Work Text:
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1
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The door slammed shut. Today had been a rather hard day. A bath sounded nice. Chugging a whole bottle of wine sounded spectacular. And sitting alone in her kitchen while her family was still off doing things sounded like Heaven.
Beth Smith was a tired woman. Tired now because of a long day of work. Tired because of a life full of typical hardships. A hard job. Broken marriage. Family (father) issues. She wandered to the kitchen, looking for something to do. But she couldn't think of anything except sitting on the floor and scrolling through her phone on the news.
Her mind spiraled with boredom and her continuous scrolling strained her index finger but she didn't stop scrolling. She'd be bored otherwise. Boredom was dangerous. Her father was a testament to that and wasn't this train of thought quite a jump?
Her mind liked doing that. Thinking of one innocent thing and immediately jumping to the worst conclusions or the depressing ways they could be connected in her mind. Association. That was how the human brain worked. If you hear buzzing, you assume there's a bug because when there's a bug, there's always buzzing along with it.
Association. It pained her to admit that her brain was so easily tricked and connected things in the worst of ways like that. Yes, because boredom obviously automatically held the dangers of becoming her father. Because of course it did. Her brain just couldn't comprehend that not everything in her life was connected to him or some other issue in her life.
Beth stopped scrolling and swiping and tapping. She felt tired. Her eyelids dropped and her vision sent dark for a moment. She'd just sleep for a second. Just for a minute.
•°•°•°•°•°
Rick later came across the sight of his daughter sitting on the floor of the kitchen, leaning against the fridge. She was slumped over, her eyes closed as she silently rested. Her chest rose and fell with each breath. Her phone was off in her hand having shut down after not being charged which Beth would usually do but clearly she didn't. Her other hand was lazily draped over her stomach, palm facing down.
He walked over, grabbed her phone, placed it on the counter. He knelt down, and considered moving her to the couch but stopped. Only fathers got to pick up their sleeping daughters and move them to their beds and kiss them on the foreheads and tuck them in. Only actual fathers got to whisper them a quick "I love you" while knowing they wouldn't hear but saying it anyways because they truly did their daughters
He hardly counted as a father.
And with that, Rick wandered away to the garage, continuing to let Beth sleep on the floor. Jerry would end up waking her up by barrelling into the house with groceries while yelling about some hardship he experienced while at the store.
Rick never mentioned the incident to her when she woke up.
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2
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They all sat at the dinner table, silently eating dinner in awkward silence. Jerry opened his mouth to speak but Summer immediately got up to leave, her gaze set down on her phone. She didn't bother saying bye to anyone when she left or even bother putting her plate in the sink herself. Nobody could blame her for leaving. And nobody could blame her for not coming back with the Jerry demanded that she come back to the table because "Normal families talk about their days at dinner".
They weren't a normal family. They all knew it, deep down. Jerry was the only one who hadn't accepted that yet, still determined to make their family seem a bit normal. Beth couldn't blame him. She was the same only a year ago, trying to make their family seem perfect and spotless of flaws and absolutely darling like every other family with their pristine fences and perfect children. She gave up a year ago, she couldn't tell you when she realized, just one day it occurred to her that her attempts were pointless.
Like a clock with no hands. Useless trash just like her attempts to have a normal family.
Jerry was blabbing something about how they moved the cheese aisle to the other side of the store. Beth nodded along along with "mhm" and "yeah" to appear like she was listening. She, of course, wasn't. Beth was really tired of hearing Jerry just keep talking about the most dull, unimportant things. He couldn't even crack a good joke.
It was tearing her apart. It took everything in her to not flip this table over and scream at the world for being so dull.
She glanced across the table and she must have had it all on her face because she got a quirked eyebrow from her father. She knew that face. It was the face that was telling her "Really Beth?". As in "Really Beth, you're going to sit here and listen to Jerry talk and talk when you should just get a divorce and be done with all of this bullshit but of course you can't because you don't have a fucking spine", that was the look he was giving her.
That look made her want to hear her hair out of her head and throw it on Jerry's plate. Maybe she could scream while she did it too like she thought of a second ago. Beth Smith. Great horse surgeon, mother of two, and decent wife reduced to an insane screaming mess from the world being too boring for her.
No, not the world being too boring. Her world being too boring. All she knew was boring. Her life was an endless cycle. Get up, drive the kids to school, go to work, come back home and cook dinner, do dishes, clean the house, and then mindlessly stare at her ceiling while trying to sleep and failing. Rinse and repeat. Over and over and over.
Her world was boring and when she looked up at her father again, he looked to Jerry and back to Beth before getting up with his plate. She could hear him place it in the sink before he left to the garage with Morty following along behind him. Morty's voice faded as they walked away, last she heard was him asking something incoherent and Rick letting out a dramatic groan before they left her earshot.
Jerry just kept talking.
"I'm gonna do dishes, okay? How about you go play that game you liked?" She cut him off abruptly and he looked about ready to comment about it before changing his mind and nodding. Thank God. She walked over to do the dishes, turning the water hot until it hurt her hands and angrily scrubbing the plates.
The sound of the pot being slammed inside the cabinet rang throughout the house but nobody bothered to ask.
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3
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"Summer, you have 3 D's!"
"Yeah? And who gives a shit?! Because I don't!" Summer screamed back, her hands clenched into fists at her side. Teenagers. Rebellious, hormonal, little things. They were all mad at the world and determined to take it out on their parents. Or vice versa. Or mad at their parents and took it on their parents, rightfully or not. Beth knew she should be saying something, maybe scolding her for talking that way to Jerry but her mouth felt like it was full of glue. Her lips remained sealed.
"Are you seriously letting our daughter talk like this to me?" Jerry cried out, finally turning to his wife, expecting support.
"Summer, be nice to your dad." Beth said in a bored tone, her eyes elsewhere as she sat on the couch. She pulled out her phone, tuning out of the conversation until she heard her name being called out again. Jerry seemed to have said something. She missed the first half of it.
"-th! Beth! Tell Summer she needs to fix her grades! Otherwise she'll fail and work at McDonald's!"
"Summer, don't work at McDonald's."
Summer's eyes narrowed and she looked almost vicious as she rolled her eyes. Her arms were crossed in a defensive manner as she finally spoke again, a snarky reply escaping her. The teen couldn't say she regretted it.
"I'll go be a sex worker on OnlyFans, is that any better than McDonald's?" She expected this to rile up her mother. She looked at Beth with an expectant look, waiting for the anger to cross her mother's face and twist her lips into a frown. But it never came.
"If that's what brings the money in, go for it." Beth said lazily, lolling her head to the side towards Summer before back down to her phone.
She may or may not have been drunk off her ass and totally not comprehending what was just said. She had a long day at work and if a lady wants to chug wine and tune out of family conversations then she should be allowed in Beth's very valid and strong opinion! Jerry continued to yell at Beth and Summer, yelling at Beth for what she said, and at Summer for being disrespectful and rude. Or something like that.
"Respect your elders, Summer." Jerry said, wagging a finger in his daughter's general direction. He held a smug smile on his face as if this solved the problem. He seemed confident in this trump card he's been saving.
At least until Beth opened her mouth again and his one trump card vanished.
"Oh, so you're an old man?" She giggled at her reply, it seemed to have come out of nowhere and she went back to her phone, scrolling through it. Facebook had an interesting video on horse's diets. She was fully invested even as she heard her husband groan and stomp away like a child.
"Mom. Are you drunk?" Summer cautiously asked.
"Pfft- noooo?"
Summer let out a sigh of disappointment and turned around. She wandered to the stairs and upstairs to her room. Teenagers were weird. Beth didn't pay it much mind. They were all grumpy, horny, or sad. Maybe a combination of all three, the most dangerous kind of teenager. Anyways, maybe she still had some wine left in one of her secret spots? She needed to restock some of them, she was starting to run out.
Her father walked by, glancing down at his daughter on the couch. He was eerily silent as he looked down and stopped walking. He just stared at her until Beth met his eyes with her head lazily leaned upwards to face him. Her eyes were unfocused as she squinted at him before waving. He looked scared?
"Hey Dad."
Rick hurried away and left without replying. Beth didn't have the energy to follow after him or call out to ask why he walked away. She grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. Her eyes slowly shut and the woman sprawled out on the couch, one of her legs dangling off the couch, her toes barely grazing the floor. She snored in her sleep and nobody came by to wake her.
Beth woke up later with a mild headache and a blanket thrown on top of her. It smelled oddly of chemicals but her sleep-addled mind pushed it away as she went back to sleep. It was thin but the smell was oddly familiar and she couldn't recall where she remembered it from, just that it reminded her of something comforting. It soothed her melted mind as she quietly curled into it and drifted off again.
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4
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Work was weighing on her mind. A horse had died. They couldn't save her. Her name was Sun and she was a beautiful gold. Beth felt awful about it. She was an older horse and her owner clearly loved her. Sun was well-fed, brushed every day, and probably happy almost every day of her life. The owner was devastated when Beth had to deliver the news of the horse's death. None of her other coworkers wanted to have to inform him so of course she had to do it even if she was bone-tired after the long hours that mainly she spent in her attempts to try and save Sun.
It broke her heart to see the man collapse onto the floor, crying that he'd had the horse since he was 20 years old and took such good care of her. Beth didn't know what to say and had simply stared and said "I'm sorry for your loss". When his tear-filled eyes looked up at her, she felt so guilty. His eyes screamed it all. His sorrow, his anger at the world, his heart that cried for his best friend, which was apparently a horse, but who was Beth to judge?
Beth had to leave immediately since she could feel herself tearing up. It wasn't even her horse she told herself. It didn't work.
•°•°•°•°
When she got home later that day and shared the story. Summer and Morty seemed sympathetic. Rick shrugged, at a loss of what to say. Beth knew her father was bad at death of loved ones in general. She didn't expect much from him in the first place but at least he didn't say anything scathing or rude, so she'd take it as a win. Meanwhile Jerry said "it's just a horse" like the fucking idiot he was.
Everyone's eyes widened suddenly in shock when Beth slammed her fist on the table and her eyes shot to Jerry with a vicious glare. Jerry could be seen looking terrified out of his mind. Then in the drop of a hat, she was stomping her way out of the kitchen, on a mission to get anywhere else where she could rage in peace.
Morty had followed after her but reported having no luck on getting his mother to feel better. Rick and Summer rolled their eyes while Jerry looked to the rest of the family for validation that he wasn't in the wrong. His attempts to look for it failed. They were all on Beth's side.
"It's just a horse? Am I right? Guys?" Jerry nervously laughed when nobody responded, looking around at his family for approval of his response. When nobody responded, he continued looking around helplessly. He looked to Morty who seemed to almost be at a loss of how to respond but he spoke anyways.
"Dad. T-that was pretty insensitive, you know how Mom feels about this? S-she cares a lot about her patients, you know?" Morty stammered out, looking to Summer who nodded as well. He seemed to calm down when Summer agreed with him.
"You sounded like an asshole is what Morty's trying to say." Summer summed up Morty's try at being blunt with their father. Summer nonchalantly stood up and left with no goodbye. Jerry yelled after her to apologize but she never did. Of course. Jerry and Summer were growing further and further apart these days as Summer no longer respected him. Their relationship was hanging on by a thread simply because Summer didn't feel like getting kicked out and Jerry desperately wanted his daughter to appreciate him again.
•°•°•°•°•°
Rick later came by Beth and Jerry's room to try and talk to her. He ended up changing his mind and walking away.
Beth never said a word even though she heard his footsteps walk up to her door and then leave. She wanted to beg him to come back and comfort her and tell her that she was right to be upset at Jerry. But she knew it wasn't his job to console her about her broken marriage. He wasn't her therapist and she couldn't ask that of him without sounding needy. Maybe in a different world she'd be able to get comfort about the situation from her father. But not in this one. And with that, she went to sleep, albeit with difficulty.
She went to bed with dreams of a better family life but ended up dreaming about riding a horse into battle, knight armor, sword, and all. It was a nice dream, one of her best ones even to this day.
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5
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Rick hasn't been home in days.
He hadn't been home in 4, now almost 5 days. The Smith family's been keeping track. Well Morty and Beth have. Summer's been not too worried about it, once commenting "It's Rick, chill out, he'll be fine" and of course Jerry was ecstatic to be man of the house again now that Rick was gone. No more drunken rambling at the dinner table, no more Morty being dragged off, no more smells of chemicals wafting in from the garage. Peaceful. Quiet. Serenity.
Beth hated it.
She missed when her father was home and dragging Morty off because while it was irresponsible, she knew he was learning a bit more than he was in school. He was learning social skills and getting somewhat better with people by the week. She'd never tell Jerry this opinion of course, he'd be furious about "But how will he get a job". While Morty did have to go to school more, Beth never commented if Rick pulled him out of school once every 2 weeks and she'd let it slide without bothering to tell Jerry. It was better than once every two days and clearly it was doing Morty some good.
But Beth hated how quiet the Smith-Sanchez household was now. It was eerily quiet and Jerry was much more smug than usual, especially with the interview coming up for an ad related job. He just wouldn't stop talking about how this job would be the one and how it was bound to result in him no longer being unemployed.
(Nobody commented on how unlikely it was that he would actually get the job, everybody knew it was a sore spot for the man and it was easier if nobody poked at it. A whining Jerry got old quickly)
Anyways, Beth was upset with her father. She wanted to find where he was, somehow get there, and strangle the life of his off-colored chicken neck. She knew she'd regret it if she did that for real though because (her conscious would eat her alive because that'd make her a murderer just like him) she loves him a lot.
She just hopes he's safe.
•°•°•°•°
Rick turned out to be fine, returning home on the 6th day. Morty had already scolded him for being gone so long without so much as a note which Rick dismissed and insisted Morty was nagging too much. (Beth heard the interaction when she came down to tell them dinner was done but ended up walking away from the garage door)
When they finally came to the dining room having smelled the food from the garage, everyone was expectantly watching the entrance into the kitchen. Waiting for them.
Summer looked to Morty and Rick before laughing. She shook her head before looking down at her phone. "Fucking told you he'd be fine. Idiot." The teenager said, not noticing the slightly surprised look Rick shot in her direction before he straightened up.
"Yeah, s-see? Summer told you so!" The scientist exclaimed with a laugh, stumbling through his attempt at being snarky. As usual.
Beth just stared at them before shifting her gaze to the table. She was silent as she began eating. Her father and her son came to the table where their plates were, beginning to eat their food. Rick ranted about where he was while Summer and Morty popped in with questions and little comments to his story. A small smile bloomed on Beth's face when she heard the barely hidden notes of excitement in her children's voice as they eagerly questioned her father about his 6 day adventure.
Beth knew Rick wasn't really bothered despite how he groaned about them being "needy little bastards". She once heard him take that tone with her when she was young but she would continue to ask about his legendary escapades because deep down they both knew he would still comply. Morty and Summer reminded her of her younger self before her father left for good.
But hopefully, unlike her, they could see through his bullshit better than she could at 12 years old. Her father was full of magic (despite his claims of being a scientist) with his colorful inventions and witty remarks that brought curious people to him like moth to flame. He was full of surprises and never failed to amaze people even if he acted nonchalant about the guns and knowledge he pulled out from his sleeves on a whim.
Hopefully her children could see that despite all his tricks and knowledge and inventions that he wasn't stable. He couldn't stay in one place even if he (only once) claimed he wouldn't be leaving. Her father was always on the move. Beth didn't want to see her children heartbroken like she once was when he inevitably leaves.
The tears rolling down her cheeks registered a moment too late when she heard Morty and Summer ask if she was okay almost in unison. She blinked some of her tears away (or tried to) before looking up.
"I'm fine kids. Just tired. I might go to bed early." She said with a smile and she wiped her tears away. Beth didn't bother continuing to stare out at the confused faces of her family.
"Can one of you do the dishes for me? Thank you..." Beth trailed off, not even bothering to hear any of the responses. She could, however, hear them bickering about who should do it as she wandered off to her and Jerry's shared room. She got there and reached for the door handle and turned it. Her hands felt shakier than normal. Her legs felt like jelly. Her mind raced.
She opened the door and closed it behind her before sliding down the door. Beth held her legs to her chest as memories overtook her mind. Memories of her father. Memories of when she and Jerry were still kinda in love even if Beth wasn't all that into him, but he still tried to be sweet at the time even when she got knocked up. Memories of when Jerry was helpful during Morty and Summer's childhood.
Beth missed the time before. Before things got fucked up.
It finally hit her. It hit her like a baseball to the face, like a ton of bricks. Before her father came back. Everything was perfect and sweet and Jerry was caring and Morty and Summer were younger and naive until her father came around. With this realization came rage. Rage at herself and especially at Rick. If only she declined to let him in that day. If Past Beth said "fuck no" to Past Rick and didn't allow him into her life again, maybe things wouldn't have been so fucked.
Or maybe it'd still end up fucked. She wouldn't know. She was both angry at Rick and Jerry. She was mad at everyone and the world. But especially herself. Herself for being so dumb and naive despite promising she'd be smarter when the time came to be smarter than before.
She racked her brain for advice. Just for some piece of advice she remembered from the years before having a family with Jerry that helped her during these confusing times where she wanted to break something. Something- just anything.
Beth remembered the main 3 she got told over the span of her life. "Correlation not causation", "Watch what they do, not what they say", and "Don't let people get too close to you". Perhaps that last piece of advice was harsh. But...it had served her well although her father did say it while angry after arguing with her mother.
Beth could hear him saying all of these to her. Could hear him, bits and pieces of his voice, telling her advice, advising her to be careful and be observant. She wanted to be angry at him but knew she couldn't stay mad for that long. She was awful at holding grudges against her family. She always forgave people because it was better than them leaving her.
But they always left in the end. Even if she tried to get them to stay. Even if she begged and screamed and cried. They all left. All of them. The teachers who gave up on her in school after being depressed for weeks when her father left and her mother "forgot" to inform them. When her childhood friends got upset with how clingy she became in the hopes they wouldn't leave if she kept them close enough to her. Her first boyfriend who broke up with her when she refused sex in the fear that's all he wanted and would leave after getting it. That was one time her fears may have been right.
Don't let people get too close to you. Keep your heart locked and throw the key somewhere nobody will ever reach it. Don't let people get too close to you because you always get burned sooner or later. Beth pinned that last, implied bit on after her mother practically disowned her when she got pregnant with Summer.
Beth wanted to break something. She was scared, she was angry, she wanted to cry, she wanted to scream and shout. Her father was going to end up leaving after seeing what a fuckup she was and how this family was. Jerry was going to leave her and while he annoyed the shit out of her, she still loved (the memory of who he once was) him. Summer was going to leave as soon as she could and probably never talk to her again, even for holidays. Her family was irredeemably fucked. Beth grabbed a bottle of wine hidden in a long box shoved beneath her bed. She opened it with the corkscrew in the box and drank straight from the bottle.
Fuck her world. Let it burn. It was bound to fall apart no matter what she did or didn't do.
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+1
Rick watched the retreating form of his daughter and sighed carefully. He looked around the kitchen and at the table he sat at. His eyes critically scanned the rest of his family who was currently arguing who had to do the dishes. Did none of them think to check on Beth? To be fair to Morty, he usually tried, at least a bit. Meanwhile Summer and Jerry were rather caught up in their argument about chores which, by the sounds of it, was just spiraling into Jerry ranting about Summer not respecting him as her father. Whatever.
They had this argument damn near every week. Even Summer and Jerry were tired of it, evidenced by how Summer just now abruptly left. Jerry kept eating, not yelling after her to come back like he used to. He's learned it accomplishes nothing. She doesn't listen to him anymore and she only half-listens to Rick, if not only for drug-related advice and adventures she never got the chance to go on and was always jealous of Morty for.
Rick looked around and everyone kept eating. He needed to be the one to check on Beth? Oh God, he absolutely did not want to. Either Beth was asleep and he'd be wasting his time or she'd insist she was fine and he'd be wasting his time. Either ending resulted in him wasting his time. But...it was the right thing to do. So he got up, put his plate and silverware in the sink and walked to Beth's room.
Morty tried following but once he noticed exactly where Rick was headed, he turned and went upstairs to his room instead. Thankfully, it seemed the teen could take a hint of when he needed to leave. Rick was grateful for that. He did not want anybody walking in while he tried to do this. It was bound to fail and they'd both feel awkward for a few days because neither of them were good at emotional vulnerability. But Rick realized he had himself to blame for that bit.
He wasn't an idiot. He knew what leaving Beth as a kid did to her. It's common knowledge nowadays that abandoning a kid fucks them up unless they get therapy and even then... Which Beth hasn't gotten on her own it seems. He's only seen her go to therapy for family therapy or that one alien couple's therapy he sent them to at one point. But never on her own, which clearly may have benefited her.
Rick sighed as he snapped out of his trance. He was in front of Beth and Jerry's room. He raised up his hand, curling it into a fist and gently rapping his knuckles once, twice, and thrice. He waited but no response. He tried it again. Finally he heard a voice on the other side.
"Fuck off!"
A sigh escaped him. Clearly this wasn't going to go well. "Beth, sweetie, can I come in?"
Silence came. Crippling silence that lasted a long minute. Rick waited around, hands in his pockets as he awkwardly shifted his weight on one foot to the other. Did she fall asleep? Then he heard her speak.
"Fine." Her voice cracked halfway through the word. Rick grabbed the handle and slowly creaked it open. He stepped through the doorway and looked to Beth who was sitting on the bed, bottle of wine in hand. The pillows were all around her, almost like a barrier or a wannabe pillow castle that she was the center of.
Rick walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, looking to his daughter. He had no idea how to do this. How does one try to connect with their daughter? He'd go in for a hug but that may be weird. Maybe ask if she was okay? No, no, that was useless, clearly she wasn't judging by the dried tear tracks on her cheeks.
"I want to hate you. I should hate you."
Rick's head snapped over to her. Beth was staring him dead in the eyes, her eyes alarmingly focused on him. She was mostly sober. So that was good. Least he didn't have to wade through the raging ocean known as drunk Beth's volatile emotions, that was a trainwreck and a half. He looked at her and she inhaled sharply before continuing.
"Everything is wrong."
"That's it?" Rick questioned before he could throw a filter onto his stupid mouth. He said it without thinking and judging by the way Beth's eyes shifted to the floor, it was a mistake to let the reply slip. He sighed, scooting closer. Beth quickly scooted away, leaning backwards and away from the range of his hands.
"I'm sorry. I'm listening, but p-please be more specific." Rick said in the calmest voice he could. Beth's shoulders, which were tense and hiked up to her ears, immediately slumped. Her cool demeanor seemed to crack under the weight of her emotions and everything spilled. All the "wrong" things spilled from her lips in the span of a few seconds.
"My marriage is fucked, you're gonna leave, Jerry's gonna leave and- and I've followed your advice for this long but fuck it doesn't seem to work anymore. My world is falling apart at-at the seams and I can't do shit about it and I'm-" Beth cut herself off with shaky sobs as she held her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook, her breathing shaky and far quicker than it should be. Gasps escaped her.
"I'm just so lost, Dad."
Rick reached forwards and when he didn't see Beth pull away, he rubbed her back softly. He stayed silent, continuing to rub her back and shoulders in soothing circles. His other hand came to grab Beth's other shaky one that wasn't holding her face. Beth squeezed his hand before she suddenly threw herself at him in a bone-crushing hug. Rick took it well and wrapped his arms around her.
"It's okay. I'm here now and I'm not leaving."
"But h-how do I know that?"
"...You don't. I just need you to trust me. I haven't left so far. I-I promise, I'm never doing that to you again." Rick said, a bit embarrassed once it was all out in the open like that. But Beth only hugged him harder and her sobs worsened. He got worried he fucked up again until he heard giggles coming through.
"I'm so p-pathetic-" Beth cut herself off with another sob-giggle. Tears soaked his shirt entirely but Rick didn't pay it much mind. He's gotten worse on this shirt.
"You're not. C'mon, b-breathe with me here. Don't want you dying on me yet. Breathe in for 2 seconds."
Beth followed his instructions, in for two.
"Hold it for 3." Rick instructed, rubbing her back gently.
"Out for two."
Beth continued until she felt her breathing come back to her. 2, 3, 2. In for two, hold for three, out for two. Rinse and repeat It helped. A lot. She slowly tested her father's limits, carefully hovering her head above the crook of his neck. She felt his hand card through her hair and encourage her to lay her head there. It was the gentlest touch she's felt in weeks. All the hugs she gets from her family were obligatory, and she was at fault for that too. But this was genuine. Her father didn't have to do this, didn't really have to caress her hair and console her, but he was. He was doing what he should do as her father.
It was all she ever wanted. She loathed to give this up. Ever. For anything in the world. She'd happily throw Snowball or Snuffles into a volcano for this. She'd hurl a thousand kitten into the Sun itself for this.
"I'm not leaving. I promise, I-I'll prove it to you. And we can figure out the Jerry sitch later, okay?"
Beth nodded and smiled in the crook of her father's neck and hugged him closer to her and tighter. She wasn't going to let him go. Ever. She had to trust he'd live up to her expectations and gain her trust again. She wasn't a naive 12 year old girl praying her dad came back home for her dance recital and she wasn't a dumb teenager praying her dad came back home to give her advice. But she was willing to try and trust him.
Her world was broken. But she was still willing to try and fix it. Hopefully with an extra pair of helping hands.