AN: This is my first attempt at a multi-chapter fic. And I'm a bit nervous about posting it, as it's something completely different from my normal, short fluff pieces. Inspiration credit goes to Max and Fern Forever - a single line in chapter 6 of her "There is No Thing" spurred the monster of a story this is! Haha. As always, anything you recognize isn't mine!

1984

A sharp kick to the ribs woke her. Roberta rolled towards the edge of the bed, curling away from the flailing limbs of her 5-year-old son Marty. She twisted the kink out of her neck before reaching for the towheaded child, tucking him within her grasp.

"Shhh," she cooed at Marty, trying to still his trembling. She looked down to see bright blue eyes swimming with tears. "What's wrong, baby boy?"

"Scary dream Mama," Marty mumbled, as he burrowed further into her chest. She knew that much. Her third night in a row attempting to sleep in the small bed had done little to still the nightmares plaguing Marty.

"Will you tell me about it?"

Marty launched into a rambling tale of great green dragons, and evil monsters. "And at the end, there was a super scary, really mean lion. He tried to come after you, and then when I tried to stop him, he roared at me!" Sitting up, pitiful eyes looked up at Roberta. "It was like when Daddy yelled at me. Why did Daddy yell at me? I didn't do nothing wrong."

Roberta thought carefully before trying to answer. Her husband, Gordon, had been going through a tough time. He'd just lost his mother to lung cancer, and when he'd traveled back east for her funeral, he'd learned his twin brother was battling the same. He was not anticipated to survive the year. Gordon had come home understandably devastated, and hadn't really been the same since.

She thought back to earlier that week. Gordon may have taken out his stresses on a few bottles of alcohol, before passing out. When an exuberant, screeching child came rushing in to watch his favorite cartoons, the raging hangover resulted in unfortunate screaming at his son.

The fear on Marty's face broke Roberta's heart. His interactions with Gordon were becoming fewer and farther between, as the older man was grieving and his moods unpredictable. She'd tried to explain to her young son, but he did not fully understand.

"Remember what I said about Daddy?" She asked him.

"Yes, Mama. That Daddy's really really sad right now, so we hasta be extra nice to him," Marty recited dutifully. "I'm trying!"

"That's my boy! Hopefully, Daddy will be better soon. Now, before your scary dream, did you have any good ones?" She tried distracting him from his frightened thoughts.

Marty put on what he referred to as his 'thinking face', and Roberta chuckled at his wrinkled nose. "Yes I did! You know the 'Lympics?"

"The Olympics, yes, remember we watched the ice skaters on TV."

"No, the ones coming here! We learned abouts it in school!"

"Oh yes, not 'til the summer though. Were you one of the athletes? What sport?"

"No, but I dreamed I had a big brother and he was super fast, and he ran in the 'Lympics! He was really really big, and so fast! I kept yelling for him to save us from the lion, but he didn't come. Prolly cuz I don't really gots a big brother."

"No you don't, but maybe someday you'll get to BE a big brother and be able to be the protector." Roberta hoped the idea of a potential sibling might quell his sadness over the lack of an older one.

"I'd be the bestest brother ever! But what if I get scared?"

Roberta stroked Marty's cheek and kissed his forehead. "I don't think you will. You stood up to the lion to protect me, didn't you? You are such a brave boy, and I'm really proud of you."

Marty snuggled closer into his mother's neck. His "I love you Mama!" was followed up by a large yawn.

Roberta returned his sentiment, then asked, "Got any funny jokes for me? I think we need one good joke before we go back to bed." It was a nightly tradition for the pair - trading jokes at bedtime.

Marty's 'thinking face' appeared again before he replied. "Yes, I heard this one at school! What's red and smells like blue paint?"

Roberta played up her own thinking face, "You got me, what is it?"

"Red paint!" Marty giggled at the brilliance of his joke, causing Roberta to chuckle right along with him. "Night Mama!" He kissed her cheek and snuggled into her side.

"Night baby boy," she kissed his head and wished them both restful sleep.