Ellen completed the outline of her sketch with a few strokes, and picked up her markers to begin filling in the color.

"Are you sure you can't give me a little sneak peek?" her mother asked.

"No, Mom," Ellen laughed. "I told you; it's a surprise."

The young artist concentrated on her work as she and her mother made conversation about their day; Emily told her about one of the weddings that her shop was providing the flowers for, and Ellen told her about how she was progressing with rehearsals for the Christmas recital.

"And how's Alex?" Emily asked.

"Mom, he's... it's been incredible," Ellen gushed. "He can be difficult at times, but... at heart, he's a good man, and he's kind, funny..."

"I just hope he's treating you better than Dennis did," Emily said with genuine concern.

Ellen bristled a bit before she spoke again. "He does."

In what felt like no time at all, Ellen finished filling in the color. "Okay, Mom, are you ready?"

"I am," she heard her mother say.

Ellen turned her sketchbook around and looked back up at her mother, and gasped.

Her mother's hair was beginning to fall off in clumps, and she looked like she had lost a dangerous amount of weight. Her forearms were covered in bruises from her chemotherapy treatments.

"Ellen, what's wrong?" Emily asked, apparently clueless.

Ellen looked at her sketch to see that it changed to resemble her mother's current appearance.

"No..." she whispered. "No."

She looked back up to see her mother looking exactly as she had when Ellen had visited her in the hospital the night before she died.

"Ellen, sweetheart..." Emily reached to her, but the younger woman dropped her sketchbook and backed up as her skin began to decompose before her eyes. "Don't be scared. It's me."

"No... get away," Ellen said, tripping over her own feet and crawling away. "Stay away!"

She fought her way back onto her feet and ran out the door of the house.

She kept running and running and running until she crashed into something.

No- someone.

"Ellen, what's wrong?"

She recognized the young man's voice, but she still looked up from the ground to see who it was. She would know those eyes anywhere.

"Alex?"

She burst into tears and fell back into his arms. The feeling of his embrace helped her sobs calm down, but they still had an intensity to them.

"Ellen, what's wrong?" he asked, stroking her hair. "Did... what happened? Are you hurt?"

"Mom- she- I thought that-" was all she could get out.

"Take deep breaths, Ellen, deep breaths," Alex instructed, but no matter how much she tried, she just couldn't.

"She was supposed to be in remission," she said. "It's been five years, and she's already looking like-"

"The cancer's back?" he asked.

"I- I don't know," she said. "She was fine minutes ago; we were in the living room, and I was drawing her, and then-"

Her words disintegrated into incoherent sobs once more, and she buried her face into Alex's chest. He didn't say anything, only stroking her hair with one hand and rubbing her back with the other. The sound of his heartbeat was soothing, helping to soothe her cries.

His hold began to tighten on her.

"Alex?" she spoke up .

"Shh..." his voice didn't sound like his own.

It was almost... distorted.

"Alex? I- I'm running out of-"

"Keep quiet, Ellie."

Her stomach twisted. Even if he hadn't used that goddamn nickname, she knew whose voice it was.

"Dennis...?"

She immediately began fighting against his grip on her.

"Let go of me! Let go!"

"No, Ellie, I let you get away before..."

"Let go!" she screamed. "Let go! Alex! Alex!"

She finally broke free and began running as fast as she could. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him.

"You really think he's gonna come for you?" Dennis asked rhetorically with a harsh scoff.

"He did before... and he didn't even know..." she didn't know who she was trying to convince; Dennis, or herself.

She was interrupted with a harsh slap that sent her to the ground. She could feel the side of her face beginning to swell, and helplessly rubbed at it.

"You're still that scared little fourteen-year-old girl I met four years ago," he said. "So desperate to cling to something; how is this boy any different than me?"

Ellen wanted to spit into his face and tell him that Alex was a much better man than he was, but a voice in her head that sounded not unlike Dennis' own told her that he was right.

How was her relationship with Alex any different than the four years that she spent with Dennis?

Before she could comprehend her surroundings once again, she felt him hit her again; this time, with a closed fist.

Ellen awoke with a full body spasm, aware of the tears falling down her face. She propped herself up on her elbow and looked around the room to confirm where she was.

She was in her dorm room.

It was early in the morning, Tricia was still asleep, and she remembered that she had an early dance class before the dining hall opened. Her stomach grumbled at the last thought, grounding her back in reality.

It was just a bad dream, she told herself internally before repeating it aloud, "It was just a bad dream."

Another growl from her stomach forced her to get up and get ready for the day.

The morning went by without incident, which Ellen was extremely thankful for. Dancing was supposed to be her escape from her issues, and she would not let Dennis regain control over her in what was supposed to be her refuge.

She just hoped that Alex wouldn't pick up on her mood during their classes.

She and Alex had two classes together in the morning, and they usually tried to get seats together now that they were dating. They would have lunch together on the quad around 10:45, then Ellen had her art class, and she and Alex usually didn't see each other until their last class of the day. Sometimes, after their classes had wrapped up for the day, they'd go out on an impromptu date, or she would accompany him back to his house for dinner.

"Ellen... are you okay?" Alex asked her as they walked out of the classroom and toward their usual spot on the quad.

"Of course I am," she lied. "Why?"

"You seemed a little distracted earlier," he said. "And you... you don't look like you got enough sleep last night."

"I just stayed up a little late to work on an art project," she lied again. "That's all."

From the look in his eyes, she could tell that he didn't exactly believe her, but he also knew that he shouldn't press her on it again unless she wanted to discuss it.

"Okay," he conceded. "Okay."

They sat down at one of the picnic tables.

"So, what are your plans for Thanksgiving? Are you...?" he trailed off a bit. "Are you going out of town?"

"No," she said. "I haven't really talked with my Aunt Sarah since I left for college, and my dad... let's just say I'm not ready to spend an hour in the same room as him, let alone a full week that includes a holiday."

"You're gonna spend Thanksgiving alone?" he asked.

"I guess," Ellen said, as if it wasn't that big of a deal. "Trish is going back to Charlotte to spend Thanksgiving with her parents. What about you?"

"Well, Grandma May is staying with Uncle Rob and his family for the holidays, because it's closer to where she lives, and my other grandparents are spending it with Aunt Michele, so it's just gonna be us at home," Alex said.

"That sounds nice," she said.

When her mom was alive, Thanksgiving was one of her favorite holidays. Her mom would go overboard making all of the Thanksgiving staples, plus a chocolate cream pie. But after her death, Ellen couldn't find anything worth being thankful for, especially after her falling-out with her father and running away to her aunt's house. After moving in with Aunt Sarah, since the older woman wasn't really the best cook, the holiday was more focused on the desserts with a pre-cooked turkey ordered from the grocery store.

"Would you like to spend Thanksgiving with us?" Alex asked.

At the question, Ellen blushed and bit the inside of her lip. Her stomach suddenly felt a little weird, and she didn't know why.

"You- would you really like that?" she asked. "What about your family? How would they feel about it?"

"They'd love it," he insisted. "They love having you over."

"I just don't want to crash a family holiday."

"You wouldn't be. I promise."

Ellen thought it over. As much as she didn't want to impose on the Keatons, she would be miserable spending the holiday alone. Especially after last night.

She gave him a small smile. "I'd love to."

Ellen finished coloring in the sketch. "Okay, Mom, are you ready?"

"I am," Emily said.

Ellen turned her sketchbook around and looked back up at her mother, and gasped.

Emily's hair was beginning to fall off in clumps, she looked like she had lost a dangerous amount of weight, her forearms were covered in bruises.

"Ellen, what's wrong?" Emily asked obliviously.

Ellen looked at her sketch to see that it changed to resemble her mother's current appearance.

"No..." she whispered.

She looked back up to see her mother looking exactly as she had the night before she died.

"Ellen, sweetheart..." Emily reached to her, but the younger woman dropped her sketchbook and backed up as her skin began to decompose before her eyes. "It's me."

"No... get away," Ellen said, tripping over her own feet and crawling away. "Stay away!"

She fought her way back onto her feet and ran out the door of the house.

She kept running and running and running until she crashed into someone.

"Ellen, what's wrong?"

She recognized the voice, but she still looked up from the ground to see who it was.

"Alex?"

She burst into tears and fell back into his arms. The feeling of his embrace helped her sobs calm down, but they still had an intensity to them.

"Ellen, what's wrong?" he asked, stroking her hair. "Did... what happened? Are you hurt?"

"Mom- she- I thought that-" was all she could get out.

"Take deep breaths, Ellen, deep breaths," Alex instructed, but no matter how much she tried, she just couldn't.

"She was supposed to be in remission," she said. "It's been five years, and she's already looking like-"

"The cancer's back?" he asked.

"I- I don't know," she said. "She was fine minutes ago; we were in the living room, and I was drawing her, and then-"

Her words disintegrated into incoherent sobs once more, and she buried her face into Alex's chest. He didn't say anything, only stroking her hair with one hand and rubbing her back with the other. The sound of his heartbeat was soothing, helping to soothe her cries.

His hold began to tighten on her.

"Alex?" she spoke up .

"Shh..."

"Alex? I- I'm running out of-"

"Keep quiet, Ellie."

Her stomach twisted.

"Dennis...?"

She immediately began fighting against his grip on her.

"Let go of me! Let go!"

"No, Ellie, I let you get away before..."

"Let go!" she screamed. "Let go! Alex! Alex!"

She finally broke free and began running as fast as she could. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him.

"You really think he's gonna come for you?" Dennis asked rhetorically with a harsh scoff.

"He did before... and he didn't even know..." she didn't know who she was trying to convince; Dennis, or herself.

She was interrupted with a harsh slap that sent her to the ground. She could feel the side of her face beginning to swell, and helplessly rubbed at it.

"You're still that scared little fourteen-year-old girl I met four years ago," he said. "So desperate to cling to something; how is this boy any different than me?"

Ellen wanted to spit into his face and tell him that Alex was a much better man than he was, but a voice in her head that sounded not unlike Dennis' own told her that he was right.

How was her relationship with Alex any different than the four years that she spent with Dennis?

Before she could comprehend her surroundings once again, she felt him hit her again; this time, with a closed fist.

Ellen almost fell out of her bed when she jolted awake in a cold sweat with a strangled sob. She took a few minutes to catch her breath when she noticed how her heart was pounding.

She sighed. "Not again."

She had that same nightmare over and over again for the past week. Her gaze fell on Tricia's bed, which she had neatly made before leaving for Charlotte.

I'm fine, she told herself. I'm fine.

She pushed herself to stand and get ready. Alex was going to pick her up at eight so that she would be at the house in time to watch the parade. She loosely braided her hair, and dressed herself in black, high-waisted mom jeans and an autumn-appropriate blouse that she had found a thrift store.

She was looking at herself in the mirror when she heard a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Tony Danza," Alex's voice joked from the other side of the door, making her laugh as she crossed over to open it.

Surprisingly, instead of his usual jacket and tie, he was wearing a royal blue sweater over a white, long-sleeved T-shirt and khakis.

"You look nice," Ellen said.

"So do you," he echoed.

"Really?" she asked, hating how needy she sounded.

What possessed her to ask him that? She knew she looked presentable, at least... didn't she?

"Yeah," he assured, taking her hand.

She felt the tension left over from her nightmare leave her body at his touch and allowed him to lead her to his car.

~oOoOo~

The aroma of assorted spices, brown sugar, and broast turkey enveloped Ellen as she entered the Keaton house. She could feel herself being transported back into the kitchen of her childhood home, helping her mother in the days leading up to Thanksgiving once she had been old enough.

"Hey, Ellen!" Mallory greeted brightly, leading a tall, muscular man with light brown hair styled in a mullet toward her. "This is my boyfriend, Nick. Nick, this is Ellen Reed."

"Hey," Nick greeted simply.

"Hi," Ellen said.

"Nick, did you know that Ellen is an artist, too?" Mallory asked.

"Yeah, I mainly focus on painting," Ellen said, feeling a little uncharacteristically shy. "What about you?"

"Sculpting," Nick replied. "I work mostly with trash and garbage."

"Oh, you upcycle," Ellen said.

Off their confused looks, she explained, "When you take something old or unwanted, and turn it into something new. Mal, I think you would like trying that. A lot of people do that in fashion and sewing. I know this nice thrift store where we could find some- I'm rambling, aren't I? Sorry."

Why can't you remember to keep your mouth shut? No one asked you, Ellie.

"It- it's fine," Mallory said, furrowing her brows. "Ellen, are you okay? You- you're looking a little pale."

"Yeah, sit down," Nick and Alex led Ellen to the couch.

"Did you eat this morning?" Alex asked.

"I'm fine," Ellen said. "I'm fine."

Elyse and Jennifer came down the stairs, with Elyse holding Andy.

"Ellen's here!" Jennifer said. "Hey, Ellen!"

"Hi, Jen," Ellen waved. "Hi, Mrs. Keaton."

She smiled at Andy. "Hi, Andy."

Andy made excited, gurgling noises, reaching out towards Ellen, making everyone laugh. Elyse passed him over to Ellen.

"Hey, bubba," Ellen cooed. "It's your first Thanksgiving? Excited?"

Andy just babbled before pointing to the kitchen and saying "Da-da."

"Yeah, Da-da's in the kitchen," Ellen continued baby-talking. "Why don't we go say hi to him?"

She stood up and began walking to the kitchen.

Could you just get out? I'm trying to study!

Ellen stopped, but corrected herself when she remembered that she had the baby in her arms and that everyone else was watching her. She entered the kitchen, where Steven was working on dinner.

"Hi, Mr. Keaton," she greeted.

"Oh, hi, Ellen," he looked up from the stove.

"Do you need any help?" she asked.

"No, I got everything covered," he replied.

"Oh, okay," Ellen nodded.

I don't need your help! You'd just be in the way!

As she was turning to leave, he said, "Well, you could sprinkle some of the cinnamon sugar on the apple pie. It's on the counter."

"Okay. Thanks."

Ellen began dusting the pie crust with cinnamon sugar with one hand, while still holding Andy in her other arm. She smiled at the memory of her mother teaching her how to make her favorite pumpkin pie.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Mr. Keaton!" Skippy greeted as he entered the back door.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Skippy," Mr. Keaton and Ellen echoed.

"Hey, Ellen!" Skippy walked over to her. "I forgot that you were coming over today."

Ellen smiled. "Hey, Skip. How come you're not spending Thanksgiving with your family?"

"Oh, my parents went to visit my mom's brother in Kentucky, but my uncle only lets them in the house if I'm not there," Skippy explained as if it was no big deal.

All Ellen to could to that was, "Oh."

~oOoOo~

After the parade and dinner, everyone gathered in front of the TV to watch a movie.

"Ellen, why don't you decide?" Alex suggested.

Ellen looked at the tapes laid out on the coffee table, but only one caught her eye.

"What about The Music Man?" she suggested. "That was one of my mom's favorites."

She smiled at the memory of her mother telling the story of when she saw the film for the first time- the night that Ellen's father proposed to her. While Ellen now wondered what her mother had seen in him, she couldn't deny that they were in love.

"The Music Man, it is," Elyse agreed, going to put the tape in the VCR.

The first half of the movie went by without incident; Ellen quietly hummed "Goodnight, My Someone," one of her favorite songs from the film; Alex bopped Andy on his knee to the tune of "Seventy-Six Trombones" as the baby seemed to coo in tune to the standard.

It was during what would be considered Act Two in the film that the domestic, peaceful feeling slipped away. During "Till There Was You," Alex, who had wrapped his arm around Ellen earlier, gave her a little squeeze.

"Alex?" she spoke up .

"Shh..."

"Alex? I- I'm running out of-"

"Keep quiet, Ellie."

Through no volition of her own, Ellen gave a shudder and moved as quickly as she could from him.

"El- Ellen, are you okay?" Alex asked.

She could feel everyone's eyes fall on her; she tried to ignore her humiliated feeling in favor of Shirley Jones' "sweet and low" soprano.

"I'm- I'm just tired," she admitted.

That was part of the truth; she had not slept well in the past week.

"Why don't you head up to my room and take a nap?" Alex suggested. "You want me to walk up with you?"

"No, I- I can walk up the stairs," she insisted, a little more firmly than she intended. "You don't want to miss the finale."

To make up for her harsh words, she gave Alex a quick, chaste kiss, and kissed the top of little Andy's head before she began walking upstairs. She was already half-asleep by the time she collapsed on Alex's bed.

She buried her face into Alex's chest. He didn't say anything, only stroking her hair with one hand and rubbing her back with the other. The sound of his heartbeat was soothing, helping to soothe her cries.

His hold began to tighten on her.

"Alex?" she spoke up .

"Shh..."

"Alex? I- I'm running out of-"

"Keep quiet, Ellie."

Her stomach twisted.

"Dennis...?"

She began fighting against his grip on her.

"Let go of me!"

"No, Ellie, I let you get away before..."

"Alex! Alex!"

She finally broke free and began running as fast as she could. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him.

"You really think he's gonna come for you?" Dennis asked rhetorically with a harsh scoff.

"He did before... and he didn't even know..." she didn't know who she was trying to convince; Dennis, or herself.

She was interrupted with a harsh slap that sent her to the ground.

"You're still that scared little fourteen-year-old girl I met four years ago," he said. "So desperate to cling to something; how is this boy any different than me?"

Ellen wanted to spit into his face and tell him that Alex was a much better man than he was, but a voice in her head that sounded not unlike Dennis' own told her that he was right.

Before she could comprehend her surroundings once again, she felt him hit her again; this time, with a closed fist.

"Ellen! Ellen, wake up!"

It was Alex's voice, his hands gripped on top of her shoulders. She opened her eyes and saw how his face was overtaken with concern and fear.

"Oh, thank God!" he exclaimed with relief.

He pulled her into his arms, running his hand up and down her back.

"Alex... what's wrong?"

"You... you were crying," he said. "I didn't know what else to do besides wake you up."

Her cheeks, wet from her tears, turned red and she turned away.

"I... it was just a bad dream," she said.

"Do... do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

She just rubbed her eyes and curled in on herself. "I- I don't know if I do."

"I'm here whether you want to, or not," he told her, still rubbing her back.

Ellen looked back at him into his eyes. She leaned closer into him, but hesitantly.

This wasn't a nightmare.

This was real.

Dennis was far away from her, and there was no way he was going to find her.

She had Alex and his family now.

"It was about my mom," she began quietly. "I never told you how she died, did I?"

"No."

"Lung cancer," she told him. "And she never smoked a day in her life. I don't know- maybe it's genetic. I don't know. In the dream, she started out healthy, but... then she slowly began to look like how she did before she died... so weak and thin and... then you showed up, but then it wasn't you, it was..."

She didn't have to finish that sentence for him to know whom she was talking about. He already knew the truth about her relationship with Dennis; she had come clean about it a few weeks ago.

She wouldn't have realized how labored her breathing had become if Alex hadn't begun instructed her to breathe.

"Breathe, Ellen, just breathe... you can stop if you want."

Ellen sighed gratefully. "Thank you."

"How long have you been having this nightmare?" he asked.

"Last week."

"El- why didn't you tell me?"

"I- I didn't want you to worry about me," she said. "I saw how disappointed you were in me when you mentioned I looked like I hadn't slept well."

"That wasn't what I meant," he said. "I was- I was a little scared, because you looked so rundown and I didn't know why. I tried to tell myself that since you have a recital next month, you were just tired from rehearsing, but I knew there was something more than that and I just got more worried-"

He stopped, knowing that this wasn't helping Ellen whatsoever.

"Ellen, I just don't want you to feel like you can't tell me anything," he summed up his feelings for her. "It's okay to let me know if you've been having a few bad nights."

She nodded. "Okay. I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright," he assured her.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Alex spoke up again.

"How would you feel about staying here tonight?" he suggested.

Ellen gave a small smile. "I'd like that."

And that night, she slept well for the first time in a week.