So I decided to make this chapter a bit shorter than the other chapters, but this time Remy is going through the support he gets, and poor Remy, I felt bad that I made him haunted by his nightmares. Lately, I've been addicted to a song called "Somebody Help Me" by Full Blown Rose, and I think it can somehow relate to how Remy feels after his nightmare. Anyway, enjoy my chapter. I'll be writing more!


It was still in the dim of the night when Remy was patting for air, hypnotized by his nightmare. He looked, and found that Linguini and Colette were asleep together in bed. He was relieved to find himself and his dear friend alive and well out of Skinner's reach, but the possessed-minded dream was too haunting that Remy was afraid to dare fall back asleep. All he could picture was Skinner slashing his knife around causing the scent of blood to accord. Small footsteps approached the shelf by the window, and were climbed up closer towards Remy. Remy's stomach curled numb, and he almost froze by the smell of footsteps, hoping it wasn't Skinner. To be surprised, it was only his brother, Emile, and his father, Django.

"Hi, Remy," said Emile. "How come you can't sleep?"

"Yeah, what's the matter, son? Something bugging you?" asked Django.

"Well…I…" muttered Remy.

"You don't have to say it if you don't want to," encouraged Django. "We just want to help you."

It seemed pointless to Remy to try to figure out how the heck he could possibly explain his nightmare. They probably won't understand, Remy thought to himself, and sighed. Every second he tried to think, he couldn't help thinking how forsaken it would be to reveal the truth to his own family, his feelings for Linguini, for no rat could understand any possible love for a human that could probably never be. His brown chocolate-coated eyes stared at his parents, as he tried to speak but finally decided to.

"I had a nightmare," was all he could say.

Both Django and Emile were surprised. "What kind of nightmare, son?" asked Django.

Remy sighed again. "Skinner."

"Oh, Skinner, the chef that was after you and Linguini is in your dream?" Emile exclaimed. "I never thought of that before."

"It was terrible," explained Remy. "I merely thought that I would never dream this but I did. I was in the kitchen at night when the restaurant was closed, and I could smell…blood. I followed the smell and found Linguini with a knife in his chest, the scariest thing I've seen. I tried to clean him, and save him, and I tried looking for help, and the Skinner came along, and stabbed me clean to the floor. I tried to escape, but the pain was too much for me. He then picked me up, and stabbed me in the back and then stabbed me in my heart, and then all of the sudden I woke up from darkness, and here I am, telling you this. It's about time I rethink my nightmares, if I ever can."

"Oh brother, I'm sorry," said Emile.

"This nightmare might be hard to erase," said Django. "Some nightmares attach to you for a long time, perhaps for the rest of your life."

"As long as nothing happens, I'm sure my dream will be nothing in any time," said Remy. "But then again, I'm not sure."

"Hey, kiddo, we're here to help you in every way we can, and anytime you need us, we'll be here for you," said Django.

"Thank you," Remy replied, tiredly, then giving his dad and Emile each a hug.

"No problem, buddy," said Emile.

"Well, we better get going to sleep ourselves, and Remy, you too, get some good night's rest," said Django. "You'll be just as busy tomorrow as any other day."

"Yeah, it's typical," said Remy, rubbing the back of his head.

"G'night, Remy!" said Emile, turning away.

"Good night, Remy, we love you," said Django.

"Good night, and I will always love you, too," said Remy, waving.

Remy watched as his father and brother disappeared into the darkness, leaving him along to the view he turned to of the beauty of Parisian lights and the Eiffel Tower that stood tall and strong. He then climbed into his bed, and snuggled under the covers, despite the dream he had, he was proud to have family and friend to support him. Though to him, it seemed like the humans and rats were all like a family to him. Which would he choose? Both. He then sealed his eyes, and drifted into a sweet slumber, trying to forget the nightmares, and hope for a day to spend cooking with humans and for the humans and of course his family. He knew his family had always been there for him, and so he continued to sleep without a distraction until the morning sun would rise.