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Dr. Frederick Chilton sat uncomfortably in the hospital waiting room chair, the seat underneath him plush, but doing nothing to calm his nerves. He tapped an anxious rhythm against the plastic of the armrest with one hand, his other hand mindlessly running up and down his daughter's back. Arabella Graham sat curled up against his chest, her dark curls flattened between him and her cheek, one thumb unconsciously sucked into her mouth.
The only thing keeping him grounded at the moment was her even heartbeat he felt drumming steadily under his palm.
Every fiber of his being was seeped in dread, his hummingbird heart spiraling out of control as he willed himself not to get too emotional, for he feared waking Arabella, and he'd only just gotten her to go to sleep.
He ran his fingers over her hair, lightly caressing the daisy clip that held her hair out of her face.
"There you are," Will said as he clipped it in that morning, "fresh as a daisy."
Now Frederick feared never hearing Will's voice ever again.
Tears welled up in his eyes. No more Will, no more Sunday morning breakfast consisting of chocolate chip pancakes. No more sitting on their back deck watching him and Arabella tend to the garden. No more gentle heartbeat against his chest and curls to bury his nose into as they lie spooning on the couch watching late night TV. No more feeling Will's lips brush his own as he greeted him coming home after work. No more star gazing in the middle of an empty field in the freezing cold, Frederick bitching the entire time. No more golden laughter ringing out whenever Frederick acted ridiculous just to see their daughter laugh. No more Will Graham.
No, there couldn't be no more Will, Frederick thought, anger curling tightly inside him. They’d come too far, worked too hard. He deserved this sliver of happiness he’d carved for himself.
The brighter side of the butcher’s knife that’d sliced through his life.
Will is the best thing to ever happen to him, and if he lost that, well then, game over, Frederick thought.
He didn't want to raise Arabella alone. He didn't want Will to miss her first day of preschool, he didn't want Will to miss her first lost tooth, or her high school graduation. He didn't want to give a bittersweet toast at her wedding, telling her how proud her daddy would've been, were he there to see it.
"Don't leave me here in this world alone, Graham." Frederick whispered, face inches away from Will's. Their hands clasped as they mirrored each other on the bed.
"Never," was Will's soft reply.
He screws his eyelids shut, willing the tears away as he inhales a shaky breath. His arms coming to tighten carefully around Bella's sleeping form. He leans in, burying his face in her (Will’), curls, praying to any god that would listen to let him keep Will, if not for him, then for Bella.
“Dr. Chilton?” He opens his eyes to see a young woman in scrubs approaching. He shifts to move before realizing Bella is still asleep in his lap, and he gives the nurse an apologetic smile.
“Mr. Graham’s vitals are stabilized for now. His shoulder and face should be healed in no time at all.” She says, but her smile was sad. No, worse, it was pitying.
“Can I go see him?” He asks in a shaky, slightly irritated voice.
“I wouldn’t. He needs to rest. Come back in the morning.”
Frederick nods.
She shoves her hands into her pockets and gives him one last sympathetic (pitying) look and then takes her leave.
One part of him, desperately wanted to see Will, to sit by his beside until he woke up and kiss him breathless, but the rational side knew it was no use.
Frederick remembers the blood, remembers Arabella’s cries, and the sound of dogs barking.
Will had only been home for no more than a week. He’d told Frederick the dragon was gone, that he offed himself with a sawed off shotgun to the face.
Will had just started regaining the life back into his eyes, spending time with Hannibal Lecter can do that to a person. He would know.
They’d been outside having a bon fire, Bella curled up with Will as she told him all about spending time with uncle Jack and aunt Alana while he was away and they were forced to leave their home for fear that the dragon would come.
Then Arabella decided she wanted s’mores, so she and Will made their way back inside to get the marshmallows, chocolate, and crackers.
“Graham crackers, Graham crackers! Are you a Graham cracker daddy?” Frederick heard Arabella ask in a singsong voice, skipping as she held Will’s hand back towards the house.
“Well I do suppose I am, and you know what that makes you?”
“No!”
“A Graham cracker too!” Will said before scooping her into his arms and swinging her around, holding her sideways and nibbling into her side. “So tasty!”
“No daddy! Stop! You can’t eat me!” She squealed in delight.
That’s the last Frederick saw before they disappeared into the house, before the screaming started.
It was all a blur after that.
Will yelling and coughing, wet and weak underneath his hands, face more blood than sinew.
The gun, he’d never shot one before in his life, but he knew this one had to count.
Arabella’s bloodstained lavender dress, one of the sleeves ripped. He’d found her hiding in her closet with her star shaped hands covering her little ears.
The flashing of police lights, the wailing of an ambulance, Bella’s hiccups as she sobs into his wrinkled shirt as he recalls the details of the night’s events to the police officers.
-
He’s sleeping in one of those god-awful hospital chairs when Will awakes. The rough hand clasped tightly in his lightly stroking his thumb as he slowly comes back to awareness.
“You’re awake.” He breathes, eyes filled with tears.
Will, despite being covered mostly by bandages to the face, tries to give him a weak smile, before wincing in pain.
“It’s perfectly alright, as we are both fully aware, I am more than capable of doing the speaking for us both, my love.” He says, attempting a grin, but falling short as he sees the pain in his husbands blue eyes.
-
“I can’t see Bella.” Will says as Frederick helps him change into the spare set of clothes he brought so they could finally leave the hospital, and go to the rental house Frederick had acquired until they found a new home.
After a conversation with Dr. Bloom, who has been watching Bella for him while he stays with Will, she suggested that it would be best to start fresh and not return to their home.
“And why ever not?” Frederick asks.
“Because I look like a monster.” Will says quietly, as Frederick buttons up his shirt for him, mindful of Will’s still injured shoulder.
“Will,” Frederick starts, only to promptly be cut off.
“Oh spare me, Frederick, she sleeps with a night light, two of our dogs, and a mountain of stuffed animals. Seeing me like this would terrify her.” Will bites out as best he can, without moving too much of his only newly healed face.
Frederick takes a long look at him, the jagged red scar running from his cheekbone to his lips. It looks angry and raw, like a fever.
“So you’re just going to avoid her then?” Frederick accuses.
Will looks defeated, of course he would never do that to her, Frederick knows that, knows he loves her just as much as he does.
“I just, I remember the look in Abigail’s eyes when she saw me unraveling. How terrified she was. I can’t see that look on my own daughters face.” Will admits as he sits on the edge of the hospital bed.
“You’ll always be her father, she could never be afraid of you, lover.” Frederick says gently, moving to sit next to his husband on the bed. “Sometimes I even think you might be the favorite.”
Will attempts a feeble smile.
“She knows you, and she loves you, and if not, give her time.” Frederick leans in and gently nips the spot under Will’s ear, before placing soft kisses down his neck, onto his clothed shoulder. “I still have some of that fancy scar cream left, if you want to use it.”
-
They’re at the rental already when Dr. Bloom arrives with Bella, but she doesn’t stay long, dropping to her knees in front of Bella to pepper her face with kisses and promises that she’d see her again.
“Let me know how it goes.” She says quietly so Bella won’t hear.
Frederick nods before taking Bella’s hand in his, squeezing it as they watch Dr. Bloom’s Prius drive away.
“Can I see daddy now?” Bella asks, one hand clutching his, the other clutching her favorite stuffed ladybug.
“Of course, mi amour, daddy has missed you very much.” Frederick tells her as he goes to guide her inside.
-
Will is sitting on a couch in the living room when Frederick arrives, facing away and looking out towards the large glass windows.
When Arabella catches sight of Will she tears herself out of Frederick’s grip and bounds excitedly over towards him.
When Will hears her cry out his name, he turns slowly, arms spread wide, kneeling on the ground to catch her, except she never lands in his arms, instead choosing to stop right in front of him to examine his face.
Frederick holds his breath, it’s not unknown for children to be thoughtless and unintentionally cruel, he just hopes for Will’s sake Bella will be kind, or simply not say anything at all.
But, she is their daughter, after all.
“You have a big booboo, daddy.” She states first.
Will lets out a shaky laugh. “Yes, daddy does.”
Her brow furrows as she studies it, then her blue eyes light up, and her free hand digs into her coat pocket.
“Whatcha got in there?” Will asks.
She brandishes a band-aid. “For your booboo!” She says happily.
Frederick watches in wonder as she peels off the back, and gently presses it to Will’s face, the scar is too big for just one band-aid, of course, but she looks pleased with her work.
“Dr. Bloom said these would fix booboos, no matter how big. I put them on some of my stuffed animals, too.” She holds up her ladybug, showing Will the side with a small floral printed band-aid on it.
“Thank you, sweetie.” Will says as she pulls out another one, one with daisy’s on it, and sticks it to his face.
“There you are,” she says, planting a wet kiss on his cheek, “fresh as a daisy.”