(Author's Note: UGH. My stupid computer is on the fritz, and being difficult. Sorry I had to upload it again.)

"Johnny?" The voice was barely above a whisper. "Johnny?" A small hand was now on his right arm. The hand shook his arm.

Johnny drew in a breath and slowly opened his eyes. "Yeah?" The voice was tired, and laced with a little pain.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?"

"Sure." He threw back the covers and let the little boy climb in next to him, wincing slightly as the boy accidentally touched his left side.

"Careful buddy."

"Sorry Johnny."

"It's ok." Johnny put his arm around the boy and drew the covers around them, keeping out the frosty air.

"Better?" He felt the boy nod as he curled up against him.

Satisfied, Johnny closed his eyes.

"Johnny?"

"Hmm?"

"Why does he hurt you?"

"I don't know."

"Do other dads hurt their kids too?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure."

"Dads in books don't do it either."

"No, they don't."

"So why does our dad?"

"I don't know buddy." The boy was silent for a while.

"Johnny?"

"Yes?"

"Mommy said something the other day I want to ask you about."

"Ok."

"She said that Dad was a son of a bitch just like his dad."

"You shouldn't say that.

"Why?"

"It's not nice."

"But you say it. That's what you call Dad." Johnny didn't have a reply. "Dad said that he hated Grandpa and that Grandpa was, uh, that word."

"Dad doesn't like Grandpa because Grandpa would hurt him and Grandma."

"Just like our dad does now?"

"Yeah."

"So since Grandpa is, uh, that word, and Dad is that word, and Dad calls you and me that word, does that mean that we're going to be like them?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Good, because I don't want to be like them."

"I don't either."

"Are you really, really sure we won't be like them?"

Johnny paused. "Tell you what, how about you and I make a promise to never hurt our families, ok? Since it's a promise, you have to keep it."

"But people don't always keep their promises. Like Mom."

"Hmm."

"Can we promise to God? I mean, if you promise to God, you have to keep it, otherwise you'll go to hell."

"You shouldn't say that either."

"Father Michael does."

"I know, but six-year olds don't need to be saying it. Ok?"

"Ok. So can we promise?"

"Sure."

"You go first. And put your hand over you heart."

Johnny chuckled. "Ok." Now somber, right hand on his heart, he said, "I promise, to God, that I will never hurt my family. That I will never hit them or call them bad names. I will always be nice to them, and I will always love them, no matter what. I promise to God." He opened his eyes to find his brother staring intensely at him. "Your turn."

The six-year old placed his little hand over his heart. "I promise, to God, that I will tell my family I love them. I won't ever hit them or call them bad names. I will be nice to them and I'll always keep my promises to them. I promise to God." The boy settled back in against his brother. "I love you Johnny."

Johnny smiled and wrapped his arm back around the boy. He kissed his forehead. "I love you too."

The boy put his right arm over Johnny's stomach, placing it carefully so he wouldn't hurt his brother.

"Ok?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now, close your eyes and go to sleep."

"Ok."

Johnny closed his eyes and waited for sleep to overtake him.

"Johnny?"

"Yeah?"

"Since we promised to be nice to our families, does that mean you'll give me your ice cream when we get it? That's being nice."

Johnny laughed. "I think you should give me your ice cream. That's being nice too."

"Hmm. What if we just always get the same amount? That way, it's fair."

"Deal. Now go to sleep." The boy nodded, and soon his even breathing could be heard. Satisfied, Johnny's own breathing soon evened out and both brothers dreamed about the families they would one day have.