This one's a bit sad, I must say. Also, there may be some things to offend somebody in here. I know, and I don't want to hear about it.

Enjoy!

"Turn Around Bright Eyes"

FanFic by: KeyLimePie14

Ned Bigby silently crept into the bedroom and sighed. His wife was asleep, curled up grasping a small blanket in her hand.

The last few months of their life had been hard; Six months ago he was deemed father of a new baby girl. Aw, she was beautiful to say the least. But their time with the newest addition was cut short when days after her birth she fell ill and died. She was no more than half a week old. Ever since Moze hadn't been the same. As to be expected after losing a child, of course. Ned was going through the same thing. Though he never knew exactly how his wife felt when she described months ago what it felt like to have something kick your ribs from the inside of your body.

Ned was sure it was similar to how he was feeling now, only not as joyous an occasion. It was something like having someone sitting on his chest, constantly making it a struggle to do anything. A struggle to talk about his deceased baby, a battle he was forever fighting with himself to stay strong; that the last thing Moze needed was for him to break down. But the struggle got worse as he tried to hold back tears as he would watch his wife silently try to finish the baby quilt she had begun so many happy months ago when she first found out about their baby.

Now however, it was not as happy. She would sit, expressionless, almost like a zombie, knitting the light pink yarn into something that should have been wrapped around a tiny human each night, keeping her warm, but what was now used to absorb a stray tear from its creator every now and then. Every time she picked up the ball of yarn and continued weaving gorgeous and intricate designs on that blanket Ned knew another small part of her wilted some more.

'Honey, put that down and come to bed. You're only hurting yourself more.' He'd whispered to her more than once. Each time she would shake her head and softly reply, 'I won't be able to sleep until this gets finished.' Ned would smile a sad smile and stroke her hair, knowing that she wouldn't sleep if she didn't want to. She had always been just too stubborn.

Ned couldn't say he blamed her for trying to keep her mind occupied on other things. He had taken on another shift at work just so he could delay coming home and having to walk past the small bedroom on the right. The one that the door hadn't been opened for months. Even if the naked eye couldn't see into the room Ned knew everything it housed perfectly. From the oak baby bed against the right wall down to the expressions on the cartoon characters that were plastered onto the wall.

Every night was the same no matter how long he tried to put it off. He would come home around eight and walk through the front hall, usually finding his wife sitting in the rocking chair in the living room knitting away. He would always softly kiss her head, asking her to come to bed, always receiving that same emotionless response from her. He would sigh as he bed ruggedly made his way past the unlived in room off to his left; the one that had been closed off from the rest of the world, and probably would be forever.

He would enter his own bedroom and undress. And as always, shortly after his head hit the pillow he would drift off into a restless, unfulfilling slumber. And every morning he awoke to find Moze cuddled up next to him, her face its constant red and splotchiness. Her once soft and gentle eyes, the ones he imagined his daughter looking up at him with, were now puffy and red, even when she wasn't crying. There was never a night when she didn't fall asleep without that pink baby blanket in her embrace.

Ned would rise, never wanting to wake her from her sparse moments of peaceful sleep, and get himself ready for work. He would softly touch her shoulder and whisper an 'I love you' before grabbing his coat off the door and pulling his keys off the nightstand, repeating the same routine over again.

That was how his life went day in and day out ever since their baby girl had left them much too soon.

Tonight however, Ned walked inside not finding Moze at her normal place in the white wicker rocking chair, but rather had to walk further down the hall, past the door of hurt, to their own bedroom. Other than her not at her normal place, not much else was changed; she was asleep, on top of the covers, grasping what Ned now assumed was the finished baby blanket. The one thing he noticed most though was the peace that succoumed her. Her face wasn't its normal, or what had become normal, spottiness nor were her eyes puffy.. she looked strangely normal, and for those two seconds of observing her it was as if nothing had ever happened.

Ned let out a long breath and began to repeat his routine, only to stop when he heard sheets rustling, and then Moze's soft voice.

"Sh, it's just me." He whispered softly to her. "Go on back to sleep." She shook her head and patted the empty space beside her beckoning for him to join her. He slid in and hugged her tight. 'Ned, can we try again?' Came a shaken whisper. Ned pulled away so he could look at her face.

"What?" He asked, not sure he had heard her right. She took a deep breath 'I want another baby.' She told him, this time sounding more sure of herself. Ned searched her eyes, looking for a sliver of doubt.

"Are you sure?" He was still somewhat unsure about the subject. She only nodded. 'I finished the quilt today.' She stated as if that said it all. And it did in a way. Her eyes glistened with happiness, and something other than the sadness she held ever since that day they laid their daughter to rest beneath the big oak tree.

She kissed him hard on the mouth. It was one filled with passion, and love swelled inside them both. It had been too long since they'd kissed each other like that. It was obvious to see that things would soon bubble over with pent up emotion. But they were both ready to try again.

The place in their hearts for their eldest and only, never leaving or to be replaced. There was now just hope that they could make room for another in their hearts, and that God would will them to keep this one with them.

Because the truth is, sometimes God just runs outs of angels and needs some spared. He just happened to pick the best angel he could possibly find...