Disclaimer: I don't own WOWP but if I did I doubt they would allow it on Disney Channel.

Chapter Four: Daddy's Home

Justin jerked in his sleep waking Alex. His skin was now cold to the touch and clammy with sweat. He shivered and she cuddled close to him, wrapping her arms around him, trying to warm him with her own body heat.

He struggled against her mumbling agitatedly. "I'm sorry! Let me out! … Please, let me out!" he whined fitfully, trying to jerk free of whatever was restraining him.

Alex only held him tighter until he calmed. His body eventually relaxed and she loosened her hold on him, closing her eyes she went back to sleep.

Justin sat in the corner of the living room coloring. Huddled up he did the best he could to take up the least amount of space as possible, be as quiet as he could, and go completely unnoticed. His mother was in another of her panicked moods and he knew it was best not to bother her. He knew that his mother loved him but he also knew some of the things he did scared her. It scared him too because he didn't know how or why things happened, just that apparently he was the source of it all. So he was extra careful, extra careful not to set anything off.

Lisa Denalli fidgeted around the small shabby apartment scrubbing and polishing, arranging and rearranging, trying to make everything 'nice', but at the age of four Justin already knew that nothing was ever 'nice' enough, at least not in his father's opinion. His mother was frantic in her need to clean though and as upset as she was he didn't want to risk making anything worse, so he stayed in the corner, tried not to do anything bad, tried to blend in with the peeling yellow wallpaper.

Being a little boy sitting still was not an easy thing to do but he managed, although his mind wandered. He was bored and thirsty, his stomach growled a little and he almost wanted to shush it. He had been doing so good at being quiet up until that point. His mom had forgotten snack time in her rush to clean the house and with his hunger quickly growing all her could think about was grape juice and gold fish crackers.

He looked at his mother, who was on the verge of tears at she tried to position the couch cushions so that the many stains would not show. He couldn't interrupt her not when she was like this. Distracting himself he focused all his attention on coloring. Frowning he stared down at his Elmo coloring book, concentrating on each stroke of his red crayon to get the fur texture just right, to keep all the color within the lines. His stomach grumbled again, this time loudly, and his crayon ran off the picture causing a long streak across the page. His tummy ached at its emptiness causing his eyes to travel over the small apartment, finally landing fixedly on the kitchen area.

Goldfish crackers and grape juice, so simple but so out of reach. He knew that the grape juice was on the top shelf of the refrigerator and the crackers were in the upper cabinets. He knew he couldn't get to them but as his stomach rumbled and whined out to be filled he could think of nothing else.

There was a loud pop. The fridge flew open and grape juice exploded all over the kitchen. A cabinet door slung open and a rain of goldfish followed the shower of juice. The cracker boxed danced in mid air scattering the crunchy snacks about haphazardly.

Justin whimpered as his mother froze, she turned to him with a wide eyed expression of terror and he felt sick. He didn't know what to do, he hadn't meant for this to happen, he didn't know how to fix it. It seemed all he was ever good for was destruction and making both himself and his mom as unhappy as possible.

His mother took one hesitant step towards him and he couldn't hold back the misery any longer. He burst into tears, his whiny voice begging for comfort. "I'm sorry, mommy!" he wailed out with remorse. "I'm sorry!"

Her gray eyes softened from horror to sadness, rushing forward she picked him up, cradled him against her chest whispering reassuring words and soft endearments. She sat on the couch, holding him for a long while, pushing the shaggy black hair out of his face, singing to him as his arms clung around her neck.

The clock struck five; church bells rang out in the distance marking the time. His mother stiffened, her arms tightening around him as she looked at the mess that was their home. The refrigerator door was off its hinges. Grape juice was splattered everywhere speckling the walls and even reaching the carpet in the living room. Crackers were scattered and crushed, a liberal covering over the floor and furniture.

She got up abruptly, still holding him in her arms and rushed over to the closet. Justin tried to clutch onto her tighter as she wrenched him away from her body and shoved him into the dark little space. He gasped in terror as the door closed behind him blocking out all light. He was terrified of the dark; he couldn't even sleep without the Captain Jim Bob Sherwood nightlight she had gotten him. Now he was in a pitch black box-like little room and his mom had abandoned him to the monsters that thrived in these dark spaces. There was a soft snick, the sound of metal moving against metal. Reaching up he grabbed for the door knob, missed, reached out again but when he finally found it, it wouldn't turn. Feeling desperate he rattled the door knob screaming out to her. "I'm sorry! Mommy! I'm sorry! Please, let me out! I didn't mean too!" he begged, crouching down on the floor, sticking his little hand out from under the door.

She touched his hand, squeezed it softly, "I'm sorry too, baby! Just please be quiet! Be quiet and stay as still as possible until I let you back out." She was crying, her voice pleading with him to do this for her, so he did.

He was silent, holding back sniffles as they came. There was no sound in the apartment for the next fifteen minutes except for the soft scuffle of his mother shuffling around, trying to clean as fast as she could. Heavy foot steps came down the main hallway heading towards their door, the sound of them loud and ominous. Justin held his breath, his body tightening in fear. Daddy was home.

The thud of the door slamming open was followed by a curse. "Jesus Fucking Christ, Lisa! Look at this goddamned shit hole! What the hell did the little shit head do this time?" yelled an enraged Russell Denalli.

"He didn't do anything; he's been at a friend's house all day." The soft voice of Lisa Denalli answered back.

Russell snorted, his voice taking on the tone of some one insulted. "What do you think I am? A fucking retard! That little shit doesn't have any friends! I know he did this! Now, where the hell is he?" he asked again.

Lisa's voice quavered, "I told you, he's not here."

"How many times have I fucking told you, bitch? How many times have I told you not to fucking lie to me?"

Justin sat in the closet curled into a ball, hiding behind the heavy winter coats, tears streaming down his face, hands over his ears, but he couldn't block out the sounds coming through the thin door. His father yelled, his mother screamed. There were thuds and thumps and crashes. Then for a moment everything was quiet and he thought maybe everything was okay now. Maybe his mom would open the door and his dad would be passed out on the floor, like he often was but that didn't happen and the silence didn't last.

"Where are you, you little fucker?" his dad called out followed by the sound of a door slamming open. "Get your fucking ass out here!" another door slammed open.

He heard the steps coming closer, stopping in front of the closet door. The clack of metal as a door handle moved but would not turn came, then the thud of a fist hitting the door.

"There you are." the voice sounded evil and wholly pleased with itself.

Justin could hold back no longer, he cried and wailed, screamed out for his mommy as the door shook and splintered from his father beating against it.

"Mommy can't help you right now." his dad taunted him and slammed against the thin barrier one last time.

The door burst open, cracking down the side and there was his father, clothes stained, eyes blood shot, the ever present look of hatred carved across his features, and he was reaching for him.

Justin shot up in bed and strangled back the scream that wanted to spill from his lips. He was covered in sweat and the chill of the night air hit him, causing him to shiver. A figure sat up in bed next to him wrapping him in her arms and he nearly fell off the bed at the surprise.

"Alex?" he sighed in relief, recognizing the smell of her hair and the feel of her hug. He was so glad not to be alone after that horrible dream/memory that he didn't even question her presence. She calmed him, soothed his frazzled nerves as she stroked his hair and rubbed her cheek against his face.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He nodded, the dim light of his Captain Jim Bob Sherwood nightlight illuminating the gesture. "Yeah. It was just a bad dream." he told her.

"What was it about?" she questioned. "Was it really a dream or was it a memory coming back?"

Justin sighed. "I don't want to talk about it. I want to sleep." he told her. His body was still weak and tired form his sickness. He wrapped his arms around her as he lay back down, pulling her along with him, holding her as if she could anchor him to this world, this life, and keep all the bad memories away.

They lay next to each other, just listening to the sounds of their breathing. Justin relaxed and began to fall asleep again but Alex shifted against him trying to get comfortable. Her breasts pressed into his arm and her butt wriggled over his crotch. He was wide awake in an instant, his heart thumped, his groin tightened, and his breathing became slightly erratic. His body was suddenly so aware and his brain screamed out in confusion. "This is your sister!" and "This is not your sister!" both echoed through his head at top volume. He did it without even thinking, he shoved Alex away from him and fell out of the bed with a loud thud.

Alex jumped up from the mattress and turned on the reading lamp. "Justin, are you okay?" she called out with concern, moving towards him.

He stood up, backing away from her. He knew unequivocally, that if she touched him at this moment he would do something he would regret. "Stay away from me!" he yelled at her harshly.

Alex's eyes widened, hurt coursing through her. He must be dreaming! He must be confused! "Justin, it's me Alex… I'm your sister, you love me." she told him trying to calm him down.

Her words hit him, pummeled him. She wasn't his sister, not at all, and he couldn't love her because if he did, if he really let himself love her, she would be disgusted. He had to get out of here. "I don't… I don't love you." He denied, wincing at the pained look on her face. "And you're not my sister, not anymore." with those words out there was nothing left to do but run.

Author's Note: When I wrote chapter three of his story I was thinking it sucked big time. Sunday I read over this story with the thought of updating it in my head and was surprised because for whatever reason it seemed much better than I remembered. So here it is. Justin's home life got just slightly darker than I was planning on but not by much. I wanted to show that Justin's mom really did love him but just wasn't strong enough mentally to handle the situations before her. I don't know if i pulled that off or not. Thanks for reading! Have an awesome day!