A Slender Child

Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A high pitched wail pierced the night. I groaned and rolled over to bury my face in Slendy's chest.

"Your daughter is crying," Slendy grumbled.

"Before six am she's your daughter," I replied just as sleepily, but I sighed. Somehow I managed to drag myself out of bed at about the speed of molasses and stumble my way down the hall towards Robin's nursery.

"Aw, Robin sweetie, what's wrong? Why're you waking Mommy and Daddy up so early?" I mumbled softly as I picked her up. She squirmed in my arms and I tucked her comfortingly against my breast. Softly I patted her back and bounced her up and down. "Shhh, hush now baby," I cooed softly. Eventually her screams quieted to small fussy noises and she stopped squirming around quite as much. Softly, I began to sing to her. I'd never been much of a singer really, but Robin didn't seem to mind. The tiny person in my arms slowly stilled and drifted back to sleep. Her little eyelids fluttered from whatever she was seeing in her dreams and I couldn't help but smile at the sight. She was so beautiful.

Even in the dark nursery you could tell that the week old infant was exceedingly pale - even for a newborn. Her alabaster skin was barely tanner than her fathers and little dark black hairs covered her head. Her features seemed to resemble my own when I was a baby except for the thin little nose - that, like her complexion, was her fathers. Even while she slept, I could still remember her eyes. Those eyes... they were eyes that could stare into your soul, eyes that could get her anything she'd ever want, eyes that would have all the boys wrapped around her little finger one day. They were ghost eyes - somewhere between ice blue and grey - and startling sharp for a newborn.

Gently I laid the little pale beauty back in her cradle and attempted not to wake her as I snuck back out into the hallway and back to bed. Arms encircled my waist and lips pressed against my hair as I climbed under the covers.

"I figured you would've gone back to sleep once she stopped crying," I murmured, eyes already closed - I was so unbelievably exhausted. Robin insisted on waking at all hours of the night, every night, and even though it had only been a matter of days since we'd brought her home, I was already having a hard time coping with the lack of sleep.

"The bed wasn't as comfortable without you," he replied softly, his voice barely audible.

I smiled. "Well I'm here now, and the baby's asleep for at least a couple more hours."

"Thank God," he grumbled and I chuckled softly.

"Mhm..." I agreed. Parenting was great and all, but damn I missed sleeping...

I must have drifted off then, because suddenly I wasn't in bed any more, but rather standing in the middle of a large grassy meadow. Some part of me chuckled silently - it kinda looked like the meadow from "Twilight".

The wind felt warm on my skin and the sun was hidden behind the clouds above me. It occurred to me briefly that I was dreaming, but I didn't linger on that detail for too long - I was too busy staring in awe at the pale little girl of about six that came running at me from the tree line across the meadow. I'd never seen this girl before, but somehow, in my dream state, I knew that it was Robin.

A smile started to split my face and I knelt to open my arms and embrace my daughter, but froze when the atmosphere changed.

Instantly I knew something was wrong, but I wasn't sure what. I just had an acute instinct to protect my daughter - from everything.

I woke with a start and sat up. "The fuck?" I whispered, panicked and disoriented.

"What is it?" the mumble came from somewhere in the dark beside me.

I shook my head slowly, waiting for my pulse to slow. 'Get a grip Steele,' my subconscious chided me.

"Nothing," I finally said. "Nothing but a bad dream."

"Don't worry little one," he said as he pulled me to him, "I'll protect you. Always."

'But it's not me I'm afraid for...' I thought, but I didn't say it out loud. The dream had meant nothing I was sure - just the product of my knew maternal instincts. I remembered my own mother telling me about such nightmares. She always said the worst dreams where the ones where my brother or I was in trouble. I took a deep breath as I settled back into Slendy's arms. 'Everything's alright,' I told myself. 'Robin's not in trouble.'

'Yet...' My subconscious whispered.