„Like Mother, Like Daughter"
Disclaimer: Everything I own about this 2002 movie based fanfic is the very idea for it – and the name for Joe Darrow's little daughter who in the movie remains unnamed. The beta is Sosaveme.
Doctor Joe Darrow observes his daughter as she is playing innocently like any other child, running as fast as only her little legs will allow her in the shower of autumn leaves she stirs up with her every movement; gusts of the cold wind pierce her little body. A cheerful, childish laughter resounds in the clear October air as the dried up leaves excreting this barely traceable but characteristic apple and cinnamon smell get tangled in golden ringlets of Charlotte's long hair that the wind blows away.
„She is so much like her mother, Joe thinks and clenches his fists causing the nails to leave painful marks inside of his hands to prevent in this way unwanted tears from showing up in his eyes. Even after all this time that has passed since Emily died in that accident, he still can't reconcile with her death. Even if Joe Darrow still has her little copy on his side, now looking innocently at him and smiling, showing her father a still complete set of beautiful white teeth like little pearls; one that has inherited Emily's wavy golden hair and carefree laughter. He has to remind himself not to reach his hand to tenderly stroke her hair in an affectionate gesture as he often did to his beloved Emily. This time Mr. Darrow's touch would be innocent and fatherly... even if sometimes his thoughts of his little Charlotte, thoughts of a man who hasn't been with any other woman since Emily passed away are... a bit less innocent. Especially when he lies awoken in his cold lone bedroom thinking about what a beautiful girl and how resembling her mother his daughter is going to grow up to.
Joe, absorbed in those semi-lustful thoughts often has to remind himself it's not Emily, but Charlotte - just Charlotte, his own daughter, his own flesh and blood, even if it's her mother's soul that is trapped within her lithe little body by the Indian magic. Sometimes he has to remind himself this because he calls her the name of her mother and the child looks then at him surprised, not guessing what her beloved Daddy is thinking about. Maybe one day Charlotte will indeed look like Emily. When she grows up. Mr. Darrow's daughter already resembles his dead wife and will be even more so when the child grows up. He can't help it but, not even fully realizing the inappropriateness of this sort of fantasies, thinks about Charlotte's body so warm and pink under the thick layer of clothes and what it would be like to touch it like he did to his wife, poor dead Emily.
„It's not a child – not only a child. She has her soul within, after all," the doctor thinks, repeating those words like a mantra; „They couldn't save her body, but they did save her soul." Joe tells himself. „It's Emily, my Emily and no one else" - this thought reverberates in his mind when he lies fully awoken in his lonely bed, staring at the darkness surrounding him, swallowing him like a monster.
And then the man stands up and breathing heavily goes to Charlotte's bedroom to look at her, asleep. Just look, nothing more, he repeats himself. She's so innocent. So young and pure. So not realizing what her father has on his mind.
„I only need to wait." Joe thinks. „Just like fifteen years; not more. The age of consent. She will be old enough then. My Emily. She will be mine again," he consoles himself. „She has her soul within, after all" he repeats as he clenches his fists and listens to the sounds of Charlotte's heartbeat.
„She's her."