Chapter Text
54 Wildwind Lane, Stone Ridge.
Loudoun County, Virginia.
—March 6th, 2023
• B E F O R E •
Patience steadies the hands that are laid on her shoulders, smoothing down the fabric of her dress, clasping together the hook and eye so that the neckline becomes central again.
Familiarity softens her resolve, and she lets herself relax into his touch, leaning back and through heavy lidded eyes she can just about make out his blurred face in the mirror as he presses a trail of kisses along the nape of her neck.
"You look beautiful darling."
A gentle voice ripples through the air, almost as if it's drifting away from her, but she can still feel warm, calloused fingertips drumming rhythmically against her arms.
Safe, is the word she would use to describe this moment, he was her safe place. Even though she can't picture his face properly, and his voice is just out of reach.
"You ready? It's going to be wonderful evening…"
In a split second the temperature drops.
Her figure warps against the glass of the mirror, and for a moment she's met with a different version of herself, younger, dressed in clothes she doesn't recognise, but then the air gets even cooler and goosebumps travel up her bare arms, allowing the cold to burrow deep inside.
It was a mans voice at first, but now she hears a woman's, her mothers, all distorted, drenched with disappointment.
The fingers on her arms are slender, angry, nails digging in.
"You ruined your life Rose, you ruined your chance to be someone. You messed it all up for that child."
She jerks forward to try and pull away, almost slamming into the mirror, but as she manages to steady herself the image of her mother vanishes and the room begins to warm up again.
"Hey honey, are you nearly ready?"
Emma's figure appears in the doorway, and Rose reaches up to the back of her neck, her stomach twisting when she realises that her dress is still unclasped.
"Sorry aunt Em, I was just taking a minute…could you help me with my dress? I can't quite fasten it," Rose turns back to face the mirror, gazing at her paled reflection, willing the gentle, safe hands to envelope her again, to tell her how beautiful she looks.
But then Emma comes into view behind her, with a look of undeniable love etched into her features, no distortion, no disappointment.
Her hands trail up her arms, and they feel real, anchoring her to the ground.
"You know your uncle and I, we're so proud of you Rosie, for everything you've done, everything you've been through, raising that beautiful little girl with such a gentleness, showing her how to navigate a world that isn't always kind and welcoming. You're a wonderful person, a wonderful daughter, and a wonderful mother, and I don't ever want you to forget that. Okay?"
Rose hums quietly in response, shuddering at the thought of her mothers voice tearing her apart, just glad that Emilia isn't here tonight to be woken later by the nightmares she'll undoubtedly experience.
"You'll be home all evening won't you? Just in case Milly wants to come home…"
Emma squeezes her arm, gently turning her around and pulling her in for a hug, "I'll be right here, don't you worry, I want you and Henry to enjoy yourselves tonight, leave me to do the worrying for one night."
Rose scoffs lightly, "I don't think I'll ever be able to stop worrying, not about Emilia, or either of you…" she steps back and rubs at the side of her temple to try and dissolve the impending headache.
"I'll head downstairs and make sure your uncle's ready, see you downstairs, and hey just try for one night, to stop worrying about everyone. I love you sweetheart."
Rose forces her lips to curve and pull upwards, putting on her best fake smile to relax her aunt, until she disappears and it drops so quickly that it almost hurts.
Suddenly she starts to feel suffocated, pulling at the sides of her dress to stop it from clinging to her.
There's nothing wrong with the emerald green gown really, not the way it fits her, or the way it's slightly shorter in the front and hangs more elegant in the back, 'perfect' as described by her aunt, for the launch of the European branches for their tech company.
It doesn't itch, and it's not too tight, the fabric is soft and flows easily, and she doesn't feel like she's trying to be someone else.
It's the way the sweat is beading around her the neckline, and her stomach is in knots.
Whatever she saw–imagined–hallucinated in the mirror earlier isn't helping at all.
The overwhelming feeling that something's going to happen, to go so very wrong, it's a feeling she's had for days now; yet for some reason tonight it's blossomed and burrowed under her skin like an unrelenting flower in search for the sunlight.
Emilia is safe, she reminds herself earnestly.
Henry will be safe with her.
Emma will be safe at home.
It takes at least two minutes of repeating the mantra so it's easy enough to swallow and digest before she shakes off her anxiety and focuses on finishing up with getting ready.
One more pin is pushed into the curled bun at the back of her head to keep a loose few strands of hair in place, and she douses herself in her aunts perfume once more just to be sure that it'll last for the entire evening.
Pulling the bottom of the dress off the floor, she starts to head downstairs, Emma and Henry are stood at the bottom, and Rose smiles at the sight of her aunt fixing her uncle's tie.
"I'm ready! Sorry, I lost my earring," the lie comes easily, but then it sours on her tongue at the sound of a car pulling onto the gravel, because her aunt was supposed to be driving them tonight so they're not expecting a taxi…and then the security system sends out an alert.
Movement detected at the front of the house.
Her heart starts to race, and she almost trips as she rushes the rest of the way downstairs.
Movement detected on the front porch.
Emma is staring at her, eyes wide but her face is stoic.
Henry is already loading the shotgun, putting himself in between the front door and his girls.
"Rose, Emma, upstairs."
It's not a suggestion, it's an order.
The only relief she feels, is that her uncle didn't have to say 'Emilia' because her daughter is over thirty minutes away at her best friends house right now.
Emma wants to fight, Rose can see that, the courage flickering with fear is etched into her delicate features.
Yet as she casts her gaze over to her aunt, Rose realises that she's the reason why Emma is slowly edging backwards, towards her.
"I don't want to leave you uncle Henry," the words pull her back to the time she was seven years old, when her mother had turned up unannounced to drag her away from the front porch, back to their cramped one bedroom apartment that smelled of smoke, alcohol and bad decisions.
He looks at her sympathetically, his face barely holding up the facade of bravery, "you go on now Rosie, it'll all be over soon, I promise."
It's a promise Henry doesn't know if he can keep.
But as the footsteps on the porch get louder, his heart starts to race and any resolve he had begins to dissipate.
At least when he looks over his shoulder Emma and Rose are nowhere to be seen.
Safe for now.
For as long as he can keep the intruders occupied.
His other gun is tucked away in the bottom drawer of his desk, so that's not an option.
A quick scan of the thing room offers up no alternatives aside from the fire poker or one of Emma's vases (and as much as he hates it, he can't bring himself to destroy it).
So the age old shotgun will have to do, and he utters a silent prayer that it won't get jammed.
It goes silent, for the briefest of moments, and Henry waits with bated breath, wondering if maybe the people outside have decided not to try their luck.
His question is answered pretty quickly.
The gunshot that rings out next almost deafens him, but he resists the instinctive urge to hide because otherwise they'll find Emma and Rose, and he would rather die than be a coward and risk losing his girls.
The moment before is a held breath: air thick, still, almost expectant. Then the crack that erupts, sharp and metallic, slices through the quiet like a blade through cloth.
Rose barely manages to stifle her scream when the first gunshot pierces the empty silence. The sound doesn’t just echo, it reverberates, expanding outwards in jagged waves that rattle the windows, filling their home with a sound that never belonged there, and it leaves her and Emma rooted to the spot.
She scrambles for her phone to call the cops, but her satin lined pockets are empty and she mumbles a string of curse words under her breath that would surely get her in trouble with her seven year old.
"I need to go back and get my phone," she turns to face Emma, gripping onto the bannister as tightly as she possibly can, "unless you have yours Em?"
Rose prays to get an answer of 'yes' as her knuckles turn white.
But the look of guilt on Emma's face tells her that she doesn't.
If being a mother has taught her anything, it's that sometimes you have to find courage in the situations you can't control.
"Rose, we have to hide, the security system should have alerted the police," Emma pleads with her, trying to pull her closer to the master bedroom.
"It went down this afternoon, and I only had chance to fix the motion detectors before I had to drop Milly with Lucy and Tim, so no, it won't have alerted the police, I won't be long I promise," the guilt that pools in her chest, almost drowns her, but then she hears the sound of the intruders trying to break down the front door and she uses the distraction to pull away from her aunt and heads for the staircase.
Ignoring the whispered shouting for her to come back upstairs.
Letting her feet carry her into the unknown, completely defenceless and terrified.
Henry spots her, and she freezes at the sight of the loaded shot gun in his arms, pointed at the front door which is shaking from the sheer effort of whoever is trying to break it down.
"Rose! What the hell are you doing! It's not safe down here!"
The panic in his voice triggers her own, and even as she spots her phone on the kitchen island, she can't force herself to move forward and get it.
She can't move at all.
"I need my phone, to call the police," her voice trembles, but she daren't speak any louder, terrified of the intruders who are still battling with their front door.
There's a distinct lack of photos that include Emilia in the living room, and for the first time Rose is glad, because she doesn't want whoever is invading their home to know anything about her little girl.
Just as the door flies open, the hinges creaking and groaning in protest as it swings back completely, Henry grabs her wrist and pulls her behind the couch.
No time to reach her phone.
To get back upstairs.
For her to call for help, and get them out of this hell quicker.
Instead she's tucked into her uncles side, holding his hand and trying to differentiate between her own trembling and his, hoping and maybe praying too, to whatever god there may be, that they'll make it through this alive.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, swallowing the lump in her throat so she doesn't immediately burst into tears, "I should have stayed upstairs…I love you uncle Henry."
"I love you too Rosie, so much, I promise you this will all be over soon."
Oh how she wants to believe him.
But the gruff, intimidating voices of maybe three, worst case four men fill the void, and any ounce of hope she had, disappears.
Her eyes focus on the fraying edge of the rug in front of them, and Rose tries to count her uneven breaths, but the tighter her uncle grips her hand, the more she feels her composure slip away.
They don't seem to have moved, but from their muffled conversation she figures that they're maybe half in the kitchen, half loitering in the living room behind them.
"Check upstairs."
One of them instructs, his voice is deeper and more intense than the rest.
"Shouldn't we clear the downstairs first?"
He sounds younger, but his voice is steady, and Rose clasps her hand to her chest, afraid that they'll hear her racing heart as loudly as she can as it thunders in her ears.
"We can split up, dumbass."
A third voice speaks up, sounding the least enthusiastic of all of them, but then someone else clears their throat and Rose's heart sinks to her stomach.
"They're outnumbered, so it doesn't matter who goes where. Two of you go upstairs, and two of us will stay downstairs, remember the plan and don't come back down until you find him. He's the one we need alive."
He's the one we need alive.
If they heard the whimper that she let escape her lips, they don't show it, still she presses her sweaty palm to her mouth and closes her eyes, picturing this morning in her mind.
How Emilia and Henry cooked everyone breakfast, and Rose got to sleep in, only being woken up by the sound of laughter and undeniable joy.
Her chest aches at the thought of it all seeming so far away now.
"Rose," Henry whispers, carefully setting the loaded gun on the ground beside him, "I want you to stay here, I'll cause a distraction and then you need to run upstairs and hide, if the first gun shot hasn't alerted police then if I can fire off a few warning shots, it might be enough."
"No, I'm not leaving you, it'll be better if we stay together..." there is no reality where she'd let her uncle sacrifice himself for her and her aunt Emma.
Whatever plan they might have been able to hastily put together is interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming towards them and there's not enough time to keep talking or figure out what to do, so Rose makes a split second decision that she doesn't have time to second guess or regret.
Maybe if Henry hadn't let go of her hand she wouldn't have pushed herself up, getting the attention of the two masked men walking towards the stairs.
Maybe if she hadn't given in to the intense maternal urge to protect her family then things wouldn't have gone from bad to fucking worse in no time at all.
Maybe Henry wouldn't have given himself up.
Maybe she wouldn't have found out how it feels to get shot.
The moment from spotting the gun pointed at her, and to watching the faceless man pull the trigger happens in slow motion. The force of the close range shot unbalances her and whatever instincts she may have had don't quite kick in, she barely manages to twist her body away, the pain isn't instant but as she slams into the wall a streak of white hot fire tears across her upper arm.
Henry's voice echoes through the static and she tries to focus on him, blinking back the sting of tears, desperately trying to control her breathing. If she screamed she doesn't remember, but her throat is tight, and her lungs are burning.
She can't move her left arm, but she can still feel her fingers moving even though it sends shock waves of blistering agony straight up her arm. The feeling of warm blood trailing down past her elbow tells her that it's bad, she just can't gauge how deep the wound is or if the bullet went straight through.
Henry makes it to her, and she grapples for his hand, unable to stop the sob from clawing its way out of her throat.
"You're okay sweetheart, I've got you, you're going to be fine," Henry presses his hand against Rose's gaping wound, and tries his hardest to comfort her, using a blood soaked hand to cup her cheek and brush his thumb below her eyes to wipe away her tears.
Rose searches his gaze for any unintentional fear or solemnity of the situation but all she sees is the same look of reassurance he always gives her, that tells her that everything's going to be okay.
Like when she told him she was pregnant.
Or when she finally found the courage to leave him.
Before she brought her daughter into the world.
After, when she watched on exhausted but content at the sight of Henry speaking so softly to Emilia about how everything was okay now that she was here to complete them.
For a moment everything stops and it's just them, and she has to hope that it will be okay.
The alternative is too painful to think about.
But then she sees two of the men walking towards them, and instead of being allowed to cling onto his comfort, she watches helplessly as he's ripped away from her.
She doesn't go quietly, she fights with everything she has to keep them occupied.
Because if she doesn't make it out of this, and neither does her uncle, at least Emilia will still have Emma.
As much as the thought of never seeing her baby girl again hurts worse than everything tonight, and childbirth combined, it doesn't compare to the primal ache deep inside at the thought of Emilia having no one.
Struggling is futile but even so, she tries to get away, to make it harder for them to restrain her.
Until the shorter of the two men who is trying to drag her back into the living room digs his fingers into the open wound on her arm and she screams.
Her legs give out and she's putty in their hands, being dragged across the floor like a rag doll.
In between drifting in and out of consciousness they tie her to one of the dining room chairs.
Hands and feet bound so tightly she starts to lose circulation.
Henry is propped up against the sofa, staring at her with tears in his eyes.
All the reassurance and comfort from before is long gone.
It'll all be over soon.
She tells herself, with the same childlike gentleness she uses to comfort Emilia in the trivial situations that seem so big for children.
It'll all be over soon.
She mumbles under her breath, hoping that her uncle can hear her.
Through the dizzying haze she manages to locate all four men.
One is by the door, swinging a baseball bat with the confidence of someone who knows exactly how to use it.
The second, maybe the one who sounded young has been tasked with pacing back and forth by the back patio door.
The third guy, is rifling through every drawer, every cabinet, and Rose hopes that they don't find anything that could point to Emilia.
It's the fourth that worries her the most though, who's still sniffing around the stairs.
So she does something proactive, or reckless, and catches the fourth guys attention.
"Hey asshole! What are your friends looking for? Because I'm damn sure they're not going to find anything worthwhile," her voice is thick, heavy with emotion but she manages to keep it steady.
He strides away from the stairs, and Rose swears she can see him smirking underneath the balaclava but she doesn't let him know that she's absolutely fucking terrified.
Henry's wide eyed expression from behind the man is filled with enough fear for the both of them, but she has no choice but to finish what she started now, in the hopes that it'll be enough to stop them from making their way upstairs.
He kneels down in front of her, so close can feel his hot breath against her face, and she flinches away from his outstretched hand.
Sour memories flash to the forefront of her mind. Of Emilia's dad, a man she still sees in her nightmares, and aside from the fact that he gave her the most precious thing in the world, he gave her a hell of a lot more than she bargained for; scars and trauma that run so deep she's still scared they'll never heal.
"You're feisty one aren't you little lady? Now are you going to be a problem we have to deal with or are you going to sit there quietly and leave us be?"
The thought of her mind even trying to conjure up what this man looks like makes her feel sick to her stomach, because even with his face covered she knows he's ugly, underneath the mask and beyond that.
"Get the fuck out of my face, and tell your sick fucking friends to get out of our goddamn house."
She expected some kind of retaliation, maybe verbal, potentially physical, but when his ring clad fist comes into contact with her cheek, it knocks the wind out of her.
Somewhere in the background she hears Henry shouting, maybe he says 'get your hands off her' but she can't quite make it out.
Everything's gone fuzzy and she has to bite her tongue to distract herself from the overwhelming urge to throw up.
Without any warning another shot rings out, but she can't tell where it came from or where it was directed.
When she finally pulls herself together, the man who was rifling through their kitchen drawers and the one who's ring has just torn her cheek open are taking turns to use her uncle as a human punching bag.
With every blow that lands, she screams, unable to tear her eyes away from her uncle's near lifeless body on the floor in front of her.
The crimson blooms from underneath his crumpled white shirt.
The gunshot wound almost is invisible beneath the pooling blood, she doesn't even try to stifle the strangled sob that spills from her lips.
She's powerless now, exhaustion creeping in, her hands bound even tighter from struggling against the restraints, the cut on her face is weeping, she can taste the blood as it trails down her cheek and pools by the corner of her mouth.
The coppery sharpness stings as it coats her tongue, so she clamps her mouth shut and tries to stave off the bile rising in her throat.
Henry is trying to move, to fight back in any way he can, but then one of the thugs swings his bat landing a heavy blow to the back of Henry's head, and he goes limp.
The sheer terror that tears through her is ice cold.
"Henry! No! Wake up, please, you have to wake up!" The words are torn from her throat, and they come out as strangled cries of despair.
The third man stops and points his gun at her, but she doesn't move, doesn't even flinch, too tired, too drained to react.
"Shut the fuck up! Or I'll beat your father within an inch of his life, and then make him watch as I kill you so it's the last thing he sees."
Rose had spent most of her childhood wishing Emma and Henry were her parents; they were as good as in all but name, but it still felt like a hollow promise, one made to herself meant as a distraction for the time she spent with her mother for all the times she'd been let down by a woman who was supposed to love and care for her unconditionally.
But now, she feels like she's let him down, let Emma down, Emilia too.
For not being strong enough.
For not fighting back harder.
For not just staying upstairs like she should have.
For not taking a little extra time this morning to fix the goddamn security system so she wouldn't be looking at her uncle's rigid body as he bleeds out on the carpet.
The sirens are the first things she hears, she notices them before the men do, and for a split second she basks in the relief, but then the fourth guy kneels down in front of her and wraps his right hand around the gaping wound on her arm and squeezes tightly, warm fresh blood trickles down her arm but the sensation dulls almost instantly, if she had any energy left she would have cried out...but she's so fucking tired.
"You'll see us again, don't you worry about that. Next time we'll make sure to finish the job."
She pictures his smirk again, until he lets go and her vision blurs, the loss of contact being the upheaval of whatever was anchoring her to reality.
The last thing she hears is the back door slamming and hurried footsteps running down the stairs before she succumbs to the darkness.
𓇢𓆸.ꫂ ၴႅၴ𓂃✍︎⋆.
• A F T E R •
Emma stands in the corridor outside Rose's room slowly pacing, making sure she can still see Emilia who's half asleep in the chair beside her mothers bed.
Running on no sleep, she gratefully accepts the coffee from Tim, trying not to remind herself that she's had four already.
"Thank you. Will you keep an eye on Milly for me please? I want to call that number Lucy gave me for personal security before they close."
Stifling a yawn she takes a sip of the scalding hot liquid, it burns as it travels down her throat but it warms her up.
"Sure thing, you know I don't mind taking her back to ours to sleep, Mei loves sleepovers with Milly, and I promise it's no hassle Emma."
As kind as Tim's offer is, and as much as she knows that Milly will enjoy it, her stomach twists at the thought of not having her here with her right now.
"Thanks Tim, but I just want to keep Milly here with me…and after tonight, I think Rose will want Milly close," Emma holds up her phone, "I'll be a few minutes tops."
Waiting until Tim slips into Rose's hospital room before she walks down the hallway to the small waiting area that's practically desolate so late at night.
The crumpled post-it note unfurls as she opens her fist, and she sinks down on the hard plastic chair, ready to dial the number, hoping she isn't too late.
After the fifth ring she gets ready to hang up, but then someone picks up and as the static clears a mans voice comes through.
"Hello, you've reached Night Action Security Services, Jamie Hawkins speaking how can I help?"
"Hi, my name is Emma Campbell, I was referred to you by a friend and I was hoping to get a bit more insight into the services you provide."
"Of course ma'am, we offer 3 different packages, with Copper being the lowest and Gold being the highest but it all depends on affordability, your situation and the length of time you wish to use our services for."
"To put it simply Jamie money is no object where my family's safety is concerned, and I want the very best you have to offer, package, person however it works. We were targeted tonight, a home invasion that has left my husband and niece hospitalised and myself terrified. So, do you have any packages suitable for me?"
Jamie clears his throat on the other end of the line and Emma tenses at the sight of a nurse walking towards her, but at the last second she veers to the nurses station and she collapses back into the chair.
"I'm very sorry to hear about your husband and niece Mrs Campbell, personally I would recommend our Gold package with two part time agents or one full time agent with our relief add-on to cover two or three days a week mostly during the afternoon through to late evening."
Emma presses her fingertips against her throbbing temple and regret begins to seep in about drinking the fourth coffee.
"How long would it take? To have someone sent out if I chose the Gold package with a full-time agent and the relief add-on?"
All she wants to do is go and sit with Rose and Milly, waiting for an update on Henry.
"We can have someone sent out to you tomorrow Mrs Campbell. I don't want to keep you on the phone too much longer so I'll email over everything you need to sign and fill out, I just need your preferred payment method now so I can set it up and store it securely on our files.."
Five minutes later and Emma can breathe a little easier knowing that as of tomorrow they'll have some protection.
"Thank you for all your help Jamie. I'll get everything signed and sent over as soon as possible. Will there be any insight available into who you'll be assigning to us?"
"I have the perfect agent for your detail Mrs Campbell, I just need to clarify if he's available before I send over his information. Providing he is, once you've sent back all of the paperwork, then I'll call you in the morning with an ETA. I can have him sent to your home or the hospital whichever you'd prefer."
"Can I let you know in the morning? Everything's just so up in the air right now."
"Of course, if that's everything then I'll call you tomorrow Mrs Campbell."
"Yes, thank you Jamie, speak tomorrow."
Emma lets Jamie hang up and she feels herself deflate, any energy she had left that didn't come from the bitter vending machine coffee was used on that phone call.
She isn't sure how she's supposed to survive the night on nothing but fumes and adrenaline.
With Henry in surgery and Rose under a mandatory 72-hour observation period before she can even be considered for discharge, until their new security arrives there's no way she's leaving the hospital, her husband, her niece or the closest thing she'll ever have to a granddaughter alone.
When she finally looks up from her phone she spots Tim waving her over so she pushes herself up and strides down the hallway.
"Is everything okay?" She manages to soften her tone, despite the agitation stemming from sheer exhaustion fighting to push through.
Tim nods his head in the direction of the doorway, "Rose is awake, I told her you were just making a call but she's a bit distressed so I told her I'd see if you were done. Emilia's fast asleep. If you want me to hang around let me know, but Lucy and I are just a phone call away Emma."
Emma can't quite bring herself to feel relieved just yet, but her heart stops racing and her mind clears a little.
"Go on get out of here Tim, thanks for sticking around. I'll let you know when Henry gets out of surgery, but drive safe, and tell Lucy I say thanks as well."
Tim nods and smiles at her gently, shrugging his jacket on.
"It's no problem Em, I'll try and ask around the guys on the night shift when I get home to get an update on where forensics are at and when they'll be finished. See you later, and remember we're only a phone call away if you need anything please don't hesitate to call."
Emma waits until he disappears around the corner before she walks back into Rose's hospital room, the sight of her pale, tear streaked face is enough to shatter her heart into even more pieces than it already is.
"Oh sweetheart, you're okay. It's okay, you're safe now I promise," she lets the door click softly behind her so she doesn't risk waking Emilia and then she crosses the room and settles on the edge of the bed, reaching out to brush her thumb against her nieces cheek, wiping away the fresh tears.
Rose struggles to steady her breathing as her chest heaves, with Emilia asleep in the chair beside her bed and Emma right in front of her, all she can think about is her uncle Henry.
Flashes of his lifeless body in a pool of dark crimson come flooding back, and she almost chokes on the guilt and the fear as they fight to claw their way up her throat.
"Uncle Henry," she whispers, pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth to try and stall the sobs that almost spill out, "is he okay? Please tell me he's okay..."
Emma inches forward, gently pulling Rose into her arms, just holding her for a moment, finally able to breathe after being paralysed with the fear of never being able to hold her girl again.
"He's in surgery, but he's doing okay," every sob from Rose that shakes her body tightens her throat but Emma refuses to break down right now because Rose needs her to be strong, "you're both going to be fine sweetheart and that's all that matters, I've got you now, I'm right here Rosie."
"I'm sorry," she hiccups through a sob, with her left arm strapped to her chest, her right hand grasps onto the woollen fabric of Emma's knit sweater, "I shouldn't have left you, I should have stayed upstairs…I'm so sorry."
This time Emma pulls back, just enough so that Rose can see her face, and she cups her flushed, tear stained cheeks so she doesn't look away, "Rosie, you might have just saved your uncles life, if they hadn't been distracted with you they'd have done a lot worse to him. He'll never admit this because he would never have wanted you to put yourself in that situation, but if you hadn't gone back for your phone, if you hadn't have been brave, braver than I ever could be, he would have been in the morgue right now not on an operating table. I don't want you to blame yourself, I want you to be proud of yourself, of the courage you held in the face of something so fucking terrifying. Okay? You saved his life, and hell you saved mine too."
Between her shuddering breaths, and quieting sobs she nods, leaning forward into the safety of her aunts embrace again. The only place she's ever felt loved unconditionally, wanted and protected, the mother she wished she could have had for the first half of her life.
The blueprints for the mother she's trying to be, because if she can be half the person that her aunt Emma has been for her, then maybe Emilia will know above all else that she's loved and cherished, and that she was always wanted.
"Is Milly alright? What did you tell her?" Finally her body stops working against her, and she feels the fear and adrenaline dissolve into deep rooted exhaustion, slumping back against the hard hospital pillows and training her gaze on the sleeping form of her daughter.
Hanging onto Emma's hand even when she moves from the edge of the bed to the other chair.
"I told her that you and Henry had been in an accident, I didn't go into detail, but I couldn't lie to her completely. I didn't want to leave her at Tim and Lucy's, I wanted her here with me. Tim was brilliant, he stopped with her in here until I finished sorting a few things out and he promised to keep me updated on the forensics and police situation at home."
Rose smiles fondly, she had met Lucy six years ago, not long after she moved back home with her aunt and uncle, when Emilia was barely a year old and Emma had encouraged her to meet with some of the other mothers in the neighbourhood.
From the get go she'd written it off, even before stepping inside the community centre but after spending nearly ten minutes loitering in the parking lot Lucy had come over to her with her daughter Mei, a few months older than Emilia, and asked her if she would prefer to find a place that didn't look as though all it would do was entertain bitchy mothers and offer up unsolicited judgment.
Something Rose knew she couldn't have handled at that point in her life.
They'd spent the next month meeting up at various diners and places where their girls could play until their friendship extended beyond meet-up points and they alternated between her aunts house and Lucy and Tim's place.
Now here they are, six nearly seven years later, with each other on school collection lists and down as secondary emergency contacts just in case. No plans made in advance, no knocking, no awkwardness and nothing hidden, Rose had always wanted a friend like Lucy, and now their girls had each other too.
"You should sleep, you look exhausted aunt Em," Rose coaxes gently, rubbing her thumb against Emma's knuckles to remind herself that she's still there.
"I'm not sleeping until Henry's out of surgery, but you should try get an hour or two just in case Emilia wakes up early. It's almost 1am, and she's been spark out for a couple of hours now."
Rose twists herself around so she can get a better view of Milly, who's clutching her blue care bear close to her chest, her dark brown mess of curls covering her face. Emma always reminds her that she gets the unruly curls from her, but Rose knows that her hair was never quite that out of control, she likes to imagine it though because it helps her detach from the man who will never be worth the title of father, and who will never ever know how amazing her little girl is, that yes she inherited his curls, and his blue eyes, but they'll always be softer, kinder.
How she's ten times the person he'll ever be, at just seven years old.
How she's nothing like him, and how one day when she's older, Rose will tell Milly the whole story and explain that she gets her bravery from her, but also that she gave it to her in the first place. If Rose had never had Emilia, then she never would have left. Not alive anyway.
Just as she tries to get comfortable, she unintentionally flexes the muscles in her left arm, her breath hitches and she closes her eyes, the whole of her upper arm pulsating with hot, barely bearable pain.
"Hey, are you okay honey? Do you want me to fetch the nurse and see if you can have some more pain relief?"
It seems silly to even consider refusing but there's a little voice in the back of her mind that's telling her she deserves to suffer, and she can't quite shut it out.
"No," she shakes her head and plasters what she hopes turns out to be a convincing smile onto her face, "I'll be fine, why don't you go take a walk? Get something to eat, get some air. I'll wait until you're back to fall asleep, I just want to watch her for a little while anyway."
Emma doesn't leave straight away and Rose chews on the inside of her cheek until she draws blood, trying to shift her focus to anything but the persistent, nauseating throbbing that's encompassing her arm, slowly moving up to her shoulder and down past her elbow until her fingertips start to go all fuzzy.
Until eventually her aunt pulls her hand away and stands up, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss against the top of her head.
"I won't be too long honey, but I'll ask one of the nurses to pop in and check on you when they get chance, and Rose, sweetheart?"
She glances up at her aunt as she stands in the doorway, illuminated by the bright white overhead lights that are spilling in through the gap, "yeah?"
"You don't have to be brave anymore, you did such a good job back there but you can rest now, you're safe honey. We all are."
Emma closes the door behind her and Rose feels herself falling apart.
The gentle reminder hits her like a freight train, barely able to stifle the first sob that is ripped from her throat, the second and third she muffles with her hand so she doesn't risk waking Emilia up.
Heavy, all consuming guilt settles on her chest, the weight of everything that happened tonight flashes through her mind like a violating, violent reminder in the form of a film reel, highlighting the worst parts.
Part of her wants to wake Emilia up so she can be selfish and latch onto the comfort of having her daughter in her arms, but she doesn't, settling for watching her as she shifts and mumbles something incoherent. Working on slowing her breathing down until her lungs no longer feel like they're on fire and the world doesn't feel so off balance.
When Emma comes back she's half asleep, and Rose searches her stoic features through her own heavy lidded gaze for any indication of an update on Henry.
"He's out of surgery honey, he's going to be fine. They said he'll be in recovery for the next few hours while they let him rest and come round. A nurse is going to come and let me know when he's ready for visitors. Get some sleep now sweetheart we can talk more in the morning," before Emma can sit down she pulls the blanket further up so Rose is covered and then she casts her gaze over to Emilia.
"Want me to tuck her in with you?"
Through the ache of relief, she nods in response to Emma's question.
So Emma walks over to Emilia and carefully scoops her up.
She stirs and lifts her head up slightly one hand clutching her teddy and the other pushing her hair out of her face, "Mimi? Where are we going?"
The groggy rasp of her voice reminding her so much of Rose when she was younger, and all the times she begged for five more minutes in bed.
"Your mommy wants a cuddle. You just have to remember to be gentle okay sweetheart."
Emilia nods and twists herself around until she can see her mom, her sleepy, gap tooth grin enough to coax a smile from her too.
Rose shifts to the left and lifts her right arm up, waiting until Emma lowers Emilia down to wrap her arm around her little girl; basking in the warmth of pure content anchored with relief when Emilia curls up beside her and buries her head in her chest.
"I love you mommy."
Her heart lurches at the childlike confession of love. How easily she expresses her adoration, even when she's half-asleep and how it never ceases to amaze her, or make her undeniably proud. It's the little moments like this that give her some much needed clarity that she's doing a good job.
So she clings onto that instead of the heavy reminder that she came so close to never hearing her daughter say that again.
"I love you more sweetie," Rose whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Emilia's head.
Between a barely stifled yawn Rose hears a muffled response of 'love you most' and her heart melts.
Still not entirely sure what she did to deserve such an amazing little girl.
She pulls the blanket over her a little more so she's properly tucked in and then lays her head back against the pillows turning to face Emma who looks half asleep too.
"Will you wake me up before you go see Henry, please."
Even if it means she won't get as much sleep as she needs, she knows she won't sleep well in the cramped hospital bed anyway, not with the slowly returning pain in her arm as the medicine continues wearing off. But she has a feeling she won't be sleeping properly for a long time after tonight.
"If it's not too early then I will, but you need your rest. I love you so much Rosie, we both do."
The conversation regarding personal security, Emma decides can wait a few more hours, and she reaches out to rest her hand on Rose's arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"I love you too aunt Em, if you do go and see him without me will you tell him? That I love him so much," her eyes are already closing but she fights it for just a little bit longer, hanging on to hear her aunt reply.
"He knows that Rose, but of course I can. Now close your eyes honey, get some sleep. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. I promise."
The reassurance does little to settle her racing, anxiety ridden thoughts but it'll have to do, because she can't fight it any longer and before she can come up with some sort of barely coherent response, she drifts off.
𓇢𓆸.ꫂ ၴႅၴ𓂃✍︎⋆.
The sun is spilling through the gaps in the almost transparent blinds when Rose forces her eyes open after a fitful few hours of broken sleep.
Emilia is still curled up against her side, her fist wound tightly in the thin fabric of her hospital gown. Her care bear tucked snugly in the crook of her elbow.
She feels awful, but she's not sure what's contributing more to just how dreadful she feels.
The awful stretch of sleep she got. The dull, throbbing ache in her arm. Or the reason why they're even at the hospital in the first place, and the pit of festering grief and guilt buried deep inside.
Emma's not here, but her coat is hanging over the back of the chair so Rose knows she hasn't gone far.
Without risking waking Emilia up, Rose doesn't have a lot of options available, she doesn't even think she could get up to pee right now lest she disturb her daughter in the process and spend the rest of the day rueful of her decision when she has to occupy a cranky, bored and overstimulated seven year old who would rather be anywhere but a hospital, not that she's at all confident she'd even be steady enough on her feet to walk across the room to the bathroom.
Her phone is just out of reach, and she doesn't want to press the call button on the little remote attached to the bed rail, because she doesn't have an emergency she just has a full bladder and a dead arm.
The clock on the wall opposite glares at her, moving deliberately slow as the minutes drag on. It's just past 8:30 but it doesn't feel like the right time, her body clock is already messed up, playing catch up for sleep she'll never get back.
Rose wonders if she puts on a brave face and acts convincingly enough to the right people that maybe she can try and swing an early discharge, although she's scared of not feeling safe anywhere else, and she doesn't know if she's ready to spend time alone with Emilia back at home so soon after.
So she decides against it, pushing the idea to the back of her mind.
Choosing to focus on the smell of coffee filtering through the open door and her stomachs ridiculous timing to make demands for breakfast.
When her bladder becomes far too impatient and the discomfort starts to twist into pain, she makes the decision to wake Emilia up, and hopes that she can get to the bathroom in time and preferably without hurting herself even more.
"Hey baby girl," Rose begins quietly, brushing aside the loose strands of hair that have fallen in front of her face, "can you wake up for me? Mommy needs to go to the toilet."
Emilia grumbles, twisting away from the sunshine and burying her head deeper into her chest.
Rose can just make out the half asleep head shake, followed by a mumbled reply that might have been sassier if she had more energy and hadn't been woken up before she wanted to be. Most days she counts her blessings that Milly loves sleep as much as she does. Today is not one of those days.
Somehow Rose manages to shift Emilia off of her and also manoeuvre herself off the bed without doing anymore damage.
It takes her over a minute to get her bearings but once she feels steady enough on her feet she heads in the direction of the bathroom, raking her fingers through the unruly mess of her hair, trying to decide what's just a knot and what's dried blood.
She makes a point of avoiding her reflection until she can't, and as she stands by the sink, steadying herself with one hand on the basin, her gaze travels upwards and her breath catches in her throat.
The reflection staring back at her can't be hers, because she doesn't recognise herself.
Aside from the dark circles under her eyes and the state of her hair, her complexion is ghostly pale and the dressing on her cheek isn't quite big enough to hide the redress of the wound underneath or the surrounding bruises beginning to surface.
Her throat tightens as she grapples with the physical reminders of the ordeal.
It could have been so much worse, but Rose isn't ready to confront or digest the silver linings of making it out alive.
Henry almost died, but the recovery he's going to have to endure won't be easy either and she doesn't think the blame she's placed on herself will be easy to shift.
"Rose, honey?"
Emma's muffled voice reaches out to her and pulls her back to reality.
So she turns the faucet on and stands there for another thirty seconds watching the water swirl around the sink before she turns it off and leaves the solitude of the bathroom.
"Hey, sorry I needed a minute. How is uncle Henry?" Rose waves at Emilia who is finally awake and sitting cross legged on the bed, she smiles at her briefly before turning her attention back to what Rose figures must be Emma's phone.
"He's doing well all things considered. The nurses are amazed honestly, he's got some energy and he's chatting with anyone and everyone. But mostly he wants to see you if you're up for it? I was going to get one of the officers at the house to bring you some clothes but then Lucy messaged me and offered to do it. She should be here in a minute, she just needed to find a parking spot."
Rose lowers herself into the chair and winces when she accidentally knocks her arm, biting her tongue instead of swearing in front of Emilia.
Trying to take in all of the information that Emma has just relayed to her.
"Is there somewhere we can go for some decent coffee and maybe breakfast? I don't want to feel any crappier than I do before we go and see him," nothing sounds appetising right now, but she knows she needs to eat something.
Emma is about to offer to head down to the hospital cafeteria but then Lucy appears in the doorway with a rucksack slung over her shoulder, a brown paper bag and three cups of coffee.
Rose could cry at the sight of her best friend but she manages to compose herself.
"My hero," she half smiles and pushes herself up to greet her, "thanks for coming Luce."
Lucy strides across the room and sets everything down before enveloping her in a gentle but emotionally charged embrace.
"I'd have spent the night with you if you'd have asked Rosie. I'm so glad you're both okay. Tim and I are here for all of you, no matter what until you're back on your feet."
Emma smiles gratefully at Lucy and then she turns her attention to Emilia who's still engrossed in whatever game she's playing on her phone.
"Come on sweetheart, lets go for a walk while mommy gets dressed. Maybe we can even go and see the babies."
Emilia's head snaps up at the mention of babies and it's only then that she finally realises Lucy's there.
"Hi auntie Lucy! Did you bring Mei with you?"
She's giddy as she clambers off the bed and darts across the room before barrelling into Lucy's arms.
Rose watches as Lucy scoops her up with ease and spins her round, earning a few high pitched giggles.
"I didn't, sorry sweetie pie. But she asked me to tell you she says hi, and she misses you lots."
Emilia nods proudly as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "well I miss her too."
"We'll have to rearrange that sleepover soon," Rose glances at Lucy who nods at her sympathetically.
The guilt rushes to the surface again but then Lucy interrupts her dark train of thought before she can spiral any deeper.
"There's fresh croissants in the bag for everyone and I got pancakes for miss Milly, there's also some yogurt and fruit cups in there if she wants that instead. Your coffee cup should have an 'E' on the lid Em."
"Thanks Lucy you're a star, do you mind if I grab something for Emilia so we can go for a walk?" Sensing that Emilia is getting a little antsy, she hatches a plan to keep her occupied for little while, whilst also giving Rose a chance to breathe and relax before they go and see Henry.
"Of course, take something for yourself too, there's plenty I promise."
Emma pulls out two warm croissants and grabs her coffee, "we won't be long honey, call me if you need anything."
Rose nods gratefully, gesturing for Emilia to come over before Emma whisks her away.
Emilia bounces over and wraps her arms around her middle, "I love you mommy."
And Rose does her best to hug her back with only one functioning arm, "I love you too baby girl, be good for Mimi okay? I'll see you soon."
Emma comes over to take her hand coaxing her away and as soon as they're gone Rose deflates and sinks down on the edge of the bed.
"How are you really doing Rose? No bullshitting me, because I know you're not okay."
Lucy sits down beside her and takes her hand, but her closeness doesn't make anything feel lighter. Not in the way it normally does.
This is just something she has to shoulder alone.
"I don't really want to talk about it, sorry Luce, I know you just want to help and I love you for it but I'm still processing everything and I think it'll take a bit of time before I'm ready to willingly relive it."
'Willingly' excludes the fact that she'll be reliving it in her nightmares for a long time yet.
"I understand, but I'll be here when you're ready to talk. Whether that's a week from now or a couple of months. Now, you're going to eat at least half a croissant and drink some coffee and then you're going to let me do your hair and help you get dressed, no arguments. Do we have a deal?"
Rose knows that trying to argue with Lucy is futile so she doesn't even try, "you have yourself a deal, but only if you promise not to coddle me or treat me like I'm one more inconvenience away from shattering completely. I don't think I could handle it from you as well."
Emma is already walking on eggshells around her and she's dreading the thought of going home and being handled with kid gloves.
"Don't you worry Larkin, you won't get any special treatment from me, I just wanted to remind you that I know you're tough, but you don't have to be strong all the time, not anymore."
Lucy gently bumps her shoulder against her own before getting up and grabbing the rucksack from the foot of the bed.
As true as what Lucy said may be, Rose wishes it was that easy to forgive herself for something she didn't directly cause. Or that she could explain to someone exactly how she feels without sounding insane.
"Can I request an adult hairstyle?'' Rose questions with a look of slight amusement when Lucy produces a sparkly hairbrush from the rucksack.
"No, you can't. This is Lucy Chen's salon and fashion boutique. Unfortunately for you I get all the creative control."
She grins and Rose can't help but match her expression, feeling her spirits lift ever so slightly.
"Fine, fine. Do whatever you deem necessary, and I'll try and not hate it when you're done. At the very least I won't tell you that I do so I don't hurt your feelings...although I'm not sure I should be inflating your ego either."
Lucy's look of mock hurt almost passes as real and Rose can't hold in her laugh.
"You're lucky that I can't hit you with this hairbrush!"
«»
Half an hour later and she's feeling a little bit more like herself again.
Shedding the hospital gown and drowning in her own clothes helps the most, but the pain in her arm is what's pulling her back into the darker corners of her mind.
Every sharp flash of pain, every dull throb that matches her heartbeat, every sudden jolt, every deep ache.
Any pain relief she got last night wore off hours ago, and she just wishes she hadn't been so stubborn and just let Emma get the nurse earlier this morning.
"Hey Lucy, would you mind going to find a nurse. My arm is killing me," when she finally relents, she doesn't expect to feel worse but the self-pity is jarring and it turns her stomach.
Before she can change her mind Lucy has already agreed and is heading out the door.
Leaving her alone, properly, for the first time since the attack.
Maybe it won't always feel like this—she tells herself—suffocating, with the need to be on high alert.
Paranoia making her study every person who walks past the doorway.
Scanning for anything that seems off, even though she's not sure what she's looking for.
There's still some dried blood underneath her fingernails and the inside of her cheek and tongue are so sore. Her throat feels tight and every time she swallows it feels like she's going to choke.
Fear has taken root in her chest, festering with the guilt and the self hatred.
8 years ago seemed like such a distant memory before last night, she's worked so hard to get to a good place but in the space of twenty-four hours all of her progress has come undone.
Every emotion, every feeling from back then kicks in like some tortuous muscle memory.
The interruption of a nurse entering the room pulls her back to reality.
"Hi Miss Larkin, your friend asked me to come and see you. She's just taking a call but she'll be right back. I'm nurse Daniels but you can call me Elena. How are you feeling, aside from the pain?"
Rose considers lying, but that won't get her anywhere or anything but a longer stay in here.
"I feel okay for the most part, I'm just trying to process everything," not a lie exactly, just stretching the truth, she is trying, "do you think there's a chance I could be discharged sooner than 72 hours?"
Nurse Daniels hands her a tiny paper cup with two pills inside, and then pours her a glass of water. Her overly enthusiastic smile gets under her skin and she tries to keep her expression neutral.
"It's not likely, you need the rest to start healing. Sorry, I know it's not the news you were hoping to hear hon. But you're in the best place. That's morphine by the way, we could put you on an I.V. drip that runs every four hours, but your aunt suggested pills so you wouldn't be confined to your room. I'll pop back later with your next dose just before my shift ends, if you need anything else in the meantime just come to the nurses station and someone will help you."
Rose tilts her head back and lets the pills drop onto her tongue, downing half the cup of water to help them go down, and then she slowly sips the rest of it so she doesn't throw them back up.
"Thank you," she offers up as sincerely as possible, but she doesn't say anything else, hoping the nurse will get that she wants to be alone.
She does, and as soon as she's gone Rose closes her eyes, focusing on taking steady, even breaths.
While she can't go home, not that she'd even feel safe, she wants to be anywhere but here right now.
"Hey Rosie, you ready to go see Henry?"
Emma is standing in the doorway when she opens her eyes again.
Emilia is nowhere to be seen and for a split second her heart jumps into her throat.
"Milly's with Lucy, don't worry. I didn't want to overwhelm her, and I wanted you to have some time alone with your uncle."
She feels stupid for even thinking that Emma would have let anything happen to Milly.
"Why did this happen to us aunt Em? Why us? Why did they choose our home, our family?"
Emma crosses the room and stops in front of Rose, gently pulling her up and into her arms.
"Because they're bad people, and they thought they could get away with it. Whatever they were there for, they failed to complete it. They'll get caught, and get what they deserve, but more importantly they won't come back, okay?"
Rose tucks her chin a little further into Emma's shoulder, flashes of what one of the intruders said to her before he left fill her mind.
'You'll see us again, don't you worry about that. Next time we'll make sure to finish the job.'
Instead of bringing it up she pulls back and gives Emma a reassuring smile, "let's go see Henry."
When they reach his room Rose hesitates taking a step back just as Emma reaches for the door handle.
Emma can see the apprehension in her eyes when she turns around, so she holds out her hand, "come on sweetheart it's okay."
"What if he hates me? What if he blames me?" There's no way she'd be able to handle either of those scenarios.
Not when she blames herself too.
"Oh Rose honey, he doesn't blame you and he could never hate you. He's been asking to see you since he came round. He loves you so much and I don't think that could ever change."
Her need to see him outweighs her fears, and she knows she won't be able to relax until she sees that he's okay with her own eyes.
"I just can't stop seeing him laid there in a pool of blood..." Rose bites her lip and tries to swallow the lump forming in her throat.
Emma doesn't know if anything says will help, but she can pull her in for a hug and remind her that it's okay now and that they're safe.
Rose takes a deep breath and relaxes into her aunts embrace, "I just want to go home, I want everything to go back to normal. Yesterday feels so far away now."
"I know honey," Emma soothes, gently rubbing her hand up and down Roses back, "come on, he needs to see you as much as you need to see him."
Rose finally pulls away and moves towards the door, preparing herself to see the state her uncles in.
Pushing the door handle down, the door creaks as she opens it wider until she can see him.
He's facing the window and Rose clears her throat trying her best to smile, "hey uncle Henry."
Nothing could have prepared her for all the bruising and the stitches, his arms are covered and he looks ghostly pale beneath the green, blue and purple, but his face doesn't seem too bad, a couple of stitches here and there and a darker bruise under his eye.
"Hey Rosie...oh sweetheart come here."
Hearing him say her name breaks her completely and she gravitates towards him, sinking down into the chair beside his bed before her legs give way.
Emma sits down in the other chair and rests her hand against Henry's leg, letting Rose and Henry have their moment.
Henry reaches for her hand and Rose holds onto him as tightly as she can without hurting him, terrified that he'll be ripped away from her again.
"I'm so sorry, I couldn't do anything and they could've killed you. I don't ever want to know what it's like to almost lose you ever again."
"Rosie, it wasn't your fault, and I don't want you to ever blame yourself. You saved your aunts life when you stopped those men from going upstairs, and you saved my life too."
Rose shakes her head but doesn't say anything, not trusting herself to not breakdown.
They sit there for a little while, none of them wanting to interrupt the calm silence.
Henry doesn't take his eyes off Rose, who after pulling the chair as close to the bed as she possibly could, laid her head on his shoulder.
Emma can see the fear in his eyes, and it breaks her heart to see it overpower the love.
Disturbing the peace is the last thing she wants to do, but she knows they have to talk about the decision she made last night and preferably before Lucy brings Milly back.
Then, as if the universe is giving her a sign, her phone buzzes with a notification she didn't expect to receive so soon.
"I took it upon myself to look into personal security last night," Emma begins, garnering both her husband and niece's attention, "if neither of you think it's a good idea I can cancel the package, but if not then I'll go and meet him downstairs."
Rose feels her lips downturn into a frown as she lifts her head off of her uncles shoulder, and her guard goes up, "what do you mean personal security? Are you sure we can trust this company, this man you say is downstairs? Can you trust him with my life, your lives, Milly's life?"
Emma feels Henry's hand tighten around hers, and she softens at his touch, "Lucy recommended the company to me, and yes, I would trust this man with your life, Henry's life, my life, and Milly's life. Because I don't want to ever go through a situation like last night, to come so close to losing you both. When I came down those stairs…Jesus Rose, I thought you were both gone. I want to keep you safe and I can't do that on my own. So the man downstairs is someone who can help with that. His name is Peter Sutherland Junior, he's 27, he's a former FBI agent, and he's the best they've got."
He's the best they've got.
Rose scoffs, "do we even really have a choice Emma?"
She hates the coolness of her tone, but she's exhausted and the fear from last night is still clinging to her bones.
"Yes of course you have a choice Rosie," Emma placates, "he's not just going to be here for me and Henry but you and Milly too. If you're not comfortable then we can figure something else out."
Emma reaches for Rose's hand but she pulls back and her heart lurches.
"Is your other solution to live in Fort Knox? Change our identities and run away?" She doesn't know why she's being so defensive, maybe it's because her aunt Emma just sprung this on her without giving her time to come round to the idea, or maybe she just doesn't want a strange guy to suddenly be inserted into their lives, regardless of his purpose.
"Rosie," Henry takes his nieces hand and squeezes gently, "give him a chance okay? And if you don't think he's a good fit then we can discuss other options. Does that sound fair?"
Her heart is begging her to say no and disagree, but her head is forcing her to think logically so she weighs up the options in her head and decides that no matter how she feels the most important thing is that her family is safe.
"Okay fine," she acquiesces, "I'm sorry aunt Em, I didn't mean to be so defensive."
Emma smiles sympathetically at her niece and shakes her head, "don't worry about it honey. I know it's a lot to get your head around and maybe I could have brought it up earlier, but I promise if you don't feel comfortable or if you just don't like him we'll go figure something else out."
Rose nods, reaching out to rest her hand on top of her aunts, "want me to go and meet him?"
Already mentally preparing herself to meet this stranger, until there's a knock at the window and Rose sees Lucy looking at her with a smile.
"No, don't worry sweetheart, I'll go you stay here with your uncle and Milly."
Rose waves Lucy in and pushes a smile onto her face so that when the door opens her daughter isn't met with a frown.
Emilia bursts through the door beaming and Rose wishes that she could steal some of her childlike optimism.
"Hi mommy! Hi Mimi!"
Emilia runs to her first and then stops when she sees Henry in the hospital bed and all of a sudden she goes quiet, her dark brown eyes full of curiosity but Rose can see she's a little bit scared and unsure.
Her small hand grasps her own as she steps back, and Rose leans forward to rest her chin gently on Milly's shoulder, "it's just your papa sweet girl, I know he looks a little scary with all the wires and the bruises but he's okay. You can say hi baby."
Henry casts aside his own emotions and plasters a smile on his face, hoping that Milly will see that it’s okay, and that she has no reason to be scared.
"Hey sweetheart, are you okay? Did you have fun with auntie Lucy?"
Milly stands there for a moment, blinking slowly and Rose knows that she's processing everything.
Then she takes a tentative step forward and points at the I.V. in his arm, her expression changing from scared to inquisitive.
"Does it hurt papa? Did the doctor put that there to make you better?"
Henry's smile turns into a genuine one and he nods slowly, "it hurt at first but it doesn't anymore, and yes kind of, the doctor put it there to give me medicine to help me get better. I missed you sweetheart."
Milly grins, "I missed you more papa."
Then she turns to Rose, eyes wide and bright, "can I give papa a cuddle? To make him feel better? Please mommy, papa's hugs always make me feel better."
Rose looks at Emma who's looking right at her with such a gentle expression.
"We don't want to accidentally hurt papa, he's still healing baby and–"
But before she can continue Henry interrupts her.
"It's okay, one hug won't hurt Rosie, especially not a magic hug from my favourite girl."
There's no use in arguing Rose knows that, so she carefully puts the bed rail down and helps Milly up onto the bed. It's instant, the way she curls against him. Fitting so perfectly as if she was always meant to belong there.
Rose could never deny her uncle a hug from Milly, in the same way she could never deny her daughter the safety of her uncles embrace; the very same sanctuary she knew as a child. A hug filled with nothing but happiness and unconditional love.
"I'll walk Lucy out and go and get Peter. I won't be long, I love you all."
Henry waves at Emma and watches fondly as Milly blows her a kiss before gently burying her head back into his shoulder.
"See you Lucy, thanks for coming. I'll call you later," she smiles softly at Lucy and then shifts her attention to her aunt just before she leaves, "and I love you too Em."
When the door closes she sits back and closes her eyes, wondering about the stranger who's about to invade their lives and change everything.
For better or worse she doesn't know yet, the jury's still out on that one.
The soft conversation between Milly and Henry is enough to almost send her to sleep, but just as she can feel herself drifting the sound of the door opening jolts her awake.
Emma is standing there, and then she moves further into the room to let Peter in.
Rose sits up straighter and surveys him. Eyes moving from the floor upwards.
Polished shoes, well dressed, conventionally attractive…
He's wearing a suit that fits him a little too perfectly (she wonders if he'll wear one all the time), and his stance is rigid. Not in an uncomfortable way, but more of a convenience kind of way. His hands are clasped together in front of him and he's already sweeping his gaze across the room, jaw clenched and mouth fixed in a tight lipped neutral smile. She tries not to notice the way his suit jacket fans out by his right hip, imagining a loaded gun holstered and ready to use at a moments notice.
It doesn't make her feel safe, it makes her fear for her safety.
For Milly's too.
"Do you have to carry that around with you? Like is it mandatory," she nods curtly at the hidden holstered gun.
But then Emma gives her a stern look and even she's a little annoyed at herself for not managing a simple 'hello' first.
He turns to face her properly then, and she tries not to focus on the way the sun chooses that exact moment to spill into the room a cast it's glow on his face, highlighting his freckles and how remarkably clean shaven he is, his eyes are almost honey like, a brown hue she's never seen before, but then he starts speaking and she regains her composure.
Peter lifts up the bottom of his jacket and reveals an empty holster, "it's empty ma'am, while I'm licensed to carry a firearm I only tend to use it when I feel it's necessary. I did bring it with me today but considering there's a child present I didn't feel like it would have been appropriate. But don't worry I'm trained in hand-to-hand combat and several types of martial arts so you're safe ma'am, gun or not."
He smiles properly for the first time, but Rose doesn't return the gesture.
"Is ma'am another thing you're licensed to use?"
Peter hums softly, trying to find any reason to dislike the young woman who’s sitting across the room, but he can't, even if she is insistent on openly sharing her own disdain at his presence, "no, if you'd prefer Miss Larkin I can use that."
Rose raises her eyebrow and has to stop herself from smiling too widely at his witty remark, "Rose will do just fine, Mr Sutherland."
"It's nice to meet you then Rose, I'm Peter, but you can call me whatever you're comfortable with, Mr Sutherland, Agent Sutherland, or just Peter's fine."
Emma clears her throat and Rose feels her cheeks flush, having momentarily forgotten that they weren't alone in the room.
"Peter this is my husband Henry, and this is our granddaughter Emilia, Rose's daughter."
Peter walks over to the bed and shakes Henry's hand, "it's nice to meet you sir, I'm sorry about the circumstances though."
"Not at all, I'm glad that you'll be here to protect my family, and please call me Henry."
Rose expects him to move back, but then he also extends his hand out to Emilia and Rose stiffens, expecting Milly to shy away from him, until she lifts her head up and surveys him for a moment before shaking his hand.
"Nice to meet you Peter, I'm Emilia but everyone calls me Milly really. And this is Mr Grumpy, do you want to shake his hand too?"
Emilia produces her blue care bear and wiggles his little hand, and Rose watches in awe as Peter shakes the bears hand too.
"Of course how could I forget someone so important? It's nice to meet you Mr Grumpy, I hope we can be friends."
Milly beams at him, and Rose finds her resolve softening.
Maybe this arrangement won't be so bad.
"Why are you here Mr Peter?"
The questions begin and Rose takes the opportunity to coax Milly off the bed and onto her lap.
"I'm here to make sure you, and your family are safe. Is that okay? If I stick around to do that?"
Milly shifts and looks up at her, confusion knitting her eyebrows together, so Rose gently rubs her back.
"Keep us safe from what? Monsters?"
Rose chuckles softly, "no baby, from the bad people who might want to hurt us," she tries to think of the best way to frame her answer so that it's easy for her seven year old to digest, "it's a little bit like how uncle Tim catches bad guys. Peter deals with even tougher bad guys than uncle Tim, and that's why he's here, to keep us safe."
"Ohhh, okay! Is he just here for today?"
The innocence in her tone breaks her heart a little because Rose wishes she could always protect her from all the bad parts of the world.
"I'll be here for a while actually. Just to be extra sure that the bad guys stay away."
Milly nods as if she understands exactly why Peters here, and then she jumps in with another question.
"Do you like chocolate chip cookies Peter?"
Emma and Henry can't help but laugh and Milly looks confused for a second but then returns her expectant gaze to Peter.
Rose is about to redirect her daughters attention so she doesn't annoy Peter with her childlike inquisitions but he's already answering her.
"I do, but I much prefer cupcakes. Especially chocolate ones, do you like cupcakes?"
Milly nods enthusiastically, "yeah! With chocolate icing and sprinkles too!"
"Well, next time I get some chocolate cupcakes I'll bring you one too, with chocolate icing and extra sprinkles," Peter glances over at Rose and watches as Rose's smile mirrors Milly's.
"Thanks Peter!"
"You're very welcome Miss Milly.'' Her gap tooth grin and the way her eyes light up makes a warmth spread through his chest, the fact that she seems so comfortable around him already lessens his anxiety surrounding his ability to protect her, he's never been tasked with protecting a family before and he knew from the get go it would be very different job to any he's done before.
Peter moves his gaze over to Emma and clears his throat, "we have a few more things to discuss contractually, but they can be spoken about later, if you're happy to accept my services?"
There's a sudden tenseness that fills the room and Peter adjusts the stiffness of his collar, regretting the choice to wear a new shirt today. He glances between Emma and Rose, sensing the apprehension, noticing the tremor in Rose's hand. Wondering if it's a result of the home invasion or if it was there before.
He can tell that Rose is going to be the hardest to read and understand, to gain her trust and keep it.
"Rose? It's your call honey, you have to be comfortable with this arrangement."
Rose seriously contemplates saying no, trying to battle with her thoughts of last night and the physical reaction her body is having the horrible memories. Her heart is racing and there's a hollowness in her stomach that makes her feel sick, but she doesn't want Milly to see her break down so she tries to push it all back inside.
"If it means you two and Milly are safe then yes, we're happy to accept your services Peter."
Milly curls up against her chest and Rose presses her lips to her daughters forehead.
"My job includes protecting you too Rose, just so you know," he offers up a gentle smile and relaxes when Rose returns the gesture.
"Mommy, when can we go home?"
The question pulls on her heartstrings and she isn't sure how to answer, not when all she wants is to go home too.
"We can't go home right now sweetheart, but we'll be able to soon. How about we go and see if the gift shop downstairs has a colouring book or something to do," Emma steps forward to take control, knowing that Rose is running on minimal sleep and from the tremor in her right hand as her finger drums against her thigh erratically, she's close to checking out completely.
Milly lifts her head up and turns to face her.
"Can I go with Mimi please mommy?"
Rose takes a deep breath and tries to shake off the overwhelming feeling of anxiety that's settled in her chest.
"Yes, but please be a good girl for Mimi."
Emma holds out her hand and Rose helps Milly get off of her lap, her arm protesting when she leans forward to give Milly her care bear, "don't forget Mr Grumpy sweet girl."
To her surprise Milly shakes her head, "he can stay with papa, to make him feel better."
And then her heart almost bursts at the kindness of her little girl.
"Thank you sweetheart, I'll make sure to take good care of him."
Rose pushes herself up and leans over to tuck the care bear next to her uncles arm.
When Emma and Milly have disappeared Rose curls up on the chair and stifles a yawn.
"If you're sure you want me to stick around," Peter directs a knowing smile towards Rose, "then I'll go and make some calls. I won't be long."
Henry nods and watches the soft interaction between his niece and Peter, glad that Rose seems to be warming up to him. He knows firsthand how hard it is for her to trust people. How much Emilia's father changed her.
When the room holds just the two of them Rose pulls the chair closer to the bed and resumes the position from before, her head tucked against her uncles shoulder, draping her arm carefully across his chest so she can feel the steady rise and fall of it beneath her hand with every breath he takes.
"That Peter doesn't seem like a bad kid does he Rosie?"
Henry waits for an answer or at least a mumble of acknowledgement but he's met with silence.
He gives it another minute or so, and then he turns his head slightly to try and catch a glimpse of Rose's face. Barely managing to do so before the pain gets too unbearable and he has to rest his head back against the pillows, trying his best to cover her with part of his blanket without disturbing her.
It's been a long, long time since she's fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder and he doesn't plan on taking this moment for granted. Not after last night...so he moves his hand to rest on top of hers and closes his eyes too, "sweet dreams Rosie."
By the time Peter has finalised everything with Jamie the hospital is slightly busier, the hallways are more crowded than before with people as opposed to nurses and he figures that visiting hours must have begun.
He stays on alert, his fingers jerking towards his empty holster before he remembers. So he walks the rest of the way back to Henry Campbell's hospital room with both hands purposefully out of his pockets just in case.
He makes it back to Henry's room without any unprecedented incidents, but just before he invites himself back inside Peter peers through the glass and takes a step back. The sight of Rose asleep with her head on Henry's chest, one hand splayed above his heart tells him that she cares about him a lot, like he can see that she cares about Emma just the same.
How much she cares about her daughter though, Peter couldn't possibly fathom, not even for a second.
He can only draw on what it felt like to be loved unconditionally by his mother, even though it's been too long now for him to remember her touch or her voice, but if he closes his eyes and thinks hard enough he can still hear her laugh.
Rose could have lost that.
Her daughter could have lost that.
So, as he positions himself beside the door, standing tall and ready for anything that might pose a threat, Peter makes a silent promise to himself to do everything possible to protect them because yes, that's his job now, but he also understands what it's like to lose everything.
And if he can play a part in stopping that from happening, then he's going to do his utmost best to make sure he succeeds.