


Underworld: Uprising

by artemisgoddess16



Category: Underworld
Genre: Adventure, Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2006-12-23
Updated: 2008-08-14
Packaged: 2013-10-30 09:38:00
Rating: M
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,143
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3303517/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/955279/artemisgoddess16
Summary: Selene and Micheal have a huge fight and Michael leaves for good. Can their daughter Danica be their saving grace? that is if she doesn't get killed in the process. summary sucks but story great. please read. IN PROGRESS





	1. Prolouge

Manhattan, New York

1985

"I hate you, you smug son of a bitch!" Here they were again, screeching at each other at the top of their lungs over something stupid. Selene honestly just wanted to murder Michael however she was stopped with the aggravatingly rational thoughts of your in a hotel room in New York with an extremely volatile Hybrid.

"Fine if you hate me so much Selene, the death dealer," he said with potent sarcasm. "Why don't I just leave? Would that make you happy?"

"Extremely," she replied viciously.

"Guess what Selene you got your wish, I'm leaving," she stared at him with mild shock.

"You're not serious. Michael you don't-"

"Whatever it is I don't care, I'm leaving good-bye Selene." A feeble sounding Michael was all that left her lips, and he was gone. Selene slowly sunk to the floor, realizing the seriousness of his departure. She never shed one tear, just sat on the floor trying to comprehend how it had gone so wrong until a new life called to the world.

Baton Rouge, Louisiana

2008

Danica was hanging out the window of the apartment she shared with her mother in Louisiana. She freshly 21 and couldn't wait to go on an adventure like her mother had done so long ago with her "non-existent" father. Her mother walked in and sat on the couch just lazing around. "Hey mom" she said with the utmost curiosity. "Is it true that you used to be a death dealer? Aunt Erika was here the other day and told me about it. She said that you were absolutely horrible and killed as many Lycan as you could until..." Danica took a deep breath, she wasn't allowed to mention her father or her mother would go into raging fits and destroy everything in sight or disappear for days on end only to show up covered in Lycan blood with tears streaming down her face. Selene glared fiercely at the table in front of her as if willing it to self combust right in front of her.

"Yes, I was. One of the best, until..." The conversation ground to a screaming halt; there weren't any Lycan near here that her mother could kill. Danica watched Selene a little concerned by her attitude, but it made her decide on tonight to begin her adventure. Selene left the room and Danica resumed watching out her window. She thought the sun's colors were bleeding beautifully into the horizon, begging her to grab her paint supplies and start painting. It let her escape for a brief moment, to wallow her talent; art was her passion, her fire, her very being. After the sun trickled its last faint rays into the earth finally Danica heard her mother leave, she packed the little necessities she had and grabbed the keys to her Mercedes Guardian, her car only by her mother's insistence. She loved it regardless of the many over taxing safety features since it was a _very fast_ car. Danica got in and started the engine delighting in its purr. "Well" she said, "Off to find daddy dearest." She floored it, not giving any more thought to how her mother would react to the note she left or how much serious trouble she'd be in. '_I just need to find him mom. I need to know my dad.'_


	2. Ch1 Feedings and Greetings

Ch.1 Feedings and Greetings

Just outside Chatanooga, Tennessee

2008

I had been driving for three days straight and was hungry, no scratch that. I was ravenous. '_Well there's the good old option of finding a human and feeding but that's too much work for such a big, hardly populated place. Hmmm maybe there are grizzlies in this poor mountain range town.' _I parked the car in some trees, not taking a chance of getting my baby stolen. I crouched low and studied the tracks on the forest ground. Sure enough my prey had walked right through there not even 15 minutes before. Her mouth spread open in a menacing grin; animals were not exactly what she liked to eat. At least it was better than slaughtering the unsuspecting townsfolk and, it was a much quicker kill for her. I sniffed and found exactly what I needed.

My feet deftly moved across the ground at speeds far surpassing humans. I pounced on the grizzly and swiftly snapped its neck on sight. I had to drink quickly ignoring the flashes of the grizzlies' dull life. When I was done I dropped the corpse and cleaned my mouth with a handkerchief wiping some of the vile tasting blood onto it. '_Just because I drink animal's blood does not mean I like animal's blood. YUCK!' _I ran back to the car and drove finding a seedy bar on the side of the road. I got out of the car and calmly walked in scanning the faces for one that looked mildly like mine. Aunt Erika had always said it was Selene's curse to have a daughter that looked so much like Michael.

I sat at one of the empty bar stools contemplating how stupid this "adventure" was. I had no idea what my father looked like, didn't have a picture, an address, or a phone number. All I had was the name Michael Corvin and a description that said he looks like me. '_Maybe I should just go home and beg mom's forgiveness. This was a stupid thing to do very, very stupid.'_ I paused from my musings when a man came up to me and asked what I was running from.

"I beg your pardon; I am not running form anything." I replied hotly and looked down at his tag to see what the idiot's name was. The man chuckled and moved his arm into her line of vision.

"Look I don't know what a pretty ,young girl like you is doing here ,but people like you only come in here looking for someone or to get away from something. You look too much like a loner to need someone, so what are you trying to forget?" I became furious with the stranger and replied with a grating reluctance.

"As a matter of fact, even though it's none of _your business_ I did come here looking for someone." I moved his arm out of my way "So _Michael_ if it's all the same to you, I think you should go-" I stopped myself. "Wait Michael, as in Michael Corvin?" The man smiled at me warmly.

"Yeah, that's me, was I what you were looking for?"


	3. Ch2 Set up and Strung up

Ch.2 Set up and strung up

A/N: sorry real quick here, for those who actually read this thank you for being so patient with me. I'm trying to be better honest, but it's really hard after a while. Hope you like the update, byes

Now honestly you'd think that a well-bred, decently mannered young Vampire, Lycan hybrid would have been able to string together a more kosher response than the one that slipped past my lips. "You're who?" I asked redundantly and quite stupidly.

"Michael Corvin and you would be?" He asked with a deceptively cryptic smile.

"You're umm... you're my umm..." I had the grace left in me to at least drop his arm. I genuinely hoped that the small courtesy would make up for my rather scattered diction. "You, you're uh..." My hand slammed the table as the first coherent sentence came to me. "I'm looking for a job!" I yelled almost deafeningly into his face. People even started to stare, but I kept my eyes firmly on him.

"Oh, really?" He asked with a lilt of actual curiosity in his tone. "Exactly what would that job be? I wouldn't guess telemarketer since you obviously have trouble with forming a sentence."

My temper flared at his insolent words, but I wisely reined in my tongue. (See mom, I CAN be an adult.) "My diction is fine thank you, but I was looking more along the lines of bartender or maybe waitress. I was thinking of moving here and I require money, which requires a job to do that. My mother won't even let me move here until she knows I'm set up well." It felt weird to lie to my supposed father, but I guess I was going to have to get cushy with that little fact or at least be less disgusted by it.

"Your mother sounds very protective." He just said it conversationally but I felt compelled to answer him.

"You have no idea." It sounded a little morbid even to me so I tried to laugh it off lightly. A thought occurred to me then, maybe he actually did know he had a daughter, but he was just too scared to look for her thinking that mom would hurt him. So, in my natural stupidity I gingerly tested the subject. "Umm Michael is it? Do you have any children yourself?" Yes, it was hopelessly blunt, but god I hoped he knew.

"Nope, never had one in my entire life." My hopes almost died with that answer, but here's to blind optimism. I probed again just like any good, long-lost daughter would do.

"Ever had a serious enough relationship where there could have been kids?" I asked.

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes at one point I did." My heart almost hit the ceiling as he said it.

"If you don't mind me asking what was her name?" I barely could get the question out, even as a whisper.

"Selene" he said calmly, but there was a touch of heartbreak in his eyes, like a wound that never quite heals all the way. "But, that turned out to be just a pipe dream. She was too adventurous, too ready for the next big thing, too unsafe to have a kid."

I chuckled softly at his words, he had no freaking clue that I even existed, that I would even be a possibility. Even though I didn't even know him, somewhere deep inside me that hurt a hell of a lot.

"Let me guess, eventually you called it quits and ended up slamming the door in her face." I knew exactly what saying that would do to him, and I did it anyway damn it. He left her, hurt her and didn't even have the decency to pick up a phone and ask her if she was ok. I wanted to return a bit of the favor, even if he had no idea why.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. She was ready and I wasn't. We grew apart, it happens sometimes." He said it lightly but I caught a glimpse of that old heartbreak again.

"Whatever, anyway do you know of any place hiring? Remember, I do need a job." The ice in my voice was almost palpable; at least I had learned something intimidating from my mom. I was tired and the goody-girl interrogation was getting old and fast. I wanted a decent hotel and I wanted it now.

"Well my little icicle, there's here and Louie's RX just down the road." He said with mock sarcasm.

I didn't like this gritty bar, but I would not, could not work anywhere that smelled like antiseptic and bleach. The bar was definitely the better option even if it smelled like beer, cigarettes, and other unmentionables. "Well Michael, are you in charge of hiring?"

He quirked his eyebrow and looked at me oddly. "No" he said simply.

I smiled sweetly at him, "then i'll see you Monday when I start." I walked to the exit calmly and was almost out the door when he called me back.

"Wait, I need your name a least, young, mysterious woman who is looking for someone." His voice was irritatingly teasing, but I decided he at least deserved that much.

"My name is Danica, Danica Cor-Cortis" I barely slipped but it was enough for another eyebrow quirk from him.

"Danica..." the name seemed to roll on his tongue like a sweet candy."I always liked that name, I even wanted to name the first daughter I had, that name."

It was just too much; I turned on my heel and plunged in to the cold mountain air. It was stupid really, a name is insignificant, something to keep every one from just being hey you. Even though I knew that I was still crying, like a baby, in the parking lot of a god forsaken piece of land in the mountains because of one name. You can call me a coward all you want, but right then all I wanted was my mommy, even if she was going to kill me for this stunt.


	4. Ch 3 Interviewing and Interrogating

Chapter 3: Interviewing and Interrogating

_Chapter 3: Interviewing and Interrogating_

_A/N: I have not explanation for the long wait, I'm just plain lazy. I've probably lost all of my readers by now, but thanks if you stayed and waited me out._

'Note to self; never leave a wake up call for noon, the front desk will be pissed you made them miss lunch.' I arose from my hotel bed expecting pitch forks to be rammed into my skull by the crabby front desk lady. Usually I don't leave wake up calls at all, because in a town this small, my sleeping hours could only be described as that of a hooker. Add in the fancy car as well and people got very suspicious. However I had broken my own rule for today's special occasion. I was going to get a job where Michael worked. I say going to get, because I can be a really annoying pain in the ass when I want something. I'd scrub toilets for a chance to get to know Michael better. On second thought maybe not toilets, but definitely a dirty counter.

I found it absolutely astounding that one building could look very seedy and sleazy the first time you see it, yet come back later and it looks like a genuine piece of crap. I must have been getting fond of the place to only degrade its description that far. Michael most likely wanted to keep off the radar, but jeez this place looked like there was no such thing as cleanliness and hygiene. It was dirty hermits galore.

Michael wasn't working when I went into the dilapidated building. I had to ask, hands down, the most sexually deviant man I have ever met where the back office was. After giving him a sturdy kick in between the legs and a good suggestion of where he could put his 'big pointer' I made my way into the office.

It was surprisingly neat compared to all the squalor surrounding it. There was a certain _Je ne sais quoi _that made it filthy instead of revoltingly unsanitary. The man behind the desk was even presentable, possibly even hot on a good day.

"Can I help you?" Smooth, southern honey flowed from those lips. My legs went infuriatingly weak.

"Yes, umm I don't know if Michael told you already or not, but my name is Danica Courtis, i'm looking for a job here." His eyebrow quirked up adorably.

"Why do you want a job here? The pharmacy is much cleaner, less rowdy, and hiring. They're just down the street, I could give you directions." I squared my shoulders, getting ready for a fight.

"Cleaning and medical supplies burn my nose and make me sick; I want a job as a bartender here." The man looked me over and laughed actually _laughed _in my face. I resisted the urge to tear his face off valiantly, however my hand seemed to develop a mighty twitch as I did so.

"What's so funny about that? Don't you have any other female workers?" His face sobered immediately.

"No, we don't since they had the sense that god gave little apples to stay away from this place." I went from feeling insulted to completely outraged for my gender. Girls could be just as tough as boys, especially Vampire/Lycan hybrid girls.

"You can't refuse to hire me, that's gender discrimination."

"Didn't say I wasn't going to hire you, I was just warning you of what your getting into compared to what you think you're getting into. Bartenders double as bouncers here, you'll have to break up fights on a regular basis while making sure no one steals the drinks while you and Michael are breaking the men up." Now it was I who laughed in his face. My mom had drilled violence in me, practically imbedded it into my DNA. I could handle a few drunken jerks easily, it was only if someone broke skin that I would have a problem, but if Michael could handle it, so could I.

"I can handle it, tell me when I start." He still looked at me a little skeptically.

"I want you to go against Michael first, make sure you're sturdy as you say." He must really not want me to have this job if he was pairing Michael against me. Michael would no doubt be the strongest man in town, even if he hadn't displayed his full strength, it still would've impressed the hell out of this man.

"Sure, but just to warn you, I am going to win, so start making up my schedule." The man just grinned at me, trying to hide a secret smile.


	5. Ch 4 Vices and Victories

Chapter 4: Vices and Victories

Chapter 4: Vices and Victories

Since Michael wouldn't be at work for another few hours, strictly being the night shift guy, I decided to spend my time asking around as opposed to waiting for him. Sure, enough I found my target quickly. It was only natural that the town gossiper would be at the most popular place in town. Sandy's Super Salon was nearly packed with cheeping chicks. I quietly made my way to the back of the salon, trying to be unnoticeable. I failed miserably. The gentle hum that had been prevalent now erupted in whispered judgments to neighbors about _me_.

"Oh would you look at-"

"She must be new-"

"Looks sick in a all that black-"

"Think Nate will like her?"

"Could be the spitting image of Michael-"

Unable to answer the annoying gossip, since I wasn't supposed to hear them, I contented myself with sitting in the chair next to the woman who said I looked like Michael. Maybe she would know the most out of all these women, since she immediately thought of him after seeing me.

I smiled encouragingly to the old little woman next to me. She was pruned enough to be in a raisins commercial. It was odd to look at her for any amount of time, Selene never aged, and the only people Selene trusted to be around me where also vampires like her. The only time I had ever seen an old human was from afar, watching out the window of any apartment or hotel my mother and I were sharing. It was fascinating in the most macabre ways, the way her skin was dried and creased, how her eyes took on a more milky shade than the rest of the younger patrons, how shriveled and small this old body was, became unusually interesting. I couldn't think of why on earth it would be there had been 3 or 4 old men in the bar that I didn't scrutinize this closely.

It hit me with a rush that forced me to take a few harsher breaths than necessary. She looked like me, well I guess not me in particular, but she had the same basic facial structure as Michael, which I had also inherited from him or her rather. It was almost myself in profile, if I were a shrunken head in profile, but still the resemblance was unnatural. It was then in my musings that the old lady decided to notice my rude stare.

"Can I help you little girl?" Her southern accent was purposely hard-hitting, and the way she looked at me over those ancient glasses wasn't to reassuring either. I dropped my head in a show of meek embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, it's just you look at lot like someone I know, his name is Michael Corvin. Have you met him?" The whispers and her glare increased. "I should think so; he is _my son_ after all."

Her looks and bones structure had told me as much, but it still took my breath away to know she was my grandmother, even if like Michael, she didn't know it.

"Oh, well that's interesting; I've never met any of his family before." I could tell by the absolutely dead silence that was the wrong answer to say. I was terrible with interacting with humans. It was easy to talk about dismemberment or painting, but normal small talk had me cowering behind my mother. My fingers found the way to my mouth without thought; I started chewing on my nails in a frustrating show of nervousness. It would do no good to let her have the upper hand.

"Stop that!" I cringed at the sound; it was almost like a shriek in the hushed room.

"Biting your nails is a horrible vice that I won't have in this salon, now stop it or get out."

I scampered out of the salon with discomforting haste, just barely keeping within the human limits. I couldn't have been more mortified if I had tried. There was one silver lining to the experience; if she and Selene ever met, I was sure they'd love each other. Deciding I was much too close to a childish temper tantrum, complete with tears, wailing and putting a hole in the sidewalk, I sat down with my back to a brick building and put my head between my knees. I wasn't going to let that horrible woman get the better of me, even if she didn't like me Michael might still.

The tears made a quiet path down my face, topping of the excruciating afternoon with a flood of water works. It was ridiculous to think that Michael would base his opinion on me solely on what his mother said, he was an independent man for crying out loud. It was another embarrassing moment when I realized he was an independent man, he could live anywhere, go any place, and he had decided to stay in this dinky little town with his mother. I was screwed 16 ways to hell. If he moved here for her then he would naturally trust her judgment of me; a stupid little girl with bitten fingernails that liked to stare rudely at old ladies.

I was just seconds away from wailing and putting my fist through the bricks at my back, when someone tapped on my shoulder. I clawed my way up from my misery to raise my head and look at whoever decided to bother the insane girl crying on the ground.

"You really are pretty high maintenance, you know that?" It was him, it was Michael.

"What do you think of me?" I blurted out the question with absolutely no preamble or tact and I loathed myself for it. I began to correct myself as he spoke.

"I think that while you're very, very bad tempered and sometimes rude, but you're also a nice person under all that mean spirited gunk. Otherwise you'd be ripping of the boy's head that hurt you, instead of crying behind the auto shop." He thought I was crying over a _boy_? Like some stupid immature chimpanzee could hurt me. I was crying about a stupid old woman's judgment, which as I realized that in my head, I knew it was dumber than crying over the chimp. Michael was a big boy; he could have his own thoughts of me.

"Don't let the bastards get you down okay kid?" It took me one fourth of a millisecond to realize he had called me kid. Yes, it was generic, yeah; he probably said it to everyone younger than him, of course it was nothing to get excited about. However that didn't stop me from springing up and launching myself into his surprised arms. My entire bad day went away, like I was holding my favorite paintbrush to my chest and not a person. I felt secure, almost wanted in his akward grip.

"Thanks" I smiled at him with flaming cheeks as I stepped away from him. That was much to forward for a stranger, and I couldn't stomach being thought of as a girl with a crush, it was so _wrong_.

"So, umm, the uh owner of the bar wants you to fight me." At his even more baffled expression I explained.

"He said to prove I was tough enough for the job I had to fight you. You just wanna go over there now and do it? You know, to get it over with?" My cheeks became flares as I recognized my double meaning but he just nodded and led the way forward. I jogged up beside him and resisted holding his hand that would have given everyone a very, very wrong idea.

When we got to the bar boss-man, as I called him for not knowing his name, led us to the second level of the structure. It almost looked like a gym with mirrors on the wall and a new-looking hard wood floor. At my confused glance around the room Michael explained that boss-man rented the place out to ballet teachers, they used the back fire escape to get up here, instead of wading through the nasty bar.

Michael and I stretched in a similar way to get ready for the fight. It seemed not all of my mothers influence had been a lost cause on either of us. At Boss-man's signal we attacked. Michael tried to be gentle and cringed every time he tried to hit me. I had him on his back 5 times before boss-man blew the whistle at us.

"Alright _Danica_" he said my name with the special sort of reluctance. "You can start on Monday, Michael make her a copy of your schedule. I feel bad for those drunks just watching you two." I smiled smugly in boss-man's direction and waited till he left the studio for me to erupt in my victory dance filled with childish bouncing and squeaking. I paused to look over my shoulder at Michael. He seemed to be staring at me intently, trying to find a puzzle piece he just realized was missing. I ran through a quick good-bye and practically leapt down the stairs in glee. I wasn't going to tell Michael, however if he figured it out on his own, well then, that was entirely his own fault wasn't it?


	6. Ch 5 Mixing and Memories

Ch

Ch. 5 Mixing and memories

"Alright, so today is your one and only drink mixing class." I rolled my eyes at him. Of course I knew that, I had been the one to ask him to teach me. It had come out a little blurred in an embarrassed rush after waiting for 20 minutes in the cold weather for him to exit the bar. I could probably fix all of their drinks in my sleep; I had attended a bartending course for my 21st birthday, graduated top of my class. This was basically to show Michael watching out for my drinks was unnecessary and it was the perfect excuse to browse his apartment.

"Hey! Danica!" He started waving his hands in my face to break me out of my thoughts. I stared blankly at him.

"You see, that's just the kind of thing you can't do with a customer. They expect service and they expect it fast. Half the time they don't even care if their drink is right as long as one is in their hand." I nodded trying to seem interested. Again this was stuff I knew; moving around a lot gave me the opportunity to work lots of places. High class drunks were only different in the amounts they paid, not in how fast they wanted their drinks.

My eyes roved over Michael's apartment for possibly the fifth time. The apartment was very neat, almost bare like a hotel room, nothing reflecting personal taste at all. Everything was perfectly in place. It gave me the horrible urge to mess everything up. I wanted to do things like moving the remote to the table instead of his sickly gray couch. Screwing up his perfect little life was going to be bad enough; I figured he'd at least need some order to fall back on after the revelation so I resisted. I was completely certain it was just on the tip of his tongue. He just had to think the impossible thought and he'd know it was right. It made me impatient and trying to imitate my mom, Michael needed to get a clue soon.

"What are the 5 drinks at the bar requiring prep time?" He barked the question at me. Apparently my daydreams hadn't gone completely unnoticed again.

"A munken dronkey and his drountain mew or M.D.D.M for short, captain's whore, cherry cheesecake, kamikaze and..." I faltered on the last name. I knew it was an easy one; it just liked to escape me. Michael said only one person drank it, so it wasn't too important, but it still bothered me. After a few more minutes of watching me flail helplessly he helped me.

"The last one is devil's candy. Which is made with?" Ah yes the damn name was hard but the drink was overly easy.

"One part cinnamon schnapps and one part sour watermelon pucker in a shot glass."

"And if the woman wants to be festive?" he hedged, telling me specifically how the woman liked it.

"Umm... oh I know this... I do, I do, I do... Ah! Yes, she likes it with a little float of Bacardi 151 set on fire." I beamed, proud of myself for giving the correct answer.

After that he gave me the "props", empty bottles, for me to practice with. Once he was satisfied I could mix the drinks correctly, we sat on his couch to watch a football game. I couldn't find anything particularly interesting with it, but I managed to cheer when Michael did.

"So, would you like some lemonade?" He gestured to a pitcher on the counter filled with the vile neon yellow liquid. It had burned my nose since I had walked in.

"No, I'm just fine thank you" I turned back to the TV waiting for the next time when the football when through the posts.

"You know I can tell you aren't human." I stared up in alarm at Michael, hoping he wasn't going to try to kill me.

"It's this smell you give off... it's a little musky and spicy, yet cold somehow I can't really identify it." I nodded, he smelled like that to me too.

"I didn't really notice it until yesterday when you hugged me. I wasn't sure where to stand with you. You obviously haven't been killing anyone, yet I was wondering I should hurt you anyway, but you look so..."

"Human?" I finished for him, he nodded.

"Yeah, my mom thinks it's an advantage that most of my opponents would underestimate me, and they do, exactly like you did. I could technically rip open the top of a car like a can opener, which I'm sure you can as well, but I don't like hurting people." I cast a nervous glance in his direction, coming much to close to the truth.

"Human blood is especially delicious, but my mom believes in not hurting humans. She said it was because she met one that entirely changed her life. Mostly I get cold blood transfusions or animals like bears or lions or deer or if I'm desperate foxes depending on where I am." I could hear his fake nonchalance as he asked the question.

"Why did your mom take up that... philosophy I mean, obviously because of the human, but ... is there a deeper reason?"

I smiled sadly and tried my best to give him my theory.

"I think... she's never said it... but I think she's trying to atone for him."

"What do you mean?"

"I think she's trying to atone for letting his humanity be stolen, like the smallest number of people she kills or tells about the supernatural community, makes up for not being able to save him. He was turned Lycan by a... I guess you could call him a visionary." Yes, that was the most diplomatic way to describe Lucien as my mom said, call him visionary instead of a hopeless idiot.

"Anyway, because of that change a lot of people got hurt and killed in protecting or trying to murder him. The Lycan went off on his own after an argument with my mother. It crushed her, just destroyed her. You can't even mention his name to her or she goes on a Lycan killing spree and..." She had already told too much of her mother's confidence, he didn't need to know about the crying and screaming of his name after she was done.

"After the fight she just, tried to survive you know? However she noticed a steady increase in the need for blood and a super, super sensitive gag reflex. Who knew vampires could vomit? I better just tell you now, my mom is a very, very special vampire in her genetic make up and other areas. She was going to kill herself, she thought she was going crazy always hearing this heartbeat in her ears... and feeling a nudging in her stomach." I smiled; this was always my favorite story, my mom made me sound like her salvation when she told it. I twisted my hair absently like Selene did for me as she was telling the story.

"One day my aunt Erika popped in for a surprise visit and told my mom the heartbeat wasn't in her head, it was in her stomach. Aunt Erika told mom she was pregnant, but they both didn't know how that was possible, so my mom ignored her. My aunt got so frustrated that she stole an ultrasound machine and showed my mother, me. She cried when she saw me for the first time. So, Erika gave my mom round the clock IVs of blood transfusions. I was a greedy baby." I smiled at him.

"Six months later my mom went through what she says was the absolute worst 7 hours of her life, but she didn't care because she got me in the end. She may have hated the Lycan but she loved the child he unknowingly left behind." I wrapped up my stories wiping my eyes with my hands.

"You miss her, don't you?" He asked me gently, handing me a tissue.

"It's the absolute worst feeling I've ever had. This is the first and longest time we've ever been apart. Stupid as it sounds, I want my mommy." Saying it out loud made the pain even stronger. The tears spilled out in unwanted torrents.

"I'm so sorry, I swear I never usually cry this much. I- I just-" To my utter horror, my lips started trembling together.

"Don't think I'm an idiot or, please don't think of me badly." The sob hiccupped past my lips, the disgusting traitor.

Michael never mocked me or called me a baby for missing my mother. He scooted closer to me on the couch and hauled me onto his lap, holding me in an iron tight, never let you go embrace, rubbing my hair and kissing my forehead. My walls crashed completely in the most humiliating, naked experience of my life. He held onto me the entire time never ceasing his careful, fatherly ministrations and let me cry myself out. I loved every second of it.


End file.
