Archive of Our Own ^beta

Andreas is aware he's fucking with her little head. He had never been an introvert himself and he struggled with the fact that they hardly ever saw anyone, safe for the occasional minion once a year: Callumn, Doris, Rose (once).

His daughter is his only company, his tiny best friend and maybe he overshares, maybe he answers her childish questions a little too truthfully or sometimes flat out lies about harmless things, simply for some entertainment, but that is just... What happens when it's just you, a tiny kid and woods.

They are out grabbing firewood for the winter when this happens, a family deciding these woods are the best place for their camping trip. Bad idea, Andreas thinks, well aware the woods that surround their hidden house are filled with animals... And worse things. Beatrix can handle herself, but he doubts these randos can too.

He's so caught up thinking about their terrible logistics, mouth salivating as he realizes they're grilling something that is definitely going to attract bears, that he doesn't notice Bea's vanished.

By the time he does realize it, it's too late.

His head snaps up at the little squeal and he runs, worry and anger pumping through his veins. Suddenly these aren't just dumbasses lost in the woods, but genuine threats to their safety, genuine threats to Beatrix. The idea of them around his kid makes him see red.

When he gets to their settlement, three camping tents and a badly put together firepit, someone is squeezing Beatrix's cheeks. A woman, crouching down to look at Bea, eyes immense in her face, rattling off to her husband to call child services, as if there's cell phone service here.

"You don't need child services, this one is mine" Andreas glares at them and two kids stare back at him, like he's some fairy tale wolf. They can't be older than eight and nine. Still too old, his Bea is just four.

Her head snaps as she hears his voice and she pushes away from the woman and runs back to him, grabbing his leg. He grabs her by the armpits and throws her up, holding Beatrix to his hip and breathing out in relief as she hides her face in his neck. She's trembling.

"You left your child roaming around?" the woman glares at him, "she could've been eaten by a bear."

As if, he snorts. His little storm would fry a bear before that happened.

"I didn't let her roam around, I turned my back for five minutes" he glares back and the lady squints at him.

"I want to see some identification she's yours."

More proof than Beatrix currently grabbing at him like he's her lifeline?

"Get fucked lady" Andreas rolls his eyes and turns around, pressing his lips to Bea's temples and starting to walk back. He hears shouts and attempts to follow them, but he knows these woods and they don't.

Eventually, as they're making it back home, Bea lifts up her head to look at him, whole face scrunched up like she'll cry, "daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Bad people?"

"Nah" he shakes his head, lies, "just dumb people."

When he tucks her in that night, though, he can't help but think of his orders and of the fact he can't let anyone know about Beatrix and how he failed it and that woman's suspicious face as she asked for paternity proof. Mark, call child services!

He locks Bea in, grabs his sword and the leaves the house, to the barn.

Andreas squeezes the sword firmly in his hand, then crouches down and unlocks the padlock keeping the chains tightly wrapped around the Burned One.

He pokes it with his sword, directs the beast to the open barn door and it snarls and growls at him, ready to turn on Andreas. It wouldn't be the first time, but he can take one burned one by himself. Especially one who's been subdued for so long.

The monster doesn't care about him anyway, it's a lazy hunter and it wants easy prey. The four idiots in the woods. The Burned One bolts out and Andreas goes back inside his house. Sits in front of Beatrix's door with his sword in hand in case the monster decides to come back for dessert.

It doesn't come back.

Child services never comes either.

"I saw it in the magazine" Beatrix says angrily, manhandling him to stay still, "it's pretty."

He snorts, "it's ridiculous."

"Dad" she glares, using the eyeliner pen to try and draw a straight line, "stop talking."

"How'd you get your little paws on a magazine anyway?" he frowns and Beatrix glares at him again, then grabs the washcloth she's been using to wipe her mistakes away and rubs at the corner of his eye angrily. He's sure he's got a bruise there already, from all the rubbing.

"When we went to the town" she says, tongue sticking out between his lips as she squints in concentration, "I think I got it."

"I told you to stay in the car," he frowns. This was why he never took Bea down to the town, she never obeyed. Besides, he had the inkling suspicion she no longer was respecting his orders period. He had found her window unlocked in the morning one too many times.

"You worry too much," she whines, lighting up as she pulls back to look at the cat eye she managed to draw, "it's just people, what are they gonna do, eat me?"

Possibly, he thinks sourly, glancing at the little pocket mirror she's holding out for him. He'll give her this, it's cute, "I think you fucked up your angle, made my eyes look droopy, little storm."

She rolls her eyes, "maybe your eyes are already droopy" Beatrix says petulantly, running a hand through her hair. It's no longer the military haircut he's kept for the longest time.

She's a big girl now and she doesn't let him near her with clippers. Now it's chin length and a mess of tangles. Beatrix, at the age of eleven, is shaping up to be quite the vain woman.

"They were not, you gremlin" he scoffs, then turns his face, "well, go ahead and do the other one."

She opens a big, toothy smile and his heart drops to his stomach. She's growing up too fast.

"You're grounded, forever" he says, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. It's three AM. Beatrix is curled up on the passenger side of their ancient car.

She sniffles, "I didn't think..."

"Well, clearly, Beatrix" he glares at her. It breaks his heart. She's got black tears down her cheeks, which somehow piss him off more, because he knew he shouldn't have let her get into all that girly garbage.

Now look at where they are.

Driving her home from a party she should never have been invited to in the first place, because their number one rule was to not interact with the people down town. She's sobbing because some dumb idiot tried to grope her and she electrocuted him so badly the kid's in a coma. Andreas is more pissed she didn't kill him than he is at everything else.

She's just thirteen, what the fuck.

"I'm sorry, dad" she sniffles again, hugging her knees to her chest, "I just... I just wanted to-"

"Don't" he cuts her off, feels terrible as he says it, "stop wanting."

She hiccups another sob and nods, rubbing angrily at her eyes and she's so small... He's a sentimental idiot. Andreas sighs as he parks the car.

"Bea," he says, reaching in and his daughter flinches away, as if he's going to beat her. As if he ever raised more than his voice at her, "little storm-"

"You don't get it," she sniffles, fists clenched, "you don't get it, dad. I don't- I just wanted to talk with someone who wasn't you or Chips."

"I thought I told you not to go near Chips" he says without thinking and she turns to glare at him, face red and tear marked, eyes a little insane.

"Oh yeah, the burned one is going to run and tell people about us!" she says sarcastically, "I can't even talk to the fucking-"

"Bea-"

"You're awful" she spits, "you're horrible."

"Little storm," he tries once more, trying to make her see that this is all for her benefit.

"No!" she sniffles, glaring at him so intently her eyes flicker between blue and brown, "you just want to keep me chained inside the house, like- Like I'm a doll. Like I'm Chips."

Yikes.

"I don't want to keep you chained anywhere, Beatrix" he gets out of the car and she does too. Ready to square up and throw down, "I'm just trying to protect-"

"Cut me the mother Goethel bullshit."

He's got no idea who that is.

Andreas glares at her and he's tired, it's three AM and he's just had to rescue his kid out of a party filled with drunk teenagers who were definitely too old to be hanging out with a thirteen year old. He's so tired. He misses talking with an adult.

"Alright" he scoffs, "suit yourself. Go down to the town. When they take you from me, then you see if I care."

It's harsh and he probably shouldn't have said. Beatrix flinches as if he just slapped her. He probably would've messed up less if he had.

Andreas doesn't stick around waiting for her answer, he darts inside the house and slams his bedroom door shut with all his might, like he's the teenager throwing a tantrum.

He's got whiskey hiding in his underwear drawer and he guzzles at it until the burning on his chest and his side subsides for the burning in his stomach, until he can no longer hear Beatrix moving around their house.

It's almost dawn when there's a little knock on his door. She doesn't wait for an answer before poking her head in.

Beatrix removed all that horrid makeup and she's wearing her pajama bottoms, but the top is his specialist sweater, the green wool is already so old that he thinks it deserves to go to the trash, but she never lets him get too close to it.

"I'm sorry", Bea says in a small voice, sitting gingerly at the foot of his bed.

He clenches his jaw, wants to apologize too, but instead Andreas only grunts and glares out of the window to the sky that's growing purple.

"...You really think they'd take me away if they knew?" Bea whispers and he can't stay mad at her when she sounds like that.

"They're... As far as people know I'm dead, little storm" he tells her truthfully. It's an old wound, but it still aches. He feels like he died, the man from 13 years ago is as alien to him as the people who live down the town, "dead men can't raise children."

She sighs and crawls on his bed, mushes her face in his chest and he feels that terrible squeeze that's been around his heart since he got the call relax. He runs a hand through her hair and Beatrix sighs, "I'm not a child, dad. I'm thirteen."

A baby.

He snorts and she raises her face to glare at him, but it's playful now and Andreas boops the point of her nose, "you're not an adult either, Chips."

"Fuck you" she scoffs, but she's got a smile on now and Beatrix ducks her head back down and rests her cheek on his bicep, "you can't lock me here, dad. I'll be careful, I- I'll take precautions. It won't be like tonight."

He doesn't have the heart to tell her that tonight was the best possible scenario.

Andreas hums something, deciding he won't agree or disagree and he kisses the top of her head, "you're growing up too fast, kiddo."

"You're such a sap" she chuckles, but now she sounds sleepy. He guesses he is.

"Would you stop looking at me like that?" Beatrix groans, moving around her bedroom as she picks up various items of clothing. They've never had much to begin with, so she's always cherished her pieces in a manner that Andreas couldn't relate to.

He glances at the open suitcase she's got on top of the bed. It's painfully empty. There are three trousers, tops that are too short on her and sweaters that are too big.

"Dad!" Beatrix snaps, hanging near the wardrobe door and outside he hears something akin to a thunder sound. She's got a temper, "just spit it out already!" then, when he opens his mouth to answer, she interrupts, "this is what I've been waiting for my entire life, you can't stop me from going. I need to do this, I - I saw the memories. This is my destiny-"

"Shut up, will you?" he rolls his eyes and gets up, "grab your coat, we're going shopping."

Beatrix mouths around nothing, like a fish out of water, before she's squealing and grabbing her huge leather coat, rushing after him.

He's not been to a shopping mall in sixteen years and Andreas quickly realizes he does not miss it. Beatrix has never been to one period, all of their shopping has been in charity shops and always looking for the best quality, not for style.

He's keenly aware she's got an eye for fancy crap, that she likes to dress up like nobody businesses... Beatrix looks like she's in wonderland.

Andreas doesn't think he's ever seen her smile like this before. He takes her to a big department store, hangs awkwardly as his daughters goes through the pieces and piles more and more crap in his arms.

It's all black, which makes him grin in amusement. It's been her favorite color since she's known what a favorite color was. His has always been blue.

It takes them hours and hours and Andreas barks off three different attendants who try to help them. He's feeling antsy in this place, trapped. Paranoid.

Beatrix twirls in front of him, in a black dress, "it's perfect."

It makes her look much older.

"Are you sure?" Andreas raises a judgmental eyebrow and Bea rolls her eyes.

"Dad I don't take fashion advice from you."

Fair point.

He pays for it all, bags and bags of everything Beatrix ever wanted, all the childish fantasies she's circled in magazines for years and he pretended he didn't see. Andreas doesn't complain once.

He vividly remembers the first time he put on the specialist uniform. His father's displeasure, his mother snorting at the fact their son.. Their only son, the one who was supposed to help the Eraklyon rise ranks, actually wanted to be a foot soldier. How disgraceful. He had nearly exploded with happiness then.

Beatrix is vibrating and they stop for food in a drive through, her rattling out their order, looking like she'll die from how happy she is. It breaks his heart, he doesn't want her to go.

This is what he's been raising her for, going into Alfea, find Rosalind. This is what the memories that have been burned into her mind tell her, the only instructions he's ever gotten from his general.

He doesn't want her to go.

Beatrix neatly folds all of her new clothes inside of her brand new suitcase, pack away all of her new makeup and everything else... And then she rolls the specialist sweater he's not allowed to touch and shoves it down the pocket of the suitcase.

A smile tugs at his lips as he sees that and Andreas hangs at the door. Tomorrow he'll drive her as close to Alfea as he can and just... Just drop the most precious thing he's got to the hands of the wolves, trusting sixteen years of training and parenting. He hopes it's enough, for the mission' success yes, so they can both gain their freedom... But mostly because he hopes she won't walk in there and turn her back to him forever.

It's a gamble.

"Dad" Bea looks up, finishing zipping up her bag, "if I-"

He nods. He's got no idea what he's agreeing to, but he nods. Beatrix swallows, suddenly looking fearful and then she crosses the room and hugs him by the middle.

She stopped growing up at the age of fourteen and her head presses over his heart as she squeezes him in a hug. He squeezes right back, just as hard.

"You can do this, kid."

"I know" she sniffles, so close to him he can feel her heartbeat, "...Nothing... This doesn't have to change, right?" Bea asks and suddenly she's four and squeezing him tightly and he's only thirty and sending their burned one to kill people because he's terrified she'll be taken away.

"No" he drops a kiss on top of her head, "this doesn't have to change. Everything else... Yes. But this won't."