Things are always so much clearer in hindsight. We can say, "Oh, I should have known; I should have seen the signs." And Rick supposed he should have known, from the very beginning, that something was wrong...something was very, very wrong.

He was a brilliant scientist, after all. An inventor of things most men could only dream of as a possibility. With a mere blink of an eye, he was able to craft formulas that created life where there was none. Unlike his fellow mortals, he could now create as well as destroy.

He believed one day he might be too powerful to call himself a man.

And yet, somehow, in the midst of all these achievements, he let his very own daughter slip under his finger. She began to unravel, and kept unraveling and before Rick knew, it was too late.

Michigan, 1986

He should have known something was wrong as soon as the cat went missing.

Fucking cat. It was Dianne's really. He never really liked the cat, but Dianne loved it, so he put up with its presence as best he could. The cat, Scat, loved to mess up his projects, to scatter his blueprints and knock all his beloved items off shelves. Whenever Scat managed to find his way into the garage, Rick's bellowing could be heard throughout the Sanchez household, as well as three blocks down the street.

"YOU BETTER RUN YOU FUCKING FELINE….OR YOU'LL BE MY SWEATER FOR CHRISTMAS THIS YEAR!"

For two year old Beth, watching her father run after the cat screaming always got a hysterical giggle. "Daddy silly!"

"NOT funny Beth!" Rick snapped back as he continued with fervor to search for the cat, "Th-that cat doesn't know who it's messing with!"

"Mess….mess...meeeeessss," Beth chanted in between laughter as she toddled clumsily after her father.

"YUCK! Doesn't your mother ever empty the trash bin-?" It was then that Rick made an unsettling discovery-as he noticed a tail sticking out of the garbage can. "HOLY SHIT-" Rick nearly fell backwards. "Oh FUCK-" He didn't have to look twice. There was Scat. In the garbage….but….HOW? He was mangled, barely unrecognizable….And Rick had to bend over to keep himself from vomiting.

"Daddy?" Beth was walking into the kitchen.

"D-don't come in here!" Rick managed to bark over his shoulder.

"Daddy?"

"G-get the f-f-" He had to stop himself from swearing; she was a goddamn toddler. "Get OUT of here-I-I-Daddy's gotta-gotta do some-something, okay?"

"I thirsty Daddy." Beth was lingering way too close to the trash bin.

"Eli-" Rick coughed, the smell almost overpowering. He could not let her see. "Elizabeth Anne Sanchez! GO TO YOUR ROOM!"

He was almost relieved when she burst out crying and ran off down the hall, leaving him alone with his thoughts….and the cat.

The cat...Shit. This-this was bad. He didn't know what to make of this. How had Scat managed to find himself in such a state? All anger at the animal dissipated upon first sight, and now he just wanted to know what had happened. Dianne surely would have told him if something had happened, and she never would have put him in the garbage like-

Rick threw open the freezer door, letting the cold air calm his senses as he struggled to gain perspective-what the fuck was wrong with him?-He should be able to handle such a simple dilemma. There was a cat, dead, in his kitchen. And somehow he was clueless as to what was the cause.

He knew he couldn't have Dianne see her beloved cat in such a state….which meant...he had to bury it. By himself….in the backyard.

Thankfully, it was pitch dark out, and Elizabeth was busy sulking in her room, so he was able to steal his way outside without any problem whatsoever. Dianne had a late night shift at the hospital that evening; she said there was a four-car pile up and she might be needed in the OR til morning. Just as well, Rick went about the grim task of burying the family cat before his wife came home, or his daughter had any idea as to what had just transpired. Now, he just had to come up with a good story to tell her when she got home.

In the end, he had to lie. It wasn't too hard; he said Scat had, somehow, escaped-he got out through a hole in the window (which Rick had made himself)-probably trying to get a bird or something. Not surprisingly, Dianne was hysterical. "We are putting up flyers! I'm going out to search for him myself!" she had cried.

And for a time he did, too, put up flyers, all over town, if only to humor her and Elizabeth….He didn't want to seem too dismissive. He was after all her beloved family pet.

Throughout it all Beth remained surprisingly calm. Looking back, he probably should have known something was off. Yet he never would have expected her to do what she did one day when they were alone.

He'd gotten angry at her, and lost his temper, again, which he was prone to quite often when Elizabeth was concerned….this time, it was because she had managed to get wet paint all over the living room carpet.

Looking up shamefully-almost mournfully-at her father, Beth looked far too sad for her young years as she said almost tearfully, "Daddy going to put me in the garbage now?"

It wasn't just the full sentence that took Rick by surprise (at that point, Beth still didn't talk as much as other kids her age), but it was her words, rather, that froze him in his tracks, and made his blood run cold.

"Wh-what was that, sweety?" Rick forced the words out from his lips but they still sounded flat and hollow in his ears.

"I was bad…." Beth looked as though she were about to cry, "and now...Daddy going to put me in the garbage….too."

A sensation Rick had never felt before gripped him in the pit of his stomach, and he had to hold onto the table with one hand, trying to keep himself from falling. "Wh-what...why….?" He almost didn't want to know.

"I was bad." Beth looked down at the floor now as she spoke, almost as if in a trance. "Like...kitty was..."

Rick shuddered; the colors of the room were beginning to blur together and dance in his vision. "Wh-what about….the cat?" he managed to choke out in spite of himself.

"Kitty was bad too," Beth said simply as she traced her finger around in a circle on the floor. "Kitty had to go bye bye-and-now, I do….Right?….Daddy?" No response. "Daddy?" She looked up to see an empty room; her father was nowhere to be found….

Rick made it to the bathroom just in time. He was hardly able to hold himself up without fainting as he hurled his breakfast into the toilet bowl. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck….This isn't fucking POSSIBLE. She couldn't have done it-she's talking nonsense-isn't she? FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. Fuck.

FUCK.

He didn't tell Dianne what their daughter had said. He went straight to bed that night after Dianne got home, complaining of a stomach ache. Beth wasn't punished for the carpet stains, and the cat was never spoken of again.

Then the complaints at school started. Girls complaining that Beth had pulled their hair, boys saying she had pushed them down repeatedly in the school yard and at lunch time when teachers weren't looking….one girl, even accusing Beth of having bit her hand so hard it bled…..They called a meeting. Dianne went in, because Rick was always too busy with a project, and that was Dianne's part of the "Parent Contract", the stuff involving school….and Beth was given a warning, but she was never held back from school, and she was put up with a therapist two days a week.

"Seriously?" Rick growled with venom when he heard the news. "Those-bureaucratic MORONS! She-she's fucking five years old-and they're making her do THERAPY? Wh-what the hell is this shit?!"

Dianne had simply scoffed and rolled her eyes at him. "It's public school protocol, Rick-we both went through it, for crying out loud!"

"FUCK their fucking protocol!" Rick was incensed, already pacing the room like a caged animal. "I-I-I'm not having our-our daughter LABELED as a goddamn FREAK at fucking-FIVE YEARS OLD, Dianne-FUCK-That's IT!" he bellowed, "we're HOMESCHOOLING her and-and that's fucking FINAL!"

"Oh right," Dianne smirked, "like you actually have the time for that!"

After halting in his tracks for a moment, he just sneered smugly back at her, "Wonder which one of us has the more lucrative career?"

"You REALLY want to play that card?"

In the end, Rick knew he'd lost, and so their daughter went to therapy. To Rick's surprise, after only a short amount of time, it actually seemed to be working. The teacher and staff were happy with her improved behavior, and Beth kept going to school like everyone else.

And everything seemed to be going back to normal.

Except one day when Rick got home when Dianne was supposed to be watching Beth….and came home to a sight no parent or spouse should ever have to see….

There, lying on the floor, was Dianne….

….lying completely still and silent, face down in a pool of her own blood.

….and there sat little Beth on the floor beside her….

….playing with a bloody knife as if it were a Barbie doll.

Rick's heart skipped several beats, and his portal gun dropped to the floor; his mind told him to run and grab Beth from the floor, but his feet wouldn't move. The scene in front of him was as real as could be, though in his mind, it wasn't real at all….it was a movie he was watching in a theater on a screen….

And then Bethie looked up at him, her blue eyes bright, and did the strangest thing of all...she smiled at him, as if they were playing a game, her and her mom. "I told Mommy we were done playing now….but she won't move." His daughter sounded almost amused as she turned back to her mother, and Rick's eyes widened as his daughter leaned forward and started to shake his wife's still shoulder. "Mommy come ON get UP now!"

Rick had to stuff a hand into his mouth to keep himself from screaming at her not to touch-his wife was clearly dead-he didn't want to think about what might have happened…

"B-Beth…." He was shaking in spite of himself as he crouched slowly down towards her. He reached out for the knife, though his fingers trembled. "Gi-give me the knife Bethie." She couldn't have done this….No way could she have done this….Could Dianne have done this to herself?

He wanted to touch Dianne himself, but he dared not get too close; he didn't want his own fingerprints on her, lest the police think he had anything to do with it. He'd have to discard somehow of the weapon….Except his daughter was refusing to let go of it, as she had both hands gripping the handle and each time it moved Rick's stomach did backflips.

"S-sweety-" He had to force the words up his throat, "G-give me the knife, Bethie."

"No." Beth frowned at Rick and Rick felt his blood run cold.

"Beth…." Rick wanted to scream and throw up all at once, but he fought both back down to the pit of his stomach. "Please."

"But…." Beth looked upset. "You promise not to tell Mommy?"

Rick felt his face go pale. "Tell Mommy-Tell Mommy what….?" he repeated in a voice that sounded very far away.

"I don't want her to know I failed." Beth looked down at her mother sadly.

It took all of Rick's willpower to keep himself from grabbing the girl and shaking her like a rag doll. "Failed…." he echoed weakly, "failed...at what?"

"Our game Daddy." Beth sounded indignant, like he should know. "We were playing hide and go seek. But Mommy found me. So….I thought we should both take a nap."

"A-A nap?" Rick felt ill.

"Except she won't wake up now Daddy….She's mad at me…."

"No…." Rick pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to fight back the bile in his throat. "No, Beth, Mommy's not mad...and….Daddy's not mad at, at you either, okay?" he lied, "but...but you have to give Daddy the knife, okay?" Once again, he held out his hand.

Beth looked down at the bloody knife, then the body lying beside her, and then the knife again.

"Beth…." Rick drew slowly closer, his hand right beneath her face, "Please." He was pleading now, but he didn't care. He had to get the knife away from his daughter. He didn't know what else he should do other than that, but that was the only thing he could think of.

Beth let out a long, exhausted sigh; it was more like a shudder, and she looked up at him then. The look in his daughter's eyes was not one that Rick had ever seen before. He couldn't define it, and it gave him chills.

Beth took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye. "Okay Daddy," she said, and calmly placed the knife down on the floor. Rick snatched the knife up as quickly as he could without cutting himself and tossed it into the kitchen sink. He tried not to look at Dianne while doing so, but it was impossible not to, and the stench of blood was making his stomach churn. Looking down at himself, he noticed that blood had soaked into the fabric of his pants. Beth's clothes were covered in bloodstains. He had to get her out of those clothes. He had to get them both out of here.

Except Rick couldn't think straight. "Beth…" He sighed as he crouched down next to her, as he kneeled beside his daughter once again on the floor, desperately trying to avoid the blood. He placed both hands on her shoulders and looked her square in the eyes and said very slowly, "Who did this to Mommy?"

Beth didn't answer. Instead she looked away.

"BETH!" Rick barked, close to losing it, "Who did this to Mommy!?"

Again Beth wouldn't answer, and Rick's anger only intensified.

"BETH! ANSWER ME, DAMMIT!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, "WHO HURT MOMMY!"

Beth was crying, and Rick knew he shouldn't be yelling, but he couldn't help it. She was trying to say something, but she was hysterical, and she wouldn't look him in the eyes. "SLOW. DOWN," he ordered her, and Beth managed to stop crying a little, and in between hiccups, she confirmed his worst fears:

"Mommy wouldn't-she wouldn't stop-" She said, in between tears, "She-she wouldn't stop yelling so-I-I-made her-" She was crying harder now. "I-I had to-make her stop, Daddy-I-I just had to make her stop-"

"Oh...fucking...Christ…." Rick's head was reeling. "You….you did this…." He all but dropped his daughter on the floor, as if she were radioactive. "YOU did this…" He somehow managed to stand, but his legs felt like jello. "You…." He couldn't look at her. His own daughter sitting there, covered in her mother's blood…. "You killed her…."

"Daddy…." Beth had stopped crying, her voice was pleading. "Don't be mad…"

" 'MAD'?" Rick nearly laughed out loud. "Why would I be 'mad'...?" Before she could respond, he reached out immediately, snatching his daughter by the arm, his fingers gripping her wrist, hard. Without saying a word, he began dragging her roughly down the hall towards her bedroom.

"DADDY!" Beth was crying again, trying to pull back, but he didn't care. "You're-you're HURTING me-!"

Rick didn't say a word. He dragged her to her room, yanked her in, and slammed the door. He'd never locked his own daughter in her room before, but this time, he knew it was warranted.

"Daddy!" Beth was crying hysterically. "Let me out! Please let me out! Please"

Rick didn't respond, nor did he unlock the door. He was not going to give her what she wanted. Instead, he left her there and went straight to the garage-where he stood for a moment with both hands on the desk for support, his chest heaving…..

And then the scream unleashed from the depths of his soul-a scream that didn't even sound human-he didn't care if anyone heard-and the next moment, he was smashing things left and right, without stopping to look at them, to see how important they were, because it didn't matter now-his wife was dead, his daughter was to blame, and life would never be the same again.