This is a dark story with icky themes. Written because the writes always droped creepy hints of of this with Den as fas as I'm concerned. The Watts are a complex family to write about.
Descent
Sharon randomly threw a pile of clothes into her open suitcase when she had only unpacked it when she moved into the Vic a day before.
Knowing she was probably packing the wrong things and that they would only get screwed up anyway was a conscious act of rebellion, an outlet for her anger. She was doing the right thing going away so Dennis could forget about her and be there for his child. She was always doing the right thing by other people and it was breaking her inside. But she had to do it. She had to be the adult and make the hard decision Dennis couldn't.
Tears glistened in her eyes but she pushed them away quickly with the back of her hand. If she started crying now she wasn't sure if she could go through with it.
A sound at the door behind her made her turn. She was faced by the tall figure of her father standing still and silent. It crossed her mind briefly that she didn't know how long he had been standing there.
"Dad?" She questioned, surprised by how weak her voice sounded due to grief and nervousness.
Den stood unmoving for a long time. How her father could express so much power just through stillness had always fascinated Sharon. Finally shifting his weight to his other foot Den opened his mouth to speak.
"You don't have to leave, princess. Just stay with me and I'll protect you." Some might say that Den had a blank face, strong and weathered. Sharon saw different her father had deep and expressive brown eyes that used to smile at her as a child. She could see pain and regret in those eyes now.
"I can't I have to leave. I can't stay to watch Dennis bring a child up knowing I could never give him one." Sharon shook her head as she spoke. Hoping that Den wouldn't push her to stay, as her resolve would most likely crumble.
Den looked to the ceiling momentarily as if he was processing and accepting her statement.
Sharon waited for some kind of response but finding none she tried talking again.
"Dad?"
It was almost as if her father was visibly changing in front of her eyes. His posture was a little straighter; his jaw clenched a little tighter almost as if he was giving up. Like an animal cornered, desperate and ready to strike. It put Sharon on edge, he had always been the person who looked after her and made her feel safe she wasn't use to this.
He was different. Even though he wore the same faded pink shirt, the same suede jacket but he seemed taller, darker. The same grim expression on his face yet his eyes darkened to black with a deeper purpose.
"Dad?" She tried again stronger shifting uncomfortably as his unreadable eyes stared into her own. Den still hadn't moved a muscle.
Then his eyes moved at the sound of her voice. It was almost as if they were a not part of blood, flesh and bones that made up the man she trusted the most. She felt sick as she realised he was dragging his sinister eyes over her body. Unconsciously Sharon hugged her arms around her chest in an attempt to shield herself. Even with her eyes squeezed tightly shut she could feel his gaze on every curve of her body.
She had to make this stop. It wasn't the way her father was meant to behave.
"I'm not your father." Den's tone had always been thick and low at but he had spoken so quietly she hadn't heard his words.
"Wh…what?" Sharon stumbled stupidly over the word.
"I'm not your father." He repeated voice filled with some kind of anger that she didn't understand. Still she had to strain her ears to hear him.
"That's not true," Sharon whispered. Her eyes filling with tears as she remembered all the times Den looked after her while Angie was passed out drunk. "Of course you're my father…" She tried to bring Den to his senses assuming he was having some kind of identity crisis.
"I'm not your father!" Den shouted in a dangerous tone she had heard him uses a hundred times before, just never directed at her.
She physically jumped backwards feeling threatened and confused. Den watched her reaction closely letting out a slow, sad laugh as she jumped.
"There's no blood line between us, so no, not your father."
Sharon didn't understand she wasn't sure if she wanted to. Her eyes were drawn to the door over her fathers shoulder. She wanted to run.
"Stop it!" She suddenly shouted through the fog of confusion. Desperately trying to talk some sense to him. "Blood makes no difference, you're still my father."
"That's never stopped you before has it? No blood between you and Dennis yet he isn't your brother." Den hissed at her with a serious frown forming on his face. There was some childish resentment in her father's face that she had never seen before.
He started to walk towards her. Sharon felt her throat tighten as she started to sob. She couldn't speak; she couldn't find the right words. She wasn't even sure if there were any.
She froze completely as he towered over her. Gently he caressed her cheek. And at the burning sensation she finally realised what he was doing. She wished she could forget.
His large hands crossing the boundary of a parent, Den eagerly traced her collarbone and the shape of her body down until he reached her waist.
"You can't do this." Sharon whispered suddenly wanting nothing more than to pull away yet her feet wouldn't move.
"Is that what you told Dennis." He mocked distractedly as he touched her.
"Stop dad!" Sharon panicked able to fight for the first time.
She was silenced with a blow to the face she never saw coming until she felt a pain that made her ears ring.
"I'm sorry," Den muttered apologetic and shocked at striking her. "Let me make you feel like a real princess." He touched her sore cheek carefully not noticing how Sharon shook under his touch.
Through streaming eyes she saw Den lower his face to hers till she felt his hot breath on her face, lips inches from her own fuller lips. He stayed there for a second as if savouring the moment before allowing his lips to touch hers in a frantic kiss.
Inside Sharon screamed.