"......the hell do you mean she died....?"

"I am so sorry, Dakota...."

The Choctaw had just been informed by his beloved wife Charlotte that his first wife, Rosie, had passed away.

Cancer had defeated her, taking her away from this place.

The look in Dakota's eyes was nearly impossible to read. This was a man who lived on the edge emotionally. He made it no secret that he wore his feelings on his sleeve. But upon receiving this news, his expression was strangely devoid of any type of emotion. He just sort of sat there in the kitchen of their home, attempting to absorb it in. It seemed like minutes, but only a few seconds passed by before he spoke up quietly.

".....least me n' her did make peace 'fore she passed on..."

And with those words, Dakota excused himself from his beautiful wife's presence. She knew better than to follow him. When he was this quiet, he needed to be alone.

Stepping out onto their front porch, he settled himself down on the steps..letting his head hang silently for a moment or two. Cascading black locks pretty much distorted his face, keeping partially concealed whatever it was he was going through at that moment.

A hand reached upwards to brush the hair from his face as he stared out towards the acres upon acres of wide open fields which he and Charlotte owned. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a single cigarette. He rarely smoked these days, which was unbelievable, considering the human chimney that he once was. When he did smoke these days, he was either pissed or he was highly saddened.

He loved Charlotte, and he loved their children. He wouldn't trade his life now for anything in this realm.

But he knew he did Rosie wrong...

Those mornings when she would always be downstairs making breakfast for him began to flash through his mind. She was a good woman.

She loved him, and when he got sick, he wasn't man enough to come home to her and let her take care of him.

No, he left...

Granted, leaving is what united him with Charlotte, and for that, he was forever thankful. But his conscience still bothered him because of the way he allowed it to end with Rosie.

And now, she's gone...

What was wrong with him?

Why would he let the passing of an ex wife legitimately get to him like this?

Sitting there, taking a few slow drags from his smoke, he then let his mind go back to the brawl in the alley with Brian, and how he practically smashed her face in with an inadvertent elbow.

Dakota already carried enough guilt with him to start his own religion, but tonight, it was just eating him alive.

Calmly putting out his cigarette, he slumped over and buried his face into his folded up arms which rested on his lap as the tears began to fall upon the steps. He tried his best to be silent, not daring to let Charlotte hear him. He didn't want her to get the wrong idea.

He was on his fourth cigarette in a row. The tears had ceased a little while ago. He was just sitting there silently, staring out into the wide open field. So many emotions running through him right now, so much guilt. Why did he have to destroy her the way he did? Why couldn't he have kicked his old habits back then? Why did she have to get the very worst of him? He was so drugged up back in those days, there's a lot from back then that he simply doesn't remember. He's clean now, but he still can't help but feel utter remorse over the hurt that he put her through when he left her....and now, there's nothing that he can do to ease that guilt

The screen door creaked as it was pushed open and slammed shut as Elena padded out onto the porch. Her Mama had sent her outside to check on her Papa and that was just what she was doin'. It was a nice day outside, sunny and right arounf 79 degrees. "Hi, Papa." Elena smiled sweetly, a hand reaching up to smooth some blonde curls out of her eyes.

On the porch step sat a little black and white kitten which Elena moved forward to pick up. As the small creature was lifted into Elena's arms, it gave a soft mew and clung to the little girls sundress. Elena pet it happily and ran over to her Papa, climbing up onto the porch swing beside him.

Soon as that door swung open, he flicked his cigarette aside to keep Elena from seeing it. Not that he could really hide it from her, but he still wasn't used to that. Seeing that face was enough to make any man's heart melt, and her papa was no different. How could a man keep from smiling when he saw her, even if it was just a half hearted smile? He watched her interact with that kitten for a few moments before scooting over in the swing to make room for his daughter.

"How you doin', babygirl..?" He was definitely putting on the bravest face that he could for little Elena. She didn't need to know about papa's stupid little problems.

Elena ignored her father's question and focused her attention on the little kitten in her lap. Turning her face upwards to Dakota's, Elena's brows furrowed. "Papa you still have tears on you." To prove her point, she lifted a little finger and poked a tear that clung to his jaw. "You're sad like Mama, but she said you're not going to die." Simple words, and yet... wise beyond her years.

Wrapping an arm around the darling little girl, he pulled her in for a kiss on the side of her head before slowly nodding. "No, I ain't gon' die, Elena. I.....I just..." How could he even begin to explain it to her? It still didn't hit him just how sharp this girl was. He still didn't comprehend just how deep her gifts ran. He was still talking to her like a normal five year old. "It's hard to explain, baby. I'm just really, really sad right now. But you're makin' me feel better already." Trying to offer her another brave grin with those last words.

At the kiss, Elena gave a little giggle and squeezed her kitten a little too tightly. This time it gave a loud mew and Elena gasped. She cradled the animal gently and nuzzled it's nose with her own. There was some form of communication there, but Dakota would never know. She bent to place the cat on the porch and then moved to crawl into her Papa's lap.

Deep, piercing blue eyes locked with Dakota's a moment before she drew him into a hug. Her tiny arms wrapped around his neck and her face buried itself into his long black hair. "Papa," she whispered, "she loved you and forgived you."

Those seven words, spoken with such genuinely heartfelt love, hit him like a ton of bricks. He cuddled his Elena....and yes, she was HIS Elena..up into his arms just like she did that kitten, and just held her up against him. He was being as quiet as he possibly could, but he was sobbing uncontrollably. What in the world did an old drug addict like him EVER do to deserve such a beautiful daughter...much less one with gifts as powerful as hers? "Papa......was mean to her, baby....I used to be a bad, bad person."

It would be now that one of Elena's giftings would become apparent to Charlotte (who was standing by the window, witnessing thier interactions). Elena was an empath; it was clear as day. What else she was, Charlotte still hadn't the faintest clue, but this was so very obvious now.

The five year old clung to her father as he clung to her, effortlessly delving into his emotional springs that were wide open now. While Elena was too young to understand the depth of Dakota's hurt, she understood that a healing needed to take place. Lifting her head from his shoulder, her own tears forming in her eyes from her father's misery, Elena touched a hand to his cheek; allowing the unseeable tendrils of soothing love and compassion to enter his body. "But your not, Papa. You're a good Papa and she knows that."

Then, after a short pause, "I love you, Papa."

She had him completely under her powers. Just a soothing rush, like the most gentle of breezes, went through him. He was honestly stunned silent upon realizing what Elena was doing to him. He hadn't really understood the need for her to go to this "special school" until right at this very moment. "I love you too, Elena...more than you could ever imagine. You're always gonna be papa's lil girl. You know that, don't you?"

"Uh huh." She grinned, more-so happy with the fact that Dakota's mental state had evened out. She gave a little bounce, any trace of tears in her eyes gone. My, she was a fickle little thing, wasn't she? "An' yer always gonna be my Papa bear, right?"

"Baby, I'm ALWAYS gon' be your Papa bear...ain't nothin' or nobody eeeeeever gon' change that. You wanna play..? I feel like playin' anything you want to."

"Tea party!"

Oh boy.