Author's Notes: I really like this chapter, to be honest. Hopefully you will, too! :)

-Warnings-

This chapter talks about bullying and depression. Very minor injuries are seen.

*Monty's POV*

Though he would not show it as easily as Waylon, Monty was very worried. But he channeled his worry into anger. The secretary hadn't had time to explain in detail, but she had told him that Addy had done nothing wrong, at least not with intent. He knew that was a nice way of saying that someone had hurt her, emotionally or physically. Someone had laid a blatant attack on one of the two people his shriveled black heart was soft for. And that made Charles Montgomery Burns very, very angry, to say the least.

They pulled into the school and parked their vehicle, then Waylon hurried to open the door for Monty. He stepped out, and they made their way to Principal Skinner's office. As they walked in, they saw two students sitting across from Skinner. In one chair was Addy, holding a bag of ice to her black eye.

It took all of Burns' self control not to have Smithers strangle the other student then and there. Instead, he and his husband stood on either side of their child, placing protective hands on her shoulders.

"Ah, Mr. Burns and Mr. Smithers. Please, take a seat and let me explain the situation." Skinner said. Waylon pulled up a chair for Monty to sit directly across from Skinner, then took his own seat on the other side of Addy.

"Now," Skinner began, "I've talked to the students and some witnesses, and what we seem to have here is a classic schoolyard skirmish. Joey here," he gestured towards the large fifth grader, "Was seen, according to other students, harassing Addy. After a bit of this, he became violent and Addy used self defense. At this point, a teacher was notified and the fight was broken up quickly.

That brings us here now because we need to talk to the parents and then decide on disciplinary action. We already spoke with Joey's. Now, Joey, do you have anything to say to Addy's parents?"

The boy looked at them defiantly. "Not really. I did what I did. Whatever."

A forked tongue licked Burns' lips as he thought of what tortures he'd lay upon this boy if he owned the school. He turned to Skinner, crossing his legs and folding his hands. "And what punishments did you have in mind?"

"Well, we were thinking a few detentions for Joey; bullying isn't all that uncommon a problem in modern schools."

Monty's eyes flashed, peering into Skinner's very soul. "I see. So, you're going to give this boy who beat up the innocent child of the most powerful man in town just a few detentions for charges of bullying and assault?"

"N-no, M-Mr. Burns!" Skinner stammered, "I meant to say that...uh...bullying is not so uncommon a problem, and we have no tolerance for it. So the action shall be one day of in school-"

There was that tongue again.

"I-I mean three! Three days out of school suspension, no make-up work permitted!"

The tongue slid back into Burns' mouth.

"Yes, that should be a worthy discipline." Skinner said, hurriedly writing out the notes for Joey's family and the Smithers-Burns family.

Burns snatched it up and stood. "Thank you, Skinner. Now, if you'll excuse us, we will be taking our daughter home." Smithers and Addy stood as well and followed Monty out of the school and to the limo.

Waylon took the driver's seat as usual, while Monty and Addy sat in the back. Monty held her close and he could tell that she was tired from the fight, as she was soon asleep in his lap. He frowned, unhappy with her current state, and was especially keen to ask her if she was indeed depressed. But for now he would let her rest.

...

*General POV*

After a few more minutes, they pulled into Burns Manor. Waylon parked the limo, then helped Monty and Addy out. As they were walking up, Addy yawning between paces, Monty whispered in Waylon's ear. "You need to talk to her about the depression issue, and also see if she has other injuries. Her personality is more similar to yours, so perhaps she'll be more receptive than she would be with me."

"Of course, sir. I'll take care of it right away." He said, trying to make it look like they were talking about the plant.
As Waylon unlocked the door, Addy leaned against his leg, and he gently but firmly grabbed her hand. "Now, let's go get you cleaned up. Then we have to have a talk with Daddy."

He went with her to her upstairs bathroom . He let her wash her face while he went to her room and got some fresh clothes. As he came back in, he set them on the counter and kneeled in front of her. "Now, Sweetie, you don't have to take your whole shirt off if you don't want to, but Daddy needs to see if you got hurt in other places too, okay?"

She was hesitant. "I don't know, I don't want to show you the others."

At least he now knew for sure that there were others. Though it was not a very comforting at least. "I know, Sweetie, but I've gotta make sure you're okay. I won't be mad if there's more, I promise. And besides, wouldn't you rather I be the one to react to them than Monty? You know how he gets. I'll stay calm, I promise."

The young girl nodded and lifted her shirt up to reveal the areas of her back, rib cage, and navel. There were several more bruises, some of them large and incredibly dark, and his heart hurt for his child. He noticed that she had scrapes on her elbows and knees as well.

"I assume the bruises are from punching, maybe kicking, but how did you get the scrapes?"

"He pushed me onto the sidewalk."

He internally sighed in sadness. "Ah, I see." They certainly weren't the worst injuries she could have, but it broke his heart to see her get hurt at all. "Well, Daddy's gonna patch you up and make you feel better, okay?" He kissed her forehead.

"Okay, Daddy."

He began putting ointment on the scrapes, but before he put the last bit on her right elbow, she lifted it up. "Can you kiss it?"

He nodded and gently kissed the spot. "Thank you, Daddy. It feels a little better now."

"No problem, sweetie," he said as he applied ointment to it and then put the band-aids on her. "So, Addy...why didn't you tell us? Its not safe for you to hide things like this from us. How long has it been going on?"

She looked down at the floor. "For almost as long as I've been in school...the hitting was more recent, though. That started last year...You remember a few weeks ago when you asked if I was okay when we were at dinner? And how that same day I was late to meet you after school? Well...I was late because I was getting beat up by some older kids...

I should have run to you or fought back, I know." She wiped her eyes. "But I was too scared to say anything."

Interestingly enough, those were the same words he'd told Monty when he admitted his love for the older man. She looked down at the ground, ashamed of herself. "I'm so stupid and useless."

If it was ever possible to hear a heart break, a loud cracking would have been heard escaping from Waylon Smithers' chest. He hugged her tightly and she curled her head against his neck. "Don't ever say that about yourself, Sweetie. Please. You're not stupid and you are certainly not useless."

"But I just feel so bad lately. I don't know why. I just wake up and I'm sad and then when I'm with you and Daddy it makes me feel good enough to smile for a few minutes, even though part of me is still sad inside, but then I go to bed and I'm still sad and then it starts all over again. And it makes me feel tired, but not in a sleepy way, and I don't know what to do about it."

He held her close. "We need to go talk to Daddy about this, okay?"

She nodded and he took her hand warmly in his, then walked her back downstairs to one of the sitting rooms, where Monty was waiting at the head of a large table. They joined him.

"So, Monty," Waylon began, "Addy and I had a talk about how she's been feeling. Addy, do you want to tell Daddy what you told me?"

She nodded and quietly gave him an elaboration similar to the one she gave Waylon. Monty sat and listened, contemplating. Once she was done he spoke up calmly. "Well, my dear, what you feel is something that many people have experienced. The best thing we can do about it, is to help you with whatever your needs are. Is there anything you need to tell us in that realm as of now?"

For one little moment her heart told her to say it. It could be so quick. Maybe it wouldn't go so bad. After all, it was nothing wrong and nothing that she could help. But then the moment was gone and her timidness overtook her, making her look into his eyes and say, "No, Daddy. At least, not any specific things. I think maybe I'd feel a little better if I played with you and Daddy more." The latter was true. Loneliness often afflicted her, and she believed some good old fashioned play time might help, as she had mostly played alone as of recent.

Waylon smiled a bit, tendered by the simple, childish desire. If she did have some sort of clinical depression, it made sense that having company might help her. Monty nodded, "Of course, dearest. When you need us, don't be afraid to say so. We will always help you when we can."

She smiled very slightly, comforted a bit, then excused herself to her room. She went into the closet, taking out a pair of shorts and going to her restroom. Flicking on the light, she tried them on, happily prancing about in them, imagining herself looking different than the way she did now. She was made so happy not because they were shorts; in fact, she wasn't fond of skirts, and so had many shorts and suits. No, what made her happy was something far more simple, yet far deeper, than the fact that they were shorts.

She smiled at herself one last time before taking them off, then looked at her reflection sadly.

Would she ever be able to tell her parents what was really bothering her?