"Beautiful Boy"

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters of ATU, but I do own Valerie, Michelle, and Max Carrigan Jr.

A/N: So, this is a little oneshot I've had in my head for some time, but I haven't gotten around to writing it until now. It's part of the "Dizzy Miss Lizzy" 'verse, but it's not necessary to read that fic to get this one, as all will be explained. I've dedicated this fic to TakeMeOrLeaveMe2010, who asked for some Max/Max Jr. fluff awhile ago…Enjoy!


Max Carrigan sat in his favorite armchair--the one with the permanent imprint of his ass, much to his wife's displeasure--in the living room of his family's apartment, flipping through the channels on the television. It was a little past midnight, and there was nothing on except talk shows and old sitcom reruns--hardly something that really held his interest. The apartment was dark and silent, the pale glow of the TV screen being the only light source, casting shadows onto the furniture and Max's reclined form.

Max's wife, Valerie, was having a much deserved--and needed--girls' night in with Lucy, Prudence, Sadie and Rita over at Prudence and Rita's apartment, leaving him in charge of their two children. Michelle, his twelve-year-old daughter, and Max, his six-year-old son, were both asleep and had been for the past three hours. Max had attempted to get some shut eye himself, but with no such luck. Once he had fallen into a comfortable, somewhat deep sleep, the nightmares crept into his dreams. They were more frequent right now, considering it was during this time that Max had had his tour of duty in Vietnam. Nightmares and flashbacks were still all too common for the veteran soldier on the grim anniversary. Try as he might to block the images out of his memory, they invaded his mind anyway.

Heaving a tired sigh, Max set the remote on a nearby table, having settled on a late night talk show. He felt his eyes getting heavier and heavier, and his body slowly relaxing…

"Daddy!" The distressed sob broke through the quiet apartment, causing Max to jolt awake just when he was starting to drift off. The urgency in his son's voice immediately had him worried, thinking he had hurt himself or something.

"Daddy!" Max Jr.'s cry came louder this time, followed by the sound of weeping. Max Sr. scrambled out of his chair, nearly tripping over the table in the process. Blinded by the darkness, he stubbed his toe on another piece of furniture on his way out of the room.

"Shit," he hissed, hopping up and down on one foot halfway down the hall, his big toe throbbing. "Hold on, buddy, I'm comin'." He went to the bedroom across the hall from Michelle's and flicked on the light as soon as he was in the doorway. Little Max was sitting in the center of his bed, knees drawn up to his chest, tears spilling down his cheeks. His sandy blond hair was matted to his forehead; his azure eyes instantly looked up to his father, seeking comfort. "What's the matter, Max?"

The elder Carrigan's first thought had been that he was sick, that he was running a fever--the cause of his sweating and flushed cheeks. But when he asked his son if he wasn't feeling well, he received a "no"; Max Jr. shook his head, and that assumption was dropped.

"What is it, then?"

Max Sr. noticed the reluctance in his son's expression before he answered. "I…I had a nightmare."

Max crossed the room, his heart thudding in his chest. Little Max's voice became quiet with the last word he had spoken--a word Max Sr. knew very well. Too well, in fact.

Nightmare.

Little Max had had a nightmare, and was hesitant to admit it aloud to his father. He had heard his dad wake up several times in the grips of his own terrifying dreams, whether it was at night or during the day, only to be comforted by his mom. It scared him to see his father so genuinely frightened. His dad was his hero--a strong, brave role model--and to see him looking completely helpless and afraid was disconcerting to the young boy. He had been nervous to tell his father that he had his own nightmare, knowing that the subject was not usually to be discussed. Young Max didn't know what went on his dad's horrible dreams, and he didn't want to stir up anything bad by talking about his.

"Tell me about it, buddy." Max Sr. sat down on his son's bed, pulling the small boy into his lap.

Little Max sniffled. "I…I was sleeping and these monsters came out from under my bed and my closet and they were trying to t-take me a-away…"

Monsters--that was a relief, compared to the things the war vet had seen. Monsters were made-up horrors. Max hoped neither his son nor his daughter would ever witness the real horrors of the world as he had; hoped they would never have to experience the tortures and pains of war.

"Will you check for monsters, Daddy?"

Max Sr. smiled, and his son crawled out of his lap to return back to his original spot. "Sure, I can do that." Standing up, he ruffled his son's hair and approached the closet first. He tugged the door open, earning an audible wince from the six-year-old. He poked his head in and took a look around, finding nothing but clothes and toys, as he had predicted.

"No monsters in here, little man."

"Are…you sure?"

"Positive."

"What about under my b-bed?" The six-year-old's voice was shaking.

The elder Carrigan chuckled softly and walked across the room, flopping onto the bed like the immature child he was deep down inside. The bed groaned under his weight and the mattress bounced, making little Max bounce along with it. His son giggled, sniffling ever so slightly.

"Let's have a look-see, shall we?"

The young boy nodded, watching as his father flipped onto his stomach to peek under the bed. Little Max mirrored his father's actions, glimpsing under the bed timidly, still a bit scared. However, relief washed over him once he discovered there was nothing under there except for a few toys and a box of crayons.

"I think it's safe to say that your room is completely monster free, right?" Max Sr. asked, receiving a profuse nod from his little boy. With that settled, he picked himself up off the bed and began tucking his son into bed, under the safety of his warm blankets.

"'Night, buddy." He kissed the top of little Max's head and was heading for the door when the six-year-old called him.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, little man?"

"Will you stay until I fall asleep? Please?"

How many times had he heard those words come out of his own mouth, either directed at his wife or Lucy?

"Of course."

Max shut off the light, and went back over to his son's bed, sliding beneath the blankets to rest beside him. His son scooted closer, laying his head on his father's chest. Max Sr. smiled, and began running his fingers through his little boy's hair, hoping to calm him enough so that he could fall asleep. When that didn't work, Max started to sing a lullaby that had often helped to soothe young Max when he was just an infant, and through his childhood.

"Close your eyes

Have no fear

The monster's gone

He's on the run and your daddy's here…"

The six-year-old recognized the familiar song; a smile crept onto his face before he let his eyes close, simply listening to his father's voice.

"Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy

Before you go to sleep

Say a little prayer

Every day in every way

It's getting better and better…

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy

Out on the ocean sailing away

I can hardly wait

To see you come of age

But i guess we'll both just have to be patient

'cause it's a long way to go

A hard row to hoe

Yes it's a long way to go

But in the meantime…"

Max Sr. became aware of his son's steady, rhythmic breathing, knowing that he had finally drifted off into a peaceful sleep. However, he continued to sing, his voice low but comforting.

"Before you cross the street

Take my hand

Life is what happens to you

While you're busy making other plans

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy

Before you go to sleep

Say a little prayer

Every day in every way

It's getting better and better

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful

Beautiful boy…"

A/N: Hope you liked it...sorry about the weird spacing, the computer was being stupid. Please review!