Forget You – Chapter Two - Nineteen Years

Disclaimer: If I owned Fuller House, well, I don't know what I would do.

The pair sat in silence as D.J. drove down one of the long winding roads. The pair were currently off on a day out together, Stephanie had been complaining lately that she never got to see her elder sister any more since the twenty year old was spending all her time working on college work. Stephanie herself had been busy, now fifteen and a freshman in high school, soon to be a Sophomore. And finally the pair had found a weekend where they had little to do, and so had managed to brush off whatever was planned, climb into D.J.'s car and set off for a day of sibling fun.

For Stephanie, silence was not her most favourite thing in the world, so she broke it. "Hey Deej?" When D.J. nodded in acknowledgement, not taking her eyes off the road, she continued. "I'm glad we got to spend today together. I would never admit this to anyone, but I was really missing you."

D.J. looked startled for a moment but that soon faded as she looked at her sister, "I've been missing you too, everyone actually. I mean, it's been two years since I moved out, but still."

Stephanie just smiled for a moment and was going to open her mouth to reply, but instead a shriek came out, "Look out!"

D.J. startled for a moment and spun the wheel as a car came straight towards them. But for whatever reason, the car followed them as she moved out of the way. Knowing it was pointless to try and get out the way any more, D.J. gripped the wheel tightly, bracing herself, as the car collided head-on. The last thing she heard was Stephanie's scream.

Sitting bolt-upright in bed, D.J. gasped for air. Her body was covered in a cold sweat as the memory had replayed over and over in her mind. That memory was as fresh as the day it had happened.

And it was the same memory that had haunted her for nineteen years now.

Before she could even think about lying back down to try – and fail – to get more sleep, her alarm buzzed loudly beside her. Groaning, she knew what that meant and forced herself out from under then now damp covers. She would have to change those later.

Not even bothering with the slippers that morning, she made a b-line for the en-suite bathroom. As she entered, D.J. flicked on the light switch before moving to the shower and turning it on, not even bothering to adjust the temperature.

Slowly, she peeled off her tank top and tossed it to the side on top of the laundry hamper, followed by her pyjama pants. After that, D.J. climbed over the side of the bath – she didn't know why it was a bath-shower combination, she didn't have time for baths – and stood under the stream of hot water. At first, she flinched due to the temperature but slowly she adjusted, although she knew that her skin was going to be red-raw when she stepped out.

Almost robotically she soaked her hair in the water before blindly reaching out for the bottle of shampoo, squirting some into the palm of her hand before lathering her hair in it. Once satisfied she had washed all the sweat out, she rinsed and followed through with the conditioner.

Stepping out of the shower, D.J. wrapped a towel she had found around her body and another around her hair. Stepping up in front of the mirror, she wiped it down and studied her reflection. She had been right when she said the shower was going to make her skin red, but she did acknowledge the fact that it hid the blotchy skin of her face from where she had been crying.

D.J. moved back out into the main room, grabbing a shirt and pants along with underwear for that day before dressing in them and releasing her damp hair from its hold. Moving back into the bathroom, which had now emptied itself of the steam due to the open window and door, she run a brush through her knotted hair, quickly blow drying it. After that she brushed her teeth with no time to spare as her youngest son's cries came through the baby monitor.

Sparing a glance at the clock, she silently cursed herself for taking so long that morning and rushed down the hall to the nursery. Pushing open the door, she saw her eleven month old son standing up, gripping onto the bar of the crib tightly and bouncing slightly, waiting to be picked up. D.J. scooped him up, checking his nappy quickly before deciding it didn't need a change – apparently that late night change had lasted – and grabbed a pacifier from the table.

Rushing down the stairs and into the kitchen with Tommy on her hip, she placed him into his high chair that was pulled up to the counter as she offered a quick 'Morning' to her two elder sons, Jackson and Max Fuller, best friend Kimmy and her daughter Ramona.

Thanking God that she had decided to pre-make lunch the night for the next morning, she grabbed out the three different sandwiches and placed them into separate brown paper bags, handing them off to the three as they made their way out the kitchen to make their journey to their bus stop, each giving a "Bye mom", "Bye mommy" or, in Ramoma's case, a "Bye Deej".

Finally having a moment to herself to rest, D.J. plopped down into one of the now vacant seats. Kimmy, who was nursing a cup of coffee, eyed her. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." Was all D.J. replied with before had to stand once more and pull Tommy's high chair over to the table because he was having a hard time trying to feed himself. When Kimmy raised an eyebrow at her, she insisted, "Nothing's wrong."

At that moment, Michelle decided to enter the kitchen, "What's wrong?"

D.J. rolled her eyes this time, "Nothing's wrong, would you two quit bugging me already?"

"Oo, someone's touchy this morning." Michelle joked as she sat down. This was a normal routine for them now, one that had developed almost a year ago. When D.J.'s husband, Tommy Fuller had died, D.J. and her two, soon to be three, sons moved back into the family house with her father. After a few months her father had announced that he was planning on selling the house but in the end, ended up offering it to D.J.. Michelle had offered to move in to help out, being able to run her fashion empire from the house, and Kimmy had done the same thing too.

And that was where they were today.

"Look, honestly, everything is fine." D.J. began before huffing a little. "You know what's coming up soon, I just, they're back again. I don't want to go through that again, but they're back."

And with that, she got up and walked away from the table knowing that Michelle had offered to babysit Tommy that day since she was home most of the time. Instead, she grabbed her purse from the counter and made her way through the sitting room and out the front door, knowing she needed to get to work soon.

Okay, prologue. What do you think? I've had this idea and thought to give it a shot. This is my first ever Full/Fuller House fanfiction so please be kind. Also a quick note, some characters are going to be ooc, that't to go with my plot. If you noticed any mistakes, please let me know in the review section. For some reason my stupid spell check has stopped working, what a great time. And yes, I have switched Stephanie out for Michelle, but be patient, you'll understand soon! One last thing, what do you think of the title? I mean, I might up changing it as the plot develops but I guess it's okay, right?