Disclaimer: I do not own Alvin and the Chipmunks or the Chipettes.

Author's Note: I'm baaaack! And with the first chapter of the sequel to "Stolen." :') Now, if you haven't read "Stolen," you are going to be VERY lost, so I suggest you read that first, then come back. If you have, then read on.

So, as you all know, I'm super duper excited and can't wait to get this going again...I am so utterly excited that I have a grin stretching from ear-to-ear as I type this. Well, not literally, but you get what I mean. ENJOY ENJOY ENJOY!

Oh, and please...if you took the time to read it, please honor me with taking the time to review it. :D

Little Wonders

Chapter One: A New Day

The pale yellow moonlight from the Harvest Moon illuminated the bed that had white and blue sheets strewn everywhere. A tall chipmunk laid in the bed, dressed only in a pair of navy blue sweatpants. Covered in a sheen of sweat, the chipmunk groaned and twitched in his sleep.

"No...not again...leave her alone!"

Then with a mighty yell, Simon bolted upright in his bed, sweat pouring down his fur. The chipmunk sighed and fell back on his bed, breathing a sigh of relief when he realized that it had only been another nightmare.

Yet they all seemed so real. They whisked him back to a dark time in his life, a very dark time that he spent all his mental power trying to forget. But the memories still wouldn't leave, and there was always that nagging sense of guilt.

"It's not your fault..." he had heard her say time and time again.

Simon knew that now. After months of therapy, Simon knew that Jeanette's injury wasn't his fault. It was his. A low hiss escaped his mouth at the thought of the monster.

However, the teenage chipmunk, now eighteen, was much more emotionally stable than in the past. Even so, he still had some healing to do. And that healing was taking time.

I have to go see her...Simon thought as he rolled out of bed, instinctively reaching for his glasses in the bedside table. After fishing through his dresser, Simon threw on a sweatshirt and pair of old sneakers, opened his window, climbed onto the tree branch outside, and closed the window behind him.

After shimmying down the tree, he ran through the bramble at the back of his family's backyard and into the Millers, who lived in the house behind them. He then climbed their huge oak tree, with branches that conveniently led to any bedroom in the Miller residence. It was a blessing for both Simon and his girlfriend, who had often needed each other's company at strange hours of the night. Both of them had nightmares of their ordeal, in which they were kidnapped by a psycho-maniac who had originally planned to have them help him rob their own bands' bank accounts, but when that didn't work, he became hell-bent on selling their voices on the black market. Not to mention brainwashing the two.

It had never worked, though. Their minds were too strong, too able for that.

Simon rapped lightly on his favorite chipette's window after climbing the same branch he always did. He gave her a few minutes, because she had to wake up first, then get herself into her wheelchair and wheel herself over to the window. Thinking of that brought him back to one of his darkest memories.

The black form fell on the floor as Simon heard hot metal meeting the flesh. Blood. Lots of blood. No green eyes. The green eyes were closed.

The bespectacled chipmunk shook his head vigorously, as if the motion would actually shake the image of her broken body bleeding in front of him out of his head. His distraction came when he heard the window lock click, and saw her delicate paws under the window, attempting to lift it from the difficult angle as she sat in her chair. He placed his paws under the window to help her lift it, then slid his thin frame through the window, shut it, and immediately bent down to kiss her. This was their normal night-greeting, as if the nightmares could be erased as soon as their lips touched each other's. As they kissed, Jeanette wrapped her arms around him, and he lifted her out of the wheelchair and carried her to her bed.

This was the way it always was. They could comfort each other without a single word. Not even a kiss; just each other's presence. The presence was like advil; but the kissing was like novocain. Absolutely numbing peace.

When the pair came up for air, Simon could see her, even there were no lights on. The same pale moonlight from his room was illuminating her. Jeanette was dressed in light purple pajama pants and a white tank top, her fur damp from sweat.

She had been having the nightmares too.

His arms became rigid, and Jeanette immediately knew what he was thinking about.

"It wasn't a bad one," she whispered into his sweatshirt.

"Yes it was. Your top is nearly soaked. Which one?" It wasn't a question; not really. He already knew the answer.

"Laundry room," Jeanette whispered even softer than before, which might as well have been her exhaling, and somehow her breath had formed syllables. Simon felt his entire body go rigid then, and was thankful that the moonlight didn't reach his eyes. He didn't want her to see them; she'd think he had murder on his mind…which was actually a pretty accurate statement.

It had happened during their captivity, somewhere into the second month. Jeanette was doing some laundry while Simon took a shower, which she enjoyed. It brought her closer to Miss Miller, who Jeanette did laundry with all the time at home. They had always talked about all kinds of things – even Jeanette's "birds and the bees" talk had been over folding a basket of laundry.

As she bent over to retrieve and fold one of Simon's shirts, one hand was clamped over her mouth, and another around her waist, and she was slammed into the wall. It was Duponte, who was drunk out of his mind. "You're so preeettyyy," he slurred into her ear from behind, then hiccupped. Jeanette screamed against his hand, and tried to move as Duponte's other hand began to snake up her shirt. Jeanette began to cry, tears pouring down her fur and onto Duponte's hand that was still firmly placed over her mouth, muting her cries for help. He muttered something about her having a sexy body, and how he would make her all his. This made Jeanette cry even harder as she thrashed against him with every fiber of her being.

A crack was then heard and Duponte's hands immediately fell from her body. She whirled around and met her savior, none other than Simon, who looked like he would have murdered Duponte had he not heard the running feet of Duponte's cronies. He dropped the pan he had used to knock out Duponte, grabbed Jeanette's paw, and dragged her out of the room and into their own, where a numb Jeanette helped Simon push their bed against the door. Afterward, Jeanette went right to the shower to rid her body of Duponte's sickening cologne-scent, and after she came back out, Simon had taken their pillows, sheets, and comforter off the bed, and made a make-shift bed on the floor. She crawled into his open arms, and cried herself to sleep in his warm embrace, the one spot she ever felt truly safe in their messed up world.

It took a week and a half of apologizing and pleading on Duponte's part to coax them out. They only opened the door a quarter of the way for food the whole time, which was plentiful; Duponte's way of sucking up. Duponte finally threatened to have his guards smash through, which Simon and Jeanette hadn't doubted they could, and reluctantly pretended to make peace with Duponte.

Simon had never let Jeanette out of his sight after that. They had even stayed in the bathroom together as the other showered, since the curtain was dark enough that they couldn't see each other. It had been the only way to stay safe. Well, as safe as two kidnapped kids could be.

Simon kissed the top of Jeanette's head, telling her what he always told her after that particular nightmare, "He can't touch you. He can't hurt you. Not anymore."

"I know," Jeanette replied.

A few moments of silence passed.

"Will you be staying tonight?" Jeanette whispered.

Simon answered by taking his glasses off and placing them on Jeanette's nightstand, right next to her own purple frames.

"Yes. I'm not leaving you with that on your mind."

Jeanette didn't object.

They watched the bright moon slowly fade away, and watched as the sun slowly rose to take its place. The sky was set aflame by the bright yellows and captivating oranges and pinks that swallowed up the last of the night.

It was a new day; and a new beginning.

Jeanette fell asleep in Simon's arms, and he followed her into a blessedly dreamless slumber.