Open Case File [COMPLETED]

Not Alone (Part .5)

When I have rough weeks the easiest thing for me to write are emotionally distressing chapters. So if you feel like being depressed then go ahead and read this. If you want to know why this is so depressing then you'll have to read the previous parts to this chapter.

I'm legit not joking, you know how the last one had a good ending, this one doesn't.

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Donovan lay stretched out on the living couch, staring up at the ceiling. He hated the night.

He'd never known a person could hate the night but he did. He hated the empty darkness. He hated the lonely shadows that crawled across the floor. Hated the gaping silence. He hated it.

He hadn't been able to sleep in their bed since he first heard the news.

He hadn't been able to sleep.

Sleep meant tormenting dreams. For in the dreams Carter still lived which meant that reality was his nightmare.

He never wanted to sleep again.

A soft cry drew Donovan out of his listless state. He sat up, listening. The childlike cry came again. Throwing aside his blanket, he climbed off the couch and walked to Kennedy's room. Inside, Kennedy whimpered. Donovan knelt by her bed, stroking her hair.

"Cadet," he whispered his voice horse from lack of use.

Kennedy woke up.

"Did you have a bad dream?" he asked.

Kennedy nodded. Donovan lifted his daughter into his arms. Together they sat in the stillness, Donovan holding Kennedy tight.

"I miss mommy."

Donovan felt his throat constrict and tears spilled out before he even realized they were there. He kissed Kennedy's hair.

"I miss Mommy too," he said. "Do you want to talk about your bad dream?"

After a brief pause, Kennedy shook her head.

"Can you go back to sleep?"

Again Kennedy hesitated. Donovan understood.

"I'll hold you until you fall asleep, that way you won't have bad dreams again."

Kennedy accepted this, closing her eyes, safe in her father's protective arms. Donovan listened to his daughter's breathing, hearing the moment when it deepened as she drifted off. For a long time, he remained holding her, not wanting to be alone.

But when Kennedy shifted like she wanted to roll over, Donovan tucked her into her blankets and kissed her head.

Back in the living room, Donovan sank onto the couch. He didn't lie down, even though he felt beyond the point of exhaustion. He couldn't bear to close his eyes. Instead, he laid his head back, waiting for the morning to come.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he noticed movement. He raised his head and froze.

Carter sat on the coffee table before him.

Donovan stopped breathing. She looked beautiful with her hair loose and wild, falling over one shoulder. She was barefoot and wore ripped jeans and one of his shirts.

It was his Carter.

His heart swelled to the point he feared it might explode.

"Carter," he croaked.

She smiled at him and he reached out, touching her face. She closed her eyes, leaning into his hand. She felt warm and alive.

He was crying again, but he didn't care, she was there. She was sitting right in front of him. She was back.