Author's Note: Read below after reading the whole story.

I don't own Nancy Drew.

Rating: PG just to be safe

There it was again. Soft footsteps padded against the carpet. Nancy froze straining to hear every last sound. Someone was in the house, and it terrified her. The girl detective shook herself trying to rid herself of fear. She needed to be strong and steady to protect her father and Hannah and wanting to run and hide under the covers would not help.

She felt two strong hands on her shoulder, and Nancy had to bite back a scream. When she looked up, she was surprised to see her mother giving her an earnest look. Her mother tugged her firmly and pushed her into a nearby closet. Nancy looked around and felt small and helpless. She soon realized that she was indeed small and helpless; as an intruder invaded their home, her father was miles away and Hannah was not even thought of yet. She wasn't the strong detective of twenty-six but a mere child of three.

Nancy grew uncomfortable waiting in the stuffy closet barely big enough for her small frame. She listened closely wanting to be there to help her mother. Because this time things would be different. Because this time Nancy would save her mother.

But history couldn't be changed. As Nancy burst from the closet hearing the scuffle, she raced but forces seemed to stop her from moving more than inches. She reached for her mother, but it was no use. Nancy gave an outcry, but no sound came. No! Not again. The gun pointed and fired.

"No!" Nancy screamed sitting abruptly in her bed. She gasped and struggled for breath. Slowly, she took in her surroundings and collapsed back on the bed. Nancy felt the tears burning and slammed her fists into the mattress with frustration. Why couldn't she save her mother? Why wasn't she enough?

Two strong arms pulled Nancy into a hug, and Nancy released into her husband's embrace. "Oh, Ned. It happened again.

"I know, baby," her husband responded softly. "I know."

And that was all he said. Ned knew better than to tell her it was alright because frankly it wasn't. Although tonight was just a dream, it was a jumbled memory of the night Nancy's mom was murdered. Nancy had only been three and had heard the fatal shot. For years since that night, Nancy had awoke screaming from the memories plaguing her dreams. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't change the outcome and save her mother. When she awoke, she would still be gone.

It wasn't fair, and it certainly wasn't right. Nancy barely remembered her mother, and one of her few memories was her mother dead – thoughtlessly murdered. She had been so young and never grew to know her mother. When she scraped her knees or prepared for the prom, her mother wasn't there. As Nancy placed the wedding veil upon her head, the warm embrace of her mother was noticeably absent.

Her mother's death had pushed Nancy into the life she led, and she was grateful for the hundreds of lives she had saved. Her mother's memorial would always contain the numerous names saved by the actions propelled by that night. And she knew somewhere her mother was looking down proud of what her daughter had become. It was almost enough to help her through each day. After all, the pain was never gone - only dulled at times ready to flare again.

In the morning, Nancy would smile and put on a fresh coat of makeup preparing for the day. There would be little remnants of this night, but for now, she was hurting remembering the pain so vividly. Ned spoke softly and kissed her lightly on the head. It wasn't much, but in that moment, that was all she needed. His comforting arms were enough.

I...I don't know what to say. I'm a morbid person I guess.

You all know I am leery about SPY, but I do appreciate fan fiction. This is a depressing version, but honestly, a mother dying so young is depressing no matter how it's told. I hope you kinda enjoyed it somehow.

In memory of those taken too soon