AUTHOR'S NOTE: I edited out a couple of mistakes, and added a couple of small changes.

My stomach woke me up- it was rumbling so much it was hurting me. I opened my eyes and sat up- I was in my bed. I swung my feet over and got up, walking around the divider to the main part of the room. Dean- my Daddy- was sitting at the table, reading a newspaper.

He put it down and looked at me. "Good morning, sleeping beauty," he said, smiling at me.

"I'm starving!" I grumped.

"Yeah, we tried to wake you up last night, but you were out. I figured you needed it. Sam just left to get breakfast, but there's some leftover pizza if you want."

"Yes please." I said. I got out of bed and went over to the table and sat down in the chair next to Daddy. He got up and walked over to the mini fridge and pulled out a pizza box.

"It's cold, but it's still edible," he said as he brought it over. He took a slice of pizza out and put in on a napkin in front of me.

"Thank you," I said to him. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as he sat down in his chair again.

"Okay, I guess," I said. I looked down and noticed I was in my pajamas. "Did you change me?"

"Yeah, I did," he admitted. "Like I said, you were really out of it and only woke up a little bit. Sam helped me."

I ate the slice of pizza quickly, because I was so hungry. I put the crust on the table and said, "Can I have another piece?"

"Sure," Daddy got up and brought me another slice. He went into the bathroom for a couple of minutes. I was halfway through the second slice when the hotel door started to open.

At the same time, the bathroom door opened and Daddy stepping into the room.

As the hotel door opened, I remembered yesterday, when I had opened the door and Aunt Michelle had been standing there. I remembered her grabbing me and pulling me out of the room, and I remembered the fear I had felt as we drove away from the hotel.

Uncle Sam was standing in the doorway, holding a drink carrier and a paper bag in one hand, and trying to get the key out of the doorknob with the other.

"Hey, you're up," he said, glancing over at me and then focusing on his keys.

Outside the room, a woman in a business suit walked by behind him. Aunt Michelle! I screamed and scrambled off the chair and ran over to my bed, grabbing the covers and wrapping them around me.

"NOOO!" I screamed. "You're not taking me again!"

Daddy came walking over to me quickly, concern on his face. "Sweetheart, it's okay," he said.

Uncle Sam had closed the door and locked it, and he walked over to the table to put his things down. He started to walk over to me, and said, "What did you think you saw, Charlie?"

"That lady that walked by-" I said. "I thought it was- was-" I couldn't say her name. I opened my mouth, and then I threw up all over the bed.

I burst into tears, and threw up some more.

"Oh, geez!" Daddy said, coming over to stand by the side of the bed. He put his hand on my back.

I looked up at him. "Daddy I'm sorry!" I wailed.

"It's okay, Charlie," he said. "I think you're going to need a bath."

I had throw up all down my front, and in my hair too. There was little black olive bits and chewed crust all over the blankets on the bed.

"You give her a bath, I'll take care of this," Uncle Sam said.

"Come on," Daddy took my arm and helped me off of the bed. I followed him to the bathroom, still crying, and he started the water in the tub. Then he pulled my shirt over my head.

"You know, I guess we should clean this stuff out of your hair first," he said. "Lean over the sink." I stood in front of the sink, and he turned the tap on and wet my hair, gently working the bits of food out of my hair.

"Let's take your pants off now," he bent down and helped me off with my pajama bottoms and underpants, and then said," Get in the tub."

The tub had a couple of inches of water in it by then, and he turned the tap off and knelt down next to the tub. I stepped in and sat down and put my arms around myself.

"I'm cold," I whined.

"We'll be done in a minute," he said soothingly. He wet and soaped a washcloth, then he washed my neck and torso off. Some of it had gone on my legs too, and he washed them as well. I hadn't had anyone wash me since forever, and it made me feel like I was little again, but I found that I didn't mind it. It felt nice to have someone else take care of me like that. I still felt shaky and scared.

"Lean your head back and I'll wash your hair," he said. He got a glass, and used it to wet my hair.

"Um, I'm not sure how to do this." he said.

"Put your hand on her forehead," Uncle Sam said from the doorway.

Daddy turned around to look at him. "What do you mean?"

Uncle Sam came into the bathroom and then sat on the edge of the tub. He held his hand upright and put it on my forehead, making a barrier for the water so that it didn't drip into my face as he shampooed and rinsed my hair.

"Wow," Daddy said. "Where'd you learn that?"

"I was with Jess when she was babysitting her niece and nephew one weekend, that's how she washed their hair." Uncle Sam said.

"That's great," Daddy said. "Thanks, Sammy. "

"We done?" Uncle Sam leaned down and pulled the plug.

Daddy helped me stand up and then wrapped a towel around me. He picked me up and carried me out to the room. Uncle Sam brought over some clothes, and Daddy dried me off and helped me get dressed. Then he sat down at the table with me in his lap.

"How's your stomach? Do you want to eat something?"

"Uh-uh." I said.

"You want to lay down?"

"Stay here with you," I said, and I leaned against him, listening to his voice in his chest as he talked with Uncle Sam. I still felt shaky and hollow inside. I dozed as they ate breakfast and talked.

A knock on the door startled me awake, and I tensed up as Uncle Sam walked over to the door.

Daddy looked down at me and rubbed my back, saying, "It's all right," to me.

Uncle Sam let Grandpa John and Uncle Bobby in. Grandpa John had a bag in his hands.

"I got something for you, Charlie," he said.

I slid off of Daddy's lap and walked over to him. He gave me the bag and I opened it. Inside was a pink baseball cap with a Hello Kitty embroidered patch on the front. She was wearing a baseball hat and holding a baseball and a bat in her hands.

"This ought to keep the sun off your face," he said with a smile. "That's that cat you like, right?"

"Yeah!" I said happily. "Thank you!" I stepped forward to hug him, and after he put his arms around me, I got a cascade of images in my head: lots of tall trees and vines and leaves, and I knew that it was a jungle somewhere, then a man dressed in a green uniform holding a gun and falling down, and then fire rolling across the ceiling in a house. The images were in and out of my mind in a split second, and as I let go and stepped back, I blurted, "The fire on the ceiling had nothing to do with you."

The words just spilled out of my mouth, like they used to when I was younger.

I stepped back again, and looked up at him. He had a shocked look on his face, and his face was pale.

I ran over to Daddy and climbed into his lap, bursting into tears and burying my face in his flannel.

"I'm sorry!" I sobbed. "I didn't mean to say anything, I can't help it, it just- it just happens!"

Daddy pulled me away from his shirt and looked down at me. "It's all right, you're not in trouble. Why do you think you'd be in trouble?"

"Be-because Mommy got upset with me when I would say things, 'cause people would get mad at her! I can't help it, honest! It—it's hard to make it stop!"

Then I remembered, I had been very small, and we had been with some older relatives, and I had blurted out something about how Great-Uncle Max took secret drinks from a little silver bottle that he kept in his pocket. And he had gotten angry, and leaned down and smacked my mouth, and then started swatting my bottom. Mom had pulled me away from him and yelled at him, but then later she had been angry with me too, and scolded me.

I had been able to make it stop when I was little, but it took a lot of concentration on my part. And I was worried and stressed the whole time that I would slip up and blurt something out, so I was very quiet for a long time.

"What is she talking about?" Grandpa John asked in a quiet voice. His face was upset.

"She used to- 'know things' when she was younger, things about people, and would blurt them out, and people would get angry about it." Daddy explained.

"I'll be damned," Uncle Bobby murmured.

"Dean, you should investigate this more," Grandpa John said. "Make sure it isn't part of any...deal, if you know what I mean. And if not, find out where it comes from, because it didn't come from our side of the family."

"Missouri could help," Uncle Bobby said.

"That's true," Grandpa John agreed.

"What's a Missouri?" I asked, sitting up and sniffling.

"Missouri is a woman we know who is a psychic, she knows things like you." Grandpa John said. "She'd be able to talk to you and help you figure out what's going on, and how to control it."

"I don't want to be like this!" I exclaimed. "It- it just make people mad!"

I looked at Daddy and told him what I had just remembered about my Great Uncle, and when I had finished talking, they all looked angry.

"He shouldn't have hit you," Daddy said, stroking my hair. "I'm glad your mom pulled you away and yelled at him, but I don't know that she should have gotten angry at you also."

"But people kept getting mad at her. It was my fault." I said.

"It wasn't something you could control, Charlie." Uncle Sam said. "We won't ever get mad at you for something like that, all right? You won't get in trouble with any of us."

"Okay, Uncle Sam." I said. He smiled at me and I smiled back.

Daddy's phone rang, and he looked at the display.

"Police are calling again," he said. "Winchester. Yes...WHAT?" He sat up, and patted my back.

"Get up," he said to me, and I got off of his lap. "I'll be right back," he murmured, and went outside.

I went over to Uncle Sam and got on his lap, feeling scared.

We all looked at each other, wondering what was going on. In a few minutes, Daddy came back into the room. He came over and sat back down in the chair.

"Charlie, I have something to tell you," he said seriously. "Your Aunt Michelle was put in jail for fraud and attempted kidnapping."

"What's fraud?" I asked him.

"She was charging people more money than she should have been, at her job, and keeping the money." Daddy explained. "But...the thing is, she's escaped from jail. The police are searching for her, but they suggested that we go to a different hotel, one with better security for now. Until she's found."

"Why?" I looked at him and then up at Uncle Sam. "What's security mean?"

"Well, there's a chance that she could try and come after you again." Daddy said. "Better security means better locks on the doors and stuff. They want us to be extra safe right now, all right?"

I started to cry. Uncle Sam hugged me to him.

"What if she comes to get me?" I wailed. "What if she- she-"

"No, Charlie," Uncle Sam said firmly. "Don't start thinking like that. You hear me?"

"Yes, Uncle Sam," I said.

"Let's get everything packed up, and I'll call around and see what I can find." Daddy looked down at his phone.

"I'll look online and see which hotels have the best security features." Uncle Sam said. "Charlie, go ahead and start getting your stuff together. Check under the bed to make sure all your toys are out of there."

"I don't want to, I want to sit with you or Daddy," I whined.

"Charlie, both of us have to do some work right now," Uncle Sam said.

"But-"

"Why don't I come over and sit with you while you get packed?" Grandpa John said. "And you can show me some of your toys," he smiled at me.

"O-okay," I said uncertainly.

I got off of Uncle Sam's lap, and went over to my bed, and he followed me. I felt shy suddenly. I laid down on the floor and scooted under the bed to get the toys that were under there. When I stood up, he was sitting on the side of the bed. He picked up one of the tiny dolls and looked at it. "Wow, this is small," he commented.

"It's a Polly Pocket," I told him. "All of their stuff is small, so you can put it in your pocket." I put the toys down I was holding, and walked over to get the backpack that my toys were in.

He had picked up a couple of Hello Kitty figurines and was looking at them.

"So there's more than one cat?" he asked me.

"Yeah, some of those are just her in different outfits, but she has a sister, and there are other characters too, Like ChocoCat and Keroppi."

"Ker-oppi?" He raised his eyebrows.

"He's a frog, that's the sound they make, right?" I opened the backpack and started to load the toys in.

He chuckled. "I guess you're right," he said. "You have a lot of little toys."

"I got them so I'd have something to play with when I went with Mommy when she got her treatments," I told him. "I had a really cool, big dollhouse, but I couldn't bring that with me. This stuff I could put in my pockets or in Mommy's purse."

He looked at me for a long moment, as if he didn't know what to say. Then he picked up an action figure, of Wolverine. "Now this, I recognize," he said. "How do you know the X-Men?"

"There was a cartoon on for a while. Mommy wouldn't let me watch the movies 'cause of violence and cussing. But the cartoons were cool."

"The boys liked the X-Men too." he said. "We'll have to see if there are any comics left at Bobby's."

"Comics?"

"Yeah, the boys loved to read comic books, and a lot of their stuff got left at Bobby's over the years. Next time we visit, we'll have to see if there's anything left."

Uncle Bobby came over. "Yeah, I still got stuff," he said. "You know me, I'm a pack rat, can't throw nothin' away. Of course, I had no idea I'd be saving that stuff to share with Dean's kid one day," he grinned. "I know I've got a bunch of comics and books, and a big box of Legos too."

"Those dam- darned things," Grandpa John said, shaking his head. "They always ended up all over the back seat and floor of the car, and there's still a couple shoved into the back heating vent of the Impala that I could never get out."

"Well, you don't have to listen to the rattle any more," Uncle Sam said from across the room. "I happen to think it's a comforting sound when the heat kicks on and the Legos rattle around for a second."

"Comforting? You've obviously never stepped on one in your bare feet in the middle of the night," Grandpa John retorted, and they laughed.

The hotel door opened, and I gasped a little bit. I saw Grandpa John look at me. It was just Daddy, and he walked over to Uncle Sam and they started to talk about hotels, looking at the laptop together.

"Oh, Uncle Sam, I forgot to have you brush my hair," I said, getting off the bed.

"I'll do it," Grandpa John said. "Let him talk with your Dad."

I walked into the bathroom and then brought my brush over to him, and sat in front of him.

"Your hair is the same color as Mary's," he said, as he started to brush through my hair.

"Mary?" I asked.

"My wife. Your grandmother."

"Oh, her. It is?"

"Yes. I'll have to see if I can find the picture I have of her when she was a kid, you look a lot like her."

"I do?"

"From what I can remember, yes. I only have a couple pictures of her from her childhood."

"Why?"

"There was... a fire when the boys were younger, and... most of our belongings were destroyed."

"Oh, sorry." I said. I realized that that must have been the fire I had seen, so I didn't want to ask him about it. From how upset he had looked, I guessed it had been really bad.

He handed me the brush. "If you have a hair elastic, I can braid your hair if you want." he said.

"Okay," I dug in the outer pocket of the backpack and put a couple on the bed next to me. He took the brush back, and I felt him moving my hair around. He braided one side, and then the other.

"Thank you," I said shyly, when he handed me the brush again. He looked down at me and smiled, and tweaked my nose.

I walked over to Daddy and put my arms around his waist. He looked down at me. "Don't you look cute," he said, tugging on the end of a braid.

"All right, I've found a place," he said. "It's a little far from here, and more expensive, but I'm willing to pay the extra. They've got a suite of attached rooms available this afternoon, at around 4 pm. So there's a set for us, and it connects to another set for you two. Is that all right?" Daddy looked at Grandpa John and Uncle Bobby.

"I don't know if I want to share a room with this old coot," Uncle Bobby jerked his thumb at Grandpa John. "He snores awful loud."

"As long as you don't have any fried onions, I won't mind, old man," Grandpa John replied, and they both chuckled. "If you have fried onions, you're sleeping in the tub that night."

"You ever notice, they're kinda like an old married couple?" Uncle Sam asked Daddy, and they grinned at each other.

"I have to make some more calls," Daddy said, looking down at me. He tried to move my arm.

"I want to be with you," I whined.

"I need some privacy, Charlie," Daddy told me. "I'll only be a couple of minutes."

I let go of him and bit my lip so I wouldn't cry.

"This hotel has a pool," Uncle Sam said to me. "Do you have a bathing suit?"

"Yeah," I said. "I think we packed it."

"Well, if not, we can get you one." Grandpa John said easily. "We should go get our bags together." He said to Uncle Bobby, and they left the room.

Uncle Sam shut down his laptop and closed it, and then walked over to the dresser to pack his things. I sat down at the table. "What did you get for breakfast?" I asked him.

"Muffins and bagels," he told me. "Go ahead and eat if you're hungry."

I looked in the bag and pulled out a large blueberry muffin.

Uncle Sam walked over to the fridge and got something out, then he brought it over to me. "I got you an orange juice," he said.

"Uh, I don't like orange juice," I said shyly. "Sorry."

"Oh, I thought you did. I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "Uh-uh, I don't like orange flavored things."

"Oh, okay. I'll have to remember that. What kind of juice do you like?"

"Um, apple or white grape or cranberry."

"Are you all packed?" he asked.

"Yeah, except for the stuff in the bathroom," I told him.

Daddy came back into the room. "Let's get a move on," he said, and he began to pack up his duffle. I heard a clicking noise, and looked over. He had a gun in his hands!

"Daddy, where did that come from?" I asked, shocked.

"In my bag," he said. He slid something out of the bottom of the gun, looked at it, and then shoved it back in. He put the gun in his pocket, and then turned to look at me. "You never, and I mean never, touch or mess with a gun or other weapon, you hear me? I know we talked about that before, but I am serious about this. I find you fooling with a gun or weapon, and the spanking that I give you will make all the other spankings you've gotten seem like love taps. You got that?"

"Uh- yes, Daddy," I said.

"Dean, you're scaring her," Uncle Sam said.

Daddy looked at Uncle Sam. "Good, she should be scared. This is very important, and I don't want her to forget it. She needs to take it seriously."

"Well, we need to make sure we're practicing proper weapons safety too," Uncle Sam said. He zipped his duffle closed, and then went into the bathroom. He came out with my toothbrush and toothpaste. "Charlie, I'm going to put this in with my stuff," he said.

"Okay, Uncle Sam," I said.

"Are we ready to go?" Daddy asked.

"Let me look around," Uncle Sam said. He walked over to the sofa and looked around.

"Charlie, you have all of your shoes?"

"Yeah, I think so," I got up and walked over to the sofa bed. I picked up my sandals and slip-ons. "Here they are."

"Put 'em in your bag, and let's get out of here," Daddy said.

I put them in my suitcase, and Uncle Sam came over and zipped it closed. He picked up my bags, and went out to the car, leaving the hotel door open.

Daddy shouldered his bag and turned to look at me. "Well?" he asked. "Come on, Charlie."

"Is it- it is okay?" I asked hesitantly.

"Yes, it's safe. You're with me and Uncle Sam. Come on, let's go." He held out his hand to me, and I walked across the room and took it. In a few minutes we were checked out and driving to a different hotel, even further away from my old life.