The Deaths Come Marching One By One

Disclaimer: I don't own anything here :)

Summary: A misinterpretation of the phrase "lost the baby". This is the moment that changes Mort's life...This is why he writes horror. This is why Amy left him. Too many deaths...Who's fault is it really? Rating will most likely change.

A/N: Mmm...hot chocolate, rainy clouds, and The Used. :D Perfect situation for another chapter right? Hm...Maybe I'm not writing good enough summaries...Maybe that's why I never get reviews lol. I'll try changing it. Later kids ---Rae

Chapter Two: More Hurtful Than A Fistfight

Mort had a difficult time getting up the next morning. He pulled the covers over his head and groaned. He then quickly perked his head up to look at the clock. It was already 9:30. Oh damn. He jumped up and rushed downstairs, finding the house empty. Amy had taken Carolyn to school. Mort looked around sadly, wishing he had gotten up sooner. He loved bringing his daughter to school.

But once again, he was just being a lazy father. He sat down at the kitchen table in guilt. He picked up the spoon to the bowl of Frosted Flakes Carolyn hadn't finished. But he put it back down, thinking he should get to work on his story. He headed into his office and sat down at the computer that was already on.

Mort began re-reading what he'd already written....

James glanced quickly out the window of the tall office building and saw nothing but grey clouds hurrying toward the city. He wanted to get home. He had to. His son could be born any second. He had to be there for them.
He wanted to quit with the negotiating and just get it all over with, but he couldn't. He had to sit here and be assigned to all these countries around this lonely world, traveling further and further with each new location. Last time it was Greenland. Then it was Brazil. Now it's the U.K. He tried to explain to the presidents and such that his wife was expecting any day now, but they wouldn't let him stay. They continued in saying that James was "important" in their business and held great power in other countries. He honestly did not care though....He wanted to hold power in his own home...Like a father.

It was incredible how it was so simple for Mort to write when he was thinking of his family. He wouldn't know what would happen to him if he ever lost them....

Several hours later, Amy came home. Mort was worried. Amy usually doesn't come until around 5.

Mort met her at the door and kissed her quickly on the lips. "Why are you home so early?"

"I got another call from Carolyn's school."

"Why didn't they call here? I could have gone."

"Well because the school doesn't have our home phone. Only my cell."

"Why?"

Amy didn't answer.

"Can I come with you?"

"I think I should just go alone."

Amy suddenly saw the hurt in Mort's eyes. She realized how much he wanted to go. "Honey. I'm just going to pick her up. Next time we have to talk to the principal or something though, you can go okay?"

"...Okay," he agreed reluctantly. Amy smiled, gave him a kiss and left.

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Amy returned with a disturbed Carolyn about ten minutes later. Mort was nervously pacing the living room. He wondered what his daughter had done this time.

He saw the two walk through the front door and Mort looked at Carolyn timidly. "Hey, sweetie. You wanna tell me what happened at school today?"

"No!" Carolyn ran up the stairs.

Mort was taken aback. "What happened?" he asked Amy instead.

"Well...I talked to her teacher for a second and she said she just wasn't participating in any of the activities with the other kids....Then one of the kids started calling her names and she got really upset and started shouting back at him. I don't know what we're going to do...She won't talk to anyone about it."

"It's okay. I'll try talking to her."

Mort went upstairs into Carolyn's room. She was sitting on her bed, clutching her pillow.

"Hey, baby cakes. What's the matter?"

"Leave me alone."

Mort sat down next to her and took her in his arms. "Did you get in another fight with someone at school?"

"...Yes."

"Why?"

"He was being mean."

"What did he say?"

Carolyn remained silent for a second, letting Mort stroke her auburn colored hair comfortingly. "He said...he said we were poor because there are holes on the knees of my pants and I wear t-shirts....So I started yelling at him."

Mort stared at her and gave her a hug. He hadn't ever really thought about the appearance of his daughter before. He knew she was the most beautiful little girl in the world. He never second-guessed it.

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That night at dinner, the three of them sat around the table, none of them saying much. "So do you have any homework, Carolyn?" Amy asked.

"No. I didn't get any before I left."

The family remained silent for a few more minutes. It was obvious all three of them were searching around for a topic. Well, maybe not Carolyn.

Suddenly Carolyn dropped her fork onto her plate and covered her mouth with her hands, coughing hard. Amy, who was sitting closest to her at the side of the table, handed her a glass of water, looking worried. She took a drink but swallowed it with difficulty. After a minute or so, the coughing had stopped. Mort and Amy stared at her in worry.

"Are you okay, hun?" Mort asked from across the table. She nodded.

Amy felt her forehead and her eyes widened. "Carolyn, you're burning up!"

"No, I'm not," she added reluctantly. "I'm fine." Her voice was distant and faint.

"No, sweetie, you're not," Amy argued, now up and rummaging through the drawers for a thermometer. She found it and rushed back over to her daughter and stuck it in her mouth. Mort and Amy waited with baited breath.

Amy finally removed it from her mouth, reading the temperature.

And it was off to the hospital.

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A/N: Sorry about the delay of this chapter. Review please ok? I love you! ---Rae