((Anon, I don't know how to explain why this took so long except MY BRAIN DESPERATELY DID NOT WANT TO WRITE ABOUT DEAD MICHAEL.))
Mothers and Daughters; 251 words; pg-13
There are things, Nikita knows, that mothers cannot tell their four-year-old daughters, no matter how smart these four-year-old daughters claim to be.
("Listen, Mommy, I can sing the whole alphabet! Alpha-Bravo-Charlie-Delta-Echo…")
For example, when asked for stories about their daddy, mothers cannot tell their four year olds about that time daddy saved mommy by taking out a mercenary with a sniper rifle.
Mothers can tell their children that their father was brave, that their father taught their mother what it is to love and be loved in return. Mothers can tell their children that they have their father's eyes, their father's smile, and their father's heart.
Mothers cannot tell their children that the daddy who used to sing 'You Are My Sunshine' to lull them to sleep will never have a chance to do so again because a woman named Amanda slit his throat and made mommy watch as he bled to death right in front of her.
(Sometimes the knowledge that this is a third child that Michael will never have the opportunity to see grow up makes Nikita wish Amanda took her life instead. Sometimes the knowledge that Amelia has a half-brother she will likely never know is a dagger between Nikita's ribs.)
Mothers cannot tell their children that the loss of their father almost killed their mother.
If Amelia got one thing from her father, it was the ability to save Nikita's life.
And that is one thing, Nikita vows, that her daughter will never know.
end.