Work Text:
Daisy Hardy had some grand plans for her birthday, fully intending to stretch it out for an entire week. Dinner out with her boyfriend Nigel, shopping with her girlfriends, girls night out with Mum, culminating in a weekend in Broadchurch celebrating the actual day, January 23, with her Dad and Ellie and the boys.
What actually happened: Daisy came down with the flu, despite the flu shot she'd had in September. "You're fortunate to have had that shot," Tess reminded her. "It could be a lot worse."
Daisy couldn't fathom how it could get much worse. She felt like death warmed over. Fever, chills, a cough that sounded at home in a tuberculosis hospital...that could have been worse?
Daisy was bitterly disappointed. It would have been her first birthday in ages spent with her dad and now it was ruined. She missed him terribly. Her mother had an opinion on that as well, "You can't risk giving that to your dad. Or any of the rest of them for that matter. You wouldn't want your little Fred feeling like you do." Daisy knew Tess was right. Daisy also suspected that Tess was probably rejoicing that Daisy was hers on her birthday, because she really never seemed all that concerned about Fred before.
It still gave her a headache to read so Daisy was curled up in bed, trying to rest. Nigel had called, which was nice, but she hadn't heard from Dad, other than a text. That was disappointing. She hadn't expected him to turn up on their doorstep miraculously or anything, but she had hoped for a call. He thought perhaps he was working. He and Ellie were still mired in the details of that missing persons case.
He'd called on every birthday he'd missed, she thought, feeling very guilty and ashamed. I never called back. All those messages he left and I never called back.
Being sick made her emotional. She felt the tears welling up. She and Dad had discussed it over New Year's, and they'd both resolved to let all that go and move forward. Feeling miserable made it hard to keep that resolution, however. It still hurt to think of how he could have died, and she didn't take the time to call.
Her phone buzzed. It was her dad, initiating a video call, which he almost never did. Daisy burst out laughing and crying at the same time as she accepted the call.
Four faces were crowded into the screen, singing a very loud and off key rendition of "Happy Birthday." Fred and Ellie were the loudest. Tom was being a teenager, trying not to look like he approved of this at all. And as for Dad, well...singing was not his thing.
She swiped at the tears in her eyes. No sadness now, she thought, it simply wasn't allowed.
The phone was handed off to Ellie first. "Happy birthday sweetheart. How are you feeling?"
"Better now," Daisy managed, still overwhelmed.
"We miss you, but you're coming in a couple of weeks, right? You and I can share a birthday cake," Ellie reassured her.
"Cheesecake?" Daisy hinted hopefully.
"We'd better just get one for each of us," Ellie decided with a laugh. Daisy nodded in agreement. "It's a plan, then. Doesn't matter when we celebrate. Right, then, I believe Tom wanted to tell you something."
The phone was passed off again. "Yeah, you didn't want to come because you didn't want me to beat you at Super Smash Bros on your birthday. I understand. That would have been embarrassing." Daisy burst out laughing at Tom's smug smirk.
"Bite me, Thomas," she returned and he chuckled as well. He handed the phone down to Fred.
"Daisydaisydaisy...." Daisy was suddenly being taken in a whirlwind virtual tour of their kitchen, coming to rest finally on the refrigerator. "Look, I did this!" The camera was still pointing at his face, and he grinned expectantly. Daisy started giggling as he heard her dad patiently explain that Fred had to turn the phone.
Finally, she saw a crayon drawing hanging on the fridge. Fred had made five round blobs with arms and legs. Daisy knew her blob was the one with long brown hair drawn on it. Her dad's blob had dots all over his face. That was how Fred drew a beard. "I love it, Freddy!" Daisy gushed.
A chubby little finger pointed at a pink shape by his five family blobs. "Birfday cake for you!" And with that she had tears in her eyes again. The picture clumsily switched back to Fred's face. He grinned, but his smile faded and he looked concerned. "Are you sad?"
"Oh! No, no, sweetie. You made me happy. I just miss you lot. That's all. I love your birthday picture." Fred seemed satisfied by that answer. And, with his preschooler attention span, he was apparently done as he handed the phone abruptly off to Dad. Daisy understood. She'd had Fred hang up on her several times when he decided he was finished with the conversation.
"Fred's finished?" Daisy smirked.
"I suppose so. How do you feel, Darlin'? Fever gone yet?"
"It's a little bit down. I still have a low grade fever. I'm still quite tired. I look worse than I feel."
"You're beautiful no matter what, Darlin. And sixteen, how did that happen?"
"Oh, Dad," Daisy groaned, slightly embarrassed. "It happens when you're not fifteen anymore."
Alec chuckled. "Oh, that's how that works. I was wondering."
Daisy rolled her eyes. Then she sighed and murmured, "I miss you. Thanks for calling. It really helped."
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he told her. The earnest expression on his face made the tears bloom in her eyes again.
"I really miss you. I always really missed you on my birthday." Oh, now Dad's cryin' too, she thought. She immediately felt horrible for getting soppy.
"Oh, Darlin', I miss you too. Don't keep beating yourself up about this. We're not going to let that happen again."
She wiped her eyes and tried a smile that mostly stuck, and chuckled. "I'm sorry I'm soppy tonight."
He grinned. "Well, we both are. I suppose that'll just be how it is. I'm allowed to get soppy, my baby's sixteen."
Daisy groaned and Alec laughed. They talked until their phone batteries began to wear out, and rang off with promises to get together in a couple of weeks for a combined Ellie and Daisy birthday celebration.
Daisy was exhausted when she got off the phone, but she was happy. Even if they couldn't be together today, the phone call had been a brilliant gift. Her headache had abated somewhat. She knew her dad was healthier and happier than he'd been in years. It had turned out to be good birthday, all things considered.