Matt murmured sleepily, rolling over in his soft bed, clutching his pillow. The strong scent of laundry detergent filled his young mind and he sneezed. He sat up with a sleepy blink, wondering what woke him up.

"Matt," he hear his father call from down the hall. "Hurry up or your breakfast will get cold."

The child poured himself out of his bed, landing in an ungraceful lump on the floor. He shook his head and yawned.

"Matt." The door to his room opened, a tall woman standing there with a crooning baby on her hip, towel draped down her front. She looked at him with icy blue eyes that swirled with something unidentifiable. "If you don't get dressed, I'll put you in charge of feeding TK this morning." As though to drive her point home, the baby suddenly spit up all over the towel and began giggling, obviously pleased with himself.

Go away...

"Ok, Momma." His mother's head twitched to one side, a mild movement the child didn't notice and one she was used to hiding with a flick of her hair. She didn't move from the hallway, and Matt still felt her eyes on him as he undressed. He was a big boy now, and his dad let him change himself every day. His little brother fussed, pounding tiny fists into his own excrement and working himself into a howling wail, but still his mother stood, watching.

Leave me alone.

Matt was just pulling his favorite green shirt over his head when his father appeared, a warmly concerned smile on his face.

"Nancy, are you ok?"

His mother blinked herself out of a daze, looking to her husband. "Of course, Malcolm. Is something wrong?"

"I've been calling you." He looked in on his child. "Lookin' handsome, son."

Matt beamed and Nancy bit her lip thoughtfully. The young boy happily toddled out to meet his family, his father swooping his up in a big hug. It was the rare occasion that the four were together, and Matt knew even at his young age to cherish those moments.

Malcolm had made breakfast that morning, so the blackened eggs and mushy rice were in the trash and the warm take-out was steaming on the table. They had just sat down, Nancy was in a fresh shirt and coddling TK as she began to feed him and Matt was happily grabbing handfuls of noodles while his father tried to encourage him to use chopsticks. The morning was still young, the atmosphere warm, the feeling of family and belonging thick in the air.

It makes me sick.

The phone rang suddenly. Malcolm's face twisted into a grimace as Nancy glared.

"Don't you dare," she told him.

For once, listen to her. Please, dad...

"I gotta," Malcolm said, pleading with her cold stare. Matt looked between his parents and even TK could understand the tension as he started to cry. Nancy bounced the baby on her knee, and her husband pleaded over the shrill sound of the phone. "If I don't take this, we might lose the house."

Nancy just growled, turning her full attention to her children. Malcolm paused, not wanting to start another week of fighting, but the pressing need for work won out and he snatched the phone out of the receiver on the last ring.

"Ishida here... I see... When...?! But, sir, I... How much...? I see."

Nancy refused to look up from TK as Malcolm slowly began walking to the back of the house. Matt looked around, but his young confusion was already morphing into bitterness. He was too young to fully understand why he couldn't look at his father as he came back, dressed in his suit, and he didn't know why he flinched away when Malcolm tried to kiss him goodbye. The man looked at his small family with a helpless sigh.

Dad... Please, God, don't go!

The sound of the door closing echoed through the large house and Nancy stood, grabbing Matt's hand.

"Let's wash up," she said, tugging him out of his chair. She was bouncing TK on her hip, drowning out his wails with her own crooning. Matt followed her to the bathroom, watching as she stumbled. She leaned heavily against the counter as she washed her baby's cheeks, wiping away his breakfast. Matt squirmed next to her feet, looking up at her as his brother fussed.

"Momma, why'd Dad go?" he asked, sticking his thumb in his mouth.

"Because your father," she spat the word, rubbing TK's cheek harshly, "care more about money than family." She put her hand to her temple, swaying from a sudden dizzy spell. She recovered as best she could and shoved the rag at Matt. "Now, get cleaned up while I put TK in his crib."

Run! Get out of there!

Matt scrubbed his hands, wanting to please his mother. Nothing made him happier than being called a good boy, and with his father gone suddenly, he craved the attention. He could hear his mother put on a tape in his brother's room, the loud sounds of cartoons blaring out into the hallway. Nancy closed the door behind her and poked her head into the bathroom.

"Are you clean, sweetie?"

Matt dropped the rag at his feet, happily waving his fingers at his mother. "All clean."

That odd, distanced look came back to her eyes. "No, sweetie, you're not."

The young child pouted. He'd worked hard to be a good boy and now he wasn't. He sniffled, knowing that those noises always made his Nancy pay attention to TK. His mother reached over, fingertips gently touching Matt's cheek.

"You're still dirty."

Not again. Just leave me alone!

She picked him up, and carried him to her own room. Matt looked around. He wasn't allowed in his parents' room, even if he had a nightmare. Nancy set him on the bed, locking the door behind her.

"You're still very dirty."

She looked at him again. Her face was twisted, a featureless mask with two large eyes. They drooped, leaking blood and a long tendril of flesh reached out to remove Matt's shirt. The child quivered, starting to cry now.

"Momma..."

Her body was distorted now, inflated breasts and wide engulfing hips. Her legs were suddenly skinny rails that couldn't bend, with a thick forest of dark fur emerging from her miniskirt, but she moved fluidly. As her mask moved closer, smushed around like clay trying to take form, a voice echoed from deep within it's chest.

"Don't call me 'Momma' now. Call me 'Nancy' and you'll be my good boy."

Matt woke with a start. He was choking on a scream, unable to breathe. He reached out, now instinctively, trying to get through the privacy curtain to the only other boy who knew – who understood. His vision finally returned to his wide eyes and he looked around, stomach churning.

He was still in the amusement park. Tai had dressed long ago, curled up asleep by the fire. Gabumon had taken over Agumon's shift and he wanted to go to his Tamer and soothe the pain in his soul. But the blonde just stood, stumbling to where he and Tai had...

And vomited.

He couldn't feel the tears pouring down his cheeks, or the hitch in his chest as he struggled to breathe. He couldn't hear his own sobs as he sunk to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself. He could still feel his mother's touch, mirroring the eager lovemaking from earlier, and the bile in his stomach heaved and he threw up again, until there was nothing left in him.