A New Sky

A/N: Thank you very much for the reviews and favourites! It means so much to me that people like my work, and it helps me to continue on with Belle's story! This chapter is dedicated to my favourite (and only) reviewer, Kami74! So here we go with Chapter Three!

Chapter Three

Belle's eyes narrowed with impatience. Fairies, really? Her look was one of complete disbelief. In her eyes, this was one huge anti-climax. Dale wasn't usually the type to make up silly stories to trick people, but she was sure he was this time. Maybe he was going through some sort of phase for attention? She sighed deeply and looked at the ground for a moment, before her large, hazel eyes diverted to her younger brother. In the dark of the room there was only a small reflection of light in them, coming from the slit of natural sun from the partially open door. Her hand reached out to his knee, where she patted it comfortingly. She smiled gently, trying not to seem to condescending, before taking a deep breath, allowing her words to flow freely without offense.

"Dale? Are you sure it wasn't just a dream? Or are you making this up, because it's not good to lie, you know that, you're the goody two shoes of the family." Her expression became serious as she looked him right in the eyes, a look her mother would give when she was trying to wrangle the truth out of Aaron when he came up with excuses such as 'I did my homework on the bus!' She was certain it would work, she looked so much like her mother when she pulled this face, and she'd used it on Cleo and Emily a fair few times.

Dale's mouth dropped open and nothing came from it for a moment. Belle tilted her head to the side, and Dale looked at the floor, his leg beginning to swing back and forth, hitting the wood of the bedframe as he did so. He began to mumble. "I knew you wouldn't believe me. I sound mad."

Belle rolled her eyes. Having so many siblings, you grew used to the guilt trip the younger ones gave you when you said something that upset them or if you didn't give them their own way. She wrapped her arm around Dale's neck comfortingly. "Well it sounds mad, brother. Why would you say something like that? What did you expect me to think?" Dale looked at her, their heads right by each other now.

"I expected you to believe me – you're the nicest sibling, and the only one who listens to me at all. I know what I saw, and I'm sticking by it Belle. You don't have to help me investigate or listen to my words at all – but promise you won't tell anybody, I don't want to be bullied by everyone." Belle felt a bit guilty now, her mouth dropping into a frown. She guessed Dale was the only one who could understand how she felt – a little bit of an outcast, worried about constantly by their parents – only for different things. With her it was her eating, and with Dale it was his lack of friends or ability to make some. She released her light grip from around his neck and grabbed onto her little brother's hand.

"Okay." Belle started, sighing. "Take me to where it happened Dale." She wanted to at least show him support – yes he was wrong and he'd been dreaming or something, but at least she could show him something nobody else in the family could, and that was belief, and help him. After all, what else were family for?

Dale squeezed her hand tightly, and Belle grinned. Dale was a bookworm, but he wasn't good at getting his words across to others in an emotional sense. He never said he loved his parents or siblings, and he never showed joy or sadness or even anger – he was simply too introverted to be able to do it. So Belle knew that squash of her hand was a thank you – and it made her happy that he was comforted by her presence, and her belief in him.

Dale led the way, pulling Belle along gently behind him, out of the girl's bedroom and along the landing, to the next flight of stairs, which led to Dale, Francesca and Fill's room. Belle knew he detested sharing the same living space as the twins – they could be such a handful at times and he wasn't the type who liked to entertain children, like Cleo was. Belle felt the same way about sharing though, she couldn't wait until Aaron moved out and she was the eldest, because it meant she could finally have a room all to herself. Entering the very top room of the townhouse, Dale dropped Belle's hand and walked over to the window, peering out cautiously. Her head tilted ever so gently to the side, her eyes puzzled.

Dale gestured for her to come closer with one hand, and so she followed, her eyes scanning the usual view from the house, which from this room, was the garden. She was lost in thought, when her sibling broke the silence. "This was where I saw…it." His voice was starting to sound doubtful. Maybe even he was beginning to doubt himself? He was a rational boy, after all, and not the type to go chasing after little pixies. Belle nodded slowly, clearing her throat. "What, erm…did it look like?"

"It was like…a sparkle. A really bright sparkle, almost like a firework. It whizzed around this room, making a sound quite like a little bell. I only saw it for two seconds before it went zooming straight out of this open window." Dale tapped gently on the glass segment which had been opened, before pushing it even further open. "Be careful." Belle noted softly, an instinctual phrase when having younger siblings.

"How do you know it will come back?" She couldn't believe how ridiculous the words that were spouting out of her mouth were. Why was she going along with this game she had no clue, but she was giving Dale confidence and that was what she had set out to do. Dale turned to face her and buried his hand in his pocket, mumbling away. "Where is it…oh, here." He pulled something miniscule out of it. "I'm hoping it will come back for this. It dropped it I think." Belle eyed the object closely. It was hard to make out, but it was shining and gold. Now her interest was peaking. "Let me have a look." Dale dropped it into her palm, and went back to his watch at the window.

It seemed to be a tiny little…horn! Almost like a musical instrument of sorts. How peculiar! It was shiny, and barely the size of her pinky fingernail. She closed her fist around it carefully, before going to sit on Dale's bed. Her eyes lingered up to the ceiling, and something odd caught her gaze. It looked like there was a trail of something over the glossed white surface – glitter? Maybe the twins had gotten a bit overboard with their school art projects, but she couldn't be sure. "Hey Dale, did the twins create that mess on the ceiling?" She pointed to it as her brother rotated to look. His mouth dropped open and he clambered onto the bed, looking up at it closely. "I've n-never seen it before!"

Belle's eyebrows raised. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was cut off by the sound of her mother calling up to them. "Children, come back downstairs! The McIntyre's are leaving, come and say goodbye!" Dale groaned quietly and left quickly and obediently. She opened her hand up and looked down at the strange object, before quickly thrusting it into her pocket, and darting out of the door and down to the ground floor.

…

"We had a splendid time, Leonard, Marian. I look forward to the next time we get together. Our place?" Mr. McIntyre was beaming all over his face as he shook their father's hand with enthusiasm. Belle smiled gently – this could only mean good things for her father's job. A shy, sweet Olivia McIntyre walked through the hallway leading to the front door, shaking every child's hand as she went like royalty, and telling them it was her pleasure to meet them. Penny simply nodded her head in acknowledgement as she pulled on her fleece, and Ike gave Belle a small squeeze on the hand as he passed her, sending shivers up her spine and making her grin like a fool. She covered her mouth quickly, hoping nobody had seen.

"Bye now, have a safe drive home!" Leonard ushered the much smaller family out of the door, and gestured for the rest of the family to join him out in the driveway, as they waved them off on their journey. The car pulled out, reversed into the road and drove off up the street. Marian yawned.

"I'm tired. And I'm sure you lot must be too." She scooped little Harry up into her arms, nuzzling his chocolate brown curls into her nose. Mr. Nicholson picked up Grace and did likewise, before taking them up the stairs to bed.

Francesca and Fillmore were beginning to yawn, rubbing their small freckled faces with tiredness, and Francesca was beginning to suck her thumb which usually meant she was getting tired. Dale looked at Belle with an alarmed look at the pair, then gestured for her to come with him, and so she followed him into the kitchen.

"Belle! They can't go to sleep yet, we still have important investigating to do!" Belle was still rather distracted by the brief physical contact with the gorgeous Ike, and so was still somewhat in another world, a long pale finger coming up to tussle in her dark brown locks, eyes dreaming. Dale cleared his throat impatiently. "Belle! We have a crisis at hand here!"

Belle blinked and her head turned once again to look at her slightly distressed younger brother. Her lips parted slightly and a small, breathy sigh left them, as she looked at her feet. "Dale…" She looked up at the lighting on the kitchen ceiling, before sharpening her words and looking back to him. She placed a caring hand upon his scrawny right shoulder, and looked into his eyes. "I just wanted to give you confidence in me, and know that I will always be here for you, Dale. Know that I will always be your big sister and will help you however I can. But this seems like a bit of a lost cause. Looking at this…" Belle pulled the small, horn like instrument out of her pocket and showing it to him. "This could be a part to one of Emily's old dolls or something."

Dale's eyes saddened but his mouth opened to protest. "What about the glitter on the ceiling of our bedroom? How do you explain that?" Belle rolled her eyes. "Really Dale. You share a room with two of the naughtiest, clumsiest children in Britain. It's just a coincidence. I've showed you my support now Dale, and if you can't accept that, well then so be it. If you want to keep chasing this fairy tale, then do so, but not with my help. You're meant to be the rational one of the family, and yet you're telling silly stories. I don't know what's gotten into you but I hope you snap out of it real soon." Belle's eyes were beginning to shine with concern, and she dropped the tiny horn into Dale's open palm before turning and walking away, towards the kitchen door. Pausing for a moment, she leaned up against the frame and her head peered over her own shoulder, smiling at her confused younger sibling. "I'm sorry. I promise I won't tell anyone Dale. Your secret is safe with me."

…

As Belle readied herself for bed, she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror above the sink, wiping the residue of toothpaste from around her full, pale pink lips. She mustered a smile to herself in the mirror, though it was very half hearted. With all of the earlier shenanigans of the day out of her mind, Belle thought of Ike, and what he might be doing right that moment. This thought made her smile widely, cheering herself up a considerable amount, and even caused light spots of blush to appear on her delicate cheeks, as she swept a long lock of her dark hair back and behind her ear.

KNOCK! KNOCK! BANG!

Belle flinched with shock, her hand leaving her ear and placing itself over her heart. "Belle, get out! I need to get in and put on my face mask!" Belle rolled her eyes then giggled. Emily was so many years ahead of her time. Face masks? The thought of an eleven year old being so obsessed with health and beauty was admirable yet absurd. Pulling her nightgown over her pale, bare skin, she smiled and opened the door. "I'm out, I'm out." She mussed up Emily's hair with her hand briefly, causing her to moan and groan. Belle giggled as she paced along the hallway, hearing the bathroom door slam behind her.

Climbing into her now cold, but soft bed, Belle did what she did every single night – go over the events of the day. And every time she did so, she would pull out her diary from under her bed, unlock the tiny padlock that was keeping her secrets within, and scribble all of the memories down, for fear of forgetting them forever. It was a silly little thing really. Belle believed (her grandmother had told her once) that by doing this she would improve her memory greatly. She wasn't much of a writer but she liked writing her diary. So pen came to paper and everything began to spill out in biro ink. The guests of the day, eating nearly every morsel on her plate, sitting outside on the swing with Ike, him squeezing her hand on the way out, Cleo and Em teasing her…Soon enough, Belle felt her eyes become itchy and irritated with lack of sleep, and so she locked up the diary, shoved it under her bed, turned her bedside lamp off, and drifted into a peaceful and sweet slumber.