A/N: Hi everyone! Thanks again for reading and reviewing! We appreciate it and hope you are enjoying Libby's adventures. We plan for her to have many more. This chapter is brought to you by HailstormJen. I hope you enjoy!
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I woke up covered in sweat and my bed was soaked beneath me. (Oh no, not an accident! Not again!) I pulled up on my comforter so that I could see beneath it and sure enough the evidence was there. My first reaction was to cry and that's exactly what I did. Tears fell from my eyes as I climbed out of bed and pulled the wet sheets off. (I deserved this. This was part of my punishment.) It was a good thing they hadn't taken the plastic cover off of my mattress yet. I wanted to run to Dad and Uncle Sam and tell them what had happened, but I couldn't, I was twelve years old...too big to act like a needy little girl. I needed to show them that I was mature and responsible. I fumbled into the hallway with the pile and made my way to the laundry room. I tossed them into the washer and then turned to head for the bathroom. I instinctively screamed as I walked directly into Uncle Sam. We both jumped with surprise...and then within moments, Dad came running toward us clutching a baseball bat in his hands. I couldn't help but smile at the image.
"What's going on?...You two ok?" he gasped as he stopped next to Uncle Sam.
"Yeah, I heard a noise in the hallway and I found Libby doing laundry," Uncle Sam replied. They both looked at me with surprise.
"Laundry at 3am Libs?" Dad questioned as he raised his eyebrows. Before I could respond, his eyes rested on my wet pajama bottoms. "Ohhh, I see...it's ok...no big deal." He placed his hand on top of my head and ruffled my hair. I was so embarrassed.
"Easy for you to say," I mumbled. (I thought I was over this.)
"Put your wet clothes outside the bathroom door and I'll throw them in the washer," Uncle Sam offered.
"Ok," I replied as I hurried for the bathroom. After I showered, I found that someone had put my clean puppy pajamas on the counter. They weren't my emoji ones, but they would do. After I got dressed, I headed back to my bedroom to find clean sheets and a blanket on my bed. (Why did they insist on being so nice to me? I was so undeserving.)
"Back to bed kiddo," Dad's voice commented from behind me. I turned to face him. The thought of being alone overwhelmed me and I really wanted to be able to keep an eye on my Dad.
"Ummm...Dad? Do you think I could sleep in your room?" I asked worriedly. "I'll sleep on the floor...I just don't wanna be alone. I keep dreaming about the wendigo." I felt my eyes well up with tears.
"Yeah kiddo, if it will help you sleep better," Dad replied as he stepped past me and lifted my mattress from the frame. He set it on its side and slid it past me and through the doorway. I grabbed my pillows and followed after him, relieved that he understood and that I wouldn't have to sleep alone.
"Thanks Dad, goodnight," I said as I snuggled safely underneath my covers.
"Goodnight Libs," he replied as he climbed into his own bed. I closed my eyes and drifted off almost immediately.
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A few weeks passed and I continued to sleep on my Dad's floor. As long as I slept in the same room, the nightmares stopped and so did the bedwetting. Both Dad and Uncle Sam insisted that I try to go back to my bed for one night and that's when I had another nightmare and an accident. The nightmares were always the same. The wendigo would come charging out of the woods and take my Dad right before my very eyes. I was helpless. Dad or Uncle Sam always stayed close by. They put a temporary halt on hunting and if there were errands that needed to be done, usually Uncle Sam went or we all went. Dad never left me. I was fine with that.
Uncle Sam put me on a structured scheduled during the day. It went pretty much like this - breakfast, exercise, schoolwork, lunch, schoolwork, 2 hours of my own, dinner, reading, and then bed at 8pm. Sometimes they would allow me to stay up a little later to watch television with them. On the weekends I would have chores and also, as part of my punishment, I would have to clean every car in the garage, inside and out. The cars were already spotless and I knew it was just busy work.
"Hey Libs! Come in here!" Uncle Sam called from the TV room one night before I was headed to bed. I finished putting on my emoji pajamas and hurried to find them sitting on the couch. Dad had a beer in his hand and Uncle Sam was holding a piece of paper. Uncle Sam patted the an empty spot between them. (Oh no...what was this?)
"Ummmm...am I in trouble?" I asked as I pulled my hair back into a messy ponytail.
"No honey, just wanted to talk to you about something," Uncle Sam replied with a slight smile. I nodded and made my way around the coffee table and plopped myself between them. I watched as my Dad set his beer down on the table. "So...I've been doing some research on separation anxiety," Uncle Sam commented.
"Ummm...ok?" I questioned.
"Libs, I know you realize that you don't want to let your Dad out of your sight," Uncle Sam replied. (I didn't like where this was going.) I nodded my head in response. "Well...we want to help you with that."
"No...I don't need help with that," I replied firmly. "I'm fine."
"Come on kiddo, I can't leave your sight without you freaking out," Dad mentioned. "We're not angry...we just want to help you."
"I don't see why it's an issue," I snapped.
"Well, it's a problem Libby," Dad replied firmly. I felt tears burn my eyes.
"No! No! It's not!" I snapped as I slammed my fists on my thighs. I eyed his beer on the table and then purposely shoved the table with my foot. I figured it would be a good distraction. Dad jumped quickly and caught the beer before it tumbled over onto the floor. (That didn't go as planned.)
"Strike 1," Uncle Sam declared. I turned and glared at him.
"It was an accident," I protested.
"Strike 2 for lying," my Dad announced firmly. (Ugh! They noticed everything! Even when I tried to make it look like a mistake.) I turned and glared at him. "If we get to three, you're going to go to bed with a sore behind," he warned. I huffed and angrily crossed my arms across my chest. "Now, are you ready to listen?"
"Yes sirreee, Mr. Drill Sergeant, " I huffed with an impulsive eye roll. (Oh crap! my Dad hated the eye rolls!)
"Strike 3," Dad stated firmly. (Shoot! I hated the 3 strikes and you're out!) He scooted closer to me and the next thing I knew I was being pulled across his lap.
"Dad stop!" I cried out, but it was too late. He quickly landed several hard smacks to my bottom. He stopped spanking but continued to hold me in position with his hand on my back. "The attitude stops. Do you understand?"
"Yes," I sobbed. "I'm sorry." He released the hold that he had on me and helped me into a sitting position on his lap. "I'm sorry Dad," I reaffirmed as I gave him a quick hug.
"I know it's not an easy thing to talk about Libby, but we have to, and we need you to take this seriously," he replied as he hugged me back. "Uncle Sam has some ideas to help us." I released the hug I had on my Dad and turned toward Uncle Sam. I had completely forgotten that he was sitting there.
"I'm sorry Uncle Sam," I said regretfully as I wiped the tears from my eyes and slid off of my Dad's lap and onto the couch between them.
"Apology accepted," he replied with a slight smile. He placed a piece of paper down in front of me. It looked like another schedule with dates and times. (Sheesh...this man was so OCD. He had a schedule for everything.) "We're going to have your Dad leave the bunker for a little while everyday," Uncle Sam explained. "We'll start with 15 minutes tomorrow and increase the time everyday." He patted the paper in front of me. "This is the schedule so that you can be prepared ahead of time." I looked down at the paper and then up at Uncle Sam. "What do you think Libs?" he asked. (I thought it was stupid but wasn't about to say that out loud.)
"It's fine, I can let Dad out of my sight for 15 minutes, I don't see what the big deal is," I replied confidently. "You'll see." My stomach hurt just thinking about it, but I was bound and determined to show them that I could do it.
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The next day I followed my daily schedule until Dad was scheduled to leave. I had just started my two hour break when Dad announced that he was taking off to run an errand. "I'll be right back kiddo," he said as kissed me gently on the forehead.
"Ok," I replied. Uncle Sam came and stepped behind me. He gently placed his hands on my shoulders. I watched as Dad started down the hallway toward the garage and my stomach started to ache. I clenched my fists closed tightly and held my breath. (I could do this. I had to do this. I was a big girl. NOT a baby.) When my Dad was out of my sight, I lost it. I shoved Uncle Sam's hands from my shoulders and took off running. "Dad stop!" I called after him. I made it to the garage just as he was about to climb into the Impala. "No! Don't go!" I cried as I wrapped my arms around his waist. Tears were falling from my eyes. "I can't let you go! Please! I need you to stay!"
"Libby stop," he stated firmly. "It's only 15 minutes." I felt my hands being pried from my Dad and glanced over my shoulder to find Uncle Sam. I tried to fight Uncle Sam's strength but he was so strong. Once he pried me off, he wrapped his arms around me tightly from behind.
"Dean, I got her, just go," Sam ordered. I felt like a little kid being left at preschool for the first time. I hated that I was reacting this way.
"Let me go!" I demanded. Dad looked back at me, frowned, and then disappeared into his car. Sam pulled me away, kicking and screaming. "Uncle Sam no! I can't do this!" He picked me up from behind and carried me to the TV room. He sat down and placed me on his lap, still holding onto me tightly. "What if he gets hurt Uncle Sam?" I pleaded as tears streamed down my cheeks. "What if I never see him again?"
"Libby, he'll be ok," he replied reassuringly. "Come on honey...take a deep breath. You can do this and I'm here to help you."
"Everyone I love dies," I sobbed. Uncle Sam turned me sideways so that I could see him. He continued to hold me tightly and pulled me gently against him as he rocked me back and forth. I relaxed slightly, but I still couldn't shake the feeling that something bad could happen to my Dad. "How much longer Uncle Sam?" I asked after a little while. I still couldn't stop the tears from falling from my eyes and I felt like I was going to throw up. Uncle Sam glanced down at his watch.
"About 5 more minutes," he replied. "You did good Libby...it will get easier everyday...I promise."
"I don't understand...why can't he just stay with me all the time?" I questioned. Uncle Sam smiled slightly.
"Come on Libs, we both know that's not realistic," he replied gently as he rubbed my back.
"I know," I pouted. "I just...I hate this." Just then my Dad appeared in the doorway. "You're back!" I cried excitedly as I jumped up from the couch and ran to him. He extended his arms and then wrapped them around me.
"She did good," Uncle Sam commented. "Tomorrow we move it up to 30 minutes." (Ugh! This was going to be exhausting!)
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Later that evening I was sitting at the table in the main room reading while Uncle Sam and Dad scrolled through their laptops searching for cases. The buzzer to the door echoed through the room, startling me. Both Uncle Sam and Dad looked up from their computers and looked over at me. "I think that may be for you," Uncle Sam stated. I looked at him with surprise. I had no idea who would come and visit me. I didn't know anyone in Kansas. The bell rang again. "Well...go open the door," Uncle Sam urged.
"What's going on?" I asked curiously. They both smiled and then refocused their attention back on their laptops. I hesitantly walked up the stairs to the door and pulled it open. I saw Jody standing in front of me with a big smile on her face. "Jody!" I exclaimed. It had been a while since I had seen her and I missed her.
"Hi Libby," she greeted. I smiled and gave her a hug. As I hugged her, I peered around her to see if Claire was there too. But to my surprise, it wasn't Claire, it was Curtis! I screeched with excitement. I released my hold on Jody and quickly stepped around her. Curtis was standing there with a big smile on his face. His left arm was still in a sling and his right foot was in a boot, but other than that, he looked fantastic. "I brought you some visitors," I heard Jody mention.
"O.M.G.!" I declared excitedly. "Curtis!" I threw my arms around him excitedly. "I'm so happy to see you!"
"Hey Kansas," he replied. "I missed you."
"Ok, ok, enough of that," my Dad's voice interrupted. "You can let each other go now." I felt my Dad's hand on my shoulder and he gently pulled me away. I stepped back and noticed a little face peering around Curtis. Blonde curls hung in her face and her blue eyes watched worriedly.
"Is this your sister?" I asked curiously.
"Yes, this is Quinn," Curtis replied as he took her hand and gently guided her so that she was standing next to him. She was cute with long, blonde ringlets and a splattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She looked to be about 5 or 6 years old. I watched as she looked up at Dean worriedly as if she was frightened by him. "She's really shy. She doesn't talk much," Curtis mentioned.
"Hi Quinn," I said as I smiled down at her. "I'm Libby." She quickly looked away from me and wrapped her little arms around Curtis. I felt bad for her.
"Come on in everyone, you must be hungry," Dean commented as he tried to shuffle us down the stairs into the main room. I looked over at Curtis and smiled as we headed downstairs. I was so happy to see him and I couldn't wait to spend some time with him.
"How long are you here for?" I questioned to Jody who was walking in front of me.
"Just the weekend," Jody replied. "I have to get back to work. I just wanted you to see for yourself that Curtis was almost all healed."
"Thank you, it's the best surprise ever!" I replied excitedly as I glanced over at Curtis and smiled again.
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A/N: This concludes part 4! I hope you enjoyed it! Please stayed tuned for part 5!