Roberta Taylor had always been a light sleeper. She often woke in the night to sounds of traffic, drunks stumbling home from last call, arguments wafting out of her tenants' open windows, amorous noises she could have lived without hearing, and occasionally, the cry of a small child.

Tonight, it was the latter. The families in her complex were rather attentive, so the cries typically didn't last long. Tonight, though, was different.

The cries went on, unattended, for a few minutes before Roberta pulled herself out of bed. As much as she wanted to give her tenants some privacy, things like this triggered major red flags. She had seen far too many news stories, heard too many tales from other landlords—and experienced a handful of them herself—to not investigate why the child wasn't being attended to.

After throwing on a robe, she grabbed her keys, a small flashlight, and mace from the front table then headed out. The cries were easy to follow, leading her straight to the Adlers.

Roberta had taken over the complex from her friend, who had decided to seek a less muggy climate, only two weeks ago. She'd met Frank and Mary just once and, though Frank had assured Roberta he had legal custody of Mary, Roberta was still a little wary. It wasn't often people with his looks and a girl that young ended up in this part of St. Petersburg.

She paused outside the Adler's master bedroom window, but heard no sounds from inside, amorous or otherwise. Frank either wasn't home, or wasn't paying attention to Mary. Neither option boded well for him.

Roberta knocked on the front door, and when the crying only intensified, she flipped through her key ring and let herself in.

"It's Roberta, the landlord," she called as she entered. She needn't have bothered; no one rushed out of the master bedroom.

On Roberta's left, Mary, who couldn't have been more than two, was standing in her crib and calling out for Frank between sobs. Roberta wanted nothing more than to go straight to Mary, but she needed to have a better handle on the situation first. Given how loud Roberta was intentionally being as she walked across the apartment, she was fairly certain Frank wasn't home, or wasn't conscious. She just hoped he was still breathing.

"Just a second, honey," she said as she passed Mary, while running her hand through the girl's curls. "I gotta see about your daddy."

"Frank!" Mary cried as she began to bang her hands against the slats of her crib.

Roberta froze, waiting for Frank to emerge from the master bedroom. When he didn't, she rapped on the closed door, and when no one answered, she cracked it open.

"It's Roberta, the landlord. Just checkin' up on you and Mary," she said as she poked her head into the room. There was an adult male-sized lump facedown on the bed, which was surrounded by bottles. Roberta's heart sank but just she began to fear the worst, the lump shifted and let out a thick cough.

Still breathing. That was good news.

Roberta then cracked open the door a little more, and in the light from the high inset window, Roberta was able to see the bottles were not of alcohol as she'd suspected; they were at least four different varieties of nighttime cold medicine, cough suppressants and decongestants.

It appeared Frank Adler was well and truly sick.

Since Frank obviously wasn't cognizant of Mary's cries in his cold medicine-induced haze, Roberta left the door open, then crossed the living room to where Mary's crib was set up.

"Do you remember me?" Roberta asked as she cautiously approached. "I'm your dad's friend, Roberta."

Mary shook her head, sending tears flying. "Frank," she pleaded.

"Frank is sick, honey. But I'm a friend of his. Maybe you'll let me help?"

"Frank," Mary insisted.

"Are you sick too, sweetie?" Roberta asked, as she squinted at Mary in the dim moonlight.

Mary stopped sobbing for exactly the time it took her to shake her head.

"Are you hungry?"

Mary shook her head again.

"Thirsty?"

Same response.

"Scared?"

This time, Mary nodded. "Want Frank."

"He's sick, honey, and needs his sleep. But if you let me help you, I know of a great monster-banishing recipe. Guaranteed to protect you from any and all kinds of bad dreams."

Mary's head perked up at the sound of that.

"Do you want to help me make it?"

Mary nodded, then held up her arms. Roberta swooped in and easily lifted Mary out of her crib.

Then, she realized what she was doing. She couldn't just take Mary out of the Adler house, nor could she stay here and wait for Frank to wake up. Her only option was to send Mary in to wake Frank up, then ask if he in fact wanted her help.

"Go tell your dad, okay?"

Mary looked up at Roberta, eyes wide and unblinking, which was when Roberta realized Mary didn't understand familial relationships yet. Remembering that Mary had called Frank by his first name, Roberta tried again. "Go tell Frank, okay?"

This time, Mary nodded and squirmed out of Roberta's hold. Roberta then retreated to the doorway, where she positioned herself clearly under the light.

From this vantage point, she could see Mary jump into Frank's bed, and onto Frank, judging by the pained whoosh she heard.

"'ary?" Frank slurred. "Whaz wrong?"

Mary began chattering about a thousand miles an hour, but her words were incomprehensible to Roberta on the other side of the house.

"R'berta?" Frank repeated and the landlord steeled herself for the impending confrontation.

Two seconds later, Frank was standing in the doorway, baseball bat raised high in the air. In the direct moonlight, Roberta realized Frank was sicker than she thought. His eyes were wide and glassy, and his face ashen. The only spots of color were in his cheeks, which were red with fever. It was a wonder he was even upright.

"Wha' the hell're you doi're?" he slurred as he leaned slightly against the door frame.

"I'm Roberta, the landlord," she said calmly. "I heard Mary crying and had to check it out. It's in my rules and regulations."

Frank squinted at her, pulled back slightly, then very slowly put the bat down inside his room. He opened his mouth to speak but a cough ripped itself loose instead. He braced himself against the doorway with his forearm while his body shook with the force of his paroxysm.

When he looked up again, his expression was so miserable that Roberta knew coming over here had been the right choice.

"Sick," Mary said, wrapping herself around Frank's leg.

"Yeah, kid. Sick," Frank replied after a long snuffle.

"You know I don't normally do this," Roberta said slowly, "but I can take Mary for the night, if you want to get some rest."

The expression on Frank's face shifted in a second; his eyes grew wide and his expression fearful. Obviously, 'taking Mary' had been the wrong thing for Roberta to say.

"Or I can stay here with her until you're better," Roberta amended quickly.

Frank shook his head. "Can't."

"You can, and you should. The longer you're sick, the more likely it is she's going to catch it from you. If she hasn't already."

"Caught it from 'er," Frank wheezed.

If Frank thought Roberta was going to give up that easily, he had another thing coming. Stubbornness ran strong in her family, on both sides. "Everyone needs a little help sometimes," she then said. "Let me help you tonight. If you don't want me to take Mary, I can stay here with her. If that's okay with you, of course."

Frank looked up uncertainly, though he seemed to be considering the idea.

"Everyone needs a little help sometimes," Roberta repeated.

This time, Frank nodded slowly. "Thank you." Using the door frame as leverage, he bent down to Mary. "Roberta's mah friend," he said thickly. "She's gonna hang out with you for a little while. Would you like that?"

"Juice," Mary said, which made Frank snort, which then set off another coughing fit. He pushed Mary away while he coughed into the opposite door frame.

"That means yes," he wheezed once he could breathe again.

"Well come on, then," Roberta said, holding out her arms to Mary, who launched herself into them. "And you, Frank, go take a hot shower, loosen up some of that gunk."

Frank looked over his shoulder, expression blank. Roberta feared she had overstepped but he just smiled. "Yes, mom."

Mary watched Frank leave semi-warily, but then turned to Roberta and repeated, "Juice."

"Yes, honey, I heard you the first time. Whaddya say we also make Frank some soup?"

Mary just nodded and held up her hands to be carried. Roberta easily picked her up and was surprised by how light she was.

They made their way into the small kitchen where Roberta began rifling through the cabinets. There was a lot of dried staples like pasta, rice, chips, and pretzels. Roberta sifted through trail mix, cereal, peanut butter, and different cans of baby food until she found a few cups of noodles in the back corner. Roberta pulled one out, then winced as Mary tugged on her hair and repeated, "Juice."

Roberta put the soup on the counter then reached up and very gently disentangled Mary's hand from her hair. "Not when you act like that, little miss."

Mary looked instantly apologetic and fixed Roberta with wide blue eyes. "Please?"

If he didn't already, Frank was going to have his hands full once Mary realized the power of that expression. Roberta was no less immune. "Since you asked so nicely, yes." Roberta deposited Mary in her booster seat, then opened the fridge. She was less than impressed with what she found. There was milk, a small pack of Kraft slices, a baggie of leftover mac 'n' cheese, and some fruit. On first glance, she didn't even notice the juice, which was sitting in the door next to some condiments.

She poured Mary a sippy cup of juice, watering it down a little with the tap water—it was almost two AM after all—and handed it to her. Mary waved it excitedly in the air then set about drinking it.

While she was distracted, Roberta unwrapped the cup of noodles, filled it in the sink and popped it in the microwave. By the time it was done, Frank was wandering back into the kitchen, having taken what must have been the record for the world's shortest shower. He did look a little better though, if only for the pink flush to his skin.

"Sit," Roberta said, when he just stood uncomfortably in the doorway. "I made you some soup."

"You didn't hafta do that," he said, though he did sit next to Mary, steal her sippy cup, and pretend to drain it. She wailed and climbed onto his lap in an attempt to steal it back.

"I wanted to." The microwave beeped and Roberta retrieved the steaming cup then rifled through a few drawers until she found a spoon. There were only a few pieces of silverware in the drawer, lost beneath a pile of plastic children's utensils.

"Thanks," Frank said as Roberta placed both in front of him. He stared at it for a moment, then handed Mary back her sippy cup before one of her flailing arms could knock over the cup of noodles and settled her back in her seat.

"How long have you been sick?" Roberta asked, taking the seat next to Frank.

He snuffled loudly, which caused Roberta to grimace. "Four days."

"I'd ask if you were taking care of yourself, but with this little one, I suspect I know the answer."

"We'll get through it," Frank said, suddenly defensive. He was sitting up straighter now, the soup clearly forgotten. "Always do."

"I'm not trying to say otherwise," Roberta was quick to say. "I just wanna help… if you'll let me."

"Oh." As Frank's posture slackened again, he picked up the fork and began twirling around some noodles. "Thanks."

Roberta had so many questions about the whole situation: how Frank ended up with Mary, if he had family around, but she knew she was pressing her luck as is.

Thankfully, she was saved from having to make conversation by Mary, who began fussing in her booster seat until Frank grabbed some duplos from the counter and handed them over. Mary stuck one in her mouth then began trying to click the the remaining two together.

This distraction allowed Roberta to finally settle on a far less probing question for Frank. "Where are the vegetables?"

He looked up from his soup, spoon halfway to his mouth, and blinked owlishly at her.

"Green leafy things?" Roberta continued. "Grow in the ground? Good for growing girls?"

Frank finally shook his head. "Mary only eats peas and carrots."

"You don't have any of those either."

"In the freezer," Frank said before dissolving into another coughing fit.

While he was otherwise occupied, Roberta stood, filled him a glass of water from the tap and slid it slowly across the table toward him. "What about for you?"

Frank ducked his head into his elbow as he coughed. "Can't afford it."

Oh honey, Roberta thought, but she didn't vocalize it, suspecting Frank wasn't the kind to take it well. From what she'd seen of the apartment, it was scarce, but Mary seemed to have everything she needed; now that Roberta was paying attention, there wasn't a lot of Frank, or really any adult items, in the house at all. She couldn't help with all that, but she could bring a few foods over tomorrow to get Frank back on his feet.

"I can sense you're not the type to take charity," she said, tossing him the roll of paper towels as his sniffling intensified. "So I'm going to make you a deal. I have a bunch of fresh food at my apartment—"

"We can't take it," Frank interrupted, and was subsequently fixed with one of Roberta's patented unamused expressions.

"You didn't let me finish. I'll trade you to them for some labor. You seem handy," she remembered him saying something about repairing boats, "and as you can see, the apartments need some work done. When you're better, of course."

Frank's face fractured as he put down his fork. "That's very kind, but I can't accept."

By this point, he really should have realized that refusing was fruitless, but given that he was sick, Roberta was willing to let it slide. This time.

"Well the complex needs work done, and I'm a little cash poor, so all I have in trade is food," Roberta said. "I'm sure you'll find a way to make it work."

He looked at her and for a moment, his expression was surprisingly clear. "I'm not being given a choice, am I?"

"No, you are not."

Frank actually smiled as he returned to his soup. "So what sort of things need repairing?"

Any progress Roberta thought they'd made that night evaporated the next morning when he refused to let her drop off a bag of fruits and vegetables. She was far too resourceful for that to be the end of it, and just waited until the Adlers had gone on a walk to used her key to let herself in and leave the produce on their table. She'd also left a bottle of OJ, some Emergen-C, and a small jar of applesauce for Mary.

They must have been eaten since, three days later, Frank Adler, with much more color in his face and a nose that no longer resembled Rudolph's, showed up at her door. He was dressed in a somewhat ratty set of clothes that would be perfectly suited for the jobs she needed him to do.

"It's good to see you on your feet," she said as she opened the door. "It was those veggies, wasn't it?"

He looked at her for a moment, clearly struggling to decide whether to refute the statement or just be thankful. The latter must have won out, since he nodded. "Definitely the vegetables." Then he looked up at her and grinned lopsidedly. "Thanks."

She waved off his words. "That's what good neighbors are for. Now, can I interest you in a cup of coffee or do you want to get to work?"

"Work, if that's alright."

Roberta nodded as she grabbed her keys from their hook by the door. "Then let's get started."

And that's how their unlikely friendship began. The more time Roberta spent with Frank and Mary, the more comfortable around her Frank seemed. Though he was healthy, he still looked a little ragged around the edges, no doubt from being fully responsible for a toddler. To make matters worse, Roberta hadn't seen a single adult other than herself enter or exit the Adler's apartment.

He'd scoffed that he didn't have time when Roberta had brought it up while making s'mores with them over the communal grill, but then sobered when he saw her expression.

"You need time to yourself," Roberta said, licking marshmallow off her fingers. "Let me watch Mary for a couple hours. Go drive into town and see a movie. Get some food! Hit up a bar! Or whatever kids your age do these days."

Frank just shook his head. "I can't leave her."

"You're not leaving her. You're just taking some time for yourself."

Frank looked over at Roberta and she instantly knew he was about to tell her something serious. Despite their growing friendship, her mind immediately assumed the worst: that Frank had either kidnapped Mary or was on the run. Those scenarios ended up being almost preferable to the story Frank shared.

"Let's start smaller then," Roberta said, while struggling to understand how someone like Evelyn wouldn't want to be around Mary, who had to be one of the cutest children Roberta had ever seen. "I'll take her for an hour. You take a nap or something. You can come get her any time."

"Half hour," Frank said, before handing Roberta another s'more.

"Deal."

And so began Roberta's babysitting duties. She loved spending time with Mary, and Frank seemed to enjoy some time to himself. Like they'd agreed on, Mary's trips had started small—only half an hour—but as time passed and Mary returned happy, somewhat hyped up on sugar, but otherwise unharmed, Frank had relented and Mary's stays increased in length.

Then, finally around Halloween, Roberta convinced Frank to let her keep Mary for the night so he could go out. He dropped Mary off at five sharp. She was wearing an Elsa costume, while he was dressed in a clean button up shirt and khakis.

"I don't even know what people wear out these days," he muttered as he kissed Mary then straightened up to hand Roberta Mary's go-bag.

It took everything Roberta had to comment that no one at wherever he was going would spend one second looking at his clothes when his face was right there.

"You have fun, Frank," she said, dropping the bag to swoop Mary in her arms. "We'll be fine."

"I'll be back around eleven," he said, nervously checking his watch.

"It's fine if you're not."

Frank looked ready to protest when Roberta pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips in an exaggerated fashion, which Mary immediately mimicked. "Go have fun, Frank," she said, to which Mary nodded firmly.

Frank took a deep breath then nodded.

When he'd climbed back into his truck, Roberta turned to Mary. "Whaddya think, Mary? Should we make some slime?"

A thousand-watt grin that lit up Mary's face gave Roberta all the answer she needed.

From then on, Roberta became an integral part of the Adlers' life. She helped teach Mary how to read. She was who Frank confided in when he realized Mary was gifted. She was there when Frank sent her off to school for the first time, and while she didn't smother him in his sleep during the whole Evelyn incident, it was a close thing.

It took a long while for things to return to normal after that. One might say they never really did. But, the things that changed were definitely for the better.

Mary started spending the mornings at the local college taking advanced math classes, before returning to Howard Elementary for the afternoon and her extracurriculars. Frank quit his job repairing boats and started teaching introductory level philosophy classes at the same college, which ended up serving many purposes: it got Mary into her classes at discount, and afforded them a more regular paycheck and insurance.

The outside of the apartment didn't change any, but as the semester wore on, signs of what the larger paycheck afforded the Adlers were scattered throughout the apartment. Frank had bought himself a secondhand bookshelf and set up a real office in the corner of the living room for grading and lesson planning. During the same trip, he'd found an electronic keyboard for Mary; Roberta could still hear Mary's squeal all the way across the compound when she'd first seen it. Frank had even invested in a scratching post for their two new cats, but had caved and covered the couch in a sheet when all three preferred it over their designated toy.

The Adlers were still living frugally, but both their clothes were in better condition, and when Roberta walked into the house and opened the fridge, she saw more than just the dollar store essentials. Frank had even hung a sheet separating Mary's bed from the rest of the house for a little bit of extra privacy, and was talking about closing off that bonus door to the master that summer (with their landlord's permission) for the same reason.

Other than that, their lives went on as normal. Frank helped Roberta out with the apartments whenever she needed, and she was always sure to repay the favor by watching Mary during the week when he had study sessions or wanted to get drinks with his coworkers. It was hardly the imposition he kept making it seem, mostly because Mary was good about getting her homework done early on those days so she and Roberta could have a little bit of fun too.

And then there was Miss Stevenson—or Bonnie, as she insisted she be called. Roberta wouldn't be the good neighbor she was if she wasn't a little suspicious of Bonnie's intentions, but when she continued to stick around even as Mary graduated into second grade, Roberta chose not to rent out the two-bedroom apartment on the other end of the complex, so it'd be ready when the Adlers and Bonnie were to move onto the next chapter of their lives.

It had taken the four of them a long path to get here, but with every step, every obstacle, Roberta was glad she'd gotten out of bed that night six years ago and investigated the baby's cry.

She couldn't imagine what her life would have looked like if she hadn't.

I know I'm three years late to this fandom, but I hope you enjoy this fic all the same!

Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you thought!