Together (Demi Lovato Adoption)

Chapter Eight

DEMI'S POV

"Demi? Demi!"

I could feel myself being shaken awake by a small figure in the middle of the night. I blearily opened my eyes to see a crying Sam. I pushed myself up and furrowed my eyebrows in confusion at the girl.

"I was bad," Sam cried, covering her face with her hands. 

I felt my heart break. "What happened Sammy? You weren't bad, you're not in trouble, don't worry." I tried to soothe the crying child by opening my arms up into a hug but she scooted away from me. As much as it hurt me, I understood why she was scared. If she thought she did something bad she would be terrified of what my reaction would be.

Sam shook her head, wiping a tear from her chin. She grabbed my hand and lead me to her bedroom, pointing at a wet patch on the bed.

"You wet the bed?" I asked for clarification. Sam nodded sadly, her expression showing me how scared she was.

"It's okay, Sam, it happens. Come on, let's get you changed and then get you back to bed."

Sam nodded and followed me to her dresser, where I pulled out a new set of underwear and pyjamas, placing them on end of her bed where it wasn't wet. 

"Arms up," I said with a smile, reaching for her shirt so that I could put a new one on. Instead of obeying, Sam looked at me in horror. Her bottom lip quivered and she sat down on the floor, curling herself into a ball. I mentally slapped myself — I should have known she would be too scared to have me change her. 

"Peese! I know I was bad, but I don't want you to make me hurt!" Sam cried, hiding her face in her knees. 

"No, no, Sam, I'm not going to hurt you. I was only going to change you so you wouldn't be uncomfortable. I can leave and you can change yourself if you want?"

Sam lifted her head and blinked her eyes, causing a few more stray tears to fall. She nodded and I quickly left the room, closing the door behind me. 

"Let me know when its okay for me to come back in okay?" I said to her through the door. I heard a faint sound of agreeance and I waited for the three-year-old to call out for me. 

Checking the time on my watch, I noticed that it was nearly 3 am. Hoping I hadn't accidentally woken her up, I looked at Ellie's door to check that there was no movement coming from her room. I couldn't help but notice the light coming from underneath the teenager's door, causing me to walk over to her door, lightly knocking on it.

"Yeah?" I heard a small voice call. 

I opened the door, looking straight at Ellie who had her head glued to her notebook. She didn't even bother to look up at me when I entered the room — instead, she kept her hand moving quickly down the page. 

"Whatcha doin'?" I asked tiredly, my voice hoarse. 

"Writing." Ellie responded, still not looking up. "You sound tired. You should sleep." 

I had to resist the urge to scoff. "So should you, missy."

"Why?" Ellie said absentmindedly. "It's not even that late."

"Ellie, it's nearly three in the morning." I deadpanned. 

"Oh. It is?" Finally, Ellie broke her gaze from her notebook to look up at me. "I didn't realise."

"I'll say."

"Sorry. Did I wake you up?"

"No, Sam did. She wet the bed."

"Aw. Is she alright?"

"I think so. I upset her a bit, but I think she's over it now."

"Oh, that's good."