Lindsey had been cradling Stevie since Carol left. Bianca's babysitter came to pick her up, so they had Stevie's whole apartment to themselves.
Stevie laid with her head on his chest. He couldn't keep himself from taking in every inch of her. This had been the first time in years that she had been near each other while sober.
"I still can't believe that you'd do that for me." she whispered.
"And why's that, babe?"
"I thought you were still uneasy with me... Did you just call me babe?"
"I can stop if you want."
"No. I don't mind it. It's just..." She paused, "been a while."
"Too long."
----
Bianca and her babysitter arrived around 7 that night. The child was exhausted and was half asleep before Angela brought her through the door.
Stevie held the toddler, looking down at her perfect angel. Her curly dirty blonde hair. Her fair skin. Everything about her was, perfect.
Lindsey wrapped his arms around his girls. Watching Stevie's motherly instinct kick in had made him love her even more than before. Motherhood looked good on her.
Lindsey watched Stevie put their child in the crib. She slowly backed out of the perfectly pink room, grasping his hand. Taking it and placing it on her cheek.
The slowly creeped down the hall to her, their, bedroom. Both exhausted, they drifted into a well deserved slumber.
---
He awoke to screams. Shrills and shrieks. One that was all too familiar. One that was of pain that he'd hear when she would cry out of anguish and suffering.
The next thing he heard was a crash. Metal hitting the floor.
He raced down the hallway, down towards Bianca's room. He saw Stevie, trembling while holding a pink blanket.
"What's wrong."
She tried to tell him something of significant importance, but couldn't make anything out between the sobs. He looked to the crib. Nothing. The books were thrown off the shelves. Then the wall:
"You're whore child is mine now. -C"
