He woke up to the sound of his alarm going off from his phone. The vibration there on the side table, mixed with the annoying ringing. That's what he thought, until he realized that it was his phone actually ringing. Something in the pit of his stomach made him feel ill and Jeremy didn't know what it was but he knew something was wrong. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to wipe enough sleep out of them in order to see who it was before answering it.

"Liz?" the words were raspy coming from his own throat, but he was still trying to pull himself out of this darkness. Clearing his throat, about to make a statement about it being six in the morning, the sound of the woman on the other side of the line stilled him again. He couldn't breathe, not even swallow. He knew, without an actual word spoken, and he was yanking the covers off of him. Jumping from bed, grabbing a pair of pants and a sweater, pushing his shoes on without socks as he grabbed his keys, the phone at his ear as he waited on details. Out the door, not caring about locking up behind him. Nothing mattered beyond what was in front of him.

She was crying. There was only one thing that he's ever seen or heard her cry over and it wasn't him. His whole body wanted to fail him, push beyond his own abilities here and force the world to do his bidding. Panic set into him and still not a word. He needed words, he needed so much right now but she needed to speak. Time wouldn't pass too much as his car was right out front. He refused to live further than down the street from his own daughter. Even when she wouldn't let him in, when there was court issued mandates for whatever happened between them, he wouldn't want to be far. There were times like this, he needed to be able to be there.

"She's gone, Jer."

He was in the car about to push the key into the ignition when he heard the shaken words. Dropping the phone from his ear, he couldn't tell if he was numb or dying. The phone put on speaker with the press of a button and tossed into the passengers side as he started it.

"Call the cops. Did you call 911?"

"No, I don't want to worry about the backlash of this."

The words angered him outright, that this is where her head went, but it wasn't as if he couldn't recall the time. He hated everything about this. How people didn't think or listen. That this was a way of life and it only made it feel as though there was a clock on the life you have. There was more out there to worry about than the unusual circumstances. The norm, that was just as bad, if not worse sometimes. In moments like this where you could lose someone you love to normal circumstances. His mind reeled on the worst possible things that could happen or have already. She was gone. No better than taken from their lives, she could have been picked up by anyone just walking around. She could have been hit by a car. She could have walked into some water and drowned. She could have hurt herself and be crying and cold somewhere right now. His daughter, his baby girl who is autistic and five years old.

"Call the fucking cops. I'll be there in two minutes."

He let the line go dead, as his own tires squealed in the process of getting down the street. But he did exactly as he said, as he promised. There she was standing out front, rubbing her own arms, in her pajamas. The tears streaming down her face as she didn't know what to do. A neighbor having been sent in one direction down the street, the only thing that Jeremy could do was see red. The anger that was overwhelming, but he knew he couldn't put this all on her. This happened. Not regularly, but this was a threat and it was one they had to maintain.

This happened one other time before. She was too young, oo smart, and too tall. Able to get beyond all of the locks, to work everything to the point that she had to move. Not everyone understood how it all worked. They either looked at her as someone who was mentally retarded and treated like one would back a few decades ago or like she was as normal as any other child. In a way she was, and she deserved that, but the security, the worry, the fears. This was some of what he paid for, fought for, to make sure this didn't happen. Why now? What happened now? He couldn't even get an answer out of the little girl. Even if she were found and standing in front of him. And he knew it, but his emotions. He wanted to punch something for all that's happened in past weeks. She was the only reason he cared about anything anymore.

She must have pulled herself together more at the sight of him. Going straight to action, there was little to be said. Like she just knew what he was thinking.

"It was her. I'm sure of it. She headed out the door. The dog followed, but came back. She didn't. I woke up and she was gone." The blonde swallowed hard, looking away. "Jack went east, the direction she went last," he cut her off with a quick, "Yeah." They both knew. Jeremy had other ideas. Getting back into his car, he was only stopped by her grabbing a blanket and shoving it through his window. It was cold out and he knew what this meant. It wasn't for him, it was for her. State of dress. His lips hit a firm line as he took it and nodded. Jeremy had to keep focused.

He wanted to yell and scream, call out her name as if that would make the little girl come running out to him. Driving down a few blocks in the opposite direction, he couldn't breathe. There was that choked up feeling again. There was movement, parked cars that had no business being where they were. Was there some church gathering or something going on this early? Older woman hovering over someone smaller and they were leaving. Two police officers moving in on everything. Four separate cars and another car driving by. The moment he saw the strands of hair outside of the blanket, that flew as the little girl was bundled into the back of a car, his stomach sank. Pulling over, he nearly forgot to use the break ripping himself away from the seat belt. It still couldn't have even been six in the morning.

"That's my daughter!" The words were hard to get out, but were louder as he went running towards them. "That's my daughter! Cassie!"

There was still that possibility he was wrong and it hurt. He needed to see a face. Crossing the street, they moved and allowed him that view. He felt like a puddle. The weakest a man could get as those blue eyes looked over at him. Messy hair from bed, the glittery pajama top that donned her shoulders as she pushed the tan cover away from her body, giggling as if none of this were real. It was all some game for her, an adventure like no other.

Jumping into the seat with her, he didn't utter a word, wrapping his arms around his little girl and squeezing her through the seat belt. The laughter poured out of her, as if that was just what he was doing, playing a game. It hurt, the way that his eyes watered but he didn't have the words. What do you tell her? He was actually afraid that this would be it. There would be no finding her. He wasn't there, not in the house when it happened. There was no control and it hurt. The moment that everything felt like it was getting better, she decided it was time to take off. All of the what if's steeling into his life, he knew what loss was, and he couldn't lose her, not after finally getting her back.

Jeremy didn't remember his mother, but he was there when his father passed. He had to leave, he couldn't handle everything that happened. The way that life was to be there in Arizona after it all went down. The reminders, the memories, that he couldn't have that life back. The one person that loved him and took care of him, that wanted the best for him, gone. Forced to be an adult and to live like he was a grown man. It was no surprise that he would make the wrong decisions and get into trouble trying to skate on by. But with her, he couldn't. He had to be better because she needed more. She needed him. Proof of how it would all turn out already had been shown, proven, and he couldn't handle this again.

The officers speaking to one another outside, as anyone else seemed to disappear. Sliding out of the car hesitantly, he knew what was going to happen next. The discussion was shorter than expected and he was prepared to hold out identification and be questioned about what could pop up. But none of this happened.

"We got a call about a two year old running down the middle of the street." The man gave an offhand look that screamed he didn't understand that either. A five year old didn't look like a two year old. How senile was this person? It had to be the Pull-Up that was noticable, bunched up there. Potty training having eluded her all this time, something about the acoustics in the bathroom that they had been trying for the past two years to get beyond.

"But you're her father? Do you know how she got out?" Looking down, Jeremy shook his head staring at the road. He didn't know enough, only had an idea. It has happened before. This made him feel like a bad parent, that he couldn't be here faster to stop it, to make sure that none of this happened. That they weren't able to do better, even for this one time. This wasn't the truth of the matter, but it was what it felt like. Broken and bound to be unable to hold that type of perfection. It was as though nothing he did was worth anything for this one moment.

"She's autistic. This has happened before, and she was at her mom's. I was called when she caught it, she got out the front door."

The two man standing before him didn't barrage him with anything, no put downs, no warnings, nothing but the asking for a name and phone number. They didn't even know him by name or his face. It was as heaven opened up and gave him a positive in this that someone understood what he was saying and wasn't treating him how he felt it now. "My brother, his son is too. They found these double sided key less entry locks, you may want to look into. You punch in a number and get in and out." There was his stomach sinking again, but he had been through that. They had key less entry, but not like that. It hadn't been something they could find the last time this happened. This was too easy, and he couldn't help but think this even as they let him pick her up and place her in the back of Jeremy's car.

The hug he held now, it was stronger than before. The relief in his body, it was far from slow working. This was the result of normal daily life for them, leaving with the usual fears and stressors becoming real. A life that they were meant to live from the moment that she was born. There was no choice in it, and there was no option to let go. She was their daughter. He was her father.

He needed to get her home, but that moment alone. This time to themselves, he knew there would be no answers. Only a happy little girl that he wanted nothing more than to see this from. But right now, it wasn't appropriate. The giggling, the happy swinging of her legs as she didn't understand the wrong doings that came with all of this. Her feet without shoes or socks, legs exposed but warm, much like her arms. Her cheeks bright, with that smile unwavering. He wanted to hug her and never let her go. That she would not be able to move an inch from this spot and they would have it forever. How does one get better from this? All the hope he once held, so long ago, all of the things that his ex-wife had told him. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Life like this, wasn't supposed to be it. She was supposed to have better, to do better. And the only thing he could do was allow his heart that pain from nearly losing her. Loving her the way she is and not the way she should be. Protection, he was supposed to protect her, as a father. How do you protect the ones you love from themselves?

"Why did you do it? Why would you leave us? You know we love you? That I love you? You have to go to school. Why would you go like that? Something could have happened to you. Someone could have hurt you. Why would you go and do that?"

He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around her again. Squeezing as he was only reassured again by her warmth. He needed her to be okay. That this life was all that mattered. She was his heart, all he had left of anything good in this world. And if he lost her, there wouldn't be anything left of himself. Whatever this man was, whomever he was supposed to be, he didn't understand it all, but he knew enough. The way things had moved in his life, what happened to Liz, to Cassie, to his own father. Kissing the top of her head, he tried to calm himself more, before checking her seat belt. He didn't want to leave her back there, but this was how he was supposed to keep her safe. The little things, not only the bigger ones. It was the best he could do. It was all he could do, as he reminded himself, driving back to her home.

The questioning look that was given as he pulled into the driveway from the woman that hadn't moved an inch from her spot on the lawn before. The worry written all over her, even until that moment she saw her own daughter. Frozen in her spot, having been lost in fear, he felt it. Swallowing, he opened the door, and picked up his daughter, so she wouldn't touch the ground. The blanket around her, even though she tried to shrug it off. "We need to talk."

There was no energy left for either of them as they stepped inside the house.

Cassandra is nine now, ten here in upcoming months. The use of special alarms and locks, there had been a need to change things repeatedly to keep her within the secured confines of her home. No pool nearby for anyone to worry about, but allowing a child to wander around outside, that wasn't the best for safety. The divorce, it ate at him, in worry and fear that he had done the wrong thing. That they should have stayed together, how he should have fought more for the sake of being able to be there for his daughter. That somehow, him being there would mean that Cassie would stay. But this wasn't the type of case that made sense. The first time she had done so was when she was three years old.

Regular checks, phone calls even if his daughter wouldn't get on the phone. Her speech was still behind, as a nonverbal child wasn't going to all of a sudden want to speak even with cues. Particular sayings repeated or mimicked as all was spoken, but the intelligence was there. She understood what was said, she simply didn't bother. It was hard to say if she cared, until those moments she would come to him and turn to sit on his lap. A giggle falling from her lips, expecting the tickle monster to make his little debut. A feigned random occurence that she was prepared for each time she saw him. The way her face would light up, even without the eye contact. The excitement that was there over things she wanted. Everything was on her terms and no one elses.

Each time he wraps his arms around her to give a small squeeze, its for his own sake, not hers. It helps sometimes, when she's going through a moment. Those outbursts that almost seem random at times, but other ones are obviously due to her sensory needs. But his thoughts move back towards that one morning. That last time he found her. It was as if his heart fell out of his chest and he couldn't think of a worse fate for anyone. Not for any man, woman, parent, or anyone else. To lose something so precious and not know what to do with yourself. The blame game that could be played and was, and it didn't matter. What did, was that something had to be done quickly. A better system put into place as she grew older. Each year, it was the same, held the same possibilities. It was her that changed in it all and there was never a truer way of telling how or what she was thinking. The odds felt stacked against them.

It always made him want to reach out, knowing he wasn't alone in this. At the same time, receed back into some dark corner and lick his own wounds. The pain from it all, the horror of those moments. He couldn't handle reliving them. What if it happened again? He couldn't allow that to happen, not that he really held a choice in the future. All he could do was his best in making sure it didn't. To be there for her no matter what. And that was what he did here, during his own time with her. To tickle her and enjoy what they had, even when his thoughts led back there to that dark place. He couldn't lose her, he couldn't lose her again.

Her interests always amazed him, how alike and different they were. Those little things that would come out like her mother. The little artist and music lover. She would lead him to play for her, and it would always add that extra smile for him, until it felt like she was overdoing it on herself, forcing it all.

"How about some pizza?" he would ask. It was forever her favorite.