Delilah's head shot up from her bed. She could tell something was wrong. Living in a house with 99 puppies gave her a keen sense of knowing when one of them needed her.
She quietly opened the door to her room and made sure to shut it, as not to wake her husband, Doug. And made her way downstairs to where her children slept. It was almost reassuring. Seeing all 99 of her brood laying about large, corner bedroom of their London home. Pups lay on the floor, in drawers, under tents made for them and even on each other! Deepak snored softly from his hanging bed above Dizzy and Deedee's bed where the twins laid snuggled together. Dawkins snored from his tent bed above a bookshelf. From the looks of things, he had zonked out working on a blueprint of some kind. She chuckled to herself. "Always tinkering."
Triple D, the nickname given to the female triplets. Snoozed almost in rhythm next to one another. Her youngest, Dorothy, slept curled up next to Da Vinci, who was no doubt dreaming of her next work of art. Delgado was sleeping in his box bed, his wheelchair removed and put to the side. His front paws moving as if he was running.
"Even in his dreams." Delilah thought. "Nothing slows him down." She almost jumped a bit to hear a soft, 'digdigdigdigdig!' from below her. Only to realize it was Diesel, sleeping in his dirt spot under the floorboards. No doubt dreaming of digging.
Everything seemed okay. And while she didn't want anything to be wrong, she couldn't shake the fact that something was… She expected it to be Dawkins again. He had been having trouble sleeping after losing his precious 'Princess Positron' doll. But he seemed fine. If it wasn't him, it was usually Dante. Having another 'prophetic' dream about the end of the world. But no, he was sleeping peacefully on his dark corner. Everything seemed fine.
She was just about to head back upstairs, dismissing her worries as simple parental concerns that happen even when nothing is wrong… We she heard it.
"No." A voice said. "Stop."
She turned to the last one of her pups she ever thought she'd have to worry about during the night. Her oldest son, Dylan.
He was sleeping in his usual spot, under the unused fireplace, usually hugging his prized space helmet. At least whenever Dorothy didn't favor him to snuggle with during the night. But now he was tossing and turning. His face looked upset-No… He looked scared. He was mumbling something… Something she couldn't make out.
"No." He repeated. "Let her go." Now Delilah was worried. Dylan was the least fearful of her pups. He was the one she could always count on to watch over the rest of his siblings without worrying. And he was usually the one to comfort them when they had bad dreams. Now, it looked like he was having one.
Delilah quietly made her way over to him. Not wanting to wake the others up, she very gently nudged him with her nose.
"Dylan?" She whispered. "Wake up sweetie, you're having a nightmare."
"Please." He said, still dreaming. "Don't. Please."
"Dylan?" She repeated, a bit louder.
"Let her go." He continued. "Don't hurt her."
"Who is talking about?" Delilah thought. She silently scoffed. "This better not be over something foolish like that board game he plays." She nudged him again.
"Dylan." She said, a bit louder. "Wake up."
His head shot up almost instantly. He started panting and was sweating. He looked around, as if not sure about where he was. When his eyes focused on her, he calmed down.
"Mum?" He asked.
"Yeah, sweets. What's wrong?" She asked.
As if it finally dawned on him that he was awake. He started breathing slower… And then he looked up at her… And she knew his dream was not about a fantasy game character.
He had tears in his eyes. He was shaking. Her trained ears could pick up his heartbeat getting faster. She had seen this before, working as a therapy dog had given her a trained eye on how to spot a problem… And her son was having a panic attack!
She took hum in hug, holding him close and breathing slowly.
"It's okay love." She said softly. "Whatever it was, it was just a dream."
Seeming to understand, he returned the hug. "Oh mum!" He said. "It was so real!"
"I know." She said. "But it wasn't."
"But I saw her… Dolly. She-" He stopped and his head shot upward. Looking to the fireplace mantle that the oldest daughter of the family chose to sleep on. She was there. Spread out rather un-lady-like across it, snoring loud enough to give her father a run for his money.
He let out a sigh. "Oh, thank dog." He said, resting his head on her chest. "Thank dog."
"This is just getting more concerning." Delilah thought. "Him and Dolly never worry about each other." She pulled away and put a paw under his chin. "Dylan, son are you alright?" She asked.
"Yeah." He said, panting slowly. "I'm alright. It-It was just a bad dream."
"More than that." Delilah said. "You're shaking!"
"I'll be fine." He insisted. "I'll be fine."
"What was it about?" She asked. "And what does it have to do with Dolly?" She suddenly realized that might not have been the best choice of words when she saw his eyes tear back up. He buried his face in paws and looked away, as if he was embarrassed.
She pulled him close. "C'mon." She said softly while standing up and guiding him out of the room. "Let's go somewhere where we won't wake them, then you can tell me all about it."
The mother and son sat opposite of each other on the family's blue sofa. Dylan not wanting to make eye contact with her. Even though he was still jittery, he seemed embarrassed.
"Now." She said. "What kind of dream has got my boy so shook."
Dylan mumbled. "I kinda feel silly." He said. "I know it wasn't real."
"But it scared you." Delilah said. "And not in a silly way. That much is certain."
Dylan finally looked at her. "It felt so real… It's like I was there." Delilah put a paw on his back.
"Whatever it is, you can tell me." She said. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone else."
"Even Dolly?" He asked. Delilah looked at him in surprise.
"Why not tell Dolly?" She asked. Dylan looked away. "Just… Just promise me you won't tell Dolly, okay?" He asked.
Delilah wanted to ask but knew it wouldn't help. The pleading look in his eyes made that clear.
"Alright." She said. "I will not tell Dolly. I promise. Now, tell me what-"
"She killed her, mum." Dylan interrupted. "She killed Dolly."
"Who?" Delilah asked. This explained his concern for his sister earlier.
Dylan looked up at her, trembling.
"Cruella." He whispered.
"What?" Delilah answered… That name… Why on this earth did it have to be that name?
Not long ago. The old enemy of the Dalmatian family, Cruella De Vil, had returned. Her vile desires not quelled over the time since Delilah's great-great grandparents foiled her. She was still hell-bent on creating what she thought would be her magnum opus… A fur coat. Fashioned from the skin of dalmatian puppies! Despite the family's best efforts, she still managed to round them up and almost succeeded in her goal. Delilah shuddered as she remembered the twisted, grotesque excuse for a human being. Smiling down at her and husband as they struggled against their restraints.
"You two are too old for my coat." She said. "But I'm thinking… Matching luggage?" Delilah's fear for her own life paled in comparison to what she said next.
"But I wanted to bring you together." The devil woman cooed. "So you can watch!" She turned to reveal a machine that Delilah could only imagine Satan himself built! A machine to skin her puppies, her children, in the most gruesome, inhumane way possible! And she was going to force them to helplessly watch as she did it!
If it wasn't for her son and daughter. As well as some of their friends, God bless them, they wouldn't be here today.
That fact eased Delilah's mind a bit. That monster failed and is now serving a prison sentence. What it didn't help, was the fact that her usually steadfast son was having a nightmare about her.
"Cruella?" Delilah repeated.
Dylan nodded. "She came back." He said. "She came after us again! And she-she killed Dolly!" He started tearing up again. Delilah wrapped her paws around him and softly nuzzled him.
"It's alright, sweets." She said. "It was just a dream."
"But it felt so real!" Dylan protested. "I could smell her! That nasty stuff she sprays on her, I could smell that."
"Smell stay with us." Delilah said. "Even in our dreams."
"She came after us and… I tried to get the pups to safety but Dolly… Dolly tried to fight her."
"Of course, she would." Delilah said. "Dolly's as fierce as a wolf."
"She jumped at her but… Cruella snatched her right our of the air… And with those long, nails she has… She-" His voice trembled as he recalled the awful scene his subconscious had conjured up.
"She slashed her throat…" He said, softly. "I saw blood, I heard her choke… I saw her go limp!"
"Blimey!" Delilah thought. "What sick part of his brain made that up?!"
"But… Before she did it. I saw Dolly. She looked at me, she was crying… I heard her, as clearly as I'm hearing you and she said. "'Dylan… Help me!'… But I couldn't… I couldn't move or anything… I couldn't save her!" He buried his face in his mother's shoulder, now weeping uncontrollably…
"I know." Delilah said. "I know… But it didn't happen. Dolly is fine, you saw. She's sleeping on her mantle and will be up and about to jump around and bother you in a few hours." She had hoped that would ease his mind, but it didn't. Instead he just pulled away and wouldn't look at her.
"The worst part… Was that after she… Did it… She left." Dylan said. "She didn't try and go after anyone else… She just smiled at me and left…"
"Why would she do that?" Delilah said. "She wanted all of us."
"Before she left… She looked and me and…grinned." He said that last part as if a smile was the worst thing to ever receive.
"And she said… 'Don't look so surprised. You turned my nephew against me! You and those other fleabags lost me my coat… I'm simply returning the favor. Now, no matter where you go, or how many times you escape me… You'll always know you couldn't save her!'"
Delilah stared in shock. "What on earth?!" She thought.
"That's when you woke me up." Dylan said.
They sat there for a few awkward moments… Delilah trying to process everything.
"Well." She finally said. "That sounds like quite a nightmare."
"No kidding!" Dylan said. "I've never had nightmares like that!" He buried his face in mother's shoulder. "It was awful!"
"I know, love. I know." Delilah said as she tried to comfort him. "But it's over now."
"I know but…" Dylan said, his lip trembling. "I can't help it… It felt so real." He hugged his mother tightly. "Every time I close my eyes… I just see Dolly, begging me to help her and…"
"I know." Delilah repeated. "You have every right to feel scared. But you need to remember. Dolly is alright. As other the other ninety-seven of your brothers and sisters. Cruella is gone. Locked away in a prison. From what Pearl tells us, she's wanted for more than just dognapping, so it's unlikely she'll see the sun again, much less a dalmatian." She released him so she could look at his face. "I know it was a fright, but we lived through it. And are going to be just fine. You have to believe that."
Dylan wiped his eyes. "I know, mum." He said. "It's just… I can't help but worry. What if she breaks out of prison and come after us? What if she actually gets her hands on any of us? She's probably learned by now. What if she just ki-"
"Stop." Delilah ordered in a firm voice. "That is poisonous thinking. If you keep thinking like that, you'll hurt yourself."
"But how can I not?" He said. "There's too many what-Ifs!"
"And they are all meaningless!" Delilah said. "There is always a what-if. There will always be a what-if. But is dwelling them going to help you?"
"I…I guess not." Dylan admitted.
Delilah's expression softened. "You know. My Great-Granddad, Patch. Had a saying about what-ifs. 'What-ifs are just vanity. They distract us from the present and fill our heads with things that are not certain.' Everything in your dream was a what-if." She promised. "Nothing but a hypothetical situation made up of your own trauma and imagination."
"Wow." Dylan said. "I thought only Dawkins used words like that."
"Where do you think he got it?" Delilah asked with a wink. Then, in a more serious manner. Placed a paw under his chin.
"Now, tell me. Where is your sister?" She asked.
"Wha?"
"Answer me."
"Um… Asleep, on the mantle." Dylan answered.
"And where is Cruella?" She asked.
"In prison." Dylan answered. "Locked up."
"Very good." Delilah said. "Now, nothing is going to hurt Dolly or you, or any of us. We lived out our worst nightmare and survived. Nothing else can top that." She let go of his paw. "Do you understand?"
"I guess." He said.
"You guess?"
"Well… It's just… what woman held on to a vendetta against Great-Great-Great-Grandma and Grandpa for almost sixty years." Dylan pointed out. "And when she came back, not only was she super prepared, she personally took you and Dad to stop you from interfering. She was this close to getting what she wanted. Then me and Dolly ruined it."
"And?" Delilah asked.
"And, what if she blames us? It wouldn't be beneath her."
And then Delilah answered with something he was not expecting.
"And what if she does?" Delilah asked. "What can she do about it? She's locked away. Let her seethe about the fact that she was bested by two teenaged pups. Let her plot her revenge only to realize she's finished. It won't do her any good."
"I know but… How can I not worry?" He asked. "How do stop thinking about what might happen?"
Delilah sighed. "Dylan, look at me." He looked up to meet her calm, gentle eyes.
"I think you've got this all backwards."
"What do you mean?"
"Why should you be afraid of her? She lost a fight to a fox!"
Dylan allowed himself a smile as he recalled his friend tangling, and winning, against Cruella. "I guess." He said. "I guess Fergus wasn't kidding about fox's being tough."
"No, he was not." Delilah said. "He was a match for her than both me and your dad." She recalled their scuffle with some regret. "And her goons were beaten by a rat and a squirrel. How on earth can someone like that be scary."
"She still almost won." Dylan said.
"But she didn't." Delilah reminded him. "Because of you, your sister, and your friends. Let's not forget it was you who outsmarted Hunter so many times."
"I mean… Kinda?" Dylan said.
"Not 'kinda'." Delilah replied. "And you two rescued me and your dad." She chuckled. "You've got claim to very big boast, Mr. Dylan Dalmatian. You've become one of the few dogs to equally repay the dog that brought you into this world!"
Dylan finally let a chuckle escape his lips. Laughing alongside his mother.
She sighed. "You know. You remind me, so much of Great-Great-Granddad." She said. "He was loyal, caring, and loved his family to the death. You're very much the same."
Dylan shuffled awkwardly.
"The fact that you're afraid of losing your sister is a testament of how much you love her. All of your siblings. You don't have to be afraid of that woman." She said. "You and Dolly are stronger, smarter, and braver than her. Even if she did come back, you two would know what to do."
"You really think so?" Dylan asked.
"I know so." Delilah said. "And you need to know it too."
Dylan finally smiled. "Thanks mum."
"You're welcome, sweets." She said as she hugged him.
She walked him back to his room and watched from the doorway as he settled down next to his space helmet.
"Goodnight." He whispered.
"Goodnight." She whispered back. She turned to leave… But glanced behind her to see him climbing up onto the mantle and laying next to Dolly.
The Dalmatian mother smiled. She left them and headed back upstairs. She very carefully curled up next to her husband. And in few minutes, for the first time in quite a while.
All 101 dalmatians slept peacefully.
-Fin-