Disclaimer: I don't own most of these characters. Ivy is mine… but that's because there was a logical gap in the Tucker lineage.
A/N: While this isn't slash fiction (I am not sick enough to write slash from the P.O.V. of an eight year old) what happens behind the scenes (and out of her sight and hearing) just might be. Please, please… read and review.
"I no longer wish to go to school." As usual, Mother and Lorien are too busy with their own conversation to hear me. Daddy does, however and his face twists in pain and shock. I suppose he feels that because I am only eight years old, that my decision is less than informed.
"Is something wrong, punkin?" He lays down his stylus and tells me how much he's worried. I know he would rather die than see me hurt, but it wouldn't change anything.
"Trip." Mother sees Daddy talking and breaks in. "Is there…"
"Ivy wants to quit school," he answers. Ivy, even though it's not my name. It's one of the few things that Daddy's overridden Mother on, and I love him for it. My real name is Charley – Charley Tucker IV to be precise, which is where Ivy comes in. I.V. if we're talking… but the sounds are the same.
"We have discussed this. You are to attend school." She begins a rational argument as to why school is important. I don't want logic, I want a big bad old fashioned blow-out with all the fucks, shits and damns included. Mother would be upset at my language, but that's life. Lorien smiles his little smile, the one that says he's so superior to me.
Daddy knows better though… knows it's not about school at all – or at least not the lessons. "Are you still having a hard time, punk?"
I want to tell him… but I can't. Daddy loves us… I don't want to hurt him by letting him know that the hardest time comes from my own brother.
Done with her lecture, Mother turns back to Lorien, and begins to help him with his homework. Daddy steals his opportunity to get serious.
"It's not just about school, is it punkin?" His fingers fly gracefully through the words, as we begin a truly private conversation. Neither Mother nor Lorien have taken the time to learn my language; neither one wishes to deal with the fact that I am different from them… that I cannot make sounds when I speak.
I shake my head, trying not to let tears come into my eyes. Lorien always teases me when I cry… he says it's unseemly in a Vulcan. But I'm not a Vulcan – I may look like Mother but I'm Daddy's girl to the core. Daddy is full of emotion and expression – he does not lock it away, but wears it proudly on the surface. And lately… he's been more worn out, more tired, and sadder than usual. There are times when he and Mother don't even speak… and many nights when they don't sleep in the same room.
"I'm worried about you, Daddy. You don't seem well." He hasn't been sleeping properly, his eyes have that bruised saggy look they get when he doesn't.
He smiles, but he can't convince me with it. "I'm fine, punk. Really, I am. Don't worry." He won't meet my eyes, though… he's lying to me.
"Daddy…"
He reaches over and grasps my hands in his. "We'll talk later, okay, punk?" He vocalises this, because his hands are too busy preventing me from saying anything. He lets my hands go and ruffles my hair. I smile because I can't help it… I'll always smile for my Daddy.
"That's my girl." His smile changes, becomes more genuine. He taps me on the end of my nose and winks.
I return to my homework, but I can't concentrate. Something big is going to happen, and I'm scared it won't be good.
…
"We have to face facts, T'Pol. It's not working… it probably never stood a chance of working in the first place." I listen to Daddy as he moves around their room; my ear is pressed to the floorboards.
"That is hardly my fault." Mother's voice is calm and cold, like it always is.
"I didn't say that it was. But don't worry, I'll be out of your hair soon enough." I hear the anger in Daddy's voice, underlaid by pain.
"And I suppose you would want to take…" Mother's voice is harder now.
"I know that's not possible." Daddy sounds like he wants to cry. "Don't even play that game with me."
"You are absolutely correct. By right of law…"
"Law? Law? Is that all it is to you? Jesus Christ, T'Pol these are our kids!"
"Pardon? Our children? I am the one who…"
"Fine. So I didn't carry them… I didn't give birth. But damnit, which one of us is the one who got up twenty times a night because one of them had colic, or needed changing? Which one of us sang them lullabies when they couldn't sleep? Which one of us paid close enough attention to notice that our daughter can't vocalise?" I hear something click, and the bed bouncing. "So don't tell me that they are somehow more your children than mine."
"You might have warned me that there were genetic flaws in your family."
"Excuse me?" Now Daddy's voice gets cold and dangerous. "Yes, there is mutism in the family… but I hardly see how that qualifies as genetic flaws."
"She cannot speak…" Mother has never understood… to her, logically I am somehow less than perfect, for I know she sees my inability to vocalise as a detriment to communication. But Daddy… I could be ugly, blind and with extra fingers and toes and he'd still love me.
"She speaks just fine, T'Pol. It's not our fault you're incapable of listening." He stomps out, and the door slams. I'm about to get up when Lorien lands on me and begins pulling at my hair. He knows I can't scream, which is why he does it.
I reach around with my hand, fingers seeking out his eyes. I've got stronger fingers than he does, mostly because I use them more. He howls in pain and lets me go. "I'll get you for that, Charley. I promise."
I tell him something even he can understand, extending the second finger of my right hand.
"Hey. Bed. And don't talk like that." Daddy scoops me up and carries me to my room. He tucks me in and gives me a goodnight kiss on the forehead. "Sleep tight, punkin."
"See you in the morning, Daddy?" It's our ritual question… but tonight I don't ask out of ritual.
He doesn't answer me, just smiles and kisses me again. "Night, night, punkin." He's trying to keep tears out of his eyes, but he's not doing too well.
I hear Mother across the hall, putting Lorien to bed. He's complaining about how Daddy always takes my side. I don't hear what she says to him… she knows I hear as well as they do, so she speaks very softly.
I wait, listening until all the noises in the house stop. I wait some more, counting off the minutes, then get up. I gather together some things and stuff them all into my school bag. Then I change out of my pyjamas and pick up my shoes and tiptoe down the stairs.
"Going somewhere, punk?" Daddy's voice comes out of the shadows, his lazy drawl almost exaggerated.
I turn to face him; he's sitting in his chair in the dark, watching me.
"I'm leaving. I don't want to be here anymore." I keep the words sharp and hard, so he won't try to stop me.
"Where are you going? How do you plan to get there? Where will you live?" His words are easy-going, but concerned. His fingers dance lightly through the air, pausing only to change sentences.
I have no answers for him.
"Didn't think this through too much, huh?" A sad smile graces his lips.
I can lie to Mother without a problem, but I've never been able to lie to him. He always knows, somehow, reading the nuances of my words and expression. I shake my head, staring at the floor.
He claps his hands together lightly to get my attention. "You don't need to go anywhere punkin."
"I have to, Daddy. If I wasn't here, then maybe you and Mother…" I come closer to him, needing to be there.
He reaches out and grasps my hands, silencing me. "It's not about you, punkin. Trust me on that. Your mother and I…" He sighs, as though it's too hard for him to admit. "Your mother and I were never a good fit from the start."
I can see the suitcase at his side now, and know why he wouldn't answer me earlier. "I want to go with you."
He shakes his head. "You can't, punkin. I… I don't even know where I'm going, yet. I… I don't know if…"
"Daddy, please. I can't stay here. No one here can talk with me, can have conversations."
"Sweetie, I know it will be hard…"
I play my ace in the hole – one of Daddy's favourite expressions. "I met Kol, today. The boy Mother says I'm supposed to marry? He informed me that I was fortunate his family was willing to take me on. I don't like him, Daddy… but Mother doesn't care. I told her… but she said that if there's one thing she's learned it's that choosing your own mate isn't a wise choice."
He shrugs, helplessly. "Punkin…"
"Please, Daddy. Mother won't say a thing… it's Lorien she's concerned about. It will probably be a relief to her if I'm gone… she won't have to worry about the genetic flaws being passed down the line."
"Ivy." Daddy becomes stern. "You are not…"
"Daddy, please…"
He sighs again. "It's not that simple, punkin. Daddy… there's someone else that Daddy loves. I just don't know…"
"Well, let's go there, then." It makes perfect sense.
"It's not that easy, punk. There's complications…" He's uncomfortable with something, but I'm not going to let him get away with it.
"It can't be that bad, Daddy. Unless you're worried that I'll be a problem." That has to be it… this other person probably isn't going to be happy to have a mutant kid show up. "You go, Daddy. You go and be happy… and I'll figure something out." I step away and pick up my bag again, but Daddy stops me.
"Punkin, please…"
I pull away. "I won't stay here without you, Daddy. I would much rather be dead."
"Don't say that." Daddy freezes, I can see the terror in every inch of his body. "Don't ever say that, punkin." He knows I'm serious… that I would rather be dead than living here without him. I can't survive if he's not here… Mother and Lorien will slowly try to twist and bend me into something I can't be. "Okay. We'll try it your way. I just hope…" He still can't say it – it's like he's afraid for me or ashamed of something.
"It can't be that bad, Daddy," I repeat. I pat his hand, reassuringly. After all, if this other person loves my Daddy too… then it ought to be okay.