This is a Fan Fiction of a Fan Fiction to the wonderful fic called Lost and Found but not Healed by BlackShuriken.

It is VERY recommended to read is predecessor and watch Monsters Inc. before you read this fic. Otherwise it's pretty butterballing confusing.

All rights to the original story go to Dark-Crescent-Moon here on DA.

Intro:

The day Danielle DeMarsh decided to save and heal what she believed to be a dying alligator on the side of the road is the day her life began a connection to a different world. What came with saving the creature turned out to be living proof of a species known as a "Monster" from an alternate world, a monster known as Randall Boggs. Despite their differences and parallel worlds, Danielle and Randall Boggs, have committed to each other in loving romantic relationship together in the human world.

While the connection between this human and monster remained balanced, their worlds collide in a way that threatened the secrecy of the Monster World. For both their worlds were once one a long time ago, but because of an ancient feud between species their worlds were separated….but their genetics remained compatible.

This collision or between their worlds has taken form of a young child or rather a "Hybrid".

The daughter of Danielle and Randall.

Her appearance human, but with her father's "abilities" which she has almost no control over.

For the safety of their child's survival, their relationship had to be relieved to the Monster World and much controversy and debate over the fate of the child and collision of their worlds has erupted. For this has happened before….but never had a Hybrid been revealed outright to CDA by the parents.

After four years, the CDA and the new family came to a temporary agreement.

To insure the fate of his daughter, Randall remorsefully had to return to the monster world as representative for his child and monitor the CDA's decisions. Awhile, more of the Monster World is being revealed and remember by children because of the positive influences of Laughter based energy has had, the decision of which world the child should eventually live in and what her purpose has become a crucial top secret project.

Leaving Danielle alone, with enough information and preparation, to raise the child until the CDA, the Central Monsters Intelligence Agency, and the Board of Directors for Monsters Incorporated reaches an agreement.

Seven years have passed with little connection between the two lovers, as their child has lost all connection to her own identity and the identity of her own father.

Prologue

"Mom, why are we different?"

I've asked her this question too much to care that I probably won't finally get the answer that has been eating its way through my mind.

It's not a question with a simple answer.

I say 'we' but I mostly mean me, because I don't know who the other one is. The other "person" is a topic Momma tries very hard not to bring up. Usually on special occasions she blesses me with stories. Mommy says she doesn't talk about "him" for my sake, but again won't tell me the deeper reason why.

I cautiously try to bring that 'person' up as much as a can without triggering another fight. She told me to be wary of bringing 'him' up too much.

At least when Mom changes the topic I see remorse in her eyes.

She's knows how I'm feeling.

My momma.

A single parent…with a child like me, I guess that's pretty rough,

…and lonely.

She tries her best.

That's what she tells me.

….But it's not enough!

I'm so lonely.

So confused.

So scared.

…I want to see 'him'.

…I want to know 'him'.

I want back 'him' in my life so badly.

My daddy.

Of all places to be born, I was cursed with the sweltering lands of Baton Rouge.

I had no choice. For a girl wearing clothes that covers every single inch of her skin, mittens, tights and all, this place was not made for me.

Okay, not all true.

Growing up here was probably the safest place for someone like me.

At least that's what my mom says… okay minus the "like me" part. She never says stuff like that. But with all the trouble I cause her….I can't help but wonder.

And wonder.

And wonder.

I'm too afraid to ask her. One day I will.

Maybe…

I try not ask too much, but I always end up doing so eventually once I can't take it anymore.

Baton Rouge is secluded, with barely any neighbors. Thank god, the people here can be… intimidating. At least my momma is brave enough to scare them off. Wading our way from people has mostly been our lives.

Our little home is miles from any sign of rural civilization. Mostly swamp, trees…..and more swamp.

That means my school is far away too. Both a good thing and a bad thing.

I hate school,

and not for the just the ordinary reasons.

The car ride involves us getting up pretty early, and I sleep most of the way. The longer it takes to get there the better for me, but the worse for Momma.

I feel guilty for making Mommy go to so many difficult lengths for me.

For school, for the therapy and for the doctors.

But in the end that just makes her feel guiltier as well. She puts so much pressure on herself, to the point where she gets so frustrated she "breaks". At me or…herself?

I hear her cry sometimes when I can't sleep.

When I go to check on her, she tries to cover up. At first I thought she was crying because of me. Then I realized that is wasn't just about me…there was more.

She doesn't want me to know.

She misses Daddy.

Momma tries to fill me with new hope, saying that "if" 'he' comes back, I things would get better.

She immediately regretted telling me this.

My therapist, Dr. Pirrie told me it was something Momma said for herself rather than at me.

There were so many ways to interpret that.

She told me things about how people work and why they treat me the way they do.

Even going so far as to viciously criticize my mother's actions and my own, she tells me she enjoys the security from knowing how people work.

This woman frightens me.

Why do I still keep her, and always tell my mom that these appointments are helping me?

Because she's giving me answers.

Not all of them, or the ones I necessarily need, but they're something.

Apparently I'm "Emotionally Insecure", as Dr. P puts it in a way a kid like me understands as she says. Why do people always look down on me…is it just my age? Just because I'm young doesn't mean I can't see the pain or fear in others! I told her all that.

She says I over analyze every person's actions; including my own. Apparently I'm my own problem. ….and apparently this has become a part of who I am.

Even though she doesn't know everything about me or my problems! Her words still make me SO-SO-so…..confused.

I try not to show her what triggers me.

Otherwise I'd be all the more vulnerable to her lashing tongue.

"You're a very expressive individual, and you feel your emotions powerfully. Part of the problem is the nature of your environment. Forced into a daily routine where your freedom to express your anxiousness and get reassurance isn't present has repressed your advancement in socializing with others. What you say is others "hate your guts" even before they talk to you. You see the way others act if they are accepted and that's the reaction you expect if they like you or accept your…."hood problem". Sitting there and watching their every move, and trying to uncover why their reactions don't meet your expectations doesn't make you an expert and doesn't always mean its rejection. Being homeschooled has taken away your chance to have already picked up on other small things. Most of this could be all in your head-"

"NO IT ISN'T!"

"Just making sure. Maybe if you weren't so quick to defensiveness…those kids you actually start to like you."

"I didn't start off like that! They-"

"Pfft. You're doing it again. Stop blaming others for your misery. It's an unbecoming and ugly trait of yours. They see your fear and they feed off of it."

"Like you do?"

"…..I guess I can't expect all children to be raised with common courtesy. Especially from an overwhelmed mess of a mother like yours-"

"Stop."

"My mother was the same."

Her presence has taken its toll on me.

I've been subconsciously using my new found information, courtesy of Dr. Pirrie, against Momma. No one likes that, even when Dr. Pirrie does it to me I know I don't. Mom is getting curious to how I know these things at my age.

I'm not telling her. She doesn't tell me anythi-

Since when to I act like that? Sure I'm frustrated but I wouldn't-

Am I changing? Why? Whose fault?

The more I think about it the more I change. New theories that influence me are my only company.

My gut tells me I should stop looking at everything this way, before I become like Dr. P. Who from what I've learned from her has some kind of a "god-complex". I think that's what that book she gave me called it.

Her meetings are addictive, but I always end up feeling worse after it. She makes me think more, and me thinking usually brings me back to the dark place.

When I enter it's so hard to leave.

Yet, the more I've learned from Dr. P, the more I've been able to understand a smidge what the heck is going on with everyone.

So much so that I was finally able to realize why Mom told me "things would get better" on my own.

Even though now I knew it was her talking out loud, on emotion instead of thought among other things, it didn't change how I felt.

It only made me feel worse.

The 'if', the fact he may never come back to us, and that she tells me only stuff like that and leaves me in the dark about the rest. It drives me crazy and only makes the separation that more unbearable.

How would things get better?

Aside from the regular benefits of having another figure to look up to, to talk to, to hang out with, to be comforted by—I feel that 'he' is answer to all my questions.

Why am I like this?

Why is 'he' gone?

Why do I have these problems BLENDINGin with…..society?

Who I am?

What I am?

And why won't anyone tell why?

I HATE being ignored.

Being in the background.

My mom says it's best to just fade into the background just in case someone sees me literally do it.

But it's where I'm safest. No one can see me.

Or hurt me.

Even though not being noticed hurts just as much.

What's even more ironic is that me purposely being a wallflower is sometimes the very thing that draws attention to me. But….only the negative kind.

No longer could my Momma afford to home-school me.

For a while, I got along okay with most of the other kids. Many of them asked why I never took the purple hood down but I tried not to make it a big deal.

But it got worse the more they prided. They would get freaked out by how I reacted.

I didn't know how to handle it anymore. They just wouldn't let it go!

"I just do, okay!" "Do-don't touch it!" "You're being annoying, just drop it!"

"Please stop asking!" "STOP ASKING!" "JUST STOP!" "LET GO!" "STOP!"

They thought I was the one being mean, or calling attention. So to avoid their own embarrassment, they would retort back.

"Geez, what's your problem?" "Sorry. I'm just curious. Do you have a scar?!"

"Okay okay, why do you have to make things so weird?" "Fine I'll stop!"

"What the? Stop yelling!" "Shut up!" "Dude, you're so loud!"

"You're the one who embarrassing yourself!"

"Haha, calm down seriously people are looking"

"You're so WEIRD! Why are you yelling at me? Stop being a BITCH!"

People treat me different.

The hood made people see me differently.

That something was wrong with me, and they just had to freaking know!

It was painful barrier.

What started all this?

Fourth day of school, there was a boy named Jahal. He noticed me, mostly the fact that I never took off my hood.

We played Gator vs. Hunter on the jungle gym. I was the gator….I tried not to over analyze that part. I failed too but he let me take turns being the hunter sometimes. We'd be throwing mulch and dried wood at each other, and making secret bases on the end of the playground. He got other kids to join in. Five gators vs. Five hunters. Before recess was over, he ran over to me.

He said I was pretty.

Wait. What?

"Pretty? Pretty cool?"

"Nah uhhh you're pretty."

What a strange feeling. It was so exciting. I felt such a boost. A feeling of confusion took hold of my senses long enough not prepare me for what happened next.

Apparently he'd been putting so much courage into it. I later heard rumors that he'd been boasting about it to the other boys that he would try "something" on me. Boys put so much pressure on those things. I guess that made it more embarrassing for him.

He tried to take hold of my mitten covered hand.

This is going really fast, is this how it works?

His hand was so warm from the hot marsh coating his palms.

He looked right at me.

I felt like he was looking at me, really looking.

But apparently….. he needed a better look….

He then ripped off my hood.

In a state of panic I fidgeted myself out of his hold, slapped both his hands away.

"Why did you do that?" I freaked out. A yank my hood back on sloppily. Oh no. No. No. No. No. No. No. I would be in so much trouble with mom! I look to my hands. Still visible.

But then I look to Jahal.

He looked hurt. Rejected. He heard snickering from the other boys who were apparently hiding behind the walls of the school.

He felt pressured to defend himself.

"What the heck!? I-I just wanna see what look like!" He whined.

I whipped my hood back on, pulling the strings on tight to take away all view.

"I'm sorry! I just-just don't do that again okay. Don't ever touch me-I mean the hood."

We could hear the laughter getting louder. His face began to burn.

"Haha WOW." One of the boys cackled.

I pulled down my hood to see who keep chuckling.

Jahal's eyes began to turn red.

Oh god no.

No.

Please don't!

Please don't cry!

And just like that he bolted back inside the school.

I wanted to run after him but then the other boys got up and circled around me.

"You don't like him? Is he gross?" One asked.

I didn't reply. I just sunk against the wall into the grass. Not daring to look into their eyes.

"Um." He kept snickering and nudging to his friend next to him. "You want me to, um *snort*, get him for ya?"

"Just go away." I looked up.

All of them stared at me weirdly; their eyes making me feel so small.

They shrugged it off and left, like I didn't even matter anymore.

After that day, Jahal tried to ask again, and again, and again why I reacted that way and wouldn't take off the hood or my mittens either. It was so hot today, I really wish I could. I felt so light headed. So exhausted.

Again, the answer remained. I wish I could tell him. I felt so uncomfortable and I could tell he did too.

He would quit following me.

And he just kept pushing!

I felt so dang guilty….so trapped. People were starring.

He kept asking.

"Do you not like me?" I had it!

"It is what it is." I hissed in a tone I learned that from my mom.

The other boys, and now girls who were apparently in on the situation giggled.

"Jahal, just leave her alone. I think you're freaking her out. Pftt."

"Nuhh-uh. She's the one being freaky!" He said rather desperately. Some of the kids rolled their eyes and hunched at each other in agreement.

They didn't know anything!

All eyes on me.

After that everyone wanted to see me without my hood. It was like a contest I think.

They didn't know how important my hood being on was. They thought I was trying to make an excuse for not being with Jahal.

They all jumped to his rescue. The more I shunned them away from my hood, the more they felt compelled to jump on the band wagon.

Eventually they gave up and stop noticing me. While some wouldn't and continued to question and gawk at me about every little stinking thing I did. Not matter how small or pointless; it could somehow be worth teasing.

All this made every day like a ticking time bomb, making it so difficult to control my problem. It happens most when I get sad, angry, or scared.

Many sneak attacked me from behind, yanking off my hood.

Dubbing me with a plethora of demeaning names.

Ruining my chances with other kids.

All purposely glaring at me.

Playing the game Gator vs. Hunter, nine hunters vs. one pathetic gator.

I wanted them to stop.

I didn't want mom to know. She must think I'm such a burden. I'm tired of her always telling me what to do. She always handles my problems and we both suffer because of it! I can take care of myself! I say that, but still I keep failing! Something is wrong with me. Even though she keeps trying to tell me otherwise, it doesn't change a thing!

Even though it pained me, I did what I thought was my only option and I told the teacher on them.

Who then told my mom.

That backfired, and made it worse.

Phone calls were made from school to parent, to my mom, to my aunt…and to Grandma.

Non-stop screams were exchanged between Momma and the forever active phone.

Momma looked like a wreck.

It was my fault.

But I tried the only way I could.

The way Mom told to do so.

And I still failed!

They chose to treat me like this. No one told them…right?

Would it even matter?

I feel like I don't matter.

I feel like a….stupid pathetic waste.

Like a dead gator.