Disclaimer: I don't own "Flowers in the Attic", just a copy of it! All rights belong to their respective owners.

(A.N: I am so very sorry for how long this took me to update. My only excuse is I just got a new baby brother recently, so it's been an adventure! I tried to make this a bit longer as a sad attempt of making the wait not as bad. Honestly, I suppose this could take place anytime after their first year in the attic, so you can picture it happening whenever you choose. Thank you so much for the reviews and favorite, and Enjoy!)

It's late in the night, and since sleep isn't coming to me I'm sitting on the bathroom floor, curled up and trying to fight off the fear I have when I think about just how deep my feelings are becoming for Cathy. She's my little sister, for God's sake! I'm not supposed to want her! I'm not supposed to picture how she would look with a wedding dress on, walking towards me down the aisle.

I'm really really not supposed to picture our wedding night, either.

I hate the way this place steals who I could have been.

I wonder sometimes what I would have been like had my Father not passed away. I would have kept up with my studies, reading and cramming as much information into my head as I could. Maybe I could have joined a sport. My Mother would still be loving, and I would still adore her. My Father would teach me the things I need to know about becoming a man, growing older. Cathy would still be my obnoxious sister, and I would love her like a brother should, despite the way she would sometimes push my buttons. I would teach the twins how to swim and play games as they grew, and all of my siblings would look up to me.

I would meet new people at school as time went on. Established friendships to cherish. I would meet a pretty girl, maybe a brunette, with big eyes and a charming smile. We would talk about small things, then as we got closer she could meet my normal, loving family. My Mother would adore her and Cathy would tease me for liking a girl, even though she would be secretly happy for me. The girl would play with the twins and go on about how cute they were. I would fall in love with her wit and kindness.

Cathy would meet someone too, a little later. He would be pleasant, and I would make sure to do what good brothers do by meeting him and giving him the classic don't-you-dare-hurt my-little-sister-speech. He would promise to be nothing but a complete gentleman. She would go on innocent dates with him, and soon they would be 'going steady'. I would be happy for her too. He would befriend the twins by buying them candy and playing games with them. Cathy would fall for how well he treated her, and them. She would adore how charming he was.

The rest, like my life after high school, is always too hard to imagine. I can only picture myself with Cathy on my arm and our twins in my care. I try to picture myself loving and marrying someone else, but the girls from my fantasies always morph into my Catherine. Every time. I know I would want to be a doctor, because that's what I've always wanted, but apart from my career my future doesn't even exist without Cathy and our twins.

I'm ripped right out of my thoughts quite abruptly when I hear very light footsteps on the floor right outside the bathroom door. I have been sitting in the dark, because I didn't want to wake the children by turning the bathroom light on. I hear the steps right outside the door; a tiny, barely-there knock reaches my ears. With a sigh I slowly stand, turn on the light and open the door, only to see Cory standing before me as he rubs his eyes, still thick with sleep.

"Cory? What are you doing up?" I'm quite surprised; the twins never wake in the middle of the night, yet here he is.

"I'm scared." His voice is timid, as usual, and I automatically wish Cathy was up in my place. She's a lot better when it comes to choosing good words to comfort the little ones. I also feel a stab of guilt at leaving the bed; Cory must have hated waking up alone. I realize vaguely that guilt is becoming as much a part of me as if it was a physical trait. I choose not to look into that too much right now.

"Did you have a nightmare, buddy?"

"Mmhmm." He's got his arms wrapped around himself, and my heart cracks a little more at how small and defenseless my baby brother really is. "I can't sleep again," he continues.

"Will you feel safer if I come back and lay with you?" I ask him gently. "I won't let anything hurt you, you know that." My words taste bitter, since I'm letting things hurt him every second, every moment he's trapped here. The guilt comes back, reminding me of a persistent headache that only pauses long enough to make you forget how bad the pain really is until it returns.

"I want Carrie." He says firmly, and then he pauses and adds as an after thought; "Please?".

Well damn it. I don't want to wake the girls but how can I deny him something else, on top of everything else he doesn't get to have? I'm at a loss of what to do, until I hear the sweetest voice in the world half-whispering with a gentle tone; "Come here Cory, you can have my spot." My heart is beating faster and she hasn't even spoken to me. Great.

Cory's little face lights up, and the sight soothes me. He tells me goodnight and then before I can even respond he's walking quickly back into the darkness. I hear him settle into the covers while Cathy tucks him in, telling him she loves him. The words make my throat feel tight, I can practically feel the intense love she has for our little twins in the air. After a moment I turn the light off again, blinking in the darkness. I make my familiar way back to the bed, trying to push back the excitement of being able to sleep next to Catherine again. It doesn't happen quite that often but when it does I sleep a lot better.

I climb into bed next to her, and we lay facing eachother, mere inches apart. I'm still not quite ready for sleep yet so I whisper to her, "I'm sorry we woke you."

"Shh. Don't be sorry, silly. I've been tossing and turning anyway. Why were you sitting in there?"

If I tell her I was thinking about my complete and undying love for her she might be a bit startled. I decide to tell a different truth, for obvious reasons.

"I was picturing what things could be like." Her hand gently grabs mine underneath the blankets and I suppress a shiver. Her skin is really warm.

"What do you think would've happened?" 'If we weren't trapped in an attic by our greedy Mother and the psychotic, unmerciful Grandmother who thinks we are the spawn of the Devil himself' is what we don't say but we both think it. Her hand gently squeezes mine and I squeeze back.

"I think I would have been the most popular, handsome and charming guy in school, obviously. Girls would want me, and boys would wish they were me." I tease lightly, trying to sound serious and failing pitifully. I can almost feel her eyes roll.

"Well, Mr. Popular, what would I be like, pray tell?" Her tone is light but I know Cathy better than I know anything else, so I know she's extremely curious. I can't resist teasing her a bit more.

"You would be Mr. Popular's sister, lucky girl." She scoffs but I can tell she's holding back a smile.

"Fine. Don't tell me. I can imagine for myself." She pauses for a moment, pretending to seriously consider, and then continues, "I would have tons of friends, and they would adore and respect me. I would have great grades, and soon I would be seen as 'Catherine, incredibly charming and likeable young woman. The gal everyone wants to know." She makes herself sound as haughty as possible, and I know she's just teasing me for what I said but inside I know that's exactly what she would have been. I chuckle, as if I don't believe every word she said, and I respond, "I'll bet. No one can resist a dancer's charm."

"Not even you?" Does she get a kick out of making me feel like a despicable human being? Why oh why does she insist on adding fuel to the fire? After a moment, against my better judgement I reply,

"Nope. Not even me." I regret my words as soon as they slip past my tired lips. My voice is quiet but I know she hears when she looks away in what I can only hope is flattery. However, I decide it's most likely disgust. I'm too afraid to speak up, so I just lay on my back, waiting for merciful slumber to deliver me from this embarrassing silence. I wish I could see her face more clearly in the dark.

I'm just on the edge of slumber, finally, when I hear Cathy speak once more, very softly.

"I didn't know I could miss something before it even happens." Her voice is soft and I want to take her mind off of this. Especially since I'm the one who brought it up, in a way.

"Don't worry, Lady Catherine," faintly I can see her full lips stretch into a smile at the name, "Once this nightmare is over we will be complete and utter socialites, just you wait. Every night we'll go dancing and partying until the sun rises. Once morning comes we will sleep the daylight hours away, and then it'll be time to attend another event. You will dazzle everyone with beautiful gowns and graceful dance steps, while I use my extreme wit and charisma to keep everyone in stitches. We'll be living a dream." As my descriptions continue she quietly laughs more and more. I'm on top of the world.

"Wait a minute, my dear Christopher! What of the little ones? What will our twins do while we are indulging in such things?" Her voice sounds much brighter as she plays along, and I'm very happy to have distracted her from the negativity we always need to fight back.

"We will bring them along for the ride, of course! Cory will play music for everyone, and Carrie will have so many funny stories to tell. If anyone says they are too young for such things, they will be…" I fumble for words, and I can tell I'm going to fall asleep soon while I ramble on, "...exiled!"

Cathy is snuggling into my side, and she's almost asleep as well if her voice is anything to go by.

"That all sounds perfect, Chris. That shall be our goal. But now, we must rest so our minds will be nice and sharp tomorrow. Goodnight." I agree completely, and just before I nod off, I hear say my name and my heart swells again.

That night I do something I hardly ever do. I dream.

I dream of candlelight and soft music and grand ballrooms and sparkling wine glasses. I can see my Cathy in a flattering, fancy gown and I see us dancing slowly, everyone else in the crowded room making room for us as we glide across the dancefloor. At least, Cathy would glide, I would probably end up stepping all over her poor little feet. Slowly, like a sort of grand finale, I would lean down and capture her lips with mine, causing everyone to clap and cheer around us.

I decide I like dreaming.