Everyday Peril
Chapter 15: To Still a Rocking World

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Thanks for reading, everyone, and for the reviews. Well, here it is, the last chapter (and it's long). Enjoy!

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The ride home was nearly silent. Sydney took Michael's hand the moment he got in the car and didn't let it go until they pulled into the driveway. Words weren't exchanged between the two; they weren't needed. Their comfortable silence was only broken for the briefest of moments, when Hailey asked if they were going to have "real" dinner, and Michael told her he would make her something when they got home. The twins had eaten their fill of Eric's macaroni and cheese; Jonny out of a mysterious liking for the concoction, and William, it seemed, from a strange (for a child his age) mixture of politeness and respect.

It wasn't until the entire Vaughn family was inside the house that Sydney spoke to him again. The first words she said to him since they left the pier. "I'll go get the twins ready for bed."

Michael surveyed the scene before them. Jonny looked like he had macaroni stuck in his hair and would definitely need a bath. William was quietly petting Donovan, who had seated himself impatiently by his dish the moment he had heard the car in the driveway and seemed intent on staying there until someone decided to feed him. Hailey was already rooting through the refrigerator, seeing what there was for "real" dinner.

And Sydney was exhausted. He could see it in the dark bags under her eyes and the way she leaned a little against the kitchen chair, could hear it in her quiet, breathy voice as she spoke the words. She looked barely able to keep her eyes open, let alone give their twin boys a bath and go through the nighttime ordeal of finding and getting them into their pajamas.

"You should go to bed, Syd. I'll take care of the kids."

"It's okay. I've got it."

She wanted to do it, wanted to help. He could see that in her eyes as well. It was almost as if she needed to prove that she still could, was using it as another way to show she was sorry. He wanted to let her do it, was so close to giving in; it would, after all, make his night easier. But…

"Baby, you're exhausted."

She smiled softly at him; a swift, barely nonexistent lifting of the corners of her mouth. He wouldn't even have considered it a smile two weeks ago, but it counted now. "You just make Hailey her dinner."

He didn't have a chance to argue as she took the twins and led them from the room. William came readily, at his mother's side even before she called him. Jonny had to be carried. He could sense it was bath time and was putting up a fight, apparently intent on saving the macaroni that adorned him for a midnight snack and unwilling to have it washed away.

Michael almost considered calling her back, telling her he'd wash up the twins and she could get their daughter's dinner ready. But quickly scratched that from his mind. She had wanted to do this, hadn't given in when he told her not to. She was coming back to life. Besides, this way, he could make dinner for her as well and make sure that she ate it before going to bed.

"Daddy!" Hailey was pulling on his pant leg, and it was only then that he realized she had been calling his name for awhile.

"What, sweetie?"

Now in full possession of her father's attention, Hailey smiled sweetly up at him, letting go of his leg. "Can we have girl cheese?"

"Girl cheese?" He asked warily. He was just as capable of refusing his daughter anything as he was his wife, and he silently prayed that this wouldn't involve any artistic ability or creativity on his part.

"Yeah, the kind that you cook on the stove so the cheese is all melty."

Ah, grilled cheese. She hadn't said anything about transforming the sandwich into a girl, and although it appeared to just have been a mispronunciation on her part, he wasn't going to bring it up. Plain grilled cheese was quick and easy. He could handle that.

"Sure," he answered, getting the bread out of the cabinet and locating the butter dish.

"Can I help?" Hailey asked, already bringing him the cheese before he had a chance to respond.

"Yep. Thanks." He extracted a pan from the cabinet under the counter and began to butter the bread. "Why don't you put the cheese on?"

"Okay," Hailey answered brightly, but after he had buttered four slices of bread and put two down in the pan and the others butter-side-up on the counter, it was apparent that she was going to need some help. "The cheese is all sticking together," she sighed a moment later, finally giving in to his questioning glance and handing him the package.

"How about you give Donovan his dinner?" Michael offered, finishing his work on the sandwiches and remembering the hungry dog still waiting by his dish.

The little girl obeyed and skipped merrily across the kitchen, her failure with the cheese all but forgotten. She slowly and carefully carried the food bag over to the dog bowl and began to pour it out.

"Is the kind that's not cooked called boy cheese?" she asked, as the dog food began to clink into the bowl. Distracted by her own question, she looked up at her father, and without waiting for his answer, continued, "Do you think it's boy cheese 'cause it's not cooked, and girls cook better than bo… oops."

Donovan's dish had filled to overflowing, spilling over onto Hailey's feet. But it had saved him from having to answer her questions, from having to shatter her belief in "girl" cheese at the tender age of four. She would figure it out by herself before it mattered, but in the meantime, he had to admit it was kind of cute.

Hailey tried unsuccessfully to scoop up the extra food while keeping the excited little dog at bay. Michael grinned and moved to help her.

"We should give some to Uncle Eric," Hailey stated matter-of-factly, smiling at her father. "He can mix it with his macaroni and cheese and nobody will even be able to know."

Michael had to bite his cheeks to keep from laughing. As much as he loved to hear his best friend be made fun of, he had to teach his daughter that it what she had said wasn't nice. She was more than likely beginning to catch on to how the two men relentlessly teased each other, and he regretfully realized that he was probably going to have to tone that down until Hailey was old enough to understand what she could and couldn't say.

"Be nice to your Uncle Eric," he commanded gently, picking his daughter up and taking her to the sink. Balancing her on his knee, he squirted soap onto his hands and scrubbed them against her good one, carefully using a sponge on her other hand so as not to get her cast wet.

"But, Daddy…" she protested as he put her down.

"He did the best he could, sweetie," he continued, returning to the stove and flipping one of the sandwiches. "I think he was a little stressed out with all you kids there. And not all boys are bad cooks."

"Mommy cooks better than you most of the times," Hailey pointed out, pushing a chair over to the counter so she could help him.

He helped her up and let her hold the spatula, putting his hand over her own to guide her as they flipped the second sandwich together. "Well, who grills the best hamburgers this side of…"

"I don't like hamburgers," Hailey interrupted, without a thought to her father's feelings.

"Hotdogs?" he asked, trying again. The grill was his area of expertise. Sydney knew how to work it as well as he did, but was not let anywhere near it. He had never flat out told her that she wasn't allowed to grill anything, but she had sensed it from the beginning, and was willing to boost his manly pride by calling him at work and telling him to hurry home because she needed him to grill the steak for dinner.

But Hailey shook her head at the thought of hotdogs, too, crinkling her nose and sticking out her tongue. And he suddenly remembered how picky an eater his little girl was. She would eat only a hotdog roll for dinner at a barbeque if there was nothing else that she liked, so they had finally taken to just bringing peanut butter sandwiches for her. Sydney had said that she would grow out of it eventually, and Michael hoped she was right. As far as he was concerned, not liking hamburgers and hotdogs was just un-American.

Well, since pretty much anything cooked on the grill was out, and he had never ventured much further beyond things that were boxed or canned… "Well, who orders the best pizza?"

Hailey giggled. "You do, Daddy. You always get just cheese, and Mommy makes us eat it with veg… vegbet… vebegel… green things and mushrooms on it."

Michael smiled. He had known he would win that one. Taking two plates out, he checked the sandwiches one last time before putting them onto their plates and turning off the stove. He stood surveying them for a moment and then looked at his daughter. "I think we did a pretty good job. What about you?"

"Pretty good," Hailey agreed, tilting her head and holding a finger to her chin. "We have to cut off the crusts first." She went to get a knife out of the drawer, but Michael moved her hand out of the way.

"I'll take care of that." He cut the crusts off one sandwich, and after a moment's hesitation, the other as well. Then he cut both into triangles.

"You are good," Hailey nodded. "Just like Mommy's. I'll get the juice."

He watched, munching on the sandwich crust, as Hailey got two cups and very slowly poured apple juice into them. She was being so careful not to spill that he had finished all the crust by the time she put the bottle of juice down on the counter.

"Do you want some apple juice, Daddy?"

"No, sweetie. I'm all set."

At that moment, Sydney walked in the room. The sleeves of her sweater had been pushed up around her elbows, but she quickly pulled them down, keeping her hands bunched in the soft fabric. She didn't know that Michael saw her shiver.

"The boys are in their room," she said quietly, and then turned her head and gestured toward her and Michael's bedroom. "I'm…"

"… going to eat your dinner," Michael finished for her, pulling a chair out for her at the kitchen table. "Come on, gorgeous."

Sydney looked hesitant. Michael knew that she still wasn't hungry. She hadn't been hungry for days. But she had to eat. He knew that she was going to tell them that she was tired, that she was going to go to bed. But…

"Me and Daddy made girl cheese!" Hailey exclaimed proudly. "All by ourselves!"

And there was no living, breathing, feeling creature on earth that could resist that smile, that would even consider spoiling the naïve happiness of such a sweet little girl. "I'm sure it's delicious," Sydney murmured.

Michael held out his hand and she took it. He gave her a soft kiss on the temple, thought that he felt her lean into his touch, prayed that he hadn't been dreaming. She took the seat he offered her and began to nibble at her food.

Michael joined his girls at the table, watching as they ate their grilled cheese and drank their juice. Hailey finished first, quickly gobbling up her sandwich and slurping her juice, not spilling more than a few drops. She brought her dishes to the sink, and at her father's bidding and a promise to play a game if she was quick like a bunny, skipped away to put her pajamas on.

Neither husband nor wife said a word as he helped himself to a triangle of her sandwich, now moist and cold. But he swallowed it down; it made it look as if she had eaten more. Nearly half the sandwich was a start, though; a small one, but a start nonetheless.

He stood up and took her plate. She wasn't going to eat anymore, and he wasn't going to make her.

"I…" Sydney began, but found she had nothing to say.

"I know," he murmured, offering her a small smile. The hunger, like complete happiness, would return with time. He put her dishes in the sink and helped her up from the table. "You're exhausted, baby. Go to sleep."

She gazed at him for a moment, moving slowly toward him. Her lips came closer to his, and he thought that if it happened, if she kissed him, all the bad things would melt away. And it almost did. Almost bubbled over and dripped over the edge, spilling to where it didn't matter, where it could easily be cleaned up and thrown away. It almost happened. But…

"Daddy! I'm all dressed!"

Sydney jumped back, as if shot, and Michael put a hand on her to steady her, to keep her from running completely away. He didn't know what sort of absurd timing mechanism had been planted in his daughter, and if he had been over-paranoid, he would have been certain that someone had been plotting against him. But she was just a little girl after all.

Hailey appeared in the doorway, pajamas on and a brightly colored box in her arms. "Let's play Candy Land!" she shouted happily, not noticing the moment she had unintentionally broken between her parents, would have certainly quieted and walked away if she had. But it wouldn't have mattered.

"Candy! Candy!" came Jonny's voice from the hallway, and Michael could hear the gate rattle as his son yanked on it, trying to escape.

"I telled the twins all about it, and they want to play, too. I'll set it all up," Hailey exclaimed quickly and brightly, and hurried from the room. "I'm lellow!"

Michael looked to his wife; with the sudden interruption and Jonny's shouts still echoing down the hallway, he knew that whatever had been about to happen was no more. He brushed her hair behind her ear and kissed her once again. This time, he knew that she lingered against his lips, and decided to rejoice at that and not dwell on what hadn't happened.

"Goodnight, Syd."

He led her from the room, stopping at the twins' door to open the gate. She continued down the hall, stopping in their darkened doorway and watching him like a shadow. He hadn't known she was still there, but heard her soft voice follow him down the hallway. "Goodnight, Michael."

Hailey had Candy Land all set to go by the time he and the twins arrived in the living room. She told everybody exactly where they had to sit, handed out the gingerbread men, and declared that she was to go first.

It took longer than he had anticipated; Hailey got stuck in the Molasses Swamp for eight consecutive turns, and when Michael's little red man had been two spaces away from the Candy Castle, he was sent back to the Peppermint Stick Forest. And everything went downhill from there.

William actually won, allowing his blue game piece to be paraded around the board by his older sister and even picking up cards when prodded. Jonny's green gingerbread man touched the board only once, landing there after being catapulted across the room

But finally, the game was over, the cards were collected from various hiding spots Jonny had found for them around the room, and the children were kissed and tucked into bed.

As it was still relatively early, Michael spent a few minutes cleaning the dishes in the kitchen and took Donovan for a quick walk. He returned and flipped through the channels on the TV before deciding that he might as well go to bed. He knew sleep wouldn't find him for quite awhile, but he couldn't concentrate on anything but Sydney and how much he wanted to be by her side.

Opening the door to his bedroom, he stepped inside and softly shut the door, letting his eyes slowly adjust to the darkness. Sydney was still in her clothes, curled up under the covers, as far from his side of the bed as she could get and facing the window, a sight he had grown accustomed to seeing these past weeks. Sighing, realizing that he had been wishing that tonight would be different, that he would have found her asleep more on his pillow than her own, he quickly changed out of his clothes and lay down in bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling.


Awhile later, he was still far from sleep, which was lucky, otherwise he wouldn't have heard it. It was barely a whisper, one he wouldn't even have noticed had he been anywhere near dreamland.

"Michael?"

He turned to face her, finding her back still toward him, her position unchanged. It occurred to him that she hadn't been asleep when he walked in the room, had seen him watching her, heard his sad sigh. Something had kept her awake, kept the exhaustion from taking over her, from bringing her to the sleep she so desperately needed.

"Syd, baby, what's wrong?"

Her brief pause told her that she probably hadn't expected him to be awake, her sigh of relief that she was glad he was. Sydney turned to face him, bringing her body close to his, so close that they were not even a whisper apart.

She didn't say another word, and Michael knew she was searching for comfort, knew that he needed it too. But wasn't sure whether she needed a kind word, a gentle caress, a tender kiss… What would it take to make everything better?

So he reached out a hand, running it lightly across her cheek. "Baby, it's okay. It's gonna be okay."

"Vaughn…"

"Michael," he interrupted, his command gentle. He needed to hear his first name from her tonight.

"Michael," she repeated obediently, like an innocent school child. "I can't sleep." I need you…

"I know." He couldn't remember the last time she actually had. He had always tried to stay awake as long as she did, but mostly failed. There were times when her eyes had closed and her breathing steadied, but her sleep had been fitful, not what could be considered anything close to rest.

Sydney knew what she needed, what both of them did. She knew what she wanted to say, what she had wanted to say every night for two weeks but hadn't been able to. "Michael?" she asked again, knowing the right words this time, willing them to come to her.

"Yeah?"

She didn't answer for so long that he would have thought she had finally fallen asleep if he hadn't seen her dark eyes gazing into his own. When her voice did come, it was little more than a murmur, but it was all that was needed.

"Make love to me."

Her request took him by surprise. He had thought she would apologize again, that he would have to tell her once more that it was all right, even when he wanted more than anything to beg her not to be sorry, not to apologize.

She didn't usually voice this request, instead overwhelming him with her actions and making the outcome inevitable, unavoidable, painful in its irresistible necessity and bliss. But she was asking now, her eyes begging. He never thought this would be something he would deny her, but…

"Syd, it's…" … too much. Too soon… I don't want to hurt you. I…

"Please, Michael," she interrupted softly. "I've been numb for so long. I… I need to feel again." Her voice dropped so low that it was almost nothing more than a gentle rumble. But he heard her words. "I need you."

And he knew he couldn't deny her that. She needed him and he needed her; they both needed to feel again, needed to live. So he pulled her impossibly closer, kissing her languidly, the desire building so incredibly slowly that he didn't realize how strong his need for her had suddenly become until he pulled away, breathless, every inch of his skin tingling, every drop of his blood on fire.

It had never been like this before, so slow and careful, not even the first time. The lust was there, raging within them both, but not expressed through words or actions. Only security and love. Only quiet whispers and gentle caresses. Only a soft breeze and the hushed chirping of crickets outside the window. Only him and her.

She tried to speed up the pace, to make it what he was used to, to make it better for him. But he wouldn't let her. It seemed he was more afraid of breaking her than she was of being broken. This was for reassurance and love, nothing more.

But nothing was broken that night, with the exception of the barrier that had wormed its way up between them, that had taken longer to fall than anything had before. Nothing would ever find its way between them again, not like that. They wouldn't let it.

Sydney was calm now, relaxed nearly to the point of sleep and still in his arms. Michael didn't want to move, but knew from experience and Jack's lecture that clothes were a good thing, so despite her silent protests, slid out of bed and found his shirt and boxers.

He rummaged through drawers until he found one of her tank tops and a pair of his boxers, her usual nighttime apparel. He helped her out of bed and she slipped into the clothing without argument, tired beyond words.

Together, they found their way back to bed and fell under the covers. Sydney didn't move from his side of the bed, resting her head completely on his pillow. She clutched him tightly, even after she began to drop off, her head resting on his shoulder, their legs hopelessly intertwined.

He didn't know how either of them had fallen asleep like that. She had, he knew, because he felt her soft breathing and steady heartbeat, heard her sighs of contentment. And he must have as well, because the next thing he knew, a gentle tapping on his arm drew him out of his dreams.

For a moment, he thought that Sydney had awakened and moved out of bed. But she was still asleep beside him, and he was beginning to notice that although the little face was his wife's, the eyes staring into his were his own.

"Daddy?"

"'smatter?" he slurred, voice still thick with sleep. Normally, he would have sat up or taken the little girl into his arms, but he was caught in Sydney's embrace, unwilling to break away.

"I had a bad dream," she whispered, trying unsuccessfully to keep the tears out of her voice.

"What happened?" he asked quietly, beginning to wake up completely.

This was their ritual whenever his daughter woke him up. He made her recount her nightmares, and maybe that was the reason she usually went to her mother first, wanting just to crawl into bed with her parents and be held. But these past two weeks, he hadn't once awakened and found the little girl in her mother's arms. She had come to him every time.

Hailey took a deep breath and sighed; she had known that this would be coming. "I was in the woods and all the teddy bears from the movie were there. And then the bad mans comed and maked them all eat Uncle Eric's macaroni and cheese, and all the teddybears falled over and stopped moving. Even the little baby one and he was so cute," she added tearfully, pausing before going on. "Then Mommy was there and she was the princess that didn't have a crown or pretty dress, and the baddest bad man of all made her eat it too… And she falled over, but I don't know if she wasn't moving 'cause I waked up."

"It's okay, sweetie," Michael murmured, freeing one of his hands to reach up and brush back her hair. "It was just a dream."

"Where's Mommy?" Hailey asked in a tiny voice. She wouldn't be satisfied until she was sure her mother was safe, and hadn't seen her familiar outline under the covers when she had tiptoed into the room.

"Right here," Michael assured her, nodding toward Sydney.

Hailey leaned closer, squinting for a moment, but her features suddenly relaxing when she realized that her mother was not just by her father's side, she was in his arms. There wasn't a safer place the little girl could think of, her mommy would be all right there.

"Last time I comed in here, she was all the way over there," Hailey whispered, pointing to the far side of the bed. "Can I sleep in your bed, please, Daddy?"

"Your Mommy's tired and you have to be careful not to wake her up, but you can stay until you fall asleep," Michael told her, knowing that she would fight sleep as long as she could in order to have a few more minutes safe in her parents' arms. But it was nearly impossible for Sydney and Michael to sleep once the little girl was in their bed. As rambunctious as Hailey might be during the day, she somehow found it in her to move even more at night.

Hailey frowned at this, but realizing that the deal was not going to be made any sweeter, reluctantly agreed. There was a little space between her father and the side of the bed, and she tried to climb in, catching her foot on one of the blankets and tumbling backwards out of the bed.

Michael's quick reflexes caught her, his hand grasping her own and steadying her so that nothing besides her feet hit the floor. "Are you okay?" He asked, forgetting to whisper.

But Hailey didn't answer, her eyes growing wide as Sydney stirred.

"M-Michael," Sydney mumbled. She woke when she no longer felt him against her, though not because of his jerky movement. Simply because there was a sudden void, he wasn't there.

"Go back to sleep, baby," he whispered gently, giving her a quick kiss. But she was awake and had spotted the little girl at their bedside.

"Hey, sweetie," Syd murmured, her soft sweet voice not one their daughter had heard for awhile. "Did you have a bad dream?"

Hailey could only nod, wordlessly holding out her arms to her mother like she used to when she was a baby. Sydney reached over, and Michael helped her lift the little girl onto the bed.

"I'm sorry I waked you up," Hailey whispered, settling between her parents. "Daddy said you're tired." She looked confused, scared, almost; unaware that everything was now okay, that the slightest of movements wouldn't set her mother off.

"Oh, sweetie," Sydney mumbled, gathering the little girl into her arms. "You don't have to be sorry for something silly like that."

"Really?"

"Really." Sydney was beginning to understand now. There were some things that didn't need apologizing, but for others, there weren't enough ways to show your guilt and sorrow.

"You're not mad?" Hailey asked, leaning back and looking into her mother's eyes, knowing she'd find the truth there.

"No, Hailey." She had never been man, really. But it was difficult to explain the intricacies of pain and emotion to a little girl, nearly impossible for grown men and women to muddle their way through them as it was. "But I am sorry. I love you, and your brothers, and your daddy very, very much, and I've been doing a bad job of showing that."

"It's okay, Mommy. You were sad."

Her Daddy had explained it to her before, and little Hailey had it all figured out. She remembered how sad she had been when she had lost her favorite bracelet at the playground, and how she had hit Jonny afterwards, even though he had done nothing wrong. As far as she was concerned, sadness was the only explanation that was needed.

"Yeah, I was. But that doesn't make it okay. I'm going to try to be better from now on."

Sydney wished she could promise that she would, knew she would do anything in her power to be. But she knew that all she or anyone else could ever do was try. And if really did try her best, it wouldn't matter that she hadn't outright promised that she would be better, she would be, just by trying.

"You can't," Hailey stated, shaking her head. Sydney's face fell for only a moment before her daughter continued. "You already are the best. And Daddy, too."

In Sydney and Michael's eyes, their little girl couldn't have been more perfect. She knew just what to do and say. In any other child, it might have been brownnosing or a convenient lie. But they knew she meant every word she said.

Sydney hugged her daughter tightly while Michael brushed her hair behind her ear and kissed her little cheek. When he pulled back, he saw Hailey yawn sleepily. "I think it's time to go to sleep."

"Can I still sleep here for a little bit?" Hailey asked, glancing from her father to her mother.

"Of course," Michael answered, and Sydney nodded in agreement.

He kissed his daughter once more and leaned over to his wife, intent on giving her a quick peck goodnight. But his lips lingered on hers, remembering and loving the feel of the smooth skin against his own.

Hailey's head bolted off her mother's shoulder, her sleepiness forgotten. "You kissed!" she exclaimed. "Do it again!"

Michael laughed softly, and Sydney's lips curved upwards in the beginnings of a smile, her first genuine one in ages. But both adults were more than willing to follow their daughter's demand and remove that smile from Sydney's lips. The second kiss was just as sweet and quick as the first one; their daughter was watching, after all.

"And now it's time to go to sleep," Michael stated when they pulled apart.

Hailey nodded. "Before you two start getting it on."

"Hailey! Where did you…?!" Sydney began.

"I can't!" the little girl cried, leaning back and shaking her head vigorously. "Uncle Eric made me promise not to tell…"

"I'm gonna kill him…" Michael mused, stewing. And if the clock by his bed hadn't read 2:47, he would have picked up the phone right then and there and given his friend a piece of his mind.

"He said it by mistake," Hailey added, trying to smooth things over. "And wouldn't tell me what it meaned. What…?"

"It means kissing a lot," Sydney explained hastily. "But don't say it again."

"Is it bad? Like shi…"

"No," Sydney cut in quickly.

"It's just not something you should say," Michael tried to help her explain.

"Oh…" Hailey yawned again, "…kay."

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Michael murmured, and Sydney kissed the little girl as they all lay back.

"Night…" Hailey mumbled before closing her eyes, the scariness of her dream completely forgotten now that she was safe in her mother and father's arms.

Silence ticked throughout the room, the minutes passing steadily, but seeming not to at all. The little girl quickly dropped off, sighing and already beginning to move in her sleep. Michael didn't move an inch, afraid to blink or even breathe. He knew what it felt like to have his life shattered, to have the bottom dropped out from beneath him, and didn't want to risk losing this moment, thought that if he so much as moved, it would tumble out from under him.

Sydney was so quiet and still that Michael was sure she must be sleeping, and finally willed himself to move, sitting up carefully and trying to disentangle his daughter from her mother's arms.

"Do you have to bring her back?" he heard Sydney whisper. Her voice startled him for a moment, flowing smoothly and perfectly instead of shrouded with sleep. She had still been awake after all, quietly sharing the moment with him.

"Neither of us will get any sleep the way she moves around," he whispered gently back to her. "And, baby, you're still exhausted." Michael tried to pick up the little girl once again, but Sydney still had her arms around her.

"I just want to hold her…" she murmured, and Michael saw the fear moving back into her eyes, the fear that she had pushed away while their little girl was awake. "…while I still can."

"Syd, you'll have her to hold tomorrow, and all the days after that." He understood her fear. It was the same fear he lived with, the same one had to block out everyday in order to live. "She's not going anywhere, and neither are you."

"You don't know that, Michael."

It wasn't something he could promise or guarantee. There wasn't any contract he could sign his name to that would will it to be so. But that was life, both good and the bad. Most of the time, there would be no one to blame, no one to thank, no one to apologize to or go after...

"Neither of us do. But I can't live my whole life worrying about things that could or might happen, wondering about tomorrow. That's no way for anybody to live, Syd."

…But there would always be someone to love, to hold, to celebrate or cry with. That, too, was part of the life everyone lives, the part that gets most people up in the morning and lets them sleep at night…

"I… I know." And she let go, giving the little girl over to her father's waiting arms.

…Because no matter what happened, who was there to help or to hurt, it was all life, jumbled up in a not-so-tidy package; sometimes tied with a satiny ribbon, sometimes hastily wrapped with duct tape and the front page of the newspaper. But he unwrapped it anyway, and so did she. And more times than not, neither of them would want to return that package for anything in the world.

"I'll be right back," Michael promised, a promise he could keep, tiptoeing with his daughter from the room. As much as he loved Hailey, he wasn't going to let anything come between him and Sydney that night. The little girl's monsters had been easily vanquished; she was sleeping peacefully and would continue to until morning.

But there were still a few monsters lurking in the corners of Sydney's dreams. And those were a little trickier than the bad men of a four-year-old's nightmares. They would be harder to find and draw out, harder to beat from her completely. But he could try. He could still hold her in his arms.

He gently tucked Hailey back into bed. She mumbled something unintelligible as she grabbed her teddy bear and curled back into a deep sleep. Before returning to his room, Michael stopped at the twins', lingering there a few moments and watching his boys sleep.

When he finally turned to go back to his own room, he found himself face to face with Sydney, her sudden appearance frightening him. But she quickly brought up a hand to smother his startled yelp, some habits too ingrained to be lost.

He kissed her palm, not bothering to ask her why she hadn't stayed in bed. He knew what her answer would have been and didn't want to see her flush with the embarrassment of having to admit her fears and insecurities.

Without a word, he took her hand and led her back to bed, his side of the bed. Without a word, she got in, snuggling against him as he joined her under the covers. Without a word, fingers, arms, and legs entwined as both drifted off to sleep.

Because any words they could have uttered wouldn't have been exactly right, wouldn't have been able to show what emotion and action could. Not a word was needed to know that everything was now going to be all right.


The End