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Chapter Text

It was dark, that much I knew. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I should be afraid, but I didn’t know why.

The dark right now was the least of my worries. I was cold, I was naked and I couldn’t move. Not because I was restrained in anyway, but because I had no strength. I could move my arms and legs, but I couldn’t sit up, or even roll over for that matter. I felt something wet and sticky on the floor, it smelt funny, I recognised the smell. A faint trace of iron that clung to my taste buds when I sniffed the air. I was laying in a pool of blood.

But none of that scared me the most, even though it probably should have.

What scared me was I couldn’t remember how I got here, what had happened or who I was.

I heard a loud bang, it startled me. I wasn’t sure if I should try and be quiet, or call out for help. I tried to call out, but my mouth couldn’t seem to make the words, so I just screamed, then I started to cry.

I heard voices, deep gruff voices. Light came cascading into the room as the door was opened. It was too bright, it hurt my eyes. I screamed louder, and cried harder.

“Hosea, Dutch! It’s a baby,” the gruff voice yelled.

It was too loud, I kept screaming, in my head telling him to stop shouting, but it kept coming out of my mouth as a scream, a wail or a cry.

I opened my eyes as a shadow crept across me, blocking out some of the light, making it bearable. Then I wished I had kept my eyes closed.

A boy leaned over me, he was young, sixteen or seventeen at most, but still big. He seemed familiar. Why was he so big. I looked at my hand, covered in red goo. It wasn’t that he was big, it was because I was small. I looked at my baby hands, then started to scream louder, and cry harder.

What had happened to me, I knew stuff, I could recognise voices, recognise smells, tastes.

I screwed my eyes closed willing myself to remember, but I couldn’t, making me even more distressed.

The boy just stared at me, then looked over his shoulder.

“it wont stop screaming!” He huffed.

The boy stepped away, he was going to leave me. I moved my arms and legs, and cried louder.

Then someone else leant over me.

“It’s ok little one,” he whispered.

His hands scooped me up, they were huge. My head was held with one hand and my body with the other. His hands were so warm. He gently shushed me. I was so tiny, I suddenly realised why I couldn’t talk, hell I couldn’t even support my own head! I was a baby. But how?

“Go see if you can find a blanket, Arthur,” the man whispered.

I stopped screaming, and looked at the man’s face who was holding me. He was older, with blonde hair.

Then I heard another voice, much deeper.

“what the hell happened here?” he asked.

I started to cry again.

I saw the other man’s face, as he looked down at me. He had dark hair, and dark eyes. He looked kind of sad. He held his little finger out. I stopped crying, and I grabbed it in my hand. I pulled it towards my mouth. Suddenly realising how hungry I was.

“She’s not very old is she, Hosea?” the dark haired man whispered, as I sucked on his finger.

The man who was holding me, he must be Hosea, shook his head, “a day or so, I’m guessing.”

“The woman must be her mother, she not been dead long,” the dark haired man whispered.

I started to cry again, the finger wasn’t easing the emptiness in my stomach.

“Whatcha gonna do with it,” Arthur asked, as he handed Hosea a blanket.

I cried harder, he was too noisy.

“Try and talk a bit quieter, son. She’s only a baby, she has sensitive ears.” the dark haired man whispered, sternly.

“Sorry, Dutch,” Arthur whispered.

He grabbed the blanket, “Give her here, Hosea.”

Dutch draped the blanket over his arm, and Hosea gently put me on top of it. Dutch then wrapped the blanket round me, nursing me in the crook of his arm.

“Lets get back home, then we can clean her up a bit and see if we can find something to feed her with,” he whispered.

He gently rocked me, stroking my cheek with his finger, until I stopped crying.

I wondered if the shock of what happened, had brought back memories of a previous life.

The three men, looked strangely familiar. Maybe I should stop trying to remember, and concentrate on being a baby.

That was easier said than done. A baby shouldn’t know the smell of blood, or to be afraid of the dark, or even know what a horse is. I knew, as soon as we walked out of the cabin. Once I was close enough to focus. I saw the horses.

As Dutch carried me towards his horse, I had that same feeling of familiarity. The horse turned its head, sniffing towards me. It quietly nickered. As though it recognised me.

Hosea looked at Dutch, “how very odd,” he commented.

Dutch looked down at my face, then at his horse, then back to me.

“Very odd indeed,” he whispered.

Babies sleep a lot, I knew that too. Despite being hungry, the warmth of the blanket and the rocking sensation of the horse, soon lulled me to sleep.

That was until the horse stopped, then my eyes opened and I started to cry. My tummy hurt from being empty for too long.

Dutch tried to sooth me with his little finger, letting me suckle on it, but when no food was forthcoming, my wails continued.

As he walked away from the horses, I heard a woman’s voice.

“Is that a baby? What are you doing with a baby?” She questioned.

Dutch carried me over to the woman, she cooed when she saw me.

“We found her in a cabin we were robbing, someone got there first, killed her mama and left her to starve to death. Guess they couldn’t bring themselves to kill a babe!” Dutch whispered.

Dutch handed me to the woman, I wanted to be with him, he was warm and he made me feel safe. I screamed and cried, trying to kick my legs and arms, but they were wrapped up in the blanket.

“Hush now, sweetheart,” the woman soothed, “lets get you cleaned up and fed.”

I was carried inside, similar to the place I had left, but no horrible smell of blood.

“Arthur, heat me up some water, and then fetch me the rest of the milk from this morning,” she barked.

I screamed, she was being loud like Arthur.

“Susan, she’s a little noise sensitive,” Hosea chided.

I looked at the woman, and she nodded, “I’m sorry sweetheart, was I too loud.” she whispered, as she rocked me.

The boy, Arthur, came along with some things and put them on the table, with a loud thud. When I looked at him, he looked grumpy.

“It’s gonna be trouble,” he huffed, but not too loudly. He’d already been told off for that.

Susan started to feed me some milk, by dripping it off the end of a spoon, into my mouth. Once I had been fed, I didn’t feel the need to cry anymore. She unwrapped me from the blanket, and put me on her shoulder, gently patting and rubbing my back until I burped.

Some things I found unsettling, vestiges of left over memories from my former life. Others I didn’t really care about. Worse for me was not being able to tell them what I wanted. But all, with the exception of the boy they called Arthur, seemed kind.

Once I was fed, Susan cleaned me up, until I had no more of my mother’s blood on me. Something inside told me that I should be sad, but I didn’t feel it. My first memory of being a baby, was being found by the three men. I didn’t even remember my mothers face, which was probably for the best.

Susan looked at me, and smiled. “We should take her to the doctor in the morning, he’ll be able to find her a good family,” she stated.

“No that ain’t gonna happen!” Dutch growled.

His voice was loud, and I started to cry.

He immediately came over, and took me from Susan. His hands, if anything were larger than Hosea’s. He held me out in front of him, supporting my head in one hand, whilst holding the rest of me in the other.

His thumb gently rubbing circles on my back with his thumb.

“This little girl belongs with us, I know it,” he whispered, and gently kissed my forehead.

I cooed happily.

“Dutch? Is this wise?” Hosea asked.

Dutch looked at me and smiled, “It may not be wise, but it’s right.”

Hosea walked over and stood next to Dutch, gazing down at me.

“Well tomorrow, we better go into town and get some baby supplies, and we better give her a name!” Hosea chuckled.

Dutch put me in the crook of his arm, leaving his other hand free. He gently touched my nose with his forefinger.

“What do you think, cutie pie, what would be a good name for you?” he whispered.

I tried to grab his finger, but my focus was still a bit off.

He brought his hand, closer to mine, so that I could grab one of his fingers.

“Such a clever little girl, aren’t you?” Dutch cooed, and blew a raspberry on my belly.

I gurgled, and kicked my legs.

“You’re gonna be daddies special little girl, aren’t you?” Dutch cooed.

Hosea frowned, “Dutch?”

Dutch smiled, for the first time in nine months, since losing his beloved Annabelle.

“She’s a gift, Hosea.” he hesitated, “Annabelle,” Dutch’s voice cracked, “she always said that if we had a little girl, she wanted to call her Anastasia. So…” Dutch’s voice trailed off.

I looked up at Dutch’s face, Annabelle? Why was that name so familiar. Why did his eyes look so sad.

I wanted to tell him everything would be ok, but it just came out as a gurgle.

Dutch smiled, and gently started rocking me in his arm.

“I think my little Anastasia needs a nap,” he whispered.

My eyes started to feel heavy. The warmth of Dutch’s hands and his soothing voice, gently lulled me to sleep.

Chapter Text

"You don't wanna do this, Colm!" Dutch snarled.

Colm gripped my throat a bit tighter, and pressed the barrel of his revolver into my temple.

"That's where you're wrong Dutch Van Der Linde, this is exactly what I wanna do. I wanna watch you squirm whilst I blow your lovely little Annabelle's brains out!"

"This hasn't got anything to do with her, it's between you and me, just let her go!" Dutch growled.

I squirmed, but his grip tightened around my throat.

"Ooh you're little girlie has spunk, don't she. It won't save her though, eye for an eye, ain't that what the good book says, Dutch. Ya should have thought about that when you shot my brother!"

He pulled back the hammer on the revolver.

I screamed.

"Hush now little one, you don't want to wake the whole house," Susan whispered as she picked me up.

No you don't understand! I tried to say, but all that came out of me was a cry and a wail.

She tried rocking me in her arms, but I just carried on screaming, trying to tell her who I was. I'm not a baby, I'm Annabelle.

My baby cries continued.

"Are you hungry, sweetheart," Susan cooed

I tried to move my arms and legs, but they were wrapped up in a god-damn blanket. All I could do was cry and scream. So that's what I did.

My biggest worry was that I would forget who I really was, as my baby brain developed, the real me might get lost. Maybe the nightmares would end, then I would be lost forever. But then who was the real me, was it Annabelle, or was it this the baby whose body I was in. Why could I remember being Annabelle? Who was she? What did she mean to Dutch? Was I here for some purpose?

Dutch walked out of his room, "damn, she has a pair of lungs on her," he grunted, still half asleep.

I screamed louder. I need you Dutch!

"Sorry Dutch, I just can't seem to quieten her." Susan apologised.

I watched as his hands took hold of me, then he nestled me in the crook of his arm.

"Now young lady," he cooed, "what's all this about."

I felt the blanket being loosened, allowing me to move my arms. I stopped screaming, but cries escaped from my lips, when I tried to talk.

Its me Dutch, It's Annabelle.

"I know baby girl, its all a bit strange," he cooed, as he rocked me gently.

I grabbed his little finger, and gripped it as tight as I could. It wasn't very tight, but he let me hold it.

I stopped trying to talk, it was no use.

"There, that's better," Dutch whispered.

"You've certainly got a way with her, Dutch," Susan huffed.

Dutch smiled, and gently kissed my forehead, "your daddies little girl, aren't you?"

Dutch started to walk back to his room.

"Where are you going with her? she ought to go back to her cot!" Susan chided.

Dutch chuckled, "she doesn't have a cot! Where did you put her?"

Susan's face flushed, "in a drawer, don't worry I left it open!"

Dutch shook his head, "she's not sleeping in a drawer! She can sleep with me, until we sort her out a proper cot."

Susan rolled her eyes, "I'll go back to bed then. There's some milk in a cup, if you need it for her later."

Dutch carried me through to another room, and laid me down on something soft, I glanced around, it was a big bed. Then pulled his finger out of my grip. He gently put two fingers on my forehead.

"You're a little bit warm, aren't you?"

He unwrapped the blanket from my legs, which I immediately kicked out with. I started to move my arms as well. I wasn't quite sure why Susan kept wrapping me up so tightly. I tried to say thank you, but it just came out as a gurgle. I was beginning to notice that when I shouted or was upset or angry, it usually came out as a scream or a cry, but when I was happy it would be a gurgle or a coo. At least I could let these people know how I was feeling, even if I couldn't let them know who I was.

Dutch smiled, "is that better princess?"

I wanted to smile, but it just came out as a coo.

He picked me up, without the blanket. He could literally hold me in his two hands, I was so tiny. His hands were so warm. He held me too his chest, which I now realised was uncovered.

Then he laid down on the bed.

"C'mon baby girl, lets get you off to sleep," Dutch whispered.

The tips of his fingers, gently rubbed circles on my back. My stomach pressed against his chest. It felt nice. So warm. I cooed as I listened to his heartbeat.

I closed my eyes as I drifted into a deep baby sleep.

My eyes opened and I started to cry. I was hungry. I tried to think of something else, of who I was, but my baby self was taking over. I had to try and keep a grip on who I was. I was still snuggled into daddies chest. Wait! Its Dutch not daddy. Unless...maybe I was his daughter before. Maybe I was here to sooth his hurt. I had to know, before I lost myself. Or was losing myself so bad. He clearly had an attachment to me, otherwise why would I still be here.

"Oh, has my little girl woken up?" he cooed.

He gently placed me on the bed, and I watched as he put on a shirt, before picking me up again

He stood up. This was another thing I found disconcerting, being so far from the ground. If he dropped me, then that would be pretty much it.

I cried a bit louder, when the thought entered my head. I didn't even have to think about saying anything. Just my emotions and thoughts made the baby me, cry or wail.

Dutch carried me through to the room we had been in before. He laid me on a hard surface, it was cold. Looking around I guessed it was a table. It was only then I realised, I was wet. I'd peed myself. Well why was I surprised, I was a baby after all. But I was a hungry baby, so I cried.

Dutch or daddy, whatever I was going to call him, removed the soiled nappy. It was basically a piece of towel. I guessed that they had cut some up, when I first arrived, and he soon had me in another that was clean and dry. I was still hungry though.

"What are you doing? Why is that baby not wrapped up in a blanket," Susan scolded.

She was loud again, but I'd kind of got used to it. It didn't bother me so much now.

Please don't let her wrap me in a blanket again. The thought turned into a loud cry.

"She was hot, besides I'm just changing her, and she's hungry!" Dutch retorted.

Susan walked over, "here let me..."

She was about to pick me up, so I kicked out with my legs and waved my arms, screaming as loud as I could.

"Its fine, Susan. I've got this!" Dutch snapped.

I was once again, being held in Dutch's hands, but this time he put me in the crook of his arm, gently rocking me, and shushing me. But I wouldn't shush, I was hungry. My screams, reduced to a cry though, now that I knew I was with him, and not with Susan.

A finger touched my lips, so I stopped crying, I opened my mouth, but the finger was gone. Before I could think about crying again, I tasted milk, as it was gently trickled into my mouth. Each drop I swallowed hungrily.

"There's my good little girl, you were just hungry," Dutch cooed.

When I felt full, I spat the last trickle out. My mouth was gently wiped with a cloth. Then I was lifted on to his shoulder. He gently rubbed my back, then patted it, until I burped. Then I was back in the crook of his arm.

"Your such a precious little thing," he whispered, as he rocked me gently.

My eyelids felt heavy. This was going to be my life for the next few months I guessed. Eating, sleeping and pooping. I just had to try and remember who I was. Easier when the nightmares came, but I could feel my baby brain taking over. With that in mind I tried to stay awake, but it was a fight I was never going to win, not with daddy gently rocking me, and whispering soothing words to me, telling me how I was special. I guessed I probably was, as I gently drifted back to sleep.

I was tied up, I started to scream. Wait, no, that was a memory, but I couldn't move. Then I realised, I was wrapped up tight in a blanket. Where was Daddy! That's why I was screaming. Was that why I hated being wrapped in a blanket? unable to move my arms and legs. Because it reminded of when I, Annabelle, had been tied up, then murdered. I carried on screaming, as loud as I could.

"Hush now sweetheart, are you hungry?" Susan cooed, as she picked me up out of the drawer.

Where is daddy, I screamed in my head, as I screamed out loud.

Susan rocked me, and shushed me, but I carried on wailing. I didn't want to be in this blanket, and I wanted my daddy.

She carried me through to the main room, where I had been fed and changed.

"She sure knows how to scream!" Hosea chuckled.

Susan rolled her eyes, "I still think we should have taken her to the doctors! A gang of outlaws is no place for a child, especially a noisy one!" she huffed.

Susan tried to feed me, but I wasn't hungry, so I just spat it out.

She sighed, "she's not hungry, she's not dirty. I can't quieten her, only Dutch seems to be able to calm her!"

"Give her to me," Hosea suggested, "let me see if I can shut her up. Dutch wont be back for a while, so we might just have to let her wear herself out."

Susan passed me over to Hosea. Couldn't they see I was uncomfortable, wrapped in this damn blanket. I wailed some more, despite Hosea rocking me, and shushing me.

"Well little Miss," he scolded, "if you wont eat, and you wont shut up, you can cry it out in the other room!"

Hosea carried me back to where I had come from, and put me in the drawer, still tightly wrapped in the blanket. I screamed and cried as loudly as I could, but he just walked away.

I carried on screaming and crying, but no one came, not even my daddy. So I screamed and cried some more.

I don't know how long I screamed for. I may know some things, thanks to Annabelle, but the passage of time wasn't one of them. My screams now, were not only from being immobilised by the blanket, but I was now wet, and hungry. Despite my cries and screams, no one came. Not even the horrible Susan and Hosea.

Even though I was screaming, I heard raised voices. The door to the room swung open loudly.

"Hush now baby girl, daddies here," Dutch cooed.

He picked me up and carried me through.

"She's wet!" he said, angrily.

"Well she wasn't when we put her in there, she just wouldn't stop crying!" Hosea grumbled.

Daddy laid me on the table, and finally unwrapped me from the blanket. I kicked my legs and flailed my arms, I still cried, but it was now just a cry, rather than a scream.

"Arthur, put some milk in that bottle for me son, I think she's hungry too!" Dutch requested, as he quickly removed my wet nappy, and replaced it with a dry one.

"There, baby girl. That's feels better doesn't it," Dutch cooed.

He picked me up and held me against his chest, bouncing me gently.

I missed you daddy I tried to say, but it came out as a gurgle.

The grumpy boy from yesterday, smiled at me.

"Here Dutch, here's her bottle." he whispered.

Dutch laid me in the crook of his arm, and put something in my mouth. It wasn't like before, when the milk got dripped of a spoon. It was more like my mama. I closed my eyes, sucking on the teat. I tried to remember my mama, as the warm milk ran down my throat, but all I could hear was my daddy.

"There's a good girl, did you miss your daddy?" Dutch cooed.

His voice was interrupted by another voice, Hosea's

"That child is gonna turn into a brat!" he scoffed.

Dutch chuckled, "No need to be testy, just because she hasn't taken to you!"

Dutch pulled the nipple from my mouth, and placed the bottle on the table. I squealed, I was still hungry and I wasn't finished.

Dutch put me over his shoulder, and rubbed my back.

"Don't be grumpy Ana," he soothed, "you can have the rest in a minute."

"Why are you doing that, Dutch?" Arthur asked.

Dutch looked across at Arthur, and smiled. "Its so she doesn't get wind, else she'll end up with belly ache, son!"

Arthur nodded, "she's kinda cute, ain't she?"

Hosea laughed, "look at you two, tough outlaws, goin' all soft on a baby!"

Arthur frowned, "I ain't soft!"

I let out a large burp.

"You wanna give her the other half son?" Dutch asked.

Arthur looked a little worried.

"Don't worry son, I'll show ya!"

Dutch handed me over to Arthur, who held me in the crook of his arm.

I started to cry quietly, and wave my arms around.

"Just talk to her quietly, son," Dutch advised.

"It's ok little sis, I ain't that bad," Arthur whispered.

Dutch handed Arthur the bottle, and he put the nipple on my lips. I looked at his face, his eyes were bright blue.

"Here ya go, you wont some milk?" Arthur whispered.

I opened my mouth, and started to suckle.

I felt daddies fingers rubbing my arm.

"There's a good girl, this is your brother, Arthur. He'll always take care of you, if ever I'm not around," Dutch whispered.

I glanced across at daddy, then at Arthur. I stopped sucking and closed my eyes. I thought, just before drifting off to sleep, Arthur was ok, not as nice as my daddy, but ok.

Chapter Text

I didn't like the dark. That's what it was like when daddy first found me. Sometimes I had nightmares about the dark, and a mans face. The man I knew from when I was Annabelle. All the time I was afraid of the dark, I would never forget about being Annabelle, even if I wasn't her now.

Sometimes I thought I was, but mostly, just lately not so much.

But I was awake, and it was dark, so I cried. I still couldn’t make them understand me, daddy and the others. Except when I cried they knew something was wrong, and when I smiled they knew I was ok. I could at least smile now, and babble. When I wanted to say stuff, I would speak, but only babble would come out. Sometimes I would be so frustrated I would cry. Then daddy or Arthur would pick me up and everything would be ok.

The room wasn't dark now, just a soft glow from a lantern, then daddy picked me up.

“What’s the matter baby girl, you don't normally wake up in the night?” he whispered.

I stopped crying, and whimpered, as he rubbed my back and held me to his chest.

I closed my eyes, whenever I was close to daddy I felt safe. He was always warm, and that comforted me.

Daddy laid me back down in my cot. It was a proper cot now, not just a drawer. But I still didn't like it. Even if I wasn't wrapped up tight in a blanket.

I started to cry again. Daddy picked me up and cradled me in his arms.

“I thought you were daddies big girl now,” he whispered, as he rocked me gently. I gurgled. I didn't do that much these days, except when I was upset, and tired.

“hush now, its ok. Daddies got you.” he whispered.

Daddy walked back to his bed, still cradling me in his arms. He turned off the lantern so it was dark again. I didn't mind so much, when I was with daddy. It didn't matter if it was dark, because I felt safe.

Daddy laid down on his bed with me snuggled against his chest. I slowly drifted back to sleep.

When I woke up, I was back in the cot. I didn't mind so much when it was light. But I preferred to be on the floor. I heard voices in the next room, they were laughing. I tried to sit. Sometimes I could sit by myself, but usually I needed help. Help me get up, I shouted, but it just came out as a loud babble of noises. It frustrated me when no one took any notice, so I started to cry. I hated being on my own.

The door opened and Susan walked in. I really wanted my daddy, or Arthur.

She reached into the cot and picked me up.

“What's all this fussing for? You want some breakfast, honey?”

I whimpered and reached my hand out to the cot.

Susan chuckled, “Oh we mustn’t forget horsey, must we!”

She reached into the cot, and picked up a little stuffed horse. I grabbed hold of it as soon as it was in reach.

Arthur had bought it for me one day. I had been particularly upset, but when he handed me the horse, it reminded me of daddies horse. A memory had flashed through my mind. An Annabelle memory, she loved daddies horse. Since then, the little white horse went everywhere with me. It was never far away.

I stopped crying, even though it wasn't daddy that picked me up. I was just glad to be out of the cot.

Susan carried me through to the other room. Daddy was there, but why didn't he come and get me.

Then I saw a stranger. She looked familiar, I didn't know who she was. Everyone was laughing and smiling, even Hosea.

“There’s my baby girl,” Dutch announced, standing up.

I reached my hands out to him, and Susan handed me to him.

He sat me in the crook of his arm, and bounced me gently.

The woman looked at me and smiled, “she’s a real cutie, can I hold her?”

Hosea chuckled, “good luck with that, she’s a real daddies girl, she wont have anything to do with me!”

Dutch laughed, “that's because you’ve been a miserable so and so whilst Bessie’s been away!”

He walked over to Bessie.

She held her hands out to me, “Hello sweetie, you wanna come and say hello?”

I whined, and grabbed hold of daddies shirt. In the process, I dropped my horsey. Before I had a chance to cry, she picked it up.

“here sweetheart, you dropped this,” Bessie cooed, as she handed it to me.

I grabbed the toy, and smiled.

I tried to say thank you, but it just came out as a babble.

Bessie chuckled, “maybe we can get to know each other later.”

Daddy kissed my forehead, “come on baby girl, lets get you fed.”

Daddy sat down with me on his knee, and Susan put a bowl of something, with a small spoon on the table. She handed daddy a towel, which he wrapped around me.

He put a spoon of whatever was in the bowl up to my mouth. It smelt vile, so I turned my head away.

“C’mon sweetheart, you can’t live on milk for the rest of your life!” he sighed.

Every time daddy put the spoon near my mouth I whined. When would they realise this stuff was disgusting. After two or three attempts I started to cry. Then daddy just shoved the spoon in my open mouth.

I immediately spat it out and started to cry harder.

Bessie peered in the bowl

“I’m not surprised, it doesn't look very nice, and smells even worse!”

Daddy put the spoon down and wiped my mouth with the towel. He rubbed my back.

“I’m sorry, pumpkin.” he soothed.

I stopped crying, but whined. Why didn't they realise I hated this stuff.

Bessie walked over to Hosea, “hand me your mortar and pestle, the thing you use to grind up your herbs.”

Hosea pulled it out of his satchel, and handed it to her.

“Now Susan, do you have a tin of peaches?” Bessie asked.

Susan nodded, and pulled a tin from one of the cupboards and opened it.

Bessie, started to grind the peaches into a paste, once she’d finished, she put a little on her finger.

“Ana, sweetie,” she whispered.

She put her finger to my mouth, it smelt nice, so I opened my mouth to suck on the finger. It was sweet and tasted nice, I waved my hands and smiled. I like that, I tried to say, but as usual only babble came out my mouth.

She cleaned off the spoon with the towel, and put some different stuff on it. It smelt like her finger, so I opened my mouth.

I liked this, I liked it a lot. I opened my mouth for more, then daddy started laughing.

Bessie handed the spoon to daddy, and he started to feed me.

“Is that good, sweetheart?” he cooed.

I ate every spoonful he fed me, waving my arms as he did. After a while he stopped.

“you ate it all, sweetheart. What a good girl you are,” he said, as he wiped my mouth with the towel.

Daddy stood up, with me nestled in his arms. Sometimes he looked sad, but lately not so much.

He passed me over to the woman, Bessie. There was something about her, more than just familiar. How did she know I’d like what she gave me. Susan handed her a bottle of milk.

Daddy looked down at me, in Bessie’s arms.

“Now be a good girl for your auntie Bessie,” he cooed.

She gently tipped me back, and put the teat in my mouth. I started to drink my milk, looking at her face. She just smiled down at me.

She looked up at my daddy, who was watching me.

“Her eyes,” she whispered, “she reminds me of...”

For a second, Daddies eyes looked sad, “I know, I thought that the moment we found her,” he replied.

I looked at daddy, and he smiled at me. He gently stroked my cheek with his finger.

“She’s made life bearable for me again.” he whispered.

Bessie smiled, “I’m glad, neither of you deserved what happened, maybe you were meant to find each other.”

Bessie pulled the teat from my mouth, the bottle was empty.

I held out my hands to my daddy. He picked me up.

“Does daddy get a kiss?” he cooed.

I leant my head forward, and gave my daddy a kiss. I giggled as the hair on his face tickled me.

I snuggled into daddies chest, as he kissed the top of my head.

I loved my daddy, and my daddy loved me.

Chapter Text

I liked Bessie. I would be happy when she bounced me on her knee, or when she fed me. I had no way of knowing that the day she returned was the anniversary of my death, of Annabelle's death. But Bessie stayed, and Hosea seemed happier, although I still didn't take to him, nor him to me.

Bessie spent a lot of time with Hosea, except when I cried for attention, and if daddy wasn't there, Bessie would come and take care of me. This irked Hosea somewhat.

I had now become mobile. I could sit up by myself, and soon learnt to crawl around. Grabbing anything I could lay my hands on.

Daddy would go out more often with Hosea and Arthur. I would be left with Bessie and Susan.

On this particular day, I sat on the front porch on a blanket, playing with my horsey. Bessie sat on a seat next to me.

A noise made me look up, it was daddy, and he rode back towards the house, really fast.

He jumped of his horse, and ran onto the porch. I held my arms up, and called out to him, daddy.

“Dada”

it shocked me, no words had come out before, not proper words.

I looked at my daddy, he was smiling. He picked me up and swung me in the air, before hugging me to his chest. I giggled.

“Say it again, baby girl” he cooed.

I looked at him, “Dada”

Bessie laughed, “her first word Dutch, that's so sweet.”

Then daddy frowned.

“We have to pack up, and leave. We ran into a spot of bother,” he announced.

“Where are Hosea and Arthur?” Bessie asked, slightly panicked.

“They’re both fine, Bessie. They’ll be along in a minute.”

Bessie stood up, and walked into the house, daddy followed her.

“Susan, we need to get packed up,” Bessie stated.

Susan nodded, “I’ll hitch up the wagon,” she rushed through the door.

Bessie looked at my daddy. “What happened?” she asked.

He sighed, “her mama’s people. They’re looking for her. I can’t lose her Bessie, not now!”

Daddy kissed my forehead. “C’mon pumpkin, we’re going on an adventure!”

I got passed around, as everything was packed up and loaded into the wagon. I spent most of the time giggling and laughing, despite all the frowns and worried looks on every ones faces.

Daddy carried me to the wagon, I suddenly started to cry, trying to reach for something, towards the house.

“We have to go, pumpkin,” daddy said to me.

Then I saw Arthur running towards me.

“It’s ok Ana, here he is,” Arthur soothed, as he handed me my horsey.

Daddy laughed, and passed me to Bessie, who was sitting in the back of the wagon.

“We’d be in trouble if we left her horse behind!” he exclaimed.

Susan and Hosea, were already up front, and I watched as daddy and Arthur mounted their horses, and followed the wagon.

I soon started to get restless, I was tired. Bessie laid me back in her arms. The motion of the wagon, and her quietly humming a tune, gently rocked me to sleep, with my horsey gripped in my hand.

For the eight months since daddy found me, I had only had one really bad nightmare. The moment before Annabelle was killed. But for eight months I had been in the same place at night. My subconscious must have told me that everything was changing.

When I woke up screaming in the back of the wagon, in Bessie’s arms, I was inconsolable.

I screamed and sobbed.

“Dada,” I sobbed.

Bessie did her best, even offering me horsey, but nothing worked.

“Stop the wagon!” Dutch yelled.

As the wagon came to a stop he jumped in the back.

I held my arms out, “Dada,” I sobbed.

Daddy quickly took me in his arms, rubbing my back and shushing me.

“Its Ok baby girl, daddies here, its just a bad dream.”

No daddy, its Annabelle, he killed me, I tried to say, but it just came out as a load of babble, with Dada in the middle.

Daddy hugged and rocked me. I knew he couldn’t understand what I was saying. As always his comfort was enough.

Hosea turned around from the front of the wagon.

“We have to keep moving, Dutch.” Hosea announced.

Dutch nodded, “Arthur, hitch The Count to the back of the wagon, I need to stay on the wagon for a bit.”

Arthur nodded, and did as he asked.

Daddy sat in the back of the wagon, just holding me until my sobbing eventually stopped. Then I noticed it, a recollection. Another memory, and I grasped the red gem that hung from his waistcoat.

“Dada,” I cooed.

“I know sweet pea, its very pretty, but its not a toy.” he soothed, as he took it from my hand.

My bottom lip started to quiver.

“No baby girl, don't cry.” daddy soothed, and rocked me gently, “one day I’ll tell you all about a special lady who should have been your mama.”

I looked at my daddy, and he looked sad again. I reached out with my hand and touched his lips.

“Dada,” I cooed.

Daddy blew a raspberry in my hand and I started to laugh, so he did it again. I squealed joyfully.

“That's better, there's my happy little girl,” daddy soothed, then he kissed my forehead.

He gently laid me back in the crook of his arm, and gently rocked me. I closed my eyes. I never had any trouble sleeping when I was with my daddy.

The next time I woke up I was grouchy and hungry. It was light, and the wagon had stopped.

Daddy was still holding me. As my eyes opened, I started to whinge.

“Good morning, grumpy little bear,” daddy soothed, “is someone hungry?”

Susan walked to the back of the wagon, and handed daddy a bottle.

“She’s finally awake,” she chuckled. “Tents are almost up, hope she settles in a tent tonight!”

I made grabby hands at the bottle.

Daddy laughed, “I don’t think you’re quite ready to feed yourself, young lady!”

He put the teat to my lips, and I opened my mouth, and started to suckle greedily. I really wanted something more solid, but I guessed this would have to do for now.

The milk was gone too quickly, but I was a bit happier now. Daddy handed me horsey, then he climbed of the wagon.

I'm still hungry, I tried to say.

It just came out as babble, but daddy once came out as babble, and now I can say dada, so I kept talking. One day soon I hoped I could tell him that I knew about Annabelle.

I looked around to see where we were, there are lots of trees and a lake. There's no house though, but tents.

Bessie walks towards us with a bowl and a spoon.

I tried to reach my hands for it. I’m still hungry, are you going to feed me? I said.

It still came out as babble, Bessie smiled.

I think you’re like my mummy.

Babble and “mama!”

Bessie looked shocked, “I’m not your mama sweetheart.”

I laughed and said it again.

“Mama!”

Daddy handed me over to Bessie. “She’s too young to understand, I’ll explain when she’s older,” daddy whispered.

Bessie nodded, and sat me on her knee. She started to feed me. It was peaches, the same as the first thing she ever fed me. I always knew it was peaches. I always thought of Annabelle, whenever I tried something new, and knew what it was. If nothing else, I would always remember Annabelle for allowing me to know things.

“Maybe we should have handed her over,” Hosea moaned, on hearing me call Bessie, mama.

Dutch scowled, “How can you say that, she’s been with us virtually since the day she was born. She’s eight months now, you can’t just hand over a child to complete strangers!”

Hosea rolled his eyes, “You ain’t her daddy, even if she calls you that, and Bessie ain’t her mama!”

“I know that, but if we’d left her there, waiting for her family, she’d be dead by now, and well you know it!” Dutch growled.

Hosea rolled his eyes, and stomped off.

Yes I knew things. I knew Hosea didn't much like me. I just didn't know why.

Chapter Text

I guess having a baby in a camp wasn't ideal. Maybe that's why Hosea was grumpy. They had to watch me like a hawk, as I crawled around, heading for numerous dangers.

The campfire, where they cooked the food, the woods that surrounded the camp, the lake. I could get burnt, be bitten by a snake, be dragged off by wolves or drown.

None of that happened of course. Susan and Bessie kept a close eye on me, scooping me up and out of danger when required, and telling me no.

As I got a little older, I started to use other words. Of course I knew what Yes and No meant, thanks to Annabelle, but my baby brain didn't always do as I was told. I’d also started to walk, well stagger really.

As my own brain developed, and communication became easier, a little more of Annabelle was lost, as a little more of Anastasia took over.

The camp we now called home, had been home for a few months, with no reason to leave, so everyone became more settled. That was probably why the nightmares which brought Annabelle's memories to me, stayed at bay. But Annabelle was never far away, I just didn't realise it.

“Ana! Come here so I can put your shoes on.” Susan sighed.

I hated wearing shoes, so once they had been put on, I usually took them off again.

“No!” I yelled. I stood up as Susan came towards me with shoes in hand.

I squealed and ran across the grass towards where Arthur was sitting.

Susan followed me, she didn’t run, because even at a run I didn't move very fast.

I reached Arthur, who was sitting on a crate. I froze, staring at him and let out a blood curdling scream, then I started to sob.

All the nightmares suddenly came back as I saw the gun in his hand.

Arthur froze, and Dutch came running out of his tent.

“What the hell...” Dutch yelled, then looked at me.

Daddy quickly picked me up.

“its ok sweetheart, what wrong?”

I pointed at Arthur.

“Bad… man… Dada… Hurt… Ana,” I sobbed, the words coming out in-between gasps of breath and sobs.

Daddy looked at Arthur, “No sweetheart, Arthur would never hurt you,” he soothed.

Arthur looked upset, “what did it do, Dutch. I was just cleaning my gun!”

Bessie and Hosea, walked over to see what all the commotion was about.

Hosea looked at me, I was still sobbing, despite daddy trying to console me.

“Arthur, put away the gun,” Hosea whispered, “just for now.”

Arthur holstered his gun, and Dutch frowned.

“You both saw how she was when we found her,” Hosea explained. “She must have seen someone shoot her mama, this is the first time she’s seen a gun since then.”

Daddy nodded and carried me back towards the tent. I had heard what Hosea had said, but that wasn't it. I couldn’t make them understand that I’d seen myself, my Annabelle self, being shot. Strange thing was, I couldn't remember seeing my mama get shot. Why was that? Maybe my baby self had blocked it out. It didn't matter, seeing that gun had brought back the vision that usually appeared in my nightmares. My Annabelle memories. I wondered what other memories might surface.

I didn't very often drink warmed milk now, but this situation was different, well at least Susan thought so.

She brought a cup of warmed milk through to the tent.

“Try and get her to drink this, Dutch. Then try and get her to have a nap. She’s had a nasty shock.” Susan whispered.

Daddy rubbed my back, “No one’s gonna hurt you baby girl, I promise. Now drink this for daddy,” he soothed.

“Dada… Bad… Man…” I tried to say, but daddy just hushed me.

“There’s no bad man men here sweetheart, now drink your milk.” he whispered, as he brought the cup to my lips.

I did as I was told, and drank the warmed milked. It soothed me somehow, reminding me of when I was a baby.

Daddy lay me down on his cot, and lay next to me, snuggling me into his chest.

“Now princess, close your eyes and go to sleep, daddy will keep you safe,” he soothed.

I closed my eyes. The warmth of daddy and the warm milk in my belly, I soon drifted off to sleep, hoping my daddy could keep my nightmares away.

When I woke up, I wasn't with my daddy anymore. I was in my own cot. It was in my daddies tent, just at the bottom of his cot.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes with my fists.

“You ok honey?”

I looked up, it was Bessie. She sat on a chair near my cot.

I nodded, and held out my arms. Next to daddy I probably liked Bessie best.

She picked me up. “Shall we see if we can find you something to eat, sweetheart?”

I nodded. Still rubbing my eyes, trying to wake.

She grabbed my horsey out of my cot, and gave him to me. I grabbed him and pressed him to my chest. Something made me want to hug him tightly. The trauma before my nap a distant memory, but it had still left me unsettled.

Once we were outside, I looked around. There was no sign or daddy or Arthur or Hosea. Bessie set me on the ground, “wait there and I’ll find you something.”

Still half asleep, I just did as I was told. I had horsey, so I would be ok.

I sat on the ground, hugging horsey, waiting for Bessie to come back.

As I sat there, I heard my name being called, it was Daddy.

“Ana? What are you doing sitting on the ground, all by yourself? Come here pumpkin!”

I looked up, and saw Daddy walking towards me with his arms open.

I smiled, but then I screamed.

“N...No...Bad...Dada!” I screamed.

I stood up and started to run. I couldn’t run very fast, and I was still pretty unstable. I had to get away. Away from my Daddy, and his guns. He wasn't holding them like Arthur had been. But I saw them in the holster in his belt. I knew what they were.

I was still pretty unstable when it came to walking, and running away panicked was only going to end in disaster. I soon fell over, and the screams turned into sobs as I hurt myself, and horsey went flying across the grass.

I felt hands around my waist, picking me up.

“Hush now honey, its ok,” Susan soothed.

I buried my face in her shoulder, as she rubbed my back in an attempt to calm me down.

“I don't understand,” I heard my daddy say, he sounded upset.

Susan gently bounced me, rubbing my back.

“lose the gun belt, Dutch,” she advised.

I finally stopped sobbing. I felt safe with Susan holding me tightly.

“Hey pumpkin,” Daddy whispered. “look who I found!”

I slowly turned my head, a worried look on my face. I didn't want to go anywhere near Daddy, not if he had guns. But he didn’t. The guns were gone, and he held out horsey.

My bottom lip started to quiver, and I held out my arms.

“Dada!” I cried, tears beginning to flow again.

My daddy took me from Susan, holding me tightly. I forgot about horsey almost immediately as my arms wrapped around his neck.

“Hush now, sweetheart,” he soothed, rubbing my back.

Opening my eyes I peered over Daddies shoulder. Hosea stood there, rolling his eyes.

“Typical, a child in a camp full of outlaws, and she’s afraid of guns!” he scoffed.

Daddy turned around, and started talking to Hosea.

“What am I gonna do, Hosea. We can't walk around with no guns!”

“Seems to me like you only have two options, either you get rid of the child, or overcome her fear of guns.” Hosea scoffed, “I know what I would do!”

Daddy held me tighter.

“Her name is Anastasia, and she’s my daughter. She’s here to stay Hosea, so you better get used to it.” he scowled.