Disclaimer: I do not own Despicable Me or it's characters.

Madcap Moments

Margo lay awake, staring at the somewhat blurry ceiling. She could tell that Agnes was already asleep by the way she let out a little snore every third breath, just as she knew that Edith was still awake. Her eight-year-old sister had something on her mind, judging by how still she was.

She knew that her sister never let things get to her during the day, when she could distract herself with activities or mischief. At night, when she had to be still and sleep, those worries and fears would creep over her and she would inevitably wake up Margo to talk about them. Usually it was about some cold remark made by Miss Hattie.

Margo was uncommonly smart for her age, a small fact her mother had loved to brag to other parents about. She understood things that were, in the opinion of most adults, beyond her understanding. So she had understood within minutes of meeting Miss Hattie that it was up to her to take care of her sisters.

Via time, trial and error, she learned to recognize when Edith was afraid, what things make her question if it was her fault they hadn't been adopted yet. The middle Lennox sibling was not comforted by a sugarcoating on reality, but by pure and blatant honesty.

As honest as Margo was with Eidth, there were things she refused to reveal to her sister. She never expressed her own fears of their uncertain future, and she never revealed that she honestly never thought that they would be adopted. Not all together, at least.

It still stunned her that it had actually happened, that their fortunes had changed for the better. Suddenly they had a grandma, an uncle, several hundred… cousins… and a dog (or something similar to one, anyway). They had hot meals, a warm bedroom, and no more Box of Shame.

But best of all, better than stuffed-crust pizza and pancakes, was Gru.

Now they had a father to give goodnight kisses, bedtime stories, and to chase away nightmares (although he still insisted that there really were monsters in the closet). He wasn't what they'd wanted, or what they'd thought was perfect. He didn't have a twinkle in his eye, or a unicorn for a pet… but he was more than they could ever have thought to wish for.

He loved them enough to give up the moon he had rightfully stolen.

Muffled voices drifted up through the floorboards of the old house, Uncle Nefario and Gru in intense debate over their next heist. She grinned to herself. How strange was it that she lived in the house of a diabolical criminal master mind… and she had never before felt safer or more loved.

We found home, Mom. We stuck together and we found home, just like you said we would.

What would their mother have thought of Gru?

Inessa Lennox had been, to Margo's mind, the most loving and accepting person in the world. She encouraged her children in whatever interests they pursued, whether it was Margo's books, Edith's tree fort (complete with toy arsenal for protection), or Agnes's unicorns (and frequent backyard expeditions to find and capture a real one).

She had raised them to be self-reliant, strong-minded, and independent. To never feel they needed to be like anyone else to be special. She was never to busy to help them when they needed her, or to proud to step back and let them learn on their own.

When Margo's friends had all started ignoring her because she refused to pick on another girl, her mother had taught her what true friendship was and how it was sometimes better to have no friends than to surround yourself with false smiles and mean hearts.

When a boy in school had called her four-eyes and laughed at her right after she'd gotten her glasses, her mother had sat her down and told her never to take her value from what others thought of her. Immediately after, she had taught her how throw a right hook without hurting her wrist.

Margo thought of Gru, patiently teaching Edith how to shoot the Ice-Ray with perfect accuracy. The way he actually seemed to enjoy sitting with Agnes at her tea parties, and how he so happily piled books into her hands at the library. Their mom had told them, time and time again, that family was not blood. Family was the ones who loved you best, and who you could trust and rely on.

Family had been more important to their mother than anything else. It was the reason why she, Edith and Agnes had refused to be separated, even when it meant never being adopted.

Inessa Lennox would have loved Gru, Margo decided, simply for the care and affection he showed to her daughters. She was happy for them, and the family they had found.

"Hey Margo, are you awake?"

"Yeah, I am." Margo replied and rolled onto her side to squint at the fuzzy form of her sibling. She was fairly sure that Edith was not looking at her, but staring at the ceiling. She considered reaching for her glasses, but decided against it. Gru always came up to check on them a few times before he went to bed. He'd undoubtedly be suspicious if she was 'sleeping' with her glasses on.

"Do you ever think about our… um… other dad? The first one?"

Forgetting her reservations, Margo now sat up and slipped her glasses on, staring at her sister in surprised silence. Their father had died just a little bit after Agnes had been born, and she honestly hadn't thought that Edith had remembered him at all. At the very least, she had never spoken of him before now.

"Sometimes, I guess."

"Was he anything Gru?" Margo gaped at her sister for a moment, and then dissolved into giggles.

"Oh, Edith, I don't think anyone is like Gru."

"He is pretty awesome." Edith said, grinning back at her elder sister, "I don't think anyone can top stealing the moon. Even if he did put it back."

"Well, actually, it was weird pajama-man who put it back."

"Whatever. Stupid pajama-man wouldn't have had the moon at all if Gru hadn't given it to him to get us back. Do you know how he died?"

"Vector died?" Well that was news to her. She had always figured that Gru would do cartwheels through the house at the news of the mathematically monikerd nerd's demise, and as that had yet to happen she assumed he was still around somewhere.

"No! Our dad, do you know how he died." Edith asked, rolling onto her side now, watching Margo with bright thoughtful eyes.

The elder sister shrugged and tugged her nightgown over her knees, hugging them to her chest. "Mom said that he got sick, and couldn't get better. She… didn't like talking about him. I think it was too painful for her, so I stopped asking. I didn't think you remembered him."

"I don't." the blond replied, pushing her beanie further up her forehead, "But you have Mom's wedding ring, so I know we had two parents at some point. Do you know if Gru knows anything about… what happened to us?"

"What happened with mom, or with Miss Hattie?"

"Both."

"I doubt he's thought about where we came from."

"He loves us, though. We're his now."

"Yeah," Margo smiled, "We are."

"So… are you going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?"

"About what Miss Hattie's was like." Edith rolled her eyes, as though her statement should have been clear the first time.

Now that was a question Margo had been asking herself since they had journeyed back to the orphanage so they could be re-adopted by Gru. She just wasn't sure there was any point in him knowing. She had, after all, seen the change that had come over him when Vector hadn't immediately released them.

She had watched his eyes go cold, flat, the face harden with rage. She had heard his voice go low and dangerous, the accent thicken as words snapped out of his mouth like a small poisonous darts. She had realized that this, the man who had played tea party with them, was a man you did not want to cross.

How did she explain the two years since their mother's death to such a man? How did she describe the cold, domineering way Miss Hattie handled her charges. Was there a way to chronicle the struggle it had been to acclimate from an environment of love and safety, to one of disdain and indifference? How did you detail the way reality had shattered your childhood, your innocence, and left you with nothing?

Through cutting remarks and harsh punishments, Hattie had taught them that they were worthless, ugly, and unlovable. They were nothing, Hattie had said, an unwanted burden. Who would want a know-it all like Margo, or a mud pie making mess like Edith? Who would want a stupid little dreamer like Agnes? There was no one in the world who would ever adopt them.

If he knew all of that, he would wonder what had happened after they'd been handed back to the orphanage. She wasn't certain what his reaction would be, or if he would need to seek… restitution… on their behalf. She didn't want that, didn't need it. What Margo wanted more than anything was to forget the last two years ever happened and live peacefully with her father and siblings.

"I'll tell him if he asks." She said quietly. She wouldn't lie to him, but she'd do her best to avoid answering.

Margo's eyes drifted over to where her youngest sister slept peacefully, "Agnes is lucky, you know. In a few years Miss Hattie will be a vague memory, and a few years after that she may not remember her or the orphanage at all."

"Will she forget Mom?" Edith asked, eyes going wide.

Margo heaved a sad sigh and rubbed a hand under her glasses. She'd always had to be strong for her sisters, never letting them see her grief or fear. Maybe she had thought that, if she could just burry it deeply enough, she would forget about the gaping wound inside of her. If she didn't remember she wouldn't hurt.

"I think it's better, easier, to forget. When you forget… you don't have to wonder every day if there was something, anything, you could have done to change things. You don't stare outside every rainy October day, wondering who's going to be taken from you next. When you don't remember… you don't get scared when you can't remember."

Edith sniffed, rubbed at her nose and sat up. "I don't want to forget about Mom, even if it does hurt."

"I won't let you." Margo promised, "If I have to remember, so do you. That's pecking order."

"Good… Margo?"

"Yeah?"

"Um… I love you."

Margo smiled, feeling her throat go tight. That was the first time Edith had ever said that to anyone, ever. "I love you too."

"Do you think Gru would let us call him Dad?"

"I hope so. We'll make Agnes try it first, and see what he does."

"That's pecking order." The blond grinned.

As the sisters lay back down and began the slow descent into sleep, neither noticed the shadow pass away from their door.

Author's Note: This is something that jumped into my head after seeing the movie. I am very curious about the girls origins, and the thought about if they would ever tell Gru about their history. I doubt very much that Gru would have thought about where they might have come from, given that they were just a means to an end at first.

If you can't tell already, Margo is my favorite sister. There will be a lot of Gru/Margo bonding moments in future chapters, because Margo was the one who said that Gru would never be her dad, and had the least faith in him even when he showed up to rescue them. I see her as the keeper of the family history/treasures because she is the eldest and remembers things more clearly than the other two. I also see her as the siblings Spokesgirl, so if there is information Gru needs/wants, he has to go to Margo to get it.

As for Miss Hattie... some may disagree... but I think that someone who stuffs children into small boxes is capable of, and probably has done, much worse to said children. I think that Gru would be... less than pleased... to know how his girls had been treated. Anyone wonder what he'd have done if he'd gotten a chance to get his hands on Vector at the end?

Next Chapter: The usefulness of eavesdropping, and what Gru now has to think about.