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“Hey! Hey, kid!”
Don’t turn around, don’t turn around, don’t turn around-
“Little girl! I’m talkin’ to you!”
The bus stop was usually empty, most kids on it competent enough to walk themselves home. Every once in a while there’d be an overbearing parent or random creep camped out there. Today, it seemed to be the latter.
Holly picked up the pace, head down and hands balled into fists at her sides. She had noticed the man before she even got off the bus. Mr. Healy once said she had a nose for those kinds of things. He stood halfway behind a nearby pole, hood up. When he saw Holly get off the bus, he immediately started to follow. Not slick in any way.
She was a block away from the rental. She thought if she kept her head down and walked at a brisk pace, she could make it back before he tried anything. Clearly, she was wrong.
Holly took off in a dead sprint and she was sure she heard the man follow. She wasn’t about to turn around to check.
“Get back here, you little brat!”
Yep. Definitely in hot pursuit.
Holly slowed as she rounded the corner, panting heavily. The house was in sight. Outside of it was Mr. Healy’s car. It was there most of the time when she came home from school nowadays. He stayed with them most nights, anyway. She could hear the man quickly catching up behind her. Shit.
She stumbled slightly and the man closed the distance, grabbing the back of her bag. She quickly slipped her arm out and took off. She was four houses down when she started yelling.
“Dad! Mr. Healy!”
She was two houses down when March stumbled out the front door, eyes wide and frantic. His eyes went from Holly to the man behind her.
“Holly!”
She was one house down when Healy came barreling out the front door. Unlike March, he didn’t freeze at the front steps. He took off far faster than a man of his size should be capable of, shoving past March. Holly heard the man behind her curse at the sight.
Healy shoving past him seemed to kick March into gear, because he was at the edge of the lawn to meet Holly when she made it. She practically fell into his open arms.
“Shit, sweetheart, are you okay? Are you hurt? What happen-”
Both March’s looked up at the sound of a head hitting the pavement. The man who was pursuing Holly writhed on the ground, Healy standing above him. Blood was on his knuckles and on the sidewalk. He kicked the man in the ribs, an angry grunt escaping him. Healy reached down and grabbed the man by his hood, lifting him off the ground. Holly winced. It looked like he was missing a few teeth.
“I’m fine Dad, but Mr. Healy-”
“Yeah, yeah. Stay here. Jackson! Jackson, for fucks sake, you can’t kill a man in broad daylight-”
March approached Healy, who whirled around with a look fierce enough to make March put up his hands. Like pacifying a rabid dog. The man in his grip attempted to wriggle free, but to no avail.
“Get Holly inside, March.”
He punched the man again, sending him back down to the sidewalk. March grabbed his arm before he could wind up for another.
“Right, right, he’s got the message, delivery man. Come on, before the neighbors call the cops.”
“He was chasing our-”
Healy caught himself, glancing at Holly, then back to March.
“He was after your daughter, March. If you think I’m letting this guy go, you’re insane.”
March sighed and ran a hand down his face. He narrowed his eyes down at the man on the ground. He looked to be considering letting Healy keep going.
“Dad!”
March groaned and rolled his eyes. He put his hands on his hips and shot Healy a look with his eyebrows raised. Healy met it with a disbelieving glare. Holly watched from the lawn as the two seemed to be locked in a silent argument. It distantly reminded her of an old married couple.
The man tried to crawl away as the two were distracted, but Healy’s foot shot out and landed square on his hand without even looking. The man cried out in pain as Healy pressed his weight down on his hand.
“Mr. Healy!”
Holly walked up to the two, who dropped their argument to look at her. She crossed her arms and huffed, giving Healy a pointed look. Healy looked incredulous, but quickly broke. Holly had that effect on him.
Healy sighed dramatically before taking his foot off the guy's hand. He hoisted him up by his hood again, letting him get his footing this time. He leaned in close.
“I ever see you again, and you won’t be so lucky. Get the message?”
The man frantically nodded, blood dripping from his mouth and forehead. Healy shoved him, letting go of his hood. The man stumbled a few steps before running down the street, glancing over his shoulder. Healy followed for a few steps, then stopped and watched as he ran. He didn’t turn back around until the guy was clear out of his sight.
March sighed in relief, walking over to Holly and wrapping his arms around her. He put a hand on the back of her head, pulling her into his chest as he planted a kiss on the top of her head, holding his lips there for a moment. He halfway pulled off her to give her a once over.
“You sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I dropped my bag at the stop sign, though.”
“I’ll get it.”
Healy grunted out, walking down the street without missing a beat. March continued to fret over Holly like a frazzled hen, muttering something about how dangerous the world was these days. Holly wasn’t paying attention, instead watching as Healy picked up her bag and paused to look down the way the man had run. He stood there a few moments, just to make sure he was gone, before walking back to the two. Instead of handing the bag back to Holly, he slung it over his own shoulder.
“Come on. Let’s get inside.”
Healy muttered, one hand on Holly’s shoulder and the other shoving March, herding both of them back to the house. March squawked, fussing at the man as he stumbled along. Holly stayed quiet, reflecting. She had known Healy was a violent man since that moment on the roof. John Boy in his hands, not unlike the man moments before. His intentions were clear at that moment. They were even clearer now.
She shook her head, clearing the thought out of her mind. It was hard to believe a man as gentle as Mr. Healy was prone to violence. This was the same man who regarded her with such a softness. The same man who would light up at the prospect of a yoohoo. But the writing was on the wall. Well, on his knuckles, in this case.
“Mr. Healy, your hand.”
She said as Healy held open the front door, ushering them into the house. He glanced down, humming in surprise. His knuckles were split open and starting to bleed. He gave her a gentle, reassuring look.
“I’m alright, kiddo. Go on, get inside.”
She glared at him, but listened. March was already inside, lamenting aloud how he needed a drink after that. Maybe a couple. Holly scoffed as she redirected her glare at her father.
“It’s movie night, Dad.”
He knew what that meant. No getting blackout drunk. It was an agreement they had on movie nights. He could have a drink or two, but that was it. Usually Healy had to enforce said rule. March groaned dramatically as he plopped down on the couch.
“March, why don’t you make yourself useful and grab the first aid kit, hm? Bastard split my knuckles open.”
Healy called out from the kitchen. March groaned and stayed put where he was. Holly shot her father a look, and he crumbled. Watching as he stood up and walked off to the bathroom, Holly went to the kitchen to check on Healy.
He was running his knuckles under running water at the sink. He glanced over his shoulder at Holly as she walked in.
“You sure you’re alright, kid?”
“Don’t get started. My father does enough fretting for the both of you.”
Healy chuckled, the sound deep and reassuring. He turned off the water once he was satisfied with how clean his knuckles were. Patting them dry, he turned and leaned back against the sink.
“Forgive me for showing concern.”
He teased before looking a little more serious.
“Did you know that guy?”
“Never seen him before. He was already at the bus stop when we pulled up. Followed me from there. He started shouting a block out, trying to get my attention and stuff.”
“How many times do I need to say it, sweetheart? Don’t say ‘and stuff’, just say what you were trying to say in the first place.”
March walked into the kitchen holding the first aid kit. It was well used. He passed it off to Healy, briefly glancing at his partner's knuckles in concern before redirecting that feeling to his daughter. He placed his hand atop her head, ruffling her hair.
“Either way, don’t think we will be seeing that sicko again. Not after that guard dog routine.”
He shot Healy a pointed look. The older man just raised an eyebrow at his partner as he wrapped his knuckles. March snorted and stage whispered to Holly.
“And you wonder why I say no animals in the house. A feral mutt, this one.”
March’s voice dropped and he shot Healy a flirtatious look. Holly gagged dramatically, but a giggle followed close behind. They hadn’t exactly talked about it, but it was clear to her that they were more than business partners at this point. She didn’t mind the thought as much as she probably should have. She liked Mr. Healy. He made her Dad better. Her dad made Mr. Healy worse. But, they made each other happy.
A bit more selfishly, Healy was a better male role model to her than her father. Don’t get her wrong, she loved her father so much it often hurt, and March loved her just as much. But he wasn’t exactly prime parent material. To give him credit where it was due, though, he was getting better. The drinking, the staying out late, the whole package.
But he was getting better because Healy was there to hold him accountable in ways Holly couldn’t. Healy was the one who would (sometimes physically) knock some sense into March when he debated downing a bottle at 11AM. Healy was there for him when the guilt of, well, everything, became too much. Out of the three of them, Healy was probably the most well adjusted, just shy of Holly. But he always insisted that some responsibilities weren’t hers, shouldn’t be hers. To let him take care of things.
She thinks that if she let him take care of things earlier, there would be a dead man on the sidewalk right now. He still might go out and hunt him down.
She must have been frowning, because March shook her gently by the shoulders and spoke up.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s order a pizza and settle in for the night. You can choose the movie!”
He said it like she didn’t already choose the movie every Friday night. She lingered on Healy for a few moments before relenting and allowing her father to drag her to the living room. By the time they’d settled in and chosen a movie (after much debate), Healy finally came into the living room and sat down next to Holly.
She gave him a suspicious look, but he quickly pacified her by handing her a yoohoo.
Sandwiched between the two, Holly fell asleep by the middle of the movie. Neither Healy or March were in a rush to move her, so it wasn’t until the movie ended that March slowly picked her up, grunting about how the kid was growing like a weed, and carried her to her bedroom.
Holly woke up tucked into her bed, still in her day clothes. She rolled over to glare at the alarm clock, which read 2:46AM. Must’ve fallen asleep during the movie. Rolling over and out of bed to get changed, she glanced out the window. Good, Mr. Healy’s car was still here.
But the sounds of footsteps in the hallway followed by her fathers whiney protests told her that it wouldn’t be there long.
Holly crept out of her room, but stayed in the hallway where she could hear them in the living room.
“Jackson, it’s late. C’mon, come back to bed.”
Holly cringed at the wording and the low way her father said it, prepared to bolt back to her room if the conversation turned raunchy.
“That guy’s still out there, March. I made a call before dinner, think I know where he is. I’ll be back by the morning.”
Holly heard her father groan in frustration. She could picture him running his hand over his mouth.
“That guy isn’t going to bother Holly again. You made sure of that. You can’t just go around killing people, either.”
March’s voice was soft in a way Holly wasn’t used to hearing. Not anymore. It was one of the many things that had made a return when Healy started sticking around.
“You don’t know that, March.”
“Actually, I do! He was practically pissing his pants when he ran off!”
“That’s not enough.”
There was a long, tense silence. They were probably glaring at each other.
“There’s nothing you could have done, Jackson.”
Holly’s face scrunched in confusion. What?
“I could have done something. I could have done my job. Maybe then Amelia would still be-”
“Amelia was going to get killed one way or another! If not Blueface or John Boy, it would have been someone else!”
March was yelling now. It clicked for Holly. She never thought Mr. Healy was feeling guilty for past jobs. Or, rather, past failures. Holly could hear Healy take a sharp breath.
“You’re right, March. I can’t do anything about Amelia now. But I can do this for Holly.”
She heard a small scuffle, likely March trying to grab Healy before he stormed off. March didn’t stand a chance when it came to Healy’s physical strength. She ran down the hall and to the living room.
“Mr. Healy!”
Both men froze and whirled around. March was in plaid pajama shorts and a white wifebeater, while Healy was fully dressed sans his shoes. His brass knuckles were on his hand, over his wrapped fist. March spoke up first.
“Holly, what are you doing up?”
“Are you going to kill that man?”
There was another tense silence as Healy and Holly stared at each other. March glanced between them with a worried expression.
“I am.”
Healy eventually answered. He stood firm, already knowing Holly was going to try and talk him out of it.
“Your father and I have made some enemies. If this guy is one of them, it will send a message. Keep you safe.”
Healy explained. There was no sense in sugarcoating it for the kid. She’d seen plenty and understood the business. Even if this was more personal, less business for Healy. Holly scoffed and shook her head.
“No, no, you aren’t doing this.”
“You can’t talk me out of this one, sweetheart.”
“You aren’t killing him!”
March stood off to the side with a tense expression, unsure of how to intervene. Should he even intervene?
Healy ran a hand over his face, sighing. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. After a few moments, he let his hand drop and looked at Holly.
“Lock up behind me, March.”
Healy turned on his heel and started for his shoes and the door. He made it three steps before something grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled as hard as it could.
He paused and glanced over his shoulder. Holly had her heels dug into the carpet and both hands bunched up in his shirt. Her face was scrunched in effort and her eyes squeezed shut. She was tugging with all her strength, but would have better luck moving a boulder.
“Holly-”
“No! You aren’t killing anyone! You aren’t going anywhere!”
She opened her eyes to glare up at him, they were starting to get a bit watery.
“You actually want to keep me safe? Then stay here.”
Healy was sure he felt his heart actually ache. Maybe those early years of excessive drinking were catching up with him, after all. Holly yanked on his shirt again, and this time he let himself be tugged along a step, turning around to face her. Holly let go and stumbled back, just to shoot forward again and grab his arm. A stray tear ran down her cheek as she strained to pull him further into the house again.
Healy glanced up at March, who stood a few feet behind Holly. He looked like he wanted to plead with Healy, too.
Goddammit.“Alright, alright, Hol’. Come on, stop before you pull somethin’-”
She dug her heels in further and pulled on his arm harder. Healy reached up and gently pried her off him.
“I’m staying, I’m staying. You got me.”
He reassured, still not entirely convinced he shouldn’t hunt the guy down. But, for now, he supposed he could stay. It probably was safer with him here to defend the house. March was useless in a fight, anyway.
Holly studied him for a few moments, trying to get a read on him. Then, she dove forward, burying her face in his shirt and wrapping her arms as far as they could around his torso. Healy stood frozen for a few moments, unsure of what to do with his hands. It was only when he gave March a pleading look, to which the younger man just chuckled, that he allowed his arms to gently wrap around her. Holly responded by squeezing harder.
Eventually, he pried her off of him and let himself be dragged along by both March’s. As they passed the kitchen, Healy put his keys and brass knuckles on the counter. When they made it to the hallway, March nudged Holly off to change into actual pajamas. She seemed hesitant to leave Healy, as if he would turn and bolt out the door if she wasn’t watching him. March reassured her that he would keep an eye on his partner and shooed her off.
Once they were alone in, what had in all honesty become, their shared room, March leaned in, wrapping his arms around Healy’s hips and kissed him gently. He gave his partner a sleepy smile when he pulled away, patting his side.
“That March family charm got you in the end, hm?”
“I will walk out now.”
“Come on, you wouldn’t do that to Holly.”
March teased, but he was right and he knew it. Healy huffed and March chuckled to himself as he crawled back into bed, collapsing with a relieved sigh. He was quick to sprawl back out while Healy got changed into sweatpants and a tank top before joining him in bed.
Healy laid on his back with a heavy sigh, arms crossed over his chest. He stared at the ceiling, deep in thought until, as per usual, March broke him out of it.
“Our daughter.”
Healy rolled over.
“Hm?”
“Earlier. You almost called her ‘our daughter’.”
March said with a small smirk, already laying on his side facing Healy.
“Slip of the tongue.”
“Bullshit. She sees you as family too, you know.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Actually, I do.”
March grinned as he pointed at the doorway. Healy looked up and saw Holly standing there, looking a little unsure. He was struck by how young she looked. Between caring for her father and herself for so long, as well as everything else they’ve experienced, it was easy for him to forget she was still just a kid.
March threw off the covers and patted the spot in the bed between them. Holly’s face lit up. It’s been a long time since she crawled into her parents bed after a rough night. Not since her mother died. She sniffled and hopped up onto the bed, laying down between them. March pulled the covers back up over them before holding her tight, his chin resting atop her head.
Healy didn’t quite know what to do or say. He wasn’t the family type. He and his ex-wife had talked about having kids, but the conversation never went anywhere. He found out why when she admitted to sleeping with his father. He blinked that memory away.
Did he stay? Did he go to sleep on the couch? This seemed to be a father-daughter moment. Then again, March had just said that, as far as Holly was concerned, he was family. But besides that, they hadn’t formally told Holly of their… relationship. Both were nervous about how she’d respond. Thing was, they weren’t exactly subtle about it at this point. Holly was a smart girl, she’d figured it out awhile ago.
A small hand on his arm broke him out of his thoughts. He glanced up and Holly smiled at him.
“You are family, Mr. Healy.”
Healy swore to himself that he wouldn’t cry. Nope. Not one tear. He took a deep breath, putting his hand atop hers, and smiled.
“‘Mr. Healy’ is a bit formal for family, don’t you think, kid?”
While Healy wasn’t going to cry, March made no such promise. He sniffled, and with a tearful smile, reached over Holly and put his hand atop Healy’s. The two interlocked their fingers over Holly, who grinned.
“So you guys are dating!”
The two sputtered for a moment, faces flushed.
“Well, I mean-”
“-we haven’t exactly put a label on it yet-”
Holly laughed, the sound relaxing them just a bit. Well, she didn’t seem upset about it. It was a win in their book.
The three of them, two fathers and a daughter, curled up together. Holly was safely bundled between them with her head resting against March’s neck, close to the golden ring he kept on a chain at all times. March had one hand under his head, while the other was wrapped around Holly’s back. Healy had his arm slung over the both of them, his hand resting on March’s hip while the other held his partner's hand on Holly’s back.
Maybe Holly was right. Maybe the way to keep her safe, to keep them safe, was to be right here. With his family.