"Daddy!"

It was like having cold water thrown over him, the sharp needle like pain of the icy liquid sending his body into shock and forcing him to bolt upright in a disoriented struggle with the sheet and blanket tangled around him which posed as the unseen assailant who had awoken him.

"Daddy!"

"Bella?"

The darkness of his room forced him to squint in search of the source of his daughter's distraught voice, the sound drawing him deeper into his battle with removing the obstacles around him.

"Daddy!"

Suddenly aware of himself, he half hazardly threw back the blankets and darted from the bed, tripping over the bedding in the process and ending up face first on the ground. Knees and elbows throbbing, he half stumbled half crawled around his doorframe, the sight of fire light flickering in her bedroom spiking fear in his core.

"Bella!"

Quickly picking up the extinguisher he'd placed in the hall closet, he bounded through her door only to find himself abruptly assaulted with smoke.

A cough built in his throat as he peered across the room to find her sitting in her bed, tears streaking her face as she clutched Trigger in her arms, her eyes fixed on her flaming curtains.

"Stay where you are," he shouted as he made haste toward the window, pulling the cap off the extinguisher as he went. A mass of foam burst from the end of the tube, showering the flames that were now licking the ceiling, leaving a blackened area where it touched. Aiming higher, he moved closer to the window as the flames began to extinguish, the heat from the area nearly too much to stand.

When the last of the fire was out, he quickly set the extinguisher down with the intent to flip the latch on the window so he could rid the room of some of the thick smoke. However, his lack of foresight had him jerking his hand back, his fingers singed at the tips.

Biting back a curse, he flexed his fingers as he reached for a shirt close to his feet and managed to successfully get the window open, allowing fresh air to waft in and cleanse the room.

"Daddy?"

"It's alright, sweetheart," he whispered as he tossed the shirt onto her dresser and moved to pick her up with the intention to get her out of the smoke. However, halfway to the door, she began wildly wiggling in his arms.

"Trigger!" She pointed over his shoulder in near panic. "Daddy, don't leave him!"

Briskly turning back for the stuffed puppy, he scooped it up and took one last glance at the once purple curtains before making his way out the door and pulling it closed.

After he had her safely in the bathroom, he sat her on the edge of the sink and began worriedly checking her for signs of injury, his eyes roaming over her pale blue pajama shirt and pants.

"Are you hurt?" He caught her chin and turned her head side to side, inspecting her skin for marks. "Did it burn you anywhere?"

"No," she whispered as she sniffed and tried to peer between his arms. "Is Trigger ok?"

Brow drawn tight, he ran his hands down her arms. "Bella, look at me."

Her eyes, red and puffy, met his, terror clinging in them.

"I want Trigger."

Breathing a sigh of relief that she was at least well enough to ask for that ratty toy, he bent over to pick up the puppy he'd dropped to the tile floor.

"What happened?" he asked as he placed the animal in her lap. "Did you have another nightmare?"

Dark stands of hair fell in front of her face as she dropped her gaze to Trigger, who she was now clutching close to her chest.

"It's alright, Trigger," she whispered to the puppy. "Daddy, stopped the bad thing."

"What bad thing?" he asked as he slipped his fingers under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. "Answer me, Bella."

Her small shoulders turned inward as she shook her head. "Can I sleep with you, daddy?"

The lack of a straight answer had him tiredly running a hand down his face as he took a step back and leaned against the wall.

He couldn't do this anymore. The past three nights had been the same.

From the window cracking to fire's climbing the walls, things had began to spiral too far out of his control. If something didn't happen to help him change this for the better soon, he wasn't sure they'd have a house to live in for much longer.

For two hours after she'd fallen asleep, he'd sat in the chair in the corner of her bedroom, praying they would have at least one night of peace. It seemed such a luxury wasn't something they were going to be having again in the foreseeable future.

"Daddy, are you mad at me?"

The fear in her voice, joined by sorrow and despair, tugged his eyes open to find her staring at him from her place on the edge of the sink, her chin tucked behind Trigger's head, her eyes on the brink of more tears.

"I didn't do it on purpose, I promise."

Heart heavy with his inability to do anything that might solve this, he resumed his place in front of her and cupped her cheeks.

"None of this is your fault." His thumbs caught a few tears which had escaped. "But I promise this won't continue."

"Are you going to make it go away forever?" she asked while wiping at her runny nose. "I don't want to be special anymore."

Unsure of how to respond for fear of making things worse, or promising something he couldn't fulfill, he forced a smile.

"Come on," he said while lifting her up. "Let's get some sleep."

"With you?" Her arms wrapped around his neck. "So you can protect me?"

"Always."

"Bella, Aunt Jenny is going to be here for you any minute!"

Hurriedly placing her scattered books and homework in her backpack, he did his best to think of anything he might be forgetting. Despite his remarkable memory, he was always forgetting something she needed and the fact that he was functioning on less than two hours of sleep helped nothing.

"Daddy, I can't find my shoes!"

"They're in the bathroom," he yelled back as he pulled her lunch from the fridge and added it to the contents of her backpack.

When she finally came trudging down the hallway, sneakers in hand and a sour expression on her face, she said, "You didn't wash my jumper."

Damn it.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he softly apologized as he picked her up and set her on the barstool so he could put on her sneakers. "Daddy forgot."

"I told you three times, daddy," she groaned, holding the appropriate amount of fingers up as she sagged down on the stool. "You never listen."

"You told me two times," he countered as he slipped on the first sneaker. "And I apologized."

She sighed and crossed her arms, dissatisfaction plain in her countenance. How a small girl could convey so much disdain was ridiculous. It was another reason Katrina could never deny he was her father. Bella was the only person he knew who could out complain him.

"Your blouse looks wonderful on you." He winked at her. "You'll most certainly be the loveliest girl in class."

She shrugged her shoulders as her gaze focused on her shoes, deep conflict swirling in her stormy eyes. If he didn't know any better, he'd say all the joy had permanently been sucked from her.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He ran his fingers through her hair in the hopes of drawing her out of her current mood. "Are you feeling ill again?"

"Why do I have to be different, daddy?"

The way she said it, all soft and innocent, struck him so much of Katrina he could hardly ignore it. She tended to shift between their personalities like a light switch and he could barely stand it some days.

This would be her first day back at school since her incident as he hadn't wanted to chance any more accidents. So far, during the day, she didn't have magical flares and, thankfully, Katrina's remedy had managed to soothe the stomach aches for a few hours at a time.

"Because you're just like your mother," he whispered, the words feeling strange on his lips.

Bella's eyes flickered up to his, wide and confused. "I am?"

It should never have been a question.

For years, he'd been conflicted over what to reveal about Katrina and what to keep to himself. Always on a tightrope, he danced around the subject like a clumsy fool, only giving the barest and brightest facts of what her mother had been. However, it seemed he'd been far too silent if Bella didn't even know she was like her mother at all.

"Oh, yes," he answered as he slid on her other sneaker. "Do you ever think about her?"

A timid nod was his answer; one so small and hesitant he nearly missed it.

"Why don't you ask me about her anymore?" He was genuinely curious. "At one time, you asked after her every day."

Her eyes flickered to his for a moment before quickly darting back to her shoes. "Because it makes you sad."

Startled by her response, he pulled her laces tight and kept his head down. Had he been so obvious? Had he allowed his own feelings to control him so deeply that his young child had caught on well enough that she ceased her questioning altogether? His heart began beating wildly in his chest as he dropped her foot and stood.

"It does make me sad," he admitted as he lifted his gaze to find her watching him, her eyes wide and curious. "But that's only because I miss her so desperately." Then, with a sigh, he added, "Sweetheart, if you want to know things about your mother, I want you to know that I'll speak of her with you."

A moment ticked by before the small question he'd dreaded since she'd learned what a mother was came.

"Where is my mommy?"

"She's... not here." He ran his fingers through his hair, wishing he had a more eloquent and heartfelt story for her. Instead, he deflected the question. "But you have Abbie and Jenny and I know you love them."

"I know," she said, kicking the heels of her feet against the stool legs while avoiding his eyes. "But they don't live here and Aunt Abbie always works and Aunt Jenny's like my friend."

"Well..." He thought of Betsy and the ever evolving question of who she was to him; a question for which he would soon need an answer. "What if I married? Would that make you happy? You'd have a mother, then."

"But she wouldn't be my mommy." Bella finally looked him straight in the eyes. "I want my mommy, daddy; the one in the picture. I don't want to be like Crystal Sanders and get some weird lady who doesn't look like me."

A horn blew outside, signaling Jenny's arrival.

Barely able to breathe a sigh of relief over the end of that conversation, he tiredly watched Bella jump from the barstool and slip into her backpack.

Gathering the juice and pop tart he'd set out for her, he grabbed her hand and led her out the door toward Jenny's idling truck.

"Hi, Aunt Jenny."

Jenny grinned as Bella hoped into the back seat.

"Hey, munchkin. You ready to go?"

"Not really," Bella groaned as she tossed her backpack into the seat next to her.

"Hey," he said as he leaned into the car and set her breakfast in her lap. "I think you're forgetting something, little miss."

Her brow drew together as he tapped his cheek.

It wasn't a second before a smile broke out over her face and she smacked his cheek.

"Love you, daddy."

Worriedly running his fingers through her hair, he whispered, "I love you too, sweetheart."

Carefully shutting the door, he walked around to the driver's side as Jenny stepped out.

"You sure she's ready to go back? We still haven't really found a solution, yet."

Shrugging his shoulders, he glanced through the back window to find Bella immersed in a book as she munched on her pop tart.

"I need you to tell me about Katrina," he said, dropping his eyes to his shoes.

"Why? Did your visit not tell you enough?"

Jerking his gaze to Jenny, he found her rolling her eyes.

"Oh, come on, Crane." She leaned against the truck. "You come back with handwritten ingredients for a remedy two hours into your late night walk and expect me to believe you just came up with them out of the blue?"

The only energy he had left seeped from him. "Does Abbie know?"

Fear had his muscles tense, ready to flee at any moment. Abbie was not someone he ever wanted angry with him. If she ever was, history told him that meant he was likely in the wrong and that was not a place he wanted to be in now. He had too many issues to also deal with such a touchy subject.

"No," Jenny answered. "I don't think Abbie believes you'd ever visit Katrina. I think she assumed you'd pulled it from a book somewhere and I didn't want to be the one to correct her."

He couldn't blame her. It was a conversation he dreaded having and one he intended to delay for as long as possible.

"Do you think Katrina's sane?"

"Why do you care, now? You said before that you never wanted to know anything about her."

He kicked at the pavement. "I didn't have a terrified little girl, then."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Crane." Jenny crossed her arms. "Have I walked in to find her lying on the floor, weeping to the point that she couldn't breathe? Yeah, I've seen that. I've also seen what a pissed witch locked in a cage looks like, too. I've seen her throw things, break things, and writhe all over the place like she was possessed while cursing you, Abbie, and everyone else she could think of. She's threatened to kill all of us a hundred times over, cursed the day she met you, and said quite a few other things I don't even feel comfortable repeating. All in all, I'd say she's at least touched insanity for sure."

Eyes falling closed, he leaned against the hood in an attempt to hold himself together and possibly stop the slight shake his body had started. He blamed the lack of sleep for his weakness.

"Katrina lost everything and she reacted accordingly," Jenny went on.

"That was her fault," he whispered. "She made the choices; she made all of the choices."

"You mean like the one where she gave up her son, went on the run, and was imprisoned in Purgatory all because she couldn't bear to let you die?"

Bristling at the implication, he growled, "That's not an excuse."

"No, it's not." Jenny chuckled. "Look, I'm not defending her. She went crazy and she's a level of selfish I've never seen before, but..."

"But what?" he asked, turning to face her, his brow drawn tight. "How can there possibly be a 'but'?"

Jenny shifted in discomfort and glanced at Bella. "I just... seeing her screaming for her baby..."

Narrowing his eyes, he felt his skin prickle as he asked, "You think I was wrong to take Bella from her?"

"I think... Katrina wanted unconditional love, something you stopped giving her a long time before she switched sides, and that was something she would have obtained through her baby." She shook her head. "In my honest opinion, I don't think Katrina would ever do anything to hurt Bella, but as someone who loves that kid, myself, and as someone who knows what Katrina is capable of... No, I don't think you were wrong to keep them apart."

"Then, what do I do now, Jenny?" He held out his hands, desperate for an answer. "We can't attempt to bind her magic on our own. What if we do it wrong? Or something happens? I'm not willing to risk Bella in such a way."

"You do whatever you have to do for your daughter and we'll figure it out from there."

"Aunt Jenny, we're going to be late."

Lifting his head, he found Bella leaning out the back window with a rather perturbed look on her face.

"Yeah, yeah," Jenny muttered as she climbed into her truck. "Get back in the car and chill out, Miss grouchy pants."

Bella rolled her eyes and plopped back in her seat as he moved to open her door.

"If you need anything, you call me, understand?" He pulled her seatbelt back around her and secured it. "I'll come straight away."

"I know, daddy."

Tapping her nose, he earned a giggle as he backed away and closed the door.

While the truck pulled out, he watched them drive away with a growing dread in his heart.

He couldn't spend another day like this.

Next up: A heated argument. A desperate bargain.