A/N: For the record, LSM, this is all your fault. But that's not a bad thing. See, if you hadn't prompted me to do a scene like this between Munch and Abby, I'd have never answered the 'fear' prompt. So this one is for you.
And H:LOTS isn't mine.
I waited until I heard one of the doors upstairs slamming. And then I went outside. It was cold enough for me to need a jacket, but I hadn't brought one with me, and I didn't feel like going back inside to get one, so I stayed. Leaning against the rails, I watched the traffic passing by, not at all interested in it, but having no desire to be near anyone. That was why when the door opened about twenty minutes later, I scowled.
"Leave me alone, Abby," I said. "I don't want to hear it tonight, all right?" She ignored me, just as I'd expected. Instead of going back inside, she sat on the porch swing and stared at me.
"You really think I'm going to leave you alone after that?" she asked. "For that matter, what was that, anyway?"
"That was me and my daughter having an argument," I told her dryly. "What did you think it was?"
Abby shrugged. "Well, if you didn't scare her, you scared me," she replied. "I didn't know you could yell that loud."
"Is that why you came out here?" I asked, giving her an annoyed look. "I already said I don't want to hear it, so if all you're going to do is make sarcastic comments, go away."
"If anyone should be going someplace, it's you," Abby retorted, "I live here. And I'll have you know that that's not why I came out here."
"Then what did you come out here for?" I said, turning back to face the road in front of the house. Abby sighed.
"Because Rose is already talking to Kai and I figured I might as well come find you." she replied. "I'm starting to think that wasn't such a good idea."
"You're right," I told her, "It wasn't. I don't feel like talking to you right now…I don't feel like talking to anyone right now."
"There's a first," said Abby, deciding to ignore me again. "Might I ask why you don't want to talk to anyone?"
I motioned towards the front door. "That's why," I said. "You saw what happened in there; you really think I'm going to want to put up with anyone after that?"
"You're the one that has to take her home, not me," said Abby. "You don't really have a choice on whether or not you want to put up with anyone, especially not if you're here."
"Then maybe I'll just go back to the squad room," he said. "Only people I have to put up with around there are dead."
"That's great, John," Abby muttered sarcastically. "You're just going to run away from this, is that it?"
"If I was going to run away from this, I wouldn't be here talking to you," I said, moving to sit beside her. "When did things get so damn complicated?"
"What's complicated?" Abby asked. "She wanted to go someplace, you told her no. It's as simple as that. She wants to throw a fit over it, let her."
"That's not what I meant," I replied. "I could care less about that. She can throw whatever fit she wants to, it's not going to change my mind."
"Then what is it?" Abby asked. "What could she possibly do that would make you go off like that?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "It's just…I don't get it, Abby. One day we get along perfectly, and the next day, she's claiming I'm an idiot and that she hates me."
"She's eleven," said Abby. "That's probably why. Girls her age tend to hate their parents."
"How do you know?" I asked. "You don't even have kids."
"I have two nieces and two nephews, and I live with them," she replied. "I think I'd know how this sort of thing works."
"Well, then, do you mind telling me before I have to do that again?" I asked. "I'd like to know that I don't have to go through the rest of my life with a kid that hates me."
"She doesn't hate you," said Abby, rolling her eyes in my direction. "It's just a phase."
"A phase?" I repeated, casting an incredulous look at her. "You think this is just a phase? It's been going on for the past three months!"
"Well, I haven't heard anything before now, and even then, you're the only one I heard. I'm surprised none of the neighbors called."
"You're not helping, Abby. If this is just a phase, then why the hell hasn't it gone away yet?"
"Because it's only just starting. She's probably going to 'hate' you until she's about sixteen, and then she's going to start asking for the keys."
"Great. So my kid's going to hate me for another five years and when she finally decides she's changed her mind, it's only going to be because she wants to drive."
"Have you learned nothing from watching the other four? They get over it. Sooner or later, they all get over it."
"Well, excuse me for not being around often enough to learn anything. Some of us actually have jobs."
"That point is moot, John. You and I both have jobs and I'm still around to learn something."
"Yeah, well, you and Rose have also been through this four times. You know how to deal with it. I don't."
"Well, I can tell you that yelling isn't the way to go. It's only going to annoy her more."
"I noticed."
"That's not even what's really bothering you, is it?" Startled by the question, I looked at her for a long moment and sighed.
"No," I admitted, "It's not." Abby shook her head and pushed off so that the swing started moving back and forth.
"Thought so." she said. "You wanna tell me what it really is, or do I have to beat it out of you?"
"She's growing up too fast," I said. "It's like I turned away for a few seconds and the next thing I know, she's wearing makeup and those stupid miniskirts, and…" I trailed off then, but Abby said nothing.
"What?" I asked. "What did I do this time?"
"Nothing," she replied finally ."You didn't do anything. But I gotta tell you, that feeling's only gonna get worse as she gets older."
"Great," I muttered sarcastically, "That's exactly what I needed to hear. I'm hardly ever around as it is, and every time I am, something's changed. I don't even know her anymore!"
"It'd help if you talked," Abby said dryly. "And if you were around more often when she was awake." I gave her a look.
"You know I would be if it were at all possible," I said. "You think I like only seeing her when she's asleep?"
"I didn't say that," Abby replied. "I know you don't. But if you're so afraid of not knowing her, then why don't you do something about it?"
"What is there to do? I can't transfer to the other shift, and I can't quit my job or we're both screwed."
"No one said anything about quitting. But sitting around here isn't going to do you any good if you want to fix things."
"And what if I don't want to fix things? What if I just want them to go back to the way they were?"
"Then you're going to be sitting out here for a while. The only way they're going to go back is if you can go back in time, which you can't, so you might as well stop hoping for it."
"I know I can't go back in time, Abby, but I…I don't want to feel like I've had nothing to do with raising her."
"You're her father. You can't help but have something to do with raising her, whether she likes it or not."
"And she doesn't. She as good as told me in there that she'd rather be someone else's kid."
"Every kid's going to say that at one point or another. I did, Rose did, you probably did…"
"And yet I never really understood how much it hurts to hear that until ten minutes ago."
"Yeah, well, you were bound to figure it out sooner or later. That's one of the reasons parents are always telling their kids that they hope whatever kids they have are exactly like they were."
"Wait a minute…that actually made sense. Have you been drinking?"
"No, I haven't been drinking, and I'll have you know that my mother used to tell me that every other day while we were growing up."
"I know. I was around to hear it more often than not. And it's a good thing you never had kids."
"Why?"
"Because it would only mean that many more murders a year."
"I think every parent feels like throttling their children at one point or another, but they certainly never go through with it."
"You live in a sheltered world, Abby." I pushed off again and the swing started moving. "You'd be surprised how many parents actually do."
"I don't want to hear it, all right?" she replied. "All I need to know is that I've never done it, you've never done it, and neither of us ever will."
"That still doesn't change the fact that I have a kid who hates me." I glanced into the house through the dining room window beside us and shook my head. "Look at that. How the hell does she manage to get over it so quickly?"
"How do any of them?" Abby asked. "It's different. You're afraid that she's growing up too fast, that she's slipping away and that you're losing her, and she's not."
"I don't think any kid is afraid of growing up," I said dryly. "They can't wait until they're old enough to move out, and then the minute they do…"
"They want to come home again," said Abby, finishing my sentence. "That's one of the reasons they're not afraid. They know you'll always be there if you need them."
"But you still feel like you're losing them." I leaned back and closed my eyes as Abby sent us swinging for a third time. "She's all I have. What am I going to do when she gets old enough to leave and decides she wants nothing to do with me?"
"You really are afraid of watching her grow up, aren't you?" Abby asked in reply, and when I didn't answer, she sighed.
"There's nothing you can do to stop it," she said. "Kai's going to grow up whether you like it or not."
"I figured that one out a while ago. And yeah, I am afraid of watching her grow up, because sooner or later, I'm not going to be able to shield her from the side of the city that I see every day, and then what?"
"Then you answer her questions when she asks them, and you don't sugarcoat anything. She wants to know, she'll find a way to find out about it."
"That's what I'm afraid of. I don't want her to know about all of this. I don't want her to know about how many murders occur in this Godforsaken city ever year. I don't want her to grow up being afraid of everything and everyone."
"Everyone's afraid of something at one point or another. You can't protect her forever."
"Yeah, I know. And it bothers the hell out of me, because I want to, but I'm hardly ever around to do that. It's always been you and Rose. I'm surprised she even recognizes me when I walk in the door."
"She'd be hard pressed not to recognize someone like you," Abby quipped, laughing. "She's a good kid, John. You have nothing to worry about."
"Until she starts driving." I glanced at my watch and shook my head. "We've been out here for almost two hours."
"Yeah, and it's getting cold." Abby stuck her feet out and stopped the swing before getting up. "You coming?"
"Yeah," I said, rising to my feet, "I'm coming." She pushed the door open and both of us stepped inside, almost immediately greeted by whatever chaos had started while we were outside. Abby cast a pointed look in my direction before walking up the stairs; I watched until she disappeared before turning to head in the direction of the dining room.
She'd been right, and I knew it. There wasn't anything I could do about Kai growing up, even if I didn't like it. And as I stepped into the dining room, I realized something else. Over the years since I'd gotten her, there had been many things that I'd been afraid of, but one thing was always constant.
No matter what I did, I was always going to be afraid of losing my little girl.