Hey, look at that, new update time. Your reviews are much welcomed and very much appreciated. It's late and this is quite hot off the presses, I was too excited about it to save it. I hope you like. . .

Nightmare

She's four and little, and having quite a bit of trouble sleeping.

Sometimes evil night-things slipped into Evie's dreams, lingering, moaning, whistling like the wind, only to fade away. When the night-things came, Evie liked to hop out of her bed and go sleep by her mother's side with her favorite stuffed white rabbit in hand. "Mamone" she called it. Mamone was daisy-petal white, with floppy ears and limbs and a round pink tummy. When they slept together, Mamone's plush, white cheeks would rub softly against her own.

She snuck into her parents room. It was rather dark, but her feet knew the way. Evie made gentle steps to the right side of the bed where her Mom slept, but Mellie wasn't there, and neither was Fitz.

She padded downstairs, dragging her plaything along the hallway. Rounding the corner, she noticed a warm yellow light coming from the kitchen and thought she heard her mother's voice. She merely peaked in so as to not be seen as Mellie and Fitz whispered harshly at each other.

"You need to step up. I have done everything, everything. I did it for them. I am not the monster here. I'm not the villain. It's you. You're the one my daughter's afraid of. It's you. She doesn't even know who you are because you make out like you hate her. Like you can barely stand the sight of her. Our baby doesn't deserve to be treated like, like-"

"Let's get something straight, here, Mellie. That is my daughter up there. That is my daughter. Don't you dare suggest that I don't love her. I do"

"What good is a love she doesn't understand? She's four years old. All she knows is the distance you keep from her." After a beat, her mother's eyes found her.

They were having a conversation that Evie didn't understand, that she didn't hear right. In years to come she would close her eyes and think back to this night, among many. And like pieces of a puzzle they would come to be together.

Evie would think of this: Two tall shadows hissing at each other in a pale kitchen-light. Two strangers talking about a thing Evie hadn't yet come to know, to understand. Finding a soft, cold pile of sheets in a bed where her Mellie should be.

Evie would hear this: Tiny feet padding down a hardwood floor.

Evie would taste this: Salty water running down sobbing red cheeks.

Evie would know this: Everything she wanted for- something called truth- was shrouded in this moment that she hadn't yet come to know, to understand.

Mellie glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw her daughter cowering in the corner, her two little puff-balls poking out lopsided on her head. Mellie and Fitz both exchanged guilty looks before Fitz sighed and looked away defeated.

"Evie, what are you doing up, sweetheart?"

"I couldn't sleep." she rubbed her hazy eyes. "Mamone couldn't sleep either."

"Well," she said, "Why don't you let your Daddy take you upstairs, back to bed?"

"Mellie, no." Fitz pleaded.

"Try, Fitzgerald. Your daughter had a nightmare, and you are going to try." Mellie insisted.

Evie could only watch. A sickness settled in her stomach, like when she did something wrong.

"No."

"Why?"

"I just can't."

"Why not? Try, Fitz. Please! Please, she needs you." Mellie repeated, becoming hysterical.

"I can't fucking do it! Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? I can't fucking hold her. I don't want to!" Fitz shouted. His voice was a terrifying hybrid of a man enraged and a dog on his last leg, dissipating in the middle of a dirt road.

When Evelyn Grant did cry, the sound could have pierced a grown man's heart. Her little caramel face burned red and her big brown eyes fell dark with sadness. And she wailed a sorrowful little wail.

And Mamone fell to the floor, abandoned.

Fitz rushed to crouch down and pick Evie up, but his daughter slapped him away. "No!" she yelled through her tears. Daddy's mean, she told herself, and the thought nearly broke Evie four in half.

He turned back to look at his wife, who was so distraught, she couldn't even see straight. He drew closer to her, holding out his palms for her to reach for. But she only beat her petite fists onto his chests as she cried. "No!" she moaned, over and over again. She didn't understand what was happening. She was a child, blinded by fear and sadness.

"Are you proud of yourself? Are you proud of what you've done?" Mellie criticized darkly or maybe that was his own guilt, whispering in his ear in that moment. Telling him that he was a cold, heartless father and a shadow of a man.

He only crouched down on the floor with her, taking her punches. He felt more worthless and defeated with every one. A small tear slipped from his eye, and he hung his head so Evie wouldn't see it. "Please, Evie." he said hoarsely. "You're making Daddy so sad when you cry like that. I'm sorry."

When his eyes grew ten times bigger and bluer with desperation, Evie looked at him finally, crying still. He He pulled her in for an embrace so tight Fitzgerald could hardly breathe. Then he lifted her up, her arms fell around his broad shoulders and her legs wrapped around his torso.

A wave of relief swept over him, and in that moment he was braver than he had ever been. In that moment he had the courage to hold his child in his arms and love her in a way that she deserved.

"Tell Mommy goodnight." he requested, turning away.

"G'night, Mama." she repeated softly.

Mellie saw the little stuffed bunny on the floor and hurried to pick it up. She kissed it, and put Mamone to Evie's cheek before handing it to her daughter. "Goodnight, my sweet girl."

A/N: Mamone - pronounced like "Simone"

Questions? Comments? Are you bawling yet, or are you mad? I'll never know unless you review. . .