#knifecorp

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the pressure of large hands against your hips and lips pressed to the back of your skull.

"Smells good, sweetheart." You relaxed back into the touch even as the hair on your neck stood. Conflicting sensations that just made your head hurt. There wasn't any sense to it.

"Well, it is your favorite." The amused sound reverberated in his chest and was a pleasant rumble against your back. Comfort. Not unease. Angus would never be the cause of such emotions. He had always been your protector. The safe space in which to hide away from the world and all of the worries and evils.

"Are you okay?" He shifted to the side, hands still against you but now ensuring he could see your face. You smiled, trying to ease whatever worry that there. It had been that way since the accident. Angus was constantly vigilante over both you and your daughter, worried that you could be taken from him. Unfortunately, it wasn't a fear that you could easily assuage, no matter what you offered. There was no one in the world that could make a promise that they wouldn't fall ill or be on the unfortunate end of an accident. You could still remember how it has felt, waking in bed and being bandaged almost to the point of being unable to move.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just a little bit of a headache." The calloused fingers that brushed over your cheek had your eyes closing, but the sense of dread deepened.

"It looks just about done. I know it's gotta simmer from here. Why don't you go take a nap?" He was right. The last bit could be handled. Likely, the feelings and the headache were from the stress of everything. It was silly and you needed to calm yourself down. Leaning over, you pressed a kiss to Angus's cheek.

"Thank you. You are the best." Another laugh and his fingers lingered against your cheek for a second longer.

"Remember that if I let it burn." A teasing joke was the last thing to send you off. Feeling lighter, you headed to your bedroom to take a small nap and see if it helped your head. Your head had barely hit the pillow before you were out, lulled into sleep by the soft music and the discomfort in your head.

****************

A warm breeze. The kiss of the sun upon your skin. The laughter of a child in the background. You were aware of everything and nothing all at once behind the darkness of your closed lids. The gentle rise and fall of the chest below your head was the only thing bringing movement.

"You're going to have to get up eventually." You hummed in response.

"Don't ruin my zen Charlie." There was a light tug of your hair before the pleasing sensation of blunt nails pressed to your scalp.

"Oh, forgive me. I didn't even know you knew the meaning of the word zen." You blindly smacked at the man that you were laying across with a laugh.

"Whatever, asshole." Spending the day at the park was just what was needed after the long week that the both of you had. If it could have gone wrong, it went wrong. From alarms not going off to projects being turned in late to breaking your favorite coffee mug that you had in your possession for years. Charlie continued to run his fingers through your hair, making you forget all about how rough the week had been. These were the soft moments that anyone and everyone lived for when it came to spending time with loved ones.

"So, I've been thinking…."

"Oh, dangerous pass time. Is that why I'm smelling bacon?"

"Now who is being the asshole," he offered with a mocking exclamation. You opened your eyes finally, looking up to the sky for several long seconds before turning your head so Charlie's face was semi-visible to you.

"I'm sorry. Continue. You've been thinking." The curve of the smile was just barely visible to you. The smile that had first caught your attention, the smile that looked so natural on his face, the smile that lit up everything.

"Why don't we take a vacation? Hmm? Go somewhere, anywhere, far away. Just get away from all the responsibilities and things that are weighing us down. Enjoy time together, like we are meant to without the hustle of work, deadlines, overtime." The two of you had talked but there had always been something getting in the way or generally preventing you from just up and going where you wanted. Having a kid, demands of the job, sick family. You name it and it had popped up. Charlie sounded so confident and spoke with the conviction of a man who was going to do just as he had said.

"It sounds perfect. But…"

"No, no buts. We are going to do it. Leave everything up to me all right?" You hesitated for a second, envisioning everything that could go wrong than all the enjoyment that could come from it. He lifted his head and looked down at you, waiting for the answer.

"All right." The confirmation of agreement sealed the deal.

*****************

The rain poured from the heavens, as if every cloud overhead had been wrought out right onto the very road that you were driving along. It was the sort of heavy rain that the wipers simply could not keep up with and that you were better off pulling off to the side of the road than continuing onward. As sound of an idea as that was, Charlie was determined to continue onward. You understood why. It was the last leg to your vacation and you had all been pretty excited to get to the cabin and enjoy a little time beside the gorgeous lake. However, if you didn't get there in one piece, was it really worth it?

"I think that maybe we should pull over. Try to wait it out a bit." Charlie was leaned forward in the driver seat as if that would help him see better. Not a chance.

"No, it's okay. I got this." You glanced back towards your daughter. She was buckled in tightly and sound asleep. The storm hardly caused her any problems and for that you were grateful. It made your own anxiety lessen that she couldn't be concerned over anything.

"We can't see two feet ahead of us, let alone if there is a car or an accident or something…"

"I got it. We are going to be fine. Just sit back and read or something, okay. We will be there in no time. Trust me." This went beyond a simple factor of trust. Trust came with things like cooking dinner, fixing the sink, getting your daughter to school on time, picking up a birthday cake. Being superhuman and seeing through a deluge was not a matter of trust. But, you know that you were not going to be able to convince him otherwise when he was so damn focused. So, you sat back and chewed silently at your thumb in an attempt to not cause an argument because you said something again.

He had slowed down at least, you could feel the way that the car decelerated as you ended up on a rather windy road. If you were nervous before, it was nothing compared to the way that your stomach rolled and your palms were sweating now. There was temptation to say something again. Now though, you were worried about distracting him too much and causing the accident instead of the poor weather conditions.

You chewed on your thumbnail, desperately fighting back the urge to speak, keeping as still and quiet as possible. Reading wasn't going to happen. You felt like if you took your eyes off of the road, you would end up off of it.

It was impossible to miss the muttered curse that came from Charlie or feel the way that the car slid on the turn. He corrected it and managed to keep the car under control. If it didn't happen again, maybe you would be okay. The thought came too soon. As the next turn was sharper, he wasn't able to correct the wheel in time. Even with the low speed, you were sent careening into a tree.

The impact jolted you both hard, with your head banging against the glass of the window. Almost immediately, pain exploded out from your temple. The only thought that occupied your mind though was checking on your daughter. The pain you were experiencing could be cataloged and dealt with later.

It took more effort than it should have to twist your torso and look into the backseat. There, scared but seemingly unharmed, sat your daughter, clutching her stuffed bear. Relief was instantaneous. It felt like you could breath again as air filled your once compressed lungs and your heart started to beat once more.

"It's okay sweetie." The sickly taste of copper entered your senses, coupled with the side of your face feeling sticky. Great. The car surely couldn't be driven. Reaching back, you gave your daughter's leg a small squeeze and offered as much of a smile as you could. "We are okay and it's all going to be okay." Charlie groaned beside you and leaned forward.

"Shit…" The sentiment was echoed. You had no idea what you were supposed to do. One thing was for sure. You couldn't sit here and do nothing.

"Are you okay?" You reached out to touch Charlie's shoulder and he hissed in pain.

"No. I think my legs pinned." His leg was pinned? Oh, this was really not good.

"Stop moving," you pleaded and tried to lean over to see. It looked like the door was crushed in, leaving his leg trapped. Of all the times you had decided to leave your phones at home. "Okay. You just need to stay calm." For the sake of all of you. If he started freaking out, so would the little one in the back seat.

There was only one solution. Even if it wasn't a particularly good one.

"I'll have to walk and find the closest house. See if they are able to get us any help."

"That's not a good idea."

"Neither is sitting here and waiting for someone to come along. You need help, Charlie." You shouldn't be the one walking in the rain but there was not another choice. You grabbed your coat from the backseat. "I'll be back as quick as I can. Just stay right here." A comment to them both. Would it do any good? Charlie couldn't move so, hopefully he could keep everyone calm and collected while you braved the elements.

It was worse to experience pounding down against your shoulders than it had been in the car. You squinted against the wind, seeing only a few feet in front of you. The road was just off to your left as you walked next to it, hoping to avoid getting hit if there was any cars coming through.

Ten minutes felt like ten years. You were freezing and held your arms close to your body to try and retain some heat. How was it that cold when it was summer? Just went you felt like crying, the sight of a light ahead caught your attention.

"Thank god." Moving as quickly as you dared, you scurried towards it and the house that started to materialize around through the wind and rain.

A small, rustic but cozy looking older home. Like one of those ones you would see in reenactment towns. Reprieve from the rain was granted as you carefully made you way up the steps and onto the covered porch. There was no way to stop the shivering as you knocking on the door, hoping that someone was home.

It took a few minutes and just as you had lost hope that anyone was there, the door creaked open.

"Listen, I'm not…." The man behind the door paused in whatever he was about to say, his brow furrowing as he took you in.

"Hi. I'm really sorry to bother you. We had a crash about ten minutes down the road. My boyfriend has his legs pinned and my daughter is still in the car with him. We had no phones.Are you able to call for help?" The screen door swung open and he motioned for you to step in. This virtual stranger could have had intentions but you were in no position to make judgement of such things. Your head was killing you and the help was so desperately needed.

"You look like you're about to fall over." His voice had softened significantly from the tone he had used when he opened the door. You were beyond grateful to be fully out of the wind and the rain. Even so, you were mindful of your presence in the home. Left sopping and dripping wet from the downpour, the last thing you wanted to do it destroy anything. "You hit your head?" Calloused fingers gently lifted your chin before pressing to your cheek so you turned your head.

"Yeah. Against the window."

"It looks nasty. Come on, let's get you sitting down and then I'll head out." He lead you towards the couch, feet shuffling across the floor and by the time you blinked, you were sitting on the couch, a towel wrapped around your shoulders and a small one to hold to your head. There was some vague notion that you had exchanged names. Angus. It stood out.

He had donned a jacket and was talking with someone on the phone. You weren't sure who, unable to completely overhear his conversation. Another shiver wracked your entire frame. Worry ate at your gut, thoughts all centered around your daughter.

"I'll be back in a little bit. You just stay right there and keep pressure against your head. Everything's going to be all right." You had to trust him. The pain was getting worse and now you were dizzy. There wasn't a chance you could make it back to the car yourself.

"Okay." He smiled and headed out the door.

You had lost track of time, zoning in and out, doing your best not to fall asleep. The sound of the door opening was enough to jar you from the semi catatonic state and you had to peel yourself from the couch. Only Angus stood there, shivering himself now that he was soaked to the bone. Carried in his arms was a small form, covered entirely by the jacket he had given up. Your daughter was safe and you immediately moved forward to gather her from his arms.

"It's okay," you reassured her as she clung to you. Charlie was still missing. He hadn't been able to move, too pinned in so it didn't come as a surprise.

"Here, let's get you settled in front of the fire. Okay? She needs to warm up and you need to be off of your feet."

"How's Charlie?" Your daughter clung tightly to you, her little arms around your neck. You held her back almost as tightly, the entire incident shaking you up. Angus gave you a gently nudge towards the couch once more, urging you to take a seat close to the fire.

"Someone's gonna come by and help him. I have it all arranged. You don't need to be worrying about anything right now. Just sit." You didn't need to be told twice. Being on your feet was making you a little woozy, stomach churning with the threat of emptying right there onto his living room floor. The comfort of the couch helped ease those feelings, no longer standing or trying to focus too hard on anything also helping. Heavy footsteps once more echoed, fading into the background. The cackling of the fire combined with the battering of the rain against the windows was a lulling, relaxing sound that threatened to fully take you away from consciousness. The only thing that didn't was the feeling of a heavy blanket being draped over you. Angus softly encouraged your daughter to take a stuffed bear that had appeared out of nowhere. It looked a little worn. Did he have kids? The thought lingered on the edge of your hazy mind. A low gentle hum entered your ear, pushing you further into sleep. A calloused finger swiped over your forehead before multiple pushed through your hair. Was it real? You couldn't tell if it was a phantom touch or genuine as you drifted off.

**************

The time seemed to blur together. It had been two days at the most. Two days since you had arrived at the house. Only a day since the devastating news had been delivered. Charlie was dead. He had bled out from being pinned, his leg trapped and cut into thanks to the twisted metal.

It was a shock to the system, leaving you numb. Angus had been apologetic as he had delivered the news. He hadn't been available to take you to the hospital when you had asked, meaning you hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye.

Left stranded in a state that wasn't your home, without a car, without a phone, without any real means in that moment to handle the devastation that had been unexpected. You weren't sure where to even begin. It had been hard, your mind hazy at best since you had arrived. Trauma did that. A fact that you were aware of somewhere in the back of your mind but were utterly incapable of processing or using. You went through the motions as best as you could. Angus was mindful and considerate. More than you had any really right to experience and something that you were far more thankful of than you could put into words. He was there allowing you to have your breakdowns, hidden away from your daughter. He was there to make sure that you were both fed and had a place to keep a roof over your head. He was there to try and keep you from completely falling apart and keeping your daughter distracted enough that she didn't question it.

Sitting at the table, you smiled your best for your daughter as you both ate breakfast. Angus was propped against the counter, sipping coffee. A silent watcher. It hardly mattered that he seemed a constant presence. If anything, it was comforting albeit it slightly suffocating.

"You gotta finish up, sweetheart. The weathers finally nice, so we are going to go out to the park." She perked up a little more, looking back and forth between you and Angus. A smile lit up her face.

"Really?" You nodded and finally, a small laugh came from you as she let out a little squeal, all excited over the prospect. It felt good to laugh, even if it was small. A tiny release of some of that pressure in your chest.

"Yeah. Thought you might be getting a little cooped up in the house, going crazy." Clearly, he made a face as your daughter laughed, grinning as she looked at the man. Looking down, you swallowed down the rising guilt that threatened to ruin the soft moment that was so desperately needed. Before your mind could travel too far, there was a warm, strong hand on your shoulder. Angus stood behind you, giving it a squeeze. His smile was soft, knowing. It was enough of a grounding that you were able to take a breath and shake it off.

"We'll even see about getting ice cream." She cheered at that and it made it a little easier. "But, you have to finish up your breakfast first. Okay?" The answer was a nod and a quick movement to finish up what was on her plate. Angus remained there, landing you a silent strength and support. You weren't sure if you would have made it through without having that support.

With everyone finished up and the small mess had been cleaned, Angus helped you get the little one into his car. The actions were familiar and yet so incredibly different. Enough so that your chest tightened once again, the weight of the emotion staggering, robbing your lungs of air and momentarily locking up all your muscles.

"Hey, it's okay. Breathe." A hand against the small of your back in a light touch and the gentle voice in your ear was enough to begin pulling you back to the surface. Pushing out a heavy breath, you nodded slowly. "That's it. Everything's okay. Just keep breathing. In and out." Eventually, as you followed the over exaggerated way he was breathing, you calmed down. What could have been a crippling moment passed far more quickly than it would have without Angus. Once again, a rush of gratitude for the man washed over you.

Not thinking anything of the way that he was free and almost too forward in the way that he touched you, you were simply happy that he was providing support in the time it was needed the most. Doing all of this on your own would have been far too much. He opened the car door for you and you slid in without a thought.

The drive was fairly quiet, but as you settled onto a bench,the weight of everything came rushing back over you. You had to be strong. For her if nothing else.

"Thank you, Angus," you murmured to the man next to you, both of your eyes following your daughter as she played on the playground. "I don't know if I would be able to keep it together without your help."

"You would have done it. If for nothing else than for her." He echoed the very thoughts you had just had. A reinforcement and the vote of confidence that you needed in order to not feel like everything was falling apart. Even if it was. "It's a lot. No one is saying that it isn't." How you could have been so lucky to find someone as kind and generous as Angus during such a horrendous time of your life was a miracle. The sort that you didn't question and ran with in order to keep moving forward. His steady presence was not only helping you but keeping your daughter on track. Thankfully. The trauma was bad enough for you to deal with but you wanted to try and make sure that she didn't suffer from it too much. There would come an understanding of death, that much was unavoidable. But, right now, it was better to keep her as sheltered as possible.

"Does it get any easier?" You knew that he had lost his wife. That much had become evident over the few days that you had stayed with him. That had not been the most tactful way of asking the question but you were desperate to hear something positive, something realistic outside of it would be okay.

"Yes and no…." It was honest and you were thankful for that as you turned your attention fully to Angus for a moment. "The loss doesn't leave you. The pain doesn't leave. But it lessens a bit." That was enough of a light at the end of the tunnel for the tightness in your chest to ease just slightly, a small increment enough for it to be noticeable as you took a deep breath. Those hands that felt like they were wrapped around your neck lightened.

"Thank you for being honest." He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and while it didn't feel exactly comfortable, in that moment you weren't willing to push it away either. The touch of another was grounding.

**************

Today was supposed to be the day that you were heading back home. You had lingered and suffered through the worst of the first week of the loss with Angus at his home. He had been gracious and more than generous in what he had given you and your daughter. However, you couldn't hide away forever. You had a job that you had to get back to and life didn't stop just because your world had come crashing down around you.

As the haze of sleep began to fade, you went to shift and roll closer to the edge of the bed, only to find that you weren't able to roll entirely. Something heavy was locked around your ankle, keeping you from shifting your entire body enough. Frowning, you reached for the blankets and yanked them back. What you were seeing was something that your brain struggled to comprehend. The heavy steel that encompassed your ankle was linked to a chain. The chain itself was bolted into the wall on the side of the bed. Panic was quickly rising, clawing at your throat, robbing you of your breath. You couldn't get enough oxygen into your lungs to let out a scream. Reaching down, your fingers wrapped around the metal and found that there was no way that it could be pulled apart. Chained to the bed. You were chained to the bed. Nothing about it made sense and you pulled at the chain to see if you could loosen it from the wall. Each attempt was made in vain, the metal not showing any signs of weakness. Nothing about it made sense.

Before you were able to shout, the door to your room opened. Angus stepped in, carrying a small tray that seemed to hold some breakfast. He didn't bat an eyelash at your situation. He had done this?

"Brought you some breakfast," he started.

"Angus, what is going on?"

"And some tea the way that you like it." He completely ignored your question and settled the tray in your lap. "Go on, eat up before it gets cold." Your head hurt and you couldn't bring yourself to reach for the food. You could only stare at the man, desperation clawing deeply in your chest. Where was your daughter? Was she safe? Panic, worse than before started to build. Your head felt fuzzy at best and vision clouded ever so slightly.

"Angus….I need you to tell me what's going on." Your voice was barely above a whisper, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. "Where is she?"

"Are you worried about Belle? She's fine. She is still sleeping." Belle? That was the name of his dead daughter. It made no sense. Instead of answering anything else, or freeing you from your shackles, he pushed the tray of food closer. "Come on now. You know you'll head up with a headache if you don't eat and have your tea." Your stomach rolled, bile rising and stinging your throat. Eating was not something that you would be able to do right then. How could you possibly do so when your life was turning upside down once more. The kind, welcoming man that you had thought had been the bright point was quickly becoming the biggest source of terror. It was a stuttering, shaking movement that came when you shook your head no. His brow furrowed and the frown deepened, creating an almost scowl that would have sent you running for the hills if you were capable of movement. He knelt beside the bed and reached out. You weren't able to put any distance between you as his large palm pressed to your cheek. Breath held, you waited for it to slip down to your neck, squeezing the life out of you.

"Brenda, sweetheart, I know you aren't feeling well." The name of his dead wife. That was what he was calling you. You blinked away the tears the best that you could but they began falling. He thought that you were his dead wife and your daughter was his? That was what this was? You had to get out of here, had to get free. "But you don't have to worry about a thing. I have it all taken care of, so you just have to worry about relaxing so that you can feel better. Okay?" What were you supposed to say to any of that. Nothing had seemed to pierce through whatever fantasy that he had found himself caught up in. You were stuck. Another shaky movement, a nod this time as your voice once again failed you.

You closed your eyes and tried your best not to flinch as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead, the soft movement such a contrast from the current predicament that you found yourself in. He hadn't made any move to hurt you yet. He stepped back and left the room, the door closing sounding like thunder to your ears.

There wasn't a chance that you would be able to touch the food. Not only due to the nausea that ruled everything but there was a paranoid part of you that was beginning to wonder if he drugged the food. How could you have been asleep so deeply that you hadn't felt yourself being chained to the bed. Burying your face in your hands, you could do nothing but cry. Sheer terror, grief, and exhaustion had all mixed into an overwhelming crashing wave of emotions. What were you supposed to do? There was a delusional man holding you and your daughter hostage. No one knew where you were. No one had any idea that you had been staying with Angus. Everything suddenly felt far more hopeless than it had when you had learned that Charlie had died.

**********

It had been days of the same. Days of being chained to the bed or practically carried to the bathroom by Angus. There was no other movement allowed. Like he knew that you weren't Brenda and couldn't be trusted, yet he continued to refer to you by the name of his dead wife. You hadn't seen your daughter that entire time, but you could hear him through the door, explaining that you were sick and you didn't want to get her sick. To your growing horror, she seemed to believe him and didn't question anything that was said. The attachment was there. Screaming and calling out would only serve to frighten her but it was beginning to become the only option that you might have.

You played along the best that you could, not wanting to anger the man and seeing that he seemed contented when you responded positively. It was still hard to eat. Still hard to not flinch under his touch. The desperation that you felt was the only thing that overrode everything else, stemming from a survival instinct. It hadn't seemed to do anything in terms of gaining more trust.

You needed just a few seconds of freedom. Just enough time to be able to have some separation. There were plenty of weapons laying around. Really, every item that was in the house could have been used as a weapon. Incapacitating Angus was what you were looking to do. Long enough to be able to grab your daughter and flee the house. Each and every time you were away from the bed you were looking for it. But, as the days ticked by, you realized that it may never come. You might have to make the moment for yourself. How to do that? It was still unclear.

This was nothing that you were prepared or equipped to handle. Nothing in your life had set you up to figure your way out of the situation. And as the time continued to tick by, that desperation was turning into despair. Despair and a growing horror that you were never going to escape. Each and every movement that didn't present a chance only dulled you further. Angus seemed entirely oblivious to the fact, only continuing to behave as if you were ill rather than held against your will. He continued to act like you were his wife and a willing participant of daily life. Food was brought to your bed, along with a cup of tea. He chatted about your daughter as if she was his own.

What really freaked you out? The fact that the touches were becoming more frequent and far less restrained. His hands trailed along your arms, along your back, against your sides far more freely. There was nothing gentle or soothing about it as there had been when you had first arrived. His lips often found your cheek, your shoulder, occasionally your neck. And there was nothing that you could do about that. As much as you shied away, he was entirely caught up in whatever he was living and seeing. He didn't notice the fact that each touch, each seemingly soft intended action was just causing more fear to build up. He didn't blink as you flinched under the touch of his lips. It only caused that sense of despair to grow. He genuinely thought that you were his wife and were unwell, trying to nurse you back to heal in this twisted sense of care. Those were the times that his grip seemed to tighten, to the point of leaving behind bruises. A contrast to what he thought was gentle care.

You needed to escape. But would you ever?

The opportunity came entirely unexpectedly and caused your heart to leap into your throat. Angus had pulled you to the bathroom for a shower, standing guard on the toliet, giving you no privacy as you cleaned yourself. The sounds of your daughter crying out caught both of your attention. Angus spared one glance towards you before racing off to see what had caused the sound. This was it. This was your chance. Adrenaline flooded your system, causing you to hesitate. As if you couldn't believe that the moment had finally presented itself. Could you do this?

Then, you were moving in a flurry of activity. Clothes hastily pulled on, you were scrambling through the bathroom to grab something that you would be able to use against the man. There wasn't much and you found yourself pulling down the bar that held up the shower curtain. Panting heavily, you raced out of the bathroom before coming to a sudden stop. The house was quiet around you. There were no more sounds coming from your daughter. Where were they? You had to find them in order to get out of here. You couldn't leave your daughter behind.

"Brenda, what are you doing?" You hadn't made it ten feet down the hallway before Angus was standing there. Shaking, you held the bar tightly and lifted it, ready to swing and attempt to defend yourself. "Sweetheart, come on. Put that bar down. We will get you back to the bed." He stepped closer. All you could really hear was the thrumming of your head and the rush of blood by your ears. Throat dry, hands shaking, and unsure if this was really going to work, you had no other option. Once he was close enough, you swung. Hard. The bar cracked across his temple and he let out a yelp of pain. This was it. That was your true chance.

Dropping the curtain bar, you took off sprinting. Where was your daughter? Each door was slammed open but you didn't see her. She hadn't sounded that far off when she had cried out. She had to be somewhere close and not elsewhere in the house. If she was somewhere else, it was going to give Angus time to catch up to you.Frantic movements had you stumbling over your own feet as tears began to form once more.

In the panic, you didn't notice that Angus hadn't actually gone down. He caught up to you quickly, just as you were ready to all but jump down the stairs. A tight grip on your wrist had you crying out.

"That's enough!" That was the harshest that you had ever heard his voice. Looking to you, you noticed some blood seeping from his hair line. The blow had done damage. Something that you would have been proud of if you weren't entirely freaked out by the fact that he was up and had grabbed a hold of you. You couldn't go back to the bedroom. You couldn't allow yourself to be chained again. This was the time to fight.

Flailing, you smacked and punched at him. throwing your weight around in an attempt to break free from the hold. Against a mountain of a man like Angus, it was a fruitless endeavor but that didn't stop you from making the attempt. Just as he went to yank you close, you managed to kick out and hit his knee. There was a crunch and another yelp of pain that left him. It caused him to release his grip but also caused you to lose your balance, tumbling down the stairs backwards. Pain wracked every portion of your body before your world went black.

**************

One small and one large hand pressed against your own hands. Gentle touches. Quiet murmuring reached your ears and that was what really started to cause the darkness to fade. Pain. That was really what registered first. Everywhere and everything seemed to hurt. In a way that made you wish for the darkness to creep back in. Lips parted and a groan that caused your entire chest to ache escaped.

"Brenda?" Forcing your eyes open, everything seemed blurry at first. It took several tries to blink away the haze, causing the room to spin violently before settling down. "Easy there, sweetheart. You took a nasty fall down the stairs. Got you all patched up but think you are going to be stuck in bed for a bit." Your mind was hazy but something about that didn't sit right. It felt funny. But, you were in too much pain to really focus on it.

"Had the doc come out and take a look. He said that you have a concussion. Might be hard to remember things for a bit. But, don't you worry. Me and Belle are going to take good care of you. Isn't that right, sweetheart?" A tinier voice answered.

"I promise!" A low chuckle, the sound soft and peaceful. It eased your mind some.

"She's been an eager little helper the whole time. Hasn't wanted to leave your side." The man came into view finally, and the punched brow, tired eyes, but soft smile all lent itself to a worried expression. His hand didn't give yours a squeeze, instead he lifted it carefully, half way bent over himself, and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. You noticed that the wrist was wrapped in a bandage. "I just need you to promise me that you are going to be more careful from now on. You had Belle and I really worried." The little one that was sitting on your other side nodded, before sliding down to a laying position and wrapping her small arms around yours.

"I was scared." The words that came next from you, despite the pain that it caused, kicked up without thought.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to scare you. I promise, it won't ever happy again, okay? It was just an accident." You didn't remember falling down the stairs. This? With him and her felt familiar though. You looked back towards the man and felt a burst of affection.

"You don't have to say anything, sweetheart. Just rest okay? I'm gonna go get you some water. Then you can go back to sleep. Your body is going to need it to heal." You found that you couldn't entirely nod your head. It spiked fear through you before he was leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. That was bandaged too from the feeling of things.

"Angus…"

"I know, I know. It's all going to be okay. You're going to heal up and everything will be back to normal." You felt yourself trusting those words, the tone resolute and yet gentle. There was a fear that remained, especially as he wandered away. There was no fighting the way that your eyes slipped closed once more, struggling to stay conscious long enough to have some water and soothe the ache that was in your throat. You tried to focus on keeping your breathing slow and steady, in and out at an even pace to try to both ignore and ease the pain that you were feeling. It didn't work all that well, but at least helped to dull the throbbing that had settled in your ribs. It provided that something to focus on other than the pain. In and out. Count. Each breath allowed seconds to tick away and slip you closer and closer back to sleep. All before there was a throat being cleared and a large hand against yours once more. Angus.

He carefully helped to ease you up enough, despite the pain, to take a sip of the water. The cool liquid felt good against your parched throat and mouth but too quick an action caused you to cough. It was utter agony as your ribs protested the movement. Shock waves of pain coursed through you, making you see stars.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Ease. Just try to breathe through it." As much as you tried to listen, it was almost impossible. Both he and your daughter tried to ease and talk you through the moment, their voices mingling. It provided something else for your brain to latch onto, despite the tears that slowly tracked down your face, falling without any permission from your tightly closed eyes. Angus gently wiped them away each time that he noticed them. There was something within that ached just as bad as the physical with each touch of his large, rough hands. Something that had you wanting to flinch, wanting to pull away. But the comfort that came from a caring and gentle touch was too much to ignore. You couldn't give into the nagging feeling.

"That's it," he encouraged. You couldn't see him but could feel the warmth of his presence hovering close. "Don't fight it if you have to fall back asleep. We'll be right here when you wake back up. Before you know it, you'll be all better and we'll laugh about everything that we had to do for you." The focus on steadying your breathing gave way to the sudden exhaustion that overcame you. You thought that it was a nice though as sleep once more overtook.

******

It had taken longer than you would have cared to admit for you to be able to get up and move around on your own. A broken leg, several busted ribs, sprained wrist, and concussion were among the injuries sustained in the fall. There was something important that you had forgotten, with the blow to the head causing chronic headaches and haziness that lingered.

Thankfully, you had Angus there to fall back on. The man had been there for anything and everything that you had ever needed. He had helped you physically move around the house while you couldn't and ensured that you were thoroughly distracted so you didn't get too into your head while you healed. Whether that was simply talking to you for hours or sitting and enjoying movies with you. It didn't matter what it was, Angus was sure to spend hours with you.

The effort that it took to walk kept you only partially mobile rather than allowing you to follow the urge that you had to move around and get back to some semblance of life. Especially given how excited your daughter was now that you were up and somewhat moving. Despite the restrictive nature. It gave you something else to focus on when Angus was too busy. With the freedom of some movement, you were able to settle into her bedroom and play dolls, read to her, or help with arts and crafts.

That was where you were currently settled, stretched out over her bed with a book in hand. She was curled up into your side, arms wrapped tightly around yours, listening to you read her new book. A moment that you were able to lose yourself in, finding the motions familiar enough that you were able to not think about the pain that radiated from your leg or the headache that was forming behind your eyes. It was easy to push away the feeling when she was making small excited sounds at the parts of the book that she found enjoyable. Each and every sound made caused your cheeks to hurt from the smile that sat on your lips. The way that she found such enjoyment in things like this was always refreshing. The innocence and joy of small things gave you a new perspective on things.

A throat cleared from the doorway and your eyes shot up to see Angus standing there, smiling as he leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You two look like you are having a good time."

"We are! We just got to a really exciting part." The enthusiasm of your daughter had you both laughing softly.

"It sounds like it is a really exciting part," he offered as he stepped into the room. "We'll know what happens in a little bit. I have to borrow Mom for a bit, okay? It's time for her medicine and we have to make sure that she eats, right?" There was a small whine from her before she was nodding and slowly pulled away from you.

"Yeah, she does." You chuckled softly and turned to kiss the top of her head.

"We'll get right back to it, okay? We'll find out exactly what Arthur the frog is going to do now that Yancy the Beaver is missing." She nodded and moved enough that Angus was able to help you up and off the bed. One arm around your waist, he was able to keep you steady as you made your way out of the room and towards the stairs.

"Easy now," he murmured as you slowly worked your way down the stairs. He was all but holding you up along each step. "We'll get you down these stairs and you can rest. You are doing good, sweetheart." You were grateful for his support, and focused on keeping your breathing steady to be able to make it all the way down the stairs. Once you finally hit the bottom, you blew out a hard breath and felt a small sense of victory. Angus kissed your temple and gave your waist a squeeze. A gentle and quiet good job without the words. It was a relief and from there, it was easier to make it to the kitchen. Your leg burned and the throb in your head was worsening by the second and you were eager to sit and take the medicine that would help dull those pains.

Angus helped ease you down into the chair and moved to grab the medicine, gathering the few pills that you needed, handing them over. You took them along with the cup of tea that he already had prepared.

"Thank you."

"Welcome, sweetheart." Another kiss to your forehead came and it caused you to close your eyes momentarily, soaking in the affection. You ignored the way that your heart fluttered and your stomach rolled, chalking it up to a result of the pain that you were feeling rather than anything else. It didn't take him all that long to step away and grab the sandwich that he had made for you. Eagerly, you accepted it and began to nibble it. Eating too fast would end up making you sick, something that you had learned.

Angus had a cup of coffee for himself and settled down into the chair next to you, smiling to himself as the soft sounds of music had started upstairs.

"I know she's young…but I was thinking that she might enjoy playing the violin. I read that it is better to start younger than later on." As the soft sounds of the more classic music flowed down the stairs, you hummed against the bite that you had taken. It wasn't a bad idea. There was something on the tip of your tongue, wanting to suggest that you give her the choice between music and sports. Something felt right about that. You had never participated in any sports. So why did the thought come to you? Your brow furrowed, trying to sort out why the thought had come and why it bothered you.

"I think she would enjoy it. You don't think she is too young." He shook his head, pausing as he took a sip of his coffee.

"I think that she would enjoy it. Give her something to focus on, something to learn. It will be good for her, especially since we will be moving." You blinked at the comment.

"Moving?" He reached out and gave your hand a small squeeze.

"We had that discussion the day that you fell down the stairs." You tried to recall anything about the conversation but most of that day was still blank, hazy and out of your grasp. "I know you probably don't remember it. But, the move will be good. It's a better place for us, for her. With all the stuff going on, the break-ins, I know you were worried. Especially when we had those guys hanging around the house a few weeks ago." As much as it annoyed you that you couldn't recall the conversation, you felt that leaving was the right thing to do. So it must have been a decision that you had both made prior to that. Right?

******

You had struggled to help with the move, not able to really carry anything even remotely heavy. Angus had decided to hire a moving company to help you. Not that he wasn't capable but his focus was on getting you and your daughter to the home and settled in. He didn't want you trying to help and overexert yourself. He knew that you would have likely tried to overdo it and cause things to worsen. While a lot of your injuries were healing well, the broken leg still kept you staggered and off kilter.

Everything happened swiftly. The house was packed and being shipped to the new house in the matter of a few days. Angus had you both packed up and in the car, heading over state lines and to the new adventure that awaited you both.

Your daughter was settled into the back, cuddling the stuffed bear and swinging her legs as she looked out of the window, seemed entirely unbothered by the entire fact. It worried you to some degree. Weren't children supposed to not like change? Then again, she had always been an easy child, fairly carefree and unbothered. Maybe you were just overreacting with your own underlying anxieties over the move. A lot could go wrong, there were a lot of moving parts. Angus hardly seemed concerned about any of it, his focus on keeping your two safe and away from any harm that could befall you. Feeling a little paranoid yourself after he had relayed part of the reason for the move, you hadn't wanted to see much of anyone, and were thankful that he had you both loaded up before the movers had truly arrived. All the while, keeping you occupied and out of eye sight when you couldn't leave the house and they were there.

A couple of hours into the drive, you felt your stomach rumble and your leg start up that dull throb. It was time for medicine and food. Before you could voice your thought, the small voice in the back did.

"I'm hungry." You laughed softly.

"You know what, I think I'm hungry too." You looked back at her with a smile and she giggled softly. Then your attention turned to Angus. His eyes glanced towards your daughter in the rear view for a moment before he glanced towards you.

"We will stop in a little bit, okay? I just wanna get a little further." You could practically hear the pout in the backseat. As much as you wanted to stop then, you knew that he would keep to it and continue driving on. If he wasn't going to make you wait another few hours, then you could deal. You reached for one of the few snacks that you had and handed it back to your daughter. She clapped excitedly before taking it. It wouldn't be enough to ruin her appetite but hold her over. The last thing that either of you needed was a whining, complaining child. Angus reached over, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. A silent appreciation and thanks for providing and not arguing. You could understand his desire to put more distance and get to where you were going. It would be easier to just be there than prolong the trip. Especially with a kid.

You went on another hour and a half before he found a place that would work to grab some food.

"All right, we are going to stop and get something to eat. You both ready?" He asked, getting a small cheer from the backseat.

"Sounds like a plan to me. Think I could use something for my leg while we are stopped."

"I got everything right up top. I'll get you what you need as soon as we get some food into you, okay?"

"Thanks, Angus." He pulled the car to a stop and gave you a smile.

"Anything for you, sweetheart." He leaned over and you met him for a soft kiss. You watched with a smile as he slipped from the car and moved to get your daughter first. It took a moment for you to open the door and swing your leg out of the car. Another second before you were able to push to your feet. The car was helpful as you used it to push your weight upward. The leg protested the movement and the weight that it was forced to carry. Fingers flexed against the door and the roof, allowing you to work through the pain before it was more controlled and you could move.

Your daughter grabbed a hold of your hand and Angus shifted to wrap an arm around your waist, helping support your weight. The smell of food made your stomach rumble once more.

Sitting in the small diner, you were hit with a feeling of deja vu. Like you had been seated here before, in this sort of scenario. The name Charlie floated across your mind. Instead of sitting here with Angus, you were sitting with someone else, softly talking and laughing along with your daughter. It felt so visceral, so real. Blinking it away, you heard Angus call out softly for you.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Sort of drifted off a bit there." He was silent for a long moment, eyes focused solely on you. For a moment, the scrutiny felt uncomfortable. Judging, second guessing, trying to make some sort of determination about something that felt heavy. An important moment for a reason that you would never know. You wanted to squirm, to try and shy away from the pressure that suddenly felt like it was on your shoulders. It disappeared as the waitress came over to refill his coffee cup.

"Why don't I go get your medicine? Hm?"

"Yeah, yeah. That would be great. Thank you." He nodded and slipped from the booth to head back to the car. You tried to focus on the drawing that your daughter was making. But, that nagging feeling refused to ease and fade into the background. Your fingers fiddled with the hem of the jacket you were wearing before you felt something. Tugging at the hem of the jacket, folded away in a small hold was a folded piece of paper. It turned out to be a photo.

You, your daughter, and another man sat there in a park, a small patch of trees behind you. Something about it stirred your gut, something that you weren't able to quite place. Someone from your past? While you could have asked Angus about it, there was a tug in your chest at the thought. Something telling you to stay silent about it. Quickly, you folded it back up and tucked it safely back to where you had found it. Thankfully, just in time. Angus appeared several moments later and settled back in after handing you over the medicine that you needed.

"Thank you," you murmured again before taking it. Should you have been? The thought came too late. But then again, why wouldn't you have taken them and trusted Angus? He hadn't been anything but truthful. As far as you could tell. You had seen the marriage certificate, had seen the photos, everything that signaled he had been the one that you had chosen in your life. Why did that now suddenly cause you some distress?

"Why don't get we finished up and get moving? We can get the seat pushed back a bit so we can get you a little more comfortable. Maybe you would be able to get some sleep." That sounded like a good idea. Maybe sleep would help shake those thoughts and worries that were starting to eat at you.

A clawing feeling in your chest began to build. There was a sense of panic, that was what it was, as you grew closer to the car. You tried to keep your breathing steady, not giving any sort of sign that you were having a hard time with things. It wouldn't be fair to Belle or Angus. Your husband. That's right. He was your husband. The man in the picture couldn't have meant anything. it didn't matter that your daughter had some of the man's features. There were ways to explain that away. Tucking your hands into your pockets, you tried to hide the slight shake that had appeared.

As you settled into the car, Angus was still carefully watching you. His fingers brushed through your hair before his hand cupped your cheek gently.

"Just relax and get some sleep, okay? We'll be home in no time and all of this will be behind us."

You nodded, trying to hide the shaky breath that was exhaled. Angus gave you one last look before closing the door and moving to the driver seat. You tried not to think about the photo or the way that the thought of the man in the photo caused some sadness.

********

The thoughts that had circled at the diner had been present for the remainder of the road trip and as you settled into the new home. Nightmares had plagued you night after night along with rolling images that felt more like memories than dreams.

it made you feel like you couldn't settle into the new home. Despite the way that the peaceful atmosphere permeated through the house. The classical music was almost always floating through the air now. Angus had decided to go ahead and get that violin. Belle had been ecstatic about it, promising to practice daily. Something that would surely fall off as the sheen of something new wore off. She was young to be able to do much. Still, you had started to look for someone who might be able to teach her. It wasn't like she was going to get any sort of teaching in school, still too young for that to be a thing.

It was an activity that provided a distraction from the increasing paranoia and worries that were eating away at you. Something wasn't right but you couldn't place any of it. There was no proof that any of those thoughts were right or that anything that Angus said was a lie.

Angus had picked up that something was off, keeping a close eye on you. His hands were almost always on you and there were millions of things to take up time during the day. Since he was home, there was little reprieve from any of it. You weren't sure if you felt grateful for the fact or annoyed. That simple act only served to heighten the frustration. You should have been happy. Belle was flourishing and gaining new friends quickly. There was a gorgeous house that was your new home. Things were going well. Maybe you were trying to self destruct. That was a thing. Maybe you should talk to someone. How to approach Angus about that was an obstacle that you weren't sure you wanted to tackle. Rubbing your forehead, the circling and spiraling thoughts were a useless endeavor.

Finding something to distract you was easier said than done.

Angus had gone out to grab some groceries. It felt like it was the first time that you had been alone in quiet awhile. Moving around the house, you tried ignore the growing headache that pounded against your skull. Nothing pulled your attention, nothing seemed like it was a good enough distraction. Instead, you pulled the picture out of the jacket and stared, trying to connect the dots. Where things didn't line up and why it felt like everything was one big lie. One way or another.

It certainly wasn't the best way to spend your time. Nor was it a good way to keep track of time. You were sitting, staring at the photo, barely aware of the house around you. When the hand clapped down against your shoulder, you jumped in your seat.

"I asked what you had there, Brenda." You blinked, having not heard him enter. The picture was not something that he was meant to see and his eyes had moved down to it. A frown appeared and before you could react, he had ripped it from your hand.

"Angus…"

"Where did you find this?" The tone was soft but unmistakably angry. Far more angry than you had ever heard him. You swallowed, the words getting caught in your throat and unable to provide the answer that he wanted. He slammed down the bag that he had in his hand and turned to you. "Is this what has you so distracted? Ignoring me and Belle?" Ignoring them? You hadn't been doing that. Had you?

He took the lack of your response as an answer enough.

"I thought we were over this." He took a breath but as he turned to face you fully, you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way that his frame was almost a little hunched. You didn't understand what brought about such a sense of anger.

"Over what? Angus, I don't know what you are talking about." He shook his head, pulling a lighter from a drawer and burning the photo over the sink. Before you could think about the action, you jumped to your feet and tried desperately to stop him. The photo was important. You just knew that, instinctively. The reason was beyond you but you knew that you couldn't let him burn it. He smacked your hand away before dropping it. As you tried to turn on the water, Angus grabbed you around the waist and hauled you off of your feet. "What are you doing?!"

"I think it's time for you to rest, sweetheart." That familiar sense of panic that had been rearing it's head came rushing back. You couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Arms and legs flailed without thought as Angus hauled you off towards the stairs. "Keep flailing like that and you are going to hurt yourself again. Your leg isn't healed. Knock it off."

"What is going on?" Charlie. The man had been named Charlie and he meant something. Something incredibly close and personal to your life. Like what you had seen in that hazy memory like thing at the diner.

"You just need some sleep and you will feel better."

"I feel fine, Angus." His arms tightened around you and hauled you up the stairs by passed right by your bedroom, towards the end of the hall. You were at a loss as to what was happening. Fear, genuine fear, was prickling your spine and while he had been right, your leg was aching worse and worse, you continued to try and squirm out of his grasp. While the actions were proving entirely useless, it made you feel better that you weren't simply giving up to whatever was about to happen. He nudged the door open and shifted to be able to get the both of you through the doorway. It was the small storage room for all the things that you hadn't been able to get unpacked just yet. He kicked a few boxes to the side, revealing a small cot that you hadn't known was there. That was the least of your concerns though when you saw a chain attached to the wall, a cuff sitting at the other end. "You don't need to do this. I swear. Come on, Angus. Please. Honey, please." He didn't budge at your pleas, swiping up the cuff and in a struggle with you where you ended up whacking your leg against the wall, ended up getting it on. You whimpered in pain and collapsed down to the cot.

"You know I don't like this, sweetheart. But, it's in your best interest. You'll frighten Belle." He knelt down and brush some of the tears from your cheeks. "I'll be back later with dinner. Right now, you focus on getting some sleep. Okay?" Visions of this happening before suddenly entered your mind. It wasn't the first time that you had been locked up. By him. In the last house, he had kept you held. Charlie. He was dead.

"You killed him…." It was a revelation, a moment of clarity that broke through the convoluted reality that had become your world.

"I didn't do anything. Now, get some sleep." He stepped back and left the room, locking the door behind him, leaving you equally trapped in here even if you managed to get out of the cuff.

*************

Your eyes felt gritty and your mouth dry. The room spun around you when you attempted to open them, a heavy wave of nausea hitting hard. It looks several seconds to pass, your eyes squeezed tightly shut against the onslaught of sensations. The throb in your leg was present, so much worse than it had been in a few weeks. Overall, muscles ached and protested any movement. A few slow breaths helped the nausea pass by and slowly, you risked opening your eyes. The room was darker than expected. Quiet.

It took a few more minutes of building up courage and trying to force your body into submission before you were able to drag yourself into a seated position. There was only a little bit of room spinning associated with the movement and the nausea nowhere near as bad. Small blessings and all of that. You stayed stable for a few moments, trying to ensure that the feelings wouldn't worsen the next time you moved. Just as you felt ready to attempt standing, the door creaked open.

"Brenda, sweetheart, you're up." The soothing tone of Angus's voice filled the room. It eased the pressure in your chest but seemed to make the dull headache that you felt worse. With the small amount of light streaming into the room, you were able to notice that your vision was just a bit blurry, erring on the side of fuzzy. In that split second, it felt like you were supposed to be mad at Angus. For something. What it was refused to be recalled. Had he ruined something? It was a like an itch in your brain that couldn't be scratched. "You had a bad reaction to the new pain medication that they put you on." Vaguely, you felt like you could recall the doctor saying something about that, the coolness of a room pressing down on you and an uncomfortable bed beneath you. That had to mean a hospital. It had all those times in the past. That had to be why your head was hurting and the pain in your leg was worse. Taking you off the medication that had been meant to help probably also meant receiving nothing else for a bit.

"My head hurts," you managed to croak out, lifting a hand to press some fingers to your temple as if it could alleviate the pain and then pressing them into your eyes. Your mouth felt like a desert.

"Drink this." His voice had softened and he pressed a glass of something cool into your free hand. One small sip was taken to ensure it didn't immediately come back up. Then a few gulps. "Doctor should be by in a little bit. May be a new city but I still had a few favors from the force that I was able to call in." The care brought a small smile to your face. "We'll get through this. Like we always do."

Like we always do. It felt wrong, like a bad taste left behind by something you had expected to enjoy. Fuzzy memories played like hazed film in your mind. Fighting with Angus. Being upset over something. Being.. locked up? No. That didn't seem right. Angus took good care of you and Belle. Always had. He wouldn't intentionally hurt you. Surely, that sort of feeling wouldn't be wrong. Even so, your stomach churned and the image of you swinging at him with a pipe flashed before your eyes. The warmth of his hand against the back of your neck hardly did anything to soothe the tidal waves of conflicting emotions that whirled through you. You hunched over a little more, both an attempt to alleviate the cramping that rolled through your stomach, the sort that threatened in equal measure to the bile rising in your throat, and to shift away from the touch without the need for any sort of excuse. You needed a moment.

As you got sick, a bucket appeared in front of you, ensuring no mess ended up on the floor. Everything seemed to want to cramp at once as your stomach clenched and emptied itself over and over again. There was nothing to bring up but it still forced acid and bile upward. You groaned as your throat burned, unaware of anything else in that moment.

"Aw, sweetheart," Angus cooed gently before helping you settle back onto the bed in a reclined position. "I got some soup almost ready from you. Take another small sip of this water, okay? I know you probably don't want to but it's gonna help clear that taste." There was something chemical, not just burning acid that lingered in your mouth. But, in that moment, you couldn't give it much though. Not with the pain throbbing in your leg, the cramping of multiple muscles, the throbbing in your head that only worsened with each breath, and the burn in your throat. His hand pressed to your forehead before brushing some hair back from your face. An action meant to be soothing and you found yourself closing your eyes at the action. Breath slowed almost unconsciously. "That's it. Just relax for me. We'll get Belle all set up here and the two of you watching some movies."

Something you always did if one of you wasn't feeling well. That was concrete. Nodding slowly so that you didn't end up making the nausea worse.

"The doctor will be here soon and I'll make sure that he knows that your stomach is this bad." He brushed more hair from your forehead before pressing a kiss to the skin. That pressure in your chest began to settled, his presence still feeling a little stifling but less aggressive and less, well you weren't sure about the word but maybe threatening? You reached out and grabbed a hold of his hand, warring with yourself momentarily. Did you ask him to stay? Would it be better if he went? The indecision and pull of different emotions was overwhelming and you felt the tears welling, throat constricting for an entirely different reason. Belle couldn't see you crying. You had to get things together.

"Thank you," you murmured softly. What that thank you was for wasn't exactly clear but the words had slipped nonetheless. You felt another kiss pressed to the top of your head, and the gentle curve of his lips. Something about it felt odd but you shoved those sensations away in favor of remaining calm and as composed for your daughter as possible.

"I'll be back shortly, sweetheart. Just try to relax until then." It took a second for your brain to make your body cooperate, fingers releasing their hold on his.

"Okay." You kept your eyes closed. It was easier. The throb in your head was ever present but seemed to ease off just slightly when you had no vision of your surroundings. Just a migraine. Surely just a migraine.

******

You woke with a start. Sweat beaded your forehead and dripped down your neck. The dreams had been odd at best. Clips of memories and things that certainly weren't your own. Like one of those weird situations in dreams where it feels so real but you know that it wasn't. The house creaked and shifted as thunder boomed overhead, rain beginning to patter against the window. Lightning filled the dark room around you and you shuddered slightly. It was just a storm. Almost at the same time, the gentle swell of Belle's music filtered through the room. Trust your girl to be working on her music still. It brought a smile to your face and while the remnants of the headache lingered, it was enough to be ignored as you were reminded of the passion that she had. How driven she was. How successful she was going to be. Her genuine enjoyment of it was infectious.

With a sigh, you slipped from the bed and took a moment to ensure that you were steady on your feet. It was best to find Angus. Make sure that there was nothing that needed to be done for the storm. And to make sure that he had finished up dinner. By now, they had likely eaten, and that was fine by you.

You wanted to shake the dreams off as quickly as possible. There was no point in dwelling on the things that your mind had conjured up. Angus and Belle were the ones that you needed to focus on and you knew that it would make you feel better. Maybe it was time to mention to the doctor that you needed a tweak in your medication. Angus might have some input. Or he would tell you not to worry about it. That was an entirely real possibility.

Another rumble if thunder got you moving, though you didn't have to go far, stepping out of the door onto to be greeted by your husband. Giving him a smile, you didn't say anything right away, opting to pull him into a hug. He chuckled lowly but wrapped his arms around you without any protest.

"It's okay, sweetheart." You hummed before pulling back just enough to look up at him.

"Sorry. Just some bad dreams to go along with the storm." His smile faltered a bit at that, one hand pressed to your lower back, moving up and down soothingly. Eyes stared into yours, now sharpened eith a focus that you hadn't seen much since he had retired. Or was trained on protecting Belle. It gave you pause for just a second, those feelings from the dreams seemingly still lingering.

"You wanna talk about it?" His voice was still soft, encouraging but there was a hint of worry that slipped underneath it all.

"One of those things were it's like you are two different people, ya know? Things that feel real but you know aren't. Everything is so vivid and visceral but in the end it is just a dream. Where you wake up still feeling what had happened. We even got into this weird fight. It was like I didn't know you." It felt weird to say aloud, and you almost felt foolish for even attempting to explain. What had seemed like a good idea juat moments ago now seemed like something you should have entirely ignored. It was out in the open now though.

"Sounds like a nightmare." The words caused the smallest of smiles to break. The short answer was exactly what should have been expected. As good of a caretaker as he was, there were times you wondered if he really understood emotion. But then, he did something silly or thoughtful and you forgot all about those things.

"Yeah, felt like it too." You let out a small sigh and shook your head. "Rather forget all about it. Did you need any help with the windows with that storm picking up?"