TITLE: So throw me a rope to hold me in place
GENRE: Drama/humor
CHARACTERS: Cal, Emily, Gillian
PAIRING: Cal & Emily with a hint of Cal/Gillian
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: None
WORDS: 1,800
SUMMARY: His daughter is leaving and Cal is devastated. But Emily has taken care of everything and he only finds out bit by bit.
A/N: Written for McBreezy's LTM Fic Challenge. Prompt: Cal/Emily – Envelope. Thank you so much for organizing this challenge! I love seeing the fandom alive so much. I hope somebody might enjoy this little story and please excuse any mistakes as English is not my first language.

{ No. 1 }

He sat alone in his car after he had sent her off. Away. Far, far away. To somewhere at the other end of the world. Practically another planet.

He thought about the distance; the miles and miles that would separate them and make them lead lives of their own now. He couldn't quite picture it yet. The evenings spent alone on the couch in front of the TV. The phone calls in which he would have to try really hard, so his voice would not betray him. All the things they loved doing together. All the things that ever were.

It was a lone tear that ran down his cheek and got caught in the corner of his mouth. He didn't bother wiping it away.

She'd be happy in her new life, her new chapter of being a grown-up. He knew all that. But he, on the other hand, was almost sure to not be as okay as he had just promised.

He would visit and she would visit, and they would talk and laugh, and anyway she hadn't even lived with him half of the time those last few years. But somehow this was different.

He looked in the distance (just an ugly airport parking lot really) and remembered holding her close. Smelling her sweet scent and behind closed eyes seeing the little baby he once held so proudly. He looked to his right and remembered her sitting there just an hour ago, smiling and telling him about all the plans she had. All those plans he wasn't a part of anymore.

And that's when he saw the envelope on the seat and felt some irrational fear that she had forgotten something important. Maybe he would need to fly after her. Maybe it contained all the documents she needed for enrolling at university. Maybe she couldn't go on without it (—or him).

It's when he saw Dad written on it, that his heart sank a little, because there was no chance of getting on the next plane now without looking like a complete lunatic. But it was just a fleeting moment and he picked up the envelope curiously a few seconds later, letting his fingers run over the smooth cream-colored paper surface.

He opened it, not quite knowing what to expect.

—Hey Dad,

please don't be sad.

I left a little something to make you happy in the fridge at home.

Love you very much (and will not forget you, even though I'm pretty sure that's what you're thinking right now),

Em—

There was a second tear, no denying. His girl.

{ No. 2 }

Getting home was tough. He looked at all the familiar things in the house, yet everything felt different. Like somebody had rearranged everything while he was gone and he couldn't even see it. There was an unsettling silence about the house and it was only just the beginning.

Her scent still lingered in the air, but it would be gone at some point. Soon, probably.

He went to the kitchen and poured himself a much too big glass of scotch and sipped at it. The burn in his throat felt good and somehow comforting, but it brought back the moments in which he stood at the security check, trying really, really hard to not cry in front of her. Or even look sad and like his world was crumbling down. (Which it was, but she didn't need to know that.)

Only after a while he remembered the envelope, still tucked away safely in the pocket of his jacket. He took it out and put it on the table, smoothing out some crinkles in the same movement. The fridge. Of course, the fridge.

He went over and looked inside of it, almost expecting to see a cake there or something else sweet and handcrafted to help him getting over the devastating feeling of loss.

But no. It was an array of cans instead, all containing his most beloved kind of beans, ready to go on toast and have everybody roll their eyes at him. He was smiling and almost as happy as Emily had promised in her note. Not because of the beans itself, but because she knew him so well.

There was another envelope waiting for him between two of the cans.

—Hi Dad,

I sincerely hope you still cook. You know you cannot live off beans on toast alone. As much as you might want to.

If not for me, you could cook for somebody else, you know. Just saying.

Might have left another letter in my room, so you don't avoid it for the next ten years.

Love,

Em—

He smiled and felt the overwhelming urge to call her and hear her voice. But she was somewhere up in the air, right in the middle between him and her new life.

He would have to hold out a little longer.

{ No. 3 }

The envelope sat on top of her pillow indeed. He wondered if he had to change the sheets at some point, but it felt wrong. He wondered about a lot of things while sitting on her bed and taking a look around the room. It was a little more empty than usual, but she left enough things so it still felt like her home.

Could have been mere minutes or even hours he sat there. He couldn't tell and it probably didn't matter. There was nowhere to be, nothing to do. It was just him and his thoughts today before life had to go on tomorrow.

When he finally took the envelope and opened it, he was already hoping for it to stop hurting.

—Dear Dad,

I'm gone now and I'm sure that's not so easy for you. Please know that it's not easy for me either. I will miss you a lot and everything will be new and different. Nobody can say what's going to happen and the thought scares me a little, too.

You know, I sometimes hated you being so overly protective. I wondered why I couldn't just have a normal dad that would not overanalyze everything and expect the worse in everything ever happening. But then I always realized that you did all this, because you love me and want me to be happy and safe.

And I love you for loving me so much.

(Hope I finally made you cry by now, but admit it: You already shed some tears in the car, didn't you?)

Hopefully you won't turn my room into some kind of shrine now, but just in case you wanted to remember the good old times somewhere, have a look at the mantelpiece.

Your Emily—

And the tears were streaming down his face. Not just an isolated phenomenon like in the car earlier. He couldn't even remember when he had cried for the last time.

{ No. 4 }

By now he was a little afraid of what might come and his feelings taking over completely. He wasn't sure he could handle more of her sweet reminders and at the same time knowing that a part of their life together has ended. He was so thankful that she was this amazing person she was, but it all felt exhausting at the moment. A headache was forming behind his eyes.

Coming down the stairs he already saw the new arrangement of picture frames on the mantelpiece. There were some pictures of the two (or three) of them together before of course, but he noticed that he she had put up some new ones from trips and celebrations, the most recent one just a few weeks old.

He had taken her to New York for a weekend, just father and daughter. She had been joking about making him pay for all the shopping she would do, but in fact they both just enjoyed their time together, enjoyed being tourists and taking silly pictures. One of those was now reminding him of all that.

A little more to the right yet another envelope was leaning against a very familiar picture of Gillian and him. It had been there for a long time. He marveled at it for a moment before opening the letter.

—Dad, you gotta tell her. Please promise me you're going to tell her.

(P.S. I left another envelope, but you don't need to look for it. It will find you.)—

If only it all were so easy, he thought and kept looking at the picture that had them look like the perfect couple despite all the difficulties already.

{ No. 5 }

There was no hiding in front of Foster. The moment he entered the office she looked concerned and made sure that nobody was crossing his path today. She saw the pain he was in, even though his usual façade was up.

By lunchtime she was testing the waters and asked him if he was okay, even though she wrapped the question elegantly in another sentence entirely. It was followed by a soothing touch on his arm that was probably supposed to be very subtle, but he couldn't help noticing.

When evening came, she looked worried for his life.

"Anything up?" he asked when she entered his office, tensely kneading her fingers.

"I don't know. You tell me." She came closer, but he noticed that she deliberately left enough distance, so she could brace herself for whatever might come.

"What are you talking about?" He was confused. She knew exactly what was up and until now she was smart enough to not make him talk about it.

Her stare was intense. "Emily left me an envelope. I only just saw it." She took a folded piece of paper from her blazer pocket.

He wondered. Was this the envelope that was supposed to find him? He got up from his chair and closed the distance between them. A little nervous he put his hands in his jeans pockets. "Well, what does it say?"

She unfolded the paper (cream-colored as well) and read the note out loud:

—Hey Gillian, my dad's gotta tell you something important. Please make sure to ask him about it. Sometimes he needs a gentle push.

Much love,

Emily—

She looked at him with overly concerned eyes. "What's going on, Cal?"

He didn't know what to say and how to answer this question. It only made her more confused when he started to grin and shake his head. "This cheeky little brat."

THE END