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March and Healy were on their way to March’s rental after they finally finished their case. It was annoying and took unnecessary long but to his own surprise March didn’t feel like celebrating it with a good old bar visit.
Apparently it was so out of character he got Healy worried,
“So, are you okay?” Healy asked after turning off the car in front of their destination.
“What? Yeah I’m actually great.” March answered confused, “Why are you asking?”
“Just wondering why no bar today. Not that I’m complaining! It’s just weird for you.”
“Didn’t feel like it,” The blond man shrugged and thought for a second before speaking up again, “Can I be honest with you for a moment?”
Healy moved a little bit to see March better and tried reading his expression. He was rather unsuccessful due to the fact the man already lit a cigarette and for some reason he always looked the same with a cigarette between his lips and not once did that look mirror whatever was going on in his head.
“Sure.” Healy simply answered.
“I’m worried about Holly. Can’t be drinking myself to death when I’m worried about her.” He said casually as if drinking himself to death was a valid option if he wasn’t worried about his kid.
Healy had to suppress a comment and started nervously drumming on the driving wheel. This wasn’t a usual conversation for the two men but Healy did start it so he sure as hell wasn’t gonna shut down March now.
“Something happened?”
“No. Not really I guess. She’s just been quiet recently. Not as mean and snarky, you know?”
“Mhm, you talked to her about it? Maybe you should ask her.”
“She’s a 13 year old girl, Healy. Just asking is not gonna work.” March sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I don’t wanna corner her,” he took a drag out of his cigarette and looked towards the front door. He felt something twist inside his chest but couldn’t quite place where this was suddenly coming from.
“I’m just scared for her. Don’t want her to turn out like me.”
“Then talk to her. I know 13 year old girl or whatever but she’s not your average 13 year old girl and we both know it. If your gut tells you something is wrong, listen.”
March turned to look at his business partner and eventually let out a deep breath, “Yeah. You might be right. Thanks,” He threw the leftover cigarette stump out and got out of the car, “Well goodnight then.”
“Goodnight, March,” Healy gave him a small wave before adding, “And say hi to Holly from me.”
“Will do.” And with that March walked towards his front door. A heavy feeling spread throughout his chest. He fumbled with his keys and nervously opened the door. “Why am I so nervous?” He thought to himself, “Nothing happened. Holly is fine. She has to be. I’m just dramatic, yes that’s it. I’m overthinking non-existent signs. Right, just talk to her.”
The living room was dark and quiet. If it wasn’t for his worry he would have appreciated the silence and lack of light. He probably would have sat down and started planning the renovation of their house.
“Holly?” He asked into the darkness before turning on the light. She didn’t answer so he moved towards her bedroom door. It was closed but he could see a dim light escaping under the doorframe, “Holly?”
Again she didn’t answer and March grew even more worried, “Kid, not gonna lie you’re scaring me. I’m coming in alright?”
He waited a minute before slowly opening the door and there she was curled up on her bed with her back turned to the door. The only light source being her bedside lamp but she turned it away from herself and towards the windowsill where she kept a framed picture of her and her mother. Her gaze fixated on it.
March tried to keep his steps light and kneeled down in front of her. He put his hand gently on her shoulder, “Hey.”
She still didn’t say anything, just kept staring at the picture as if it would somehow bring her mother back if she just wished hard enough.
“I’m worried about you.”
She shrugged, “I’m fine.”
“Are you though? You’ve been awfully quiet the last few weeks. It’s just not like you to be like this.” March stated. Now this seemed to snap her out of whatever trance she was in.
“What is like me then? How am I supposed to act so you don’t freak out?” She gave him a sharp look and quickly sat up. March lifted his hand and let her draw away from him. She leaned against the wall at the head of her bed and put her knees up to her chest.
“This is not about me, okay? I’m worried about you and I don’t want you to shut me out.”
“It’s always about you.” She whispered barely loud enough for her dad to catch it and he kind of wished he didn’t. It broke his heart and he couldn’t even say she was wrong. Their lives were awfully centered around him, that's just the truth. He wanted to be there for Holly, he really did but he gets so caught up in his cases and on the rare occasion he isn't, he is wallowing in self pity or rather trying to drink it away. He wasn’t a good father it’s a fact he was painfully aware of but naively he hoped Holly wasn’t. Stupid thought of course, his daughter was exceptionally observing.
“I’m sorry.” Was the only thing he could get out.
“Then change,” She looked down at him and in this light March could see enough of his wife in her to choke up for a second but he didn’t let those feelings overcome him. This wasn’t about him.
“I’m trying.”
Once again she didn’t answer and simply stared at him which gave March time to think, “I’m trying.” He repeated faintly. It was more to reassure himself rather than his daughter.
“Can I say something without you getting mad?” She asked quietly and fidgeted with her sleeve.
“Of course.” March got up and sat down on her bed keeping the distance they had. He might not be a great father but he could read body language well enough to know Holly didn’t want him in her space right now.
“Do you think you can change? Because I’m not sure. I want you to change but if you can’t I won’t get my hopes up.” She tried sounding like it wouldn’t bother her if he just didn’t change, like she gave him an easy out.
“I-” He quickly stopped himself because he wasn’t sure how to answer. He didn’t wanna lie but what was the truth? Could he truly change? Was Holland March capable of change or was he fucked up for good? He didn’t know.
“Just tell me the truth. I need to know.” Holly pleaded.
“I don’t know.” He admitted shamefully. Of course he wanted to change, he wanted to be better and be the father Holly deserved but at the end of the day he is also just a failure of a person, “But I want to try.”
Holly eyed him critically and turned away from him to look at her mother again. In another universe she wouldn’t be looking at a picture and there wouldn’t have been an accident. In another universe she wouldn’t need to worry about her fucked up father all the time because her fucked up father would just be her father. In another universe she would just be a 13 year old girl and her biggest problem would be worrying if her crush likes her back or whatever normal 13 year old girls worry about. But it doesn’t matter because this isn’t another universe and Holly’s mother is dead while her father is a drunk fuck up
“I swear I will change.” Her father urged but she just couldn’t believe him. But she also couldn’t tell him that so she simply extended her arm and held out her pinky finger.
“Promise?” She waited for him to interlink his finger with hers to complete the gesture and when he finally did, something changed in the air. Or at least that what it felt like and Holly wasn't sure if this was her child-like naivity or her mother joining in on the promise to make sure they won't ever let go of each other.
“I promise, sweetheart.” And for the first time in years she let herself believe that maybe he can change. Maybe things can get better.