It all started by a mouse… a young mouse, which does seem odd, since when he was awake he hardly had any memory of his childhood. Inside a small white hospital room, young Mickey Mouse is seen by the window, playing with two stuffed animals, waiting as voices are heard on the other side of the door. Voices of nurses and doctors. His father, the all-known famous Walt Disney, had been ill for quite some time. Mickey had hoped day and night his only parent would be well soon but Uncle Roy confessed it was a fatal sickness. A beeping sound is all the mouse was listening to, hearing it go the usual beep after beep… suddenly, a longer beep took place and the voices got louder. The stuffed animals dropped from his hands in horror as his eyes moistened.

"D-Daddy…?" he ran in slow motion to try and reach the door but it was reaching out of reach, "Dad! FATHER!"

Voices, the never-ending beep, the shrinking doorway all blurred together with voices mixing here and there, it got louder and louder until it was too much for his sensitive ears. He fell to his knees, clutching his head, tears forming a river on his face and there came a scream…

Well, in reality, the only scream came from Mickey himself. He clutched tight onto the covers of his warm bed, sweat began to damp his forehead as he shook with every breathing. Heck, he was hardly a full adult mouse and here he was, just as scared as any other little kid waking up from a bad dream.

Knocking rapped on his door but he couldn't answer. He was still shaking too much. The door opened anyway as the person invited himself inside and straight next to Mickey. Donald Duck, who had been sleeping next door, had been woken up from his slumber land due to the sudden harsh cry from the mouse and had come to see the problem, even though... he already knew why...

"Was it another nightmare?" He asked, his usual screechy tempered voice lowered down to a calm tone as if a parent were soothing their own frightened child.

Mickey was silent for a few minutes before he was ready to talk again. He normally didn't like lying and always found it a bad thing but he lied to Donald none the less.

"I don't know…" He said, speaking with broken words, "I don't remember…" He hid his face in the covers.

The white duck moved closer to hug his friend until the shaking stopped and Mickey calmed down. He regretted already lying but it was best this way. This had been going on for some time and it was always the same dream. The doctors and nurses talking, the long noise of the monitor and… he really didn't want to think about it anymore, he just… didn't…

"Are you okay?" Donald's voice reached him again.

"Huh?" Mickey then slowly nodded, "Oh, yes, uh… I'll be fine…"

"If you say so…" Donald pushes his friend gently back into bed as Mickey pulled up the blankets, "Just call if you need anything."

"Right." Mickey watched silently as the door closed behind the duck and he stared out into the silent nighttime and sighed sadly.

The only thing he needed…

Really, really needed…

Was a father…

And not just any type of father…

Walt Disney… the man who started everything…

"Dad…"