Chapter 2

Michael's POV

I woke up to crying. Actually, it was half-screaming half-crying. I squinted at the clock by my bed and saw that it was 2:30 a.m. Eve woke up beside me, also looking at the time.

Before either of us could get up and find out what the screaming was about, Sam came running into our room, tearstains streaking down his cheeks. He threw himself onto our bed and immediately pulled the covers up over his eyes. I pulled them back enough to see the top of his head, and ruffled his hair.

"Hey, buddy," I said gently, "what's wrong?"

He sniffled and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. He moved close enough for me to put my arms around him and give him a hug.

"I had a bad dream. There were ghosty shadowy people and they didn't say anything and I couldn't get out but they kept coming and I don't know where they were coming from because there weren't any doors and they tried to get me," he cried, short breaths coming out making him pause between every other word.

Eve stroked his head and gave him a kiss.

"It's okay. You're safe. Mommy and daddy won't let anything hurt you," she whispered, soothingly.

We lay there with Sam, telling him everything was going to be okay and that there's no such thing as ghosts. Even though we knew better. Even though I'd been one. But neither one of us was about to blurt that out to our son. Eventually, he fell asleep, breathing steadily and snoring lightly, which made us both smile.

"Do you even understand how much he looks like you?" Eve whispered through the dark.

"Who wouldn't want to look like me?" I asked, cockily.

"You spend to much time with Shane," she replied, and when I gave her a questioning look, she continued, "you're developing what I like to call an SCE. A Shane Collins Ego."

That made me laugh.

"So, what do you make of this nightmare?" Eve asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's Morganville. I'm pretty sure there's someone who could make you dream certain things, like Myrnin, maybe. I mean they can make you think things and do things, so why not give you nightmares?"

"Eve, he's four. It's probably just that: a nightmare. All kids have them,"
"Yes, but do all kids have them about ghosty-shadowy things? I didn't and I knew the deep, dark secrets of Morganville from the day I was born,"

"Yeah, well it doesn't mean someone made him have that dream. I'm sure a lot of kids have nightmares about ghosts and shadows and stuff,"

She looked at me and I saw her expression soften a little.

"Yeah, I guess. I just get paranoid, you know? What with all the trouble we got into I just feel like there's someone constantly out to get us,"

"Hey," I said, grabbing her hand to hold, "there is almost certainly someone out to get us. But if they were out to get us, the chances are they'd be out to get Claire and Shane too. Hell, they probably caused more trouble than the two of us combined."

She laughed at that. A little.

"Michael, you're forgetting that we got married when you were a vampire. At least Shane and Claire kind of didn't have a town that hated them,"

"Shane and Claire hung around with us. They supported our marriage. Of course the whole town hated them,"

Eve sighed and looked down at Sam. He had small hints of red in his blonde hair, courtesy of his great-grandfather. And as much as Eve said he was the spitting image of me, you put him next to a picture of Sam (the vampire one) and it's like looking at the same person with a twenty-ish year age gap. It's the same with Carrie and Shane. Most people see her as a cloned 3-year-old girl version of Shane, but those who knew his sister, Alyssa, say she looks like her more than Shane.

I realised I was thinking about this to avoid thinking about the possibility of Eve being right, and someone having put that dream in Sam's head. I doubted it, but part of me kept telling myself that it's easy to brush off things that kids say as dreams or make-believe. Which would make it easy to plant the idea in peoples' heads without them becoming worried.

Maybe you're just paranoid. A small voice in the back of my head said. Maybe you're just so worried that all the trouble you lot got into as teenagers, even though most of it was saving this damned town's ass, will come back to haunt you that you're worried about shadows.

Paranoia. Great.

Time Skip

It had been a week and a half since Sam had first had that dream – nightmare – and he'd had a few since – 'a few' meaning at least one every other night. Eve and me hadn't been getting much sleep because we'd been waiting for the moment where he wakes up crying and we had to get up to calm him down. I was starting to think that my paranoia was less of me being paranoid, and more of Eve being smart. What if something was making Sam dream about these shadow things?

We were at Shane and Claire's place, with Sam passed out asleep on the floor. It was the first time he'd actually slept soundly for almost two weeks. Shane kept looking at me funny, and when I got up to get a drink I heard him follow me to the kitchen.

"Still not getting any sleep, huh?" he asked.

"Is it that obvious?" I replied, not really wanting to know the answer. He must have sensed that because he just raised an eyebrow at me.

"Look, if you want me and Claire to look after the kids for a night or two… or three the way you're looking, you know we will. Carrie would be over the moon,"

"As much as I appreciate the offer, and as much as you owe me, I don't think that would fix anything," he gave me another look.

"Okay, first, I owe you nothing. Second, we can deal with nightmares. We do have a child of our own," he said.

"Dude you made me come do your laundry the other day because you couldn't figure out which colours you should put in with each other! And as good as it felt to one-up you, laundry is not manly,"

"Hey, we agreed to never talk about that again. Especially when Claire and or Eve are in the house,"

"You still owe me."

He glared at me before shaking it off.

"Look, Shane, I have a… worrying feeling that someone is, you know, making Sam have these nightmares,"

Shane looked at me like I was crazy.
"You really think someone would – could do that?"

"I'm pretty sure something can. Myrnin?"

Shane looked thrown for a second.

"Why would Myrnin waste time giving people nightmares? Besides, I'm pretty sure Claire would know something if he was,"

It was my turn to look thrown. I hadn't thought of that. I just shook my head, ending the conversation. I didn't want to put the stress of nightmares and no sleep on Claire and Shane's backs if I didn't have to, so I didn't bring up the idea of Sam and Ellie staying here for a few days again.

Shane's POV

I couldn't stop thinking about what Michael had told me earlier. About someone making people dream certain things. I mean, sure vampires could make people think and do things, that was a well-known fact, but dreaming? It seemed a little… out there, even for vampires. I shut the thought out and tried to get some sleep. I might have actually succeeded if Carrie hadn't woken up crying.

I went into her room carefully, so no to scare her or anything. She was sat up in bed staring at the corner of her bedroom, tears running down her cheeks. I turned the light on and she hid under the covers. I walked over and perched on the edge of her bed.

"Carrie?" I asked, and reached out to pull the covers back. She poked a hand out for me to hold, so I did. She was shaking and still crying. "Hey, Carebear. What's the matter?"

She was still crying, and she didn't answer, but after peeking above the covers and looking at me, she pulled them right back and crawled into my lap, holding my arm like she'd never let go. I held her there, rocking her back and forth gently, stroking her hair. Claire walked in looking half asleep, but concerned. She woke up immediately and her face softened when she saw the state Carrie was in.

She came over and joined us, sitting on the bed rubbing Carrie's back, talking in a low voice trying to soothe her. Carrie cried for about five more minutes before the sobs turned into hiccups. She sat back a bit, but still clung to my arm. She sniffled and looked up at us. We both smiled down at her, silently letting her know everything was okay. She tried a small smile back.

"What made my little girl cry like that?" I asked. She did a kind of half-hiccup half-sniffle and smiled a little.

"Seriously, who's butt am I kicking?"

That got a proper smile out of her, but it quickly turned into a frown.

"Daddy, it's not nice to kick peoples' butts," she said with a shaky voice.

"It's also not nice for people to make you cry," I replied. I saw a flash of confusion on her face, but it disappeared quickly. Claire was still rubbing her back.

"I had a bad dream," she said, the frown returning. She was a lot like me; she hated being made to look weak, and nightmares really annoyed her because of this. So did crying.

"What happened, honey?" Claire asked her. Carrie went on to tell us a familiar-sounding dream. One Sam had been having for a couple of weeks. I saw Claire looking at me with her worried face on that I'd seen all too often since I met her all those years ago. I tried for a smile, but I'm pretty sure it came out twisted and more like a grimace than a smile.

Carrie had a stuffed bunny in her hand that looked like it had suffered a lot more than three years of being thrown, chewed and dropped in driveways and on parking lots. I'm pretty sure it had been the subject of a few tug-of-war games too. She was still hiccupping a little, and her cheeks were still wet with tears, but she'd calmed down.

Claire went downstairs to get her a drink, while I tucked her back into bed. Or I tried to tuck her back into bed, but she wasn't having it. She started to kick back the covers and I could see she was on the verge of tears again. In the end I picked her up and carried her into Claire's and my room, and sat her down on the bed. I picked up the Three Little Pigs book she'd left from a few weeks ago, and sat down next to her to read it.

She couldn't read yet, not very well anyway. She could pick out a few words (mostly names that she saw pop up on my phone, or Claire's phone regularly like Eve or Michael) but she couldn't read a book to us yet. Sometimes she liked to make up the story using the pictures, but tonight she just snuggled into my side hugged the life out of her stuffed bunny. I sat there and let her look at the pictures while I read the story to her.

Claire came back in with Carrie's drink just after I sat down. I decided I'd let Claire read to Carrie tonight (again) because my voice was going. I'm a swim coach for the high school team and you have to talk almost at a shouting level in the Morganville Community Pool or you can't hear anything. I also liked to watch Claire and Carrie together; they were too smart for each other and it could be funny. As much as I didn't want her to grow up, part of me couldn't wait to see what it was like between Carrie and her mom when she was older and smarter.

Carrie fell asleep about halfway through making Claire read the book for the third time, curled up at Claire's side. Her cheeks were still a bit red from when she'd been crying.

Claire knew about the nightmares Sam had been having, and I saw the shock in her face when Carrie had told us about hers.

"Shane?" she asked, quietly, almost like she didn't really know if she wanted me to hear it or not. I looked up at her and tried not to let it show that I was more than a little bit freaked out.

"It's just a dream. We're Neutrals in this town, Claire. Nothing can hurt her," I said, although we both know that was wishful thinking. Claire and I may be Neutrals, and that may sort of extend to Carrie as Protection, but we could still be hurt. There would just be 'more severe consequences' for the person who hurt us. I didn't really believe that last part though. Not if it was a vampire, anyway.

"I don't think it's anything like vampires. It doesn't seem like something a vampire would do," Claire said, as if she was reading my mind.

I reached out to hold her hand. Hers was cold and shaking a little. I tried to smile at her to reassure her that it was going to be okay. It was a lot easier to make her believe that before we had Carrie.

"It's going to be okay," I said it anyway. I was trying to convince myself just as much I was Claire, "she's a kid. It's just a bad dream."

She nodded and sighed in defeat but didn't look majorly convinced. I didn't blame her to be honest.

"God, of course it's just a dream. I had nightmares about weird things when I was a kid and I'm not from Morganville," she shook her head and got up to turn out the light, not bothering to take Carrie back to her own bed. Claire gets a little over-protective when Carrie wakes up crying at night, and she almost always sleeps with us after she's had nightmares. It's a habit we need to break, but hey, can't blame us for wanting her to feel safe.

It's just a dream, Shane. I told myself. She's fine. Sam's fine. It's all going to be fine.

I really hoped I was right, but being in Morganville, it seemed a lot more logical to doubt myself, especially on this.

One day, I thought, I'll get Claire and Carrie out of here for good. We won't ever have to think about this place again.

I hoped to God I could get them out one day, but I knew the reality of living in Morganville with so many ties and so many important links to vampires.

I turned the TV on and stared at the flashing colours until I fell into a deep, dark sleep that was vampire/ghost/shadow/anything-else-that-could-hurt-us free. It was almost peaceful.