~*~Chapter Ten~*~
"I have to take him back the nursery now," the nurse said as she approached Miranda's bed. Miranda held onto her son fearfully. She knew that he was outside in the hall somewhere. She knew he had come for her son. She looked at the nurse. "Ohhh... okay," she said, reluctantly handing the baby over to her. 'The nurse took the baby and walked away and Miranda watched them go.
Miranda shifted in her sleep. Peter, too, had fallen asleep. Unlike Miranda, he was resting comfortably as he held her in his embrace. He had no idea that his wife was having a nightmare. He was sleeping peacefully as Miranda continued to be trapped within her own hellish memories.
Bryce was holding Miranda down on the bed and she was screaming and kicking. The tears were streaming down her face. "Please stop!" she begged, but he didn't. He refused to stop the violence. Bryce sneered at Miranda. "You're nothing but a little whore!" he growled. "Just like your mother." He began to rip Miranda's clothing away. "Those tattoos are hot!" he said as he drooled lustfully all over her perky breasts. Miranda screamed and twisted away from him as he shoved her down onto the bed. The sound of her screams ripped through the air as he pushed himself into her unwilling body...
Miranda shot up from her sleeping position. "NO!" she yelled.
Peter awakened when Miranda cried out in her sleep. His eyes came open and he saw Miranda, her face streaked with tears. "What is it?" he asked as he sat up on the couch. "Did you remember something?"
"He...It was him! The baby...the boy. It's mine," she said.
It was all finally coming together for her now. Bryce had stolen her son right out of the hospital nursery. He was also the one who had raped her and caused her so much pain and suffering. He was the reason that she had run away and ended up in Hemlock Grove.
She had just given birth to Declan- that was the name that she had chosen for her son. After the baby went missing from the nursery, she had a meltdown. They tried to keep her at the hospital. The nurse tried to convince her that there had been no baby at all. They had tried to put her on medication to sedate her and told her she was losing her mind.
It wasn't until she had been released from the hospital that she managed to escape the house one night. She had spent weeks begging for the baby back, but they refused to tell her the truth. Now she knew! She knew what had happened that night at the hospital. She knew why she had breast milk upon arriving in Hemlock Grove. It was still fresh from having given birth to her son, and her maternal instincts had kicked in for Baby Cassandra when she first arrived due to the loss of her own son. She had instantly bonded with the baby due to the need to be a mother. There had been no explanations back then, but there were now.
A cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought of her stepfather Bryce raising her son somewhere behind closed doors; a set of doors she had never been able to find. She had torn the house upside down after returning from the hospital. He kept calling her paranoid. He told her she was worthless and that was why her baby had died.
She tried to tell herself it wasn't true. Every night she cried herself to sleep, mourning the loss of her child; the one she had been holding in her arms. He had been taken from her and she wanted him back!
Those memories had vanished from her head the night of the accident. Her car had been run off the road. She had hit her head in the accident. It had caused great memory loss. She had lost all those memories of the abuse of her stepfather. The combination of the abuse and the accident had caused her to block out those devastating memories, every single one including those of her son.
She hadn't once mentioned him since arriving in Hemlock Grove... until now.
"The baby... the little boy? He's yours?" Peter asked in disbelief. He tried to wrap his head around it. Miranda had given birth to another child. A son. But that terrible man had taken him away.
"Your stepfather took him?" Peter questioned, just to clarify.
Miranda nodded slowly. "Declan," she said quietly. It was as though the name just automatically appeared in her head. She had memories of choosing his name and holding him in her arms.
"The little boy...his name is Declan. I was pregnant and gave birth four years ago. My stepfather not only took him away but he..." She swallowed slowly. This was hard for her to explain without crying. There was so much fear and terror.
The things that Bryce had done to her were just awful and remembering them made her sick. "Peter, he's going to do something bad. Bryce is," she warned. "He always does."
Peter sat there in shock. It was as if he was unable to breathe as he imagined the pain and horror Miranda must have gone through at her stepfather's hands. The monster had hurt Miranda, and then he had taken her newborn child away. Peter wanted to crush him like a grape... and he would, if he ever got his hands on him, but for now, he had to take care of Miranda. She was trembling and afraid.
"We'll find him, Miranda. We'll find your son," Peter promised as he held her against his chest. "I think we need some help though. I'm calling Norman. Do you think you could tell him what you just told me?"
She nodded her head slowly. "I can," she said. "I can talk to him." At least she hoped that she would be able to talk to Norman. She couldn't breathe each time that she thought about what Bryce had done to her. It made her feel physically ill.
Peter got on the phone to give Norman a call. Norman said he'd be over right away. As they waited for Norman to arrive, Peter held Miranda's hand. He didn't know what to say. Nothing could make this better. She needed her little boy back and he hoped that he and Roman could find him. They needed answers, so they could find Bryce as soon as possible and rescue Miranda's son.
Miranda had no idea what to expect when she finally did find her son. She didn't know what she was going to tell Norman either except that she was suffering from terrible pain. Tears fell silently and without a word, Peter wiped them all away.
As they waited for Norman's arrival, Peter wished he knew some words to take away Miranda's sorrow. Her son had been stolen from her breast. There was nothing he could do or say to take away the horror and injustice she had gone through. He could only hope and pray he could make it better for her somehow and help heal her scars. He knew Norman could help. "We are going to make it through this, Miranda," he whispered to her quietly.
Not even ten minutes later, Norman had pulled into the drive in his black Mercedes. After Norman parked and got out of the vehicle, Peter went to answer the door. "Thank you for coming over at this late hour," Peter said to Norman as he lead him into the living room where Miranda was seated.
"What's going on?" Norman asked. "What can I do to help?"
"Miranda's been having nightmares," Peter explained. "For quite some time now... Ever since the birth of our son..."
"I am afraid it's more than just nightmares. Tonight she had some memories return. I am afraid she went through some sort of terrible experience. I was hoping you could help her through this," said Peter.
Norman sat down on the couch next to Miranda. "Tell me about your nightmares," he urged.
"I...got pregnant," Miranda explained quietly. "By... by my stepfather... I thought he'd leave me alone after that...after all the things that he said ... and did."
Norman continued to ask Miranda probing questions. It wasn't long at all before he got her to open up. He discovered that she had been raped by her stepfather and had became pregnant. "I am sorry, Miranda. I believe you are suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I'm afraid your stepfather abused you so severely that you blocked everything out for years, even the abduction of your son. The head injury you suffered when you came to Hemlock Grove also played a part in your memory loss as well."
"When Nicolai was born, that's when those memories came rushing back," said Peter as he held Miranda's hand. He stayed close to her side, trying to comfort her as she spoke to Norman. He wished he knew the words to make it better, but he didn't. Miranda just needed her little boy back, the tiny little blond child that had been taken from her arms just after his birth.
"We're going to find him," Peter promised as he kissed Miranda brow. "I promise you... Roman and I will find him."
"Do you have any idea of where to look for him?" Norman asked.
"Not yet, but I am going to talk to Roman and see if we can figure anything out," said Peter.
Miranda had just finished talking with Norman. She listened as he spoke.
"He must be so scared," she whispered to no one in particular. In her mind's eye, she could see him; the little boy with her blond hair and blue eyes...
~*~o~*~
He sat at his bedroom window, looking up at the moon. The big golden moon in the sky was his only friend. It was all he had... except his teddy bear. Teddy was old and worn. One of his eyes had fallen off. Most of his stuffing had came out over the years, but he still loved him so. Teddy kept him safe. Teddy was his best friend. Sadly, Teddy was his only friend... along with the moon.
Longingly, he stared up at the sky. Was she looking at the sky, too? Did she miss him? Did his mommy wish she had never gone away? Was she coming back for him? He hoped and prayed she would.
In the room beside his, he could hear laughter. Daddy had a new girl over. She was just like all the others. They were drinking and playing those games that only the grown-ups could play. He tried to cover his ears, but he still heard them. The girl was making funny sounds as if she was laughing and crying all at once. The bed was squeaking. Daddy was groaning. There was the distinct sound of flesh striking sharply against flesh. The little boy tried not to listen, but the noises were so loud. Their sounds were even greater than his hunger.
The little boy's tummy growled. He thought of Cyndi, his babysitter. She used to feed him macaroni and cheese. She took great of him. She was so pretty. She had blonde hair, just like his mommy who went away. He loved her... and she loved him. But Daddy had tried to make her do what the grown-ups do, so Cyndi hit him and tried to run away. Cyndi was far too young... just a teenager, but Daddy didn't care. He tried to hurt Cyndi... over and over again.
The little boy was scared. His daddy had left him all alone that night. He was cold and hungry, but Daddy didn't come. And Cyndi never came home either. Daddy returned the next day with blood on his hands, but Cyndi never came.
Just like Mommy. Daddy said Mommy didn't want him anymore, so she went away when he was just a baby, but the little boy didn't believe it. Daddy was mean. He probably hurt Mommy like he hurt Cyndi. Mommy would come back some day, and she would take the little boy away to a new home, somewhere wonderful; where he would be safe, happy, and loved. Mommy was coming!
He hid her picture in the drawer. He looked at sometimes, so he would know her when she came. She was coming! The little boy knew it... and for that, he was happy.