cream in small circles, working her way up from his lower back.

Christian could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and, realizing he was screwing his eyes shut, forced himself to open them and blow out a breath of air in a long, steady stream. The darkness stirred deep inside him, but he fought it down with thoughts of Ana.

Think about her. Think about how gentle and innocent she is. He pictured her eyes, bright blue and guileless, and thought how impossible it would be for someone so kind and pure to hurt anyone.

And think how worth it it will be if you can get through this. As terrified as he had been, in the beginning, to let her touch him, he had needed it desperately, and now that they'd broken down the barrier of his chest, he couldn't get enough. It was so wonderfully intimate, to let her touch him where he was vulnerable and be able to trust her not to take advantage of it.

She was halfway up his back now. He could feel her fingers trembling slightly, could hear the shakiness of her breathing.

Weeks ago, she'd said she hated to see him hurt and afraid. This was another hard part of letting her touch him – aside from his own fear and pain, he wrestled with guilt over causing her to feel pain.

Evidently she decided the silence was too much. "I'm surprised you've never run into this situation before," she said lightly. "What do you usually do when you need sunscreen?"

Despite the warm air, he shivered. "It was a problem," he admitted quietly. "I was badly sunburned on a vacation to Florida when I was a kid. My mom especially was pretty upset. After that, my parents made me wear a swim shirt whenever we went to the beach."

Her hands stilled. "Oh. I'm so sorry."

She seemed at a loss for words. She was just getting to his scars now, and fell silent again. He heard another squelch as she squirted more sunscreen into her hand, and then she was touching him again, somehow even gentler than before. He gasped and screwed up his eyes, and Ana's hand paused.

"Okay?" she asked softly.

He forced himself to let out another breath. "Give me a minute." He couldn't bring himself to open his eyes this time, and several long moments passed.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ana broke the silence tentatively. "You've already done so much. You don't have to do everything all at once. It's okay to go one step at a time. To walk before you run."

Christian drew another shuddering breath. Ana's words weren't enough to banish the darkness entirely, but they seemed to numb it a little.

"I'm okay," he said when he was reasonably sure he could speak without choking on the words. "Just give me another minute."

There was another pause, then Ana drew in a quiet, sharp breath.

"I have an idea," she said, and there was an undercurrent of excitement in her voice.

"Do you now?" he responded, eyes still closed, trying to force his breathing to slow to normal. Though he couldn't see her, he knew she was nodding enthusiastically when she next spoke.

"I do. What if you told me exactly where to move my hand? I wouldn't move an inch without your explicit instructions. You'd be in charge. You could think of my hand as yours, except you control it with your voice instead of your nervous system. Would that make it easier?"

He considered, then felt his lips turn up in a relieved smile. "I like that idea. You are brilliant as always, Mrs. Grey."

"We aim to please," she replied, and he thought she sounded relieved. "Whenever you're ready, Mr. Grey. I am at your command."

He took a deep breath. "Start with my left shoulder," he ordered.

Wordlessly, she touched where he instructed, and gently rubbed in the lotion.

"Move to the right. Now a bit more…now a bit more…"

They continued this way, Christian relaxing incrementally with each movement, until at last, Ana withdrew her hand.

"Done," she whispered. "Are you okay?"

He considered. Faint tremors still ran through his body, his limbs twitching subtly and out of his control. He hated being out of control.

But at the same time, he felt light, triumphant, even a little proud. A swelling feeling of joy was blossoming in his chest like a balloon. He turned around, kissed Ana fervently, and held her tightly in his arms.

"I'll live, baby," he murmured, nuzzling his nose against hers. He opened his eyes to see her watching him, her own eyes glistening with tears. He took a deep breath and forced his lips into a shy smile. "You know," he said, taking the bottle from her, "this says you're supposed to reapply every two hours. Would you do me the honor, Mrs. Grey?"

With a relieved laugh, she threw herself into his arms and kissed him hard.

"Any time. Christian."

Grace felt her eyes crinkling into a happy smile as her middle child and his family rounded the corner of her house, chattering and laughing.

It was a gorgeous summer day, and with Christian's arrival, all her children and grandchildren were in one place. There was no better feeling in the world.

"Grandpaaaaaa!" shrieked Teddy, and with a face-splitting grin, he sprinted across the terrace to throw himself into Carrick's knees.

"Hey there, Teddy! How's it going, buddy?" Carrick seized Teddy by the ankles and swung him back and forth, laughing as Teddy squealed in delight.

Christian and Ana reached them a few moments later.

"Sorry about that, Dad," he said, grinning, as he accepted a breathless Teddy from Carrick. "There's no holding him back."

Grace beamed at the beautiful sight before her. When Christian was a child, she had scarcely dared hope that he would reach this level of happiness. But here he was – grinning a carefree smile as he held a giggling toddler to his chest. Though Christian wasn't the one who had just been dangled upside-down, his copper hair matched his son's precisely in both shade and state of disarray.

Beside him was a miracle of a woman – the one person who had been able to reach Christian in a way that no one else had. Cradled in her arms was Grace's youngest grandchild. Her hair – fine, blond, and wispy – looked like neither of her parents'. But when the infant opened her eyes to blink sleepily at her, it was plain that Ana had gotten her wish that at least one of their children should inherit her husband's gray eyes.

They were the picture of a perfect family.

Ana, watching Grace, smiled and said, "Would you like to hold her?"

"Please," Grace said, and gratefully accepted the warm bundle. Phoebe, now fully awake, looked up at her happily, her mouth opening in an adorable soundless laugh.

The precious moment was interrupted by the ominous humming of the Jaws theme. Grace looked up to see Elliot creeping towards Christian and Teddy, holding an inflatable shark in front of him, a wicked grin on his face.

Teddy squealed and squirmed out of Christian's arms, then took off running and laughing as Elliot chased him.

"So when are we going to see this pool of yours?" Christian hollered after Elliot.

"Whenever you're ready, bro!" Elliot shouted back, pursuing Teddy around and around a table.

Carrick and Grace had just installed a luxurious in-ground pool in their backyard, courtesy of Elliot's construction company. With all their children out of the house and starting families of their own, they had hoped it would entice them all to come back together on warm summer days. This was the grand opening.

"It's amazing!" Mia called from the pool deck, bouncing excitedly. "Come on down!"

Grace couldn't help but smile. Mia was irrepressible as she had always been, and, unable to wait for the rest of the family, she had dragged her husband Ethan down to look at the pool as soon as they arrived. The small but noticeable bulge in her belly wasn't slowing her down a bit.

Ana took Phoebe back from Grace, and together, the rest of the Greys trooped down to the pool. Carrick lifted the latch on the gate – of course it was surrounded by a fence, with so many young grandchildren running around – and with a flourish, stepped back to allow everyone else to file in.

The air filled with oohs and ahs as everyone admired the pool.

"You've really outdone yourself this time, Lelliot," Christian said, thumping him on the back, and Elliot grinned appreciatively.

Grace smiled fondly at her sons, and pride filled her as she scanned over the pool.

Elliot really had done an excellent job. The pool was gorgeous. Instead of a standard rectangular or circular pool, Elliot had suggested a freeform design. The resulting shape looked natural, as if it was meant to be. The meandering edges formed little alcoves here and there while leaving plenty of open water for swimming. One recess was shallow enough for the toddlers to splash around in, but at its deepest, the pool was large enough for a full-grown man to leap off the diving board. The pool deck consisted of large slabs of rock, and a pile of artfully stacked, large stones formed an outcropping from which a slide descended. Around the pool were clusters of chairs and tables with umbrellas.

"It's wonderful. Fantastic job, Elliot. Congratulations Grace, Carrick," Ana said.

"Thank you Ana, dear," Grace said warmly, while Carrick nodded.

"Well, what are we waiting for? I declare this pool officially open!" Carrick announced.

The assorted crowd cheered, and Elliot gave a whoop.

"Don't have to tell me twice!" He tossed the inflatable shark on the water, and, taking a running start, leapt from the side of the pool in a spectacular cannonball. It spattered them all with water droplets, but everyone laughed, even Kate and Ana, who had to turn to shield the infants in their arms from the water.

The families broke off to separate tables to set down their things. Mia had already claimed the table closest to the gate, and Grace left the next one to Kate and Elliot, who had a diaper bag and other supplies to unload. She and Carrick took the table farthest from the gate, the smallest one, but the one nearest the small hot tub also cut into the stones.

Christian and Ana split off to the other side of the pool, taking a table near the steps to the water slide, and Grace watched them fondly and with some amusement.

But the feelings that overwhelmed her most were the warmth and joy that filled her as she watched Christian prepare his children for a day at the pool. Christian had a beautiful heart; she had always known this, from the moment she had first laid eyes on him. But even she never would have guessed how well fatherhood would suit him. Even from here, he could see his eyes shining with love and affection as he tried to persuade Teddy to put on his water wings, his face lit up with a tolerant, infectious smile.

Things were a bit less peaceful up-close to Christian's side of the pool.

"I don't want to," Teddy was saying grumpily.

"You have to, little man. Let's put on your water wings and then we can play in the new pool, okay?"

"Actually," Ana interjected, "let's put on some sunscreen, and then the water wings, okay?" She had just finished dabbing lotion onto Phoebe's cheeks. Having again fallen asleep, however, Ana had placed her in her car seat, where she seemed likely to spend the rest of the afternoon dozing under the cheerful baby hat Mia had given them at her baby shower.

"I wanna do it!" Teddy jutted out his chin stubbornly and imperiously held out his hand. With a sigh, Ana squirted sunscreen into her own palm and then handed him the bottle.

"You can do it, Teddy, but let Daddy help you if you need it."

"I can do it," he said obstinately. Though Christian was still smiling fondly at his son (and despite the delectable sight before him of his wife smoothing sunscreen over her own skin), he felt a twinge of sadness at Teddy's assertion.

Lately Teddy had been insisting on doing everything himself, from putting on his shoes to picking out his clothes to answering the phone whenever it rang. Ana assured Christian that this was a normal phase for toddlers, but he couldn't help a tiny stab of regret whenever Teddy refused his help. Particularly for tasks that he was too young to do himself, no matter how much he insisted he could.

Teddy squeezed the bottle, and a large glob fell to the stone pool deck with a splat. His forehead puckered in frustration.

"Do you want Daddy to help you get the sunscreen out?" Christian coaxed.

"No! I wanna do it!"

Christian repressed a sigh as Teddy struggled with the bottle. On the third try, his son managed to squirt some into his palm as well as the ground and began haphazardly smearing it across his chest.

Christian glanced across the pool. Ethan was holding out his hand to help pregnant Mia down the steps, but she was having none of it, and flounced eagerly into the pool herself, playfully splashing him. Kavanagh was cradling Ava to her chest in the shallow alcove, while Elliot attempted to land precisely on his inflatable shark as he jumped from the diving board. Carrick was swimming back and forth across the pool in powerful strokes that belied his age.

Aside from their family, the only one not yet in the water was Grace. She sat at the little table near the hot tub, and her expression was one of utter contentment. It was apparent that the only pleasure she needed from the pool was the gratification of watching her family enjoy it. Her eyes met Christian's, and she gave him a warm smile.

He smiled back, but was pulled from his reverie by Teddy announcing, "All done!"

Teddy plainly was not "all done." A large streak of the lotion remained on his right forearm, not rubbed in at all. And Christian would have bet his business that he hadn't even touched his back.

But he grinned broadly at his son and said, "Good job, buddy! Want to show Daddy what a good job you did?" Under the guise of admiring his son's work, he surreptitiously rubbed sunscreen into the spots he had missed.

He met Grace's eyes again, and if possible, her smile had widened even further.

He rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his family, but inside, he felt another twinge of sadness. Having children of his own, he was just beginning to realize how heartbreaking it must have been for Grace to have a child who so desperately needed help – in so many ways – but who wouldn't let her get close enough to give it. Christian couldn't imagine the pain if one of his children was hurt, but he was unable to help them. Looking at his son's smile, at his large, innocent blue eyes, he resolved for the thousandth time that he would always be there for his children, and that they would always know it.

"Can we go in the waw-der now?" Teddy asked.

"Let's put on your water wings first. And wait for Mommy and Daddy," Ana told him.

Teddy groaned, and Christian hurriedly slathered his legs with sunscreen. He was already wearing his swim trunks, so he peeled off his T-shirt to get his arms.

"Get my back?" Ana asked flirtatiously, looking at him over her shoulder. He willingly complied. Even years and two kids later, this was as much of a turn-on as it had been the first time he'd done it. Happily he mused that a day in the sun and water might wear out his children more than usual, which meant an earlier bedtime for them and more alone time tonight for him and his wife.

Grinning, Ana turned around and squirted more lotion onto her fingers, then held her hand questioningly over his chest. He smiled and gave a slight nod, and with an answering smile, Ana began to spread the lotion over his pecs.

He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them. There was no stirring from the darkness now. Only a slight wisp of trepidation, so negligible that he thought in a few more years, it might vanish entirely. When it came to Ana, at least.

But even now, he felt comfortable enough to let his eyes wander. Teddy was grumpily slapping the two water wings against each other, each smack accompanied by a cranky grunt, still not having put them on. Ethan and Elliot were racing each other across the deep end of the pool while Carrick floated on his back. Mia and Kavanagh chatted in the shallow alcove, Kavanagh supporting Ava as she stood in the water.

The person who most caught Christian's attention, however, was Grace. As he made eye contact with her, he realized that she was watching him and Ana. Her mouth was open in a disbelieving smile, and – Christ – it looked like her eyes were filled with tears.

Christian looked away, embarrassed, not sure how he was supposed to react to that. Ana finished doing his front.

"Shall I get your back?" she asked, holding up the bottle with a smile.

He smiled in return, then hesitated. His eyes travelled to Phoebe, sleeping peacefully in her carrier, to Teddy, who now had one water wing around his wrist but was still petulantly banging away at it with the other, to his mom across the pool, who, probably due to his earlier embarrassment, immediately shifted her gaze to Carrick.

"Actually…" he said began slowly, and swallowed. He pushed on before he could lose his nerve. "I think I'd like to ask my mom to. If you don't mind."

Ana blinked in surprise, then a smile broke across her face. "Of course, Christian. I think that's a wonderful idea." She leaned up on her tip-toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Here." She handed him the sunscreen, and with a nervous smile, he took it.

The pool was everything Grace had hoped it would be. Her family obviously loved it, and it was all the more meaningful because one of her children had designed and built it. She hoped it would give her children reason to visit frequently, and feeling a faint smile on her face, she imagined her grandchildren learning to swim in it in a few years.

"Mom?"

Her fantasy was interrupted by Christian. He stood before her wearing a hesitant smile, shifting slightly from foot to foot in uncharacteristic nervousness. At his side, he held a bright orange bottle of sunscreen. His eyes searched her face before dropping to the stones beneath his feet.

"Yes, darling?"

He took a deep breath, then spoke in a rush. "I wondered if you could help me with the sunscreen? Just on my back."

Grace sat there, stunned. Of all the things…she had never expected to hear those words from Christian's mouth. For a moment she was unable to speak. Christian looked up shyly, again in a most un-Christianlike way.

Finally, Grace found her voice. "Yes, my darling boy, of course. Of course. Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Shyly, he held the sunscreen out to her, and she stood so as to be able to reach his back. Taking a deep breath and locking his eyes on her face, he turned around. "Just…slowly, please," he added as she squeezed lotion onto her fingers.

"Of course," she murmured. "Anything, my beautiful baby boy."

"Please don't let Elliot hear you say that," he muttered, sounding much more like his usual self.

She smiled and gently, so gently, touched her fingertips to his back, spreading the lotion in small circles. He tensed under her touch, and she could see small tremors running through his body, but he made no move to step away. After a few moments, he relaxed slightly.

Grace continued her small, gentle circles in wonderment. "How did you-?" She couldn't find the words, but Christian answered her anyway.

"Something Anastasia and I have been working on," he murmured.

"I thank God every day for bringing her into your life," Grace whispered, choking around the lump that had risen once more in her throat.

"I'm a fortunate man," he agreed quietly.

Grace worked silently, careful to make every touch as gentle as possible, every movement slow and predictable. For years, she had hoped that time would make Christian feel safe enough to allow this. She had waited and waited, but as he had grown into a teenager, and then an adult, she had realized that it was just not to be. Or so she had thought. Her eyes brimmed with tears again, and she wiped them with her free hand so she could see what she was doing. She had reached the scars, and made her touch even softer.

He had never let her or Carrick touch him here. The scars had grown fainter with time, but he would always have them. She couldn't help a sniffle as she wiped her eyes again.

"I'm sorry," Christian murmured. "For any pain I ever caused you."

A quiet sound escaped Grace that was half a sob and half a laugh. She wanted to throw her arms around him, but knew that an unexpected hug from behind was more than he could handle. Instead, she told him, "You have brought nothing but joy to my life, Christian. I love you more than you could possibly understand."

She couldn't see his face, but his head turned towards his wife and children across the pool. "I think I'm beginning to," he said quietly.

Grace blinked away more tears. Almost nobody else in the pool seemed to understand the enormity of what was happening. Anastasia surely did, but she was occupied with wrestling her son's arms into his water wings. The only other person who seemed to notice was Carrick, who had stopped floating on his back and was staring at the pair of them in awe. When she caught his eye, he smiled an emotional smile and looked away to not draw attention to them. But she knew he understood.

"I think you're finished," Grace whispered at last, capping the sunscreen with a faint click. "Thank you, Christian. Thank you so very much."

He relaxed, and after a beat, turned to face her, looking completely his usual self again. He grinned his familiar, confident, easygoing, lopsided grin at her.

"Why are you thanking me? You're the one who did me a favor. Thanks, Mom." He leaned down to peck her cheek. Taking the sunscreen from her, he flashed one last grin. "Aren't you coming in? You know what Elliot would say: last one in the water is a rotten egg." He turned and bounded away, his athletic body easily carrying him around the pool to rejoin his family.

Elliot, Ethan, and Carrick were now taking turns on the diving board. Christian, however, dove in head-first from the side, then swam to the bottom of the slide. There he patiently treaded water while Ana led Teddy up the steps, waiting to catch him when he came down.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review if you are so inclined, even if it's just something you didn't like/thought needs improvement. Thank you!

P.S. It crossed my mind that perhaps, seeing as they live near the ocean, it is unrealistic that the kids didn't see an ocean for the first time until they went to Florida. I'm going to assume that with Grace and Carrick's busy careers as a successful doctor and lawyer, combined with Washington's rainy weather and the challenges of having three children, there was never a good time to bring them for their first couple years in that home. :P