Disclaimer and such: Not mine. Marginal spoilers for Regrets in season one, nothing really after that. Doesn't really fit within the show's timeline at all, unless you shove it in around 2.06 or so and go AU from there.
A/N: This was just a little stray chapter that I thought was going to fit into Weekly Tradition, but within about two seconds it had gone so far into another direction that, while I hoped I might be able to use it, I knew it wasn't ever going to fit in that world. It's also sappy and goofy and more than a little "out there" for Artie and Claudia's characterization. But it's based on events in my own life and I like it, and I try to keep my criteria for what I post limited to "Was it fun to write?" Special thanks to MagellinaFluffQueen (which I probably typo'ed) for the beta work, and for reminding me that here, of all places, isn't really the place to censor myself.
It was still dark outside when Artie jerked awake, feeling like he'd just gone to bed a moment before. He swatted at the alarm clock, frowning in confusion and frustration when he realized that the alarm wasn't going off. He peered at the clock, taking in the dimly glowing numbers: 2:37. Not time to get up yet, no fire alarm, no burglar smashing things... then what had woken him? He only wondered for a moment before the answer became all too clear.
"Daddy!" the terrified scream echoed in the air vent. It turned Artie's blood cold in a way that nothing else could. He was out of his bed and into her bedroom before he even realized what he was doing, standing warily at the foot of her bed. He'd gotten used to this thankfully infrequent routine. Her nightmares, which were violent enough to disgust even the most seasoned horror-flick watcher, also touched on her deepest fears and phobias, often leaving her trembling and too frightened to be approached. So he waited by the foot of the bed, laying a hand gently on Claudia's foot when he saw that recognition was slowly but surely replacing the blank look that had been on her face.
"Artie?" she said quietly, timidly. Artie took the unspoken invitation to sit next to her on the bed, not yet touching her. She'd let him know when she was ready for the arm around her shoulders; any sooner and all he'd get was a reflexive punch to the ribs. After a couple minutes, she leaned against him, and he slipped his arms around her loosely. "Sorry," Claudia muttered to the rest of her odd family, all of whom were still lurking in the doorway. After talking over one another, assuring her that nobody held her responsible for the disturbance, the trio fell quiet for a moment before Myka excused herself to head back to bed. For all her experience with her own nightmares, Myka had learned long ago that she wasn't good at dealing with others', at least not when she'd only gotten two or three hours' sleep. Claudia smiled softly and nodded. She understood that sometimes Myka's caring nature was best expressed by avoiding a situation she knew she couldn't handle. In the morning, they would talk, but not right now.
"I'll make cocoa," Leena offered.
"With fresh milk?" Artie asked, more a command than a question. There was little chance of getting Claudia back to sleep after a nightmare that provoked this kind of screaming, but without warm milk, that slim chance became no chance. Pete wordlessly sat down on the edge of the bed, pinning Claudia between himself and Artie, resting his hand on her shin, and the three sat quietly for several minutes before Leena returned with a mug of steaming cocoa. Artie took and held it for a moment before Claudia untangled her hands from the blanket and reached for the mug. The men watched her sip it delicately for a little while before Artie began to stand up, extending a hand to his young friend. Claudia accepted it, knowing what would come next.
The first time she'd had a nightmare this bad, Artie had sat with her for a few minutes, but then returned to his own bed, thinking all was well. Two screaming fits later, still well before sunrise, he'd thrown a pillow and blanket on the floor next to her bed and lay down there, her hand hanging over the side of the bed to clutch his fingers in a tight, terrified grip. When it happened again a couple weeks later, and he realized that this tended to be a regular event, he'd moved his antique reading chair out of his room and into the parlor, and replaced it with a big, overstuffed armchair that folded out into a Claudia-sized bed, for nights like this one. Sometimes Claudia sensed the bad nights coming, recognized her triggers, and came into his room as a pre-emptive strike. But more often, it caught her off-guard, like this night clearly had.
As Artie led Claudia to the next room, Pete grabbed her pillow and followed. He lurked in the doorway of their boss's bedroom, watching the pair climb up into the big bed and settle against the headboard. Claudia looked so small, so much younger than her nineteen years, when she was frightened, he observed. Pete, too, knew what would come next. He unfolded the armchair and smoothed out Claudia's purple sheets, preparing the space for her, whenever she was ready to use it.
"You want me to check all the doors and windows before I head back to bed?" Pete asked. Claudia smiled and nodded, both sheepish and thankful for the gesture. She knew her nightmares were more or less irrational, but Pete knew it made her feel safer, just the same. For all his childish antics, Pete also had a fiercely protective older-brother streak. Pete began by checking Artie's window locks, before he left the room to continue the familiar routine.
"Can you tell me about it?" Artie asked when the two were alone. Claudia shook her head once, paused, then nodded.
"MacPherson came... got into the warehouse somehow... and kidnapped me. And then... I called for you to save me, and you came, but he used... something... to paralyze you, and..." she trailed off as a shiver of fear hit so hard it shook not only her, but the entire bed. She drew a deep breath and continued. "And I was trying to figure out what he had that was doing that, but he just kept... kept hurting you... as he dragged me off and you couldn't... couldn't save me."
Artie blinked, several times. This was going to take some serious thought, he realized. She hadn't been screaming for him, of course... but, what if... Artie frowned as a certain conversation in the diner came to the surface of his thoughts. He gazed at his desk, suddenly finding it very fascinating as he pondered... just what had Claudia meant by that phrase, father figure, anyway? It had been very sweet and meaningful, but now he was left to wonder if there was more depth to it than he'd realized. Artie knew he came off as cool and detached, most of the time, but that was a defense tactic. He'd long ago learned that one downside of being very feeling-oriented was that he picked up on others' feelings so readily that they could quickly become overwhelming, even painful, to absorb. And Claudia was practically radiating fear, uncertainty, and... something else, something deep and complicated and more than a little bit scary to him. He glanced toward her again, momentarily, wishing he knew how to handle this relational stuff. As much as he craved it, he'd learned long ago that it was too hard to figure out,, that tapping into his love of history was perhaps not as fulfilling, but much easier. But now... Claudia had changed all that.
"Are you sure it was me who was coming to save you?" he asked, finally deciding that his desire to know and understand, far outweighed his desire to avoid creating a situation that he might not be able to deal with. Claudia nodded in response. Artie thought about that for a moment before formulating his next question.
"And I came." Claudia nodded again. "Because you yelled... for me?" he asked, still seeking clarity. Another nod in response. "You're sure it wasn't..." he began, stopping when he realized he had no idea what words should come next. Claudia rolled her eyes.
"I don't know any other Arties, and even if I did, you're the only one who would save me from MacPherson. Besides, I remember, I was in this narrow alley and it echoed really..." Claudia's words died on her lips. Artie watched as her eyes widened slightly, and that deer-in-headlights look came over her face, the one that usually meant somebody had crossed too closely into her personal space. She'd figured it out, Artie realized. Claudia already knew she often screamed aloud in her frantic attempt to escape the horrors of her nightmares, and it was almost always something completely rational within the context of the dream. She had just put together that information, with the relationship the two had within the dream. Claudia knew what had made him so flustered, Artie knew by the way she stared into her mostly-finished mug as if she expected the remaining cocoa to get up and do tricks. Her eyes kept darting up to his face, watching him study her as if she were a cipher he was trying to crack.
"Just what was I saying, that woke everybody up?" Claudia finally asked, suspicion practically dripping from each word. Artie wondered briefly if he could dodge the issue, since Claudia obviously didn't want to quite believe what had taken place, though he also wondered if it would even matter. Dreams are just that, after all... they're not always realistic. Claudia's dreams were almost always highly realistic, but... maybe he could get away with it this once. "Artie," Claudia said, interrupting his thoughts, "what did I say?"
"You were screaming 'Daddy, help' a lot, and loudly," Pete answered as he breezed back into the room, utterly unaware of the level of awkwardness he'd just created. "All the doors and windows check out, so I'm going back to bed." Pete didn't wait for a response before stepping back into the hall and swinging Artie's door shut, never having noticed Claudia staring sheepishly at the foot of the bed, nor Artie peering thoughtfully at the young woman trying to avoid his gaze. For once, Artie was relieved by Pete's tendency to miss these kinds of nonverbal cues. Artie, who'd been planning to make up an answer about her yelling for Joshua, could just about strangle the younger man for walking in at the worst possible moment.
Father figure. Those words still haunted him, even after a few months. He knew what it meant, of course. Guardian. Provider. Mentor. Disciplinarian. He'd taken on those roles, one by one, within a couple months of Claudia's crash-landing into his life, forever changing its landscape. He'd had to fight her stubborn independence, in order to do it, of course. But even as she fought him, he'd seen her her heart soften, a loving nature beginning to show through the facade of disdain and confidence, quickly replacing the brash independence born of anger and rejection. He'd always gotten the feeling that while Claudia did have a soft spot for her boss, she mostly played along because she'd learned that's how you last longer in each foster placement. But now he was presented with new facts – or was this just a product of the nightmare? – that had the potential to again change the landscape of their lives.
"Is – did you – I mean – was –" Artie stuttered, searching for the right words. Claudia froze mid-sip. She raised an eyebrow, shooting him one one of the withering looks that she'd practically patented, causing Artie to breathe a sigh of frustration. "Is that how you see me?" he asked finally. Not nearly as elegant as he wanted the question to be, he thought, but it was simple and, he hoped, neutral enough to provoke a truthful answer from the young woman who often suppressed herself in order to present the facade that she thought others expected of her.
"You're my boss," she answered in a patently teenage manner. Artie watched the protective wall grow around her heart. He nodded, desperately wanting to just accept that answer, let it go, and get back to sleep. But then the nagging questions came back into his mind. What did Claudia need from him? What did she want? He'd promised Joshua that he would take care of her. What did he need to do, to feel satisfied that he was living up to that promise? Artie drew a deep breath, entirely unprepared for this, but also determined not to accept the easy answer. That wasn't good enough for him, not this time.
"Yes, I am your boss," he answered. "But we've already established that I'm... why am I even... you didn't answer my question. Is that how you see me?" Artie cocked his head, just a little bit surprised at the sheepish expression Claudia wore as she inspected her fingernails. Her actions had answered far more clearly than words ever could. That huge hole in her life caused by so much loss, she couldn't fill it by herself any longer. Artie held her just a little tighter, more securely, as he rubbed his free hand gently over her arm. Touch always soothed Claudia's frayed nerves more than she wanted to admit.
"Is this a new thing, or...?" he asked, this time leaving his question open, giving her just a little control over the conversation.
"It's not a thing at all," Claudia began to explain. "When I got sick and you took me to the doctor, they all assumed you were the parent. I guess that... worked its way into my dream somehow." Artie made a sound somewhere between a snicker and a scoff. He knew that the only way things worked their way into her nightmares was if she'd been thinking intensely on them for a few weeks. When the medical staff had presumed the pair to be related, Artie hadn't corrected them because he didn't want to risk starting a discussion about who could be allowed into the overly-small exam room. And, if he were perfectly honest with himself, it had something of an appealing ring to it, bringing a small smile to his face. But life, as it often does, had gone on, and he'd set that moment aside for more urgent matters. Had Claudia really been pondering it intensely enough that it worked itself into her dreams, that she had made it so real to her unconscious self?
"That was..." Artie began, mentally counting the weeks since the day Claudia had woken up so sick that all he could think to do was gather her up, blanket and all, and take her to the local urgent care clinic. "You've been thinking about that for over two months? I didn't even realize you were conscious enough to notice it." Claudia only stared at him, entirely unable to respond. He almost chuckled, taking in her expression. Deer in the headlights could learn a thing or two from her wild-eyed panic. She'd been thinking, no, obsessing, about that moment in time, for nine weeks. Maybe longer, he thought as he realized it had been a good three or four months since she'd attached that semi-parental term to his role in her life. It wasn't that he didn't think she'd meant it, of course. He just hadn't thought she'd meant it quite so literally at the time, but... clearly this ran a little deeper than he'd realized... or maybe deeper than he was ready to admit consciously.
Artie expected her to turn away, maybe even run away, in fear, but for some reason she seemed paralyzed. He took the opportunity to observe, to ponder the inescapable change that tonight's nightmare had brought. Claudia hadn't been yelling "no" or simply "help", like so many nights... she'd been calling Artie to come save her. And he'd known it from the moment he heard it. Artie had heard a great many stories from Joshua, about the parents that Claudia barely remembered, if at all. They'd sounded like wonderful people, but they had been gone for a very long time. This was his job now. Artie's mind lurched to a halt at that, and he could envision himself in his mind, walking past rows of thoughts like library books, and taking a few steps back to the last row to do a double-take. His job. He turned that over and over in his thoughts, seeing the words in a whole new way tonight. Somehow, by God or some force of the universe, Artie had been both burdened and honored with the job that Mr. Donovan had been forced to leave unfinished... and Claudia needed to know that, needed to hear it from him before fear and the expectation of rejection ate her alive.
Suppressing any trace of his own hesitation, Artie swept her bright purple streak of hair back and kissed her forehead before tugging her into his embrace and resting his cheek against her temple. Claudia's small arms wrapped loosely around him in response, her hands touching his ribs right where nobody knew he was wildly ticklish. He took a deep breath, then another. So many words swirled in his head, so many questions, overwhelming him until he caught sight of the only word that Claudia needed.
"Okay," Artie said softly. Claudia nodded against him in response. He wasn't entirely sure what he was saying okay to, since she'd defined the relationship in the diner a few months before, and he'd let her definition stand uncontested. But it was evident she wanted... something... and he felt as certain that he was willing to provide it, as he felt that if he were to ask that question first, he'd never get a straight answer from the insecure teen.
"Any chance you can spell out exactly what you want from me, so I have half a chance at getting it right?" Artie finally asked, figuring that might be the best way to word his question. He felt rather than heard Claudia chuckle in response.
"You agreed without even knowing the terms? Didn't anybody ever tell you you're supposed to get something in writing, have a lawyer look it over, before you agree to a contract?"
"You can skip over that step when you're willing to accept any and all of the other party's requests in a heartbeat, no matter what they are." Claudia's laid-back attitude chilled to one of nervousness, as she began to pull away from his grasp. "What, Claudia, what are you – "
"If you really mean that, that there's nothing you'd say no to, then I can show you the answer, I just need..." Her words faded when Artie let go. He watched with concern as she got up and walked toward the bedroom door, breathing a very quiet sigh of relief when she stopped at the bookcase and began reading the titles. Artie wondered what book he might own, that might answer his question. His collection was almost entirely history, a mix of personal accounts and third-party analysis. He watched as she touched several books at shoulder-height, then hummed something vaguely victorious as she gently slid a book off the shelf and into her hands, blowing the dust off before she turned back toward the bed. Puzzled, he took the book when she held it out to him. He smiled upon seeing the title. So Many Miracles, the story of a Jewish couple's survival in WWII-Poland, as told by them to their son. Artie had stumbled upon a signed first edition in a local used bookstore, years ago, and mostly picked it up for the novelty, but he'd found himself drawn into the story by the end of the first page. Artie glanced up at Claudia, not entirely sure how this book answered his question, but she'd taken a keen interest in the rug.
When he turned his gaze back downward, determined to figure out the puzzle she'd presented, he suddenly realized that some of the pages were just a little bit bigger than the rest. Aha, he thought, gently sliding the loose papers out. This, whatever it was, was the answer he sought. Artie paused, suddenly realizing something.
"You already... and you hid it in... why this book? Why not just give it to me?"
"I wasn't ready for that kind of risk," Claudia answered, her tone deceptively even. "I knew you'd never find it there, and it's a good book, so I knew I'd remember where I put it." Artie breathed a sigh that might have become a laugh, except that any wry amusement died as soon as he unfolded the pages, reading the heading on the first, then paging through them so quickly he was surprised he didn't get a paper cut.
He looked up at his young companion, mouth open, ready to ask a question, when he suddenly realized he'd seen a post-it stuck to the top page, with an address and phone number, and the date as of which the information was current. It had been... Artie turned his gaze back downward, thinking carefully. Yes, he remembered... there had been so many forms to fill out after Pete and Myka had returned from the prison, having successfully re-hung the quartz cross artifact that cured the crazy, as Pete had so delicately put it. And Artie had had to sign and date each form. These forms had been filled out and signed just a couple days after he'd saved Claudia from her own impulsiveness, and from being killed by Volta's lab coat. It probably took her that long to do this research, he realized, remembering he'd grounded her for that little stunt.
"You did this almost a year ago," Artie said, looking back up at her. Claudia hummed in agreement. "I take it you're still sure." She nodded, still avoiding eye contact. "Does this need to be notarized, or – "
"No, you just have to call and schedule a time, show up, all that. Hardest part is not getting bored to death by the drive all the way to Deadwood." Artie chuckled, flipping through the pages once more. He wanted to ask again if she was sure, but he knew that if she weren't, he wouldn't be holding the pages. Well, this wasn't exactly the answer he'd expected to get from her... and yet, somehow, he'd seen it coming.
"Come sit down," Artie instructed, gesturing towards his left side, as his right hand groped blindly for the pen he knew he kept in his nightstand drawer. Once Claudia settled at his side, Artie began turning through the pages again. "Just making sure the facts are accurate," he assured her. He flipped through each page, double-checking everything, before he wrapped his left arm completely around Claudia, reaching around her waist and gripping the book in his hand so he could use it for a writing surface. "Here, you hold the pages still for me," he said, even though she was already doing it. He could feel her heart pounding, shaking her whole body, as he clicked his pen and made a test scribble in the corner of the post-it that he'd peeled off and stuck to the nightstand. Claudia's hands trembled as she held each page still against the book, watching Artie sign and date each in his precise script. When he was finished, he set the book and papers on his nightstand.
"There you go, all done."
"Well, once you go turn it in," Claudia said. Artie shook his head at her before she even got the sentence out.
"When an adult signs his name to a contract, it's generally valid immediately. Turning it in is just a formality." The pair fell quiet for a moment before Artie spoke again. "You know you didn't need it in writing to make it true, right?" Artie asked his young companion.
"You didn't need it in writing," Claudia clarified. "After all the crap I've been through, I kind of do." Artie squeezed just a little tighter at her answer, not really wanting to delve into the pain behind that statement at this hour. They could come back to it later. His head was killing him, and the sunrise had begun illuminating the curtains a little while ago. "Thank you," Claudia said softly, leaning into him just a little more. Artie kissed her forehead again.
"Just don't get the idea that you can do whatever you want, now," he said in a tone of mock sternness. Claudia smiled up at him, all the reply she needed to give. "Think you can sleep, now that it's almost time to get up?" Claudia groaned when she realized how late it was... or how early. "I'll turn my alarm off... the world will go on even if we take a day to rest up, trust me." Artie grabbed his notepad from his nightstand drawer, dashing off a quick note to Pete and Myka, giving them the day off, and stuck it to the outside of his bedroom door. Then he tugged Claudia out of his bed, tucking her into her own before he turned the lights off, drew his room-darkening layer of curtains shut, and crawled into his own bed. Both of them were asleep within minutes, their energy completely spent.
It was ten in the morning when Myka decided to check up on her colleagues, mostly because Pete was driving her positively insane downstairs, and she needed a break even if it was only for a moment. A day off was welcome, until she realized how quickly her childlike partner got bored. She opened the door quietly, letting light from the hallway illuminate the room. Artie was sound asleep, nearly face-down on his bed. Glancing to the side, she saw Claudia curled up in a nest of blankets on her fold-out bed. Reassured that the both of them were all right, she turned to leave, then glanced back when she realized she'd seen papers scattered all over the floor by the nightstand. Artie must have knocked them off in his somewhat active sleep, she realized, stooping to helpfully pick them back up.
It wasn't her intent to be nosy, of course, but as Myka picked up pages and turned them all upright, she couldn't help but notice the official-looking nature of the pages. And even if she tried, she couldn't miss the large, bold print at the top of one in particular. Petition for adoption of adult. Okay, now she did mean to be nosy, she thought to herself as she read the pages establishing that Artie did indeed meet South Dakota's requirements to legally adopt one Claudia Marie Donovan Nielsen. Shocked, she looked up towards Artie, only to gasp and stumble slightly when she found his eyes peering back at her.
"I'm sorry – " Myka began.
"Don't be. I needed to wake up... need to call the court and schedule a date to go enter that into the public record." He took the stack and put it back on the nightstand, then beckoned for Myka to follow him as he exited the bedroom and swung the door mostly closed. "I want her to sleep a few more hours if she can. I thought we'd go out for dinner tonight, and make the announcement, if you think you can keep it under your hat until then." Myka, still a little flustered, nodded her agreement. She followed him to the end of the hall, watching him call to schedule a court date for this coming Friday, before heading back towards his room to catch up on sleep.
"I suppose congratulations are in order...?" she asked, too stunned to even sort out the thousand questions swirling in her mind. Artie, too, looked a bit flummoxed, she realized.
"I – more than a decade overdue... putting it in writing is merely a formality, and... oh, my God, Myka... a daughter..." Myka would have laughed at Artie's discombobulated state, if the quiet hadn't been broken by a whimper drifting into the hall through the partially-open bedroom door. Claudia was known to have even more nightmares when she stayed up into the wee hours of morning, but this one was much more mild, they could tell by the volume. Still, concern came over Artie's face as he hurried into the room. Myka stood at the doorway, watching her boss drop to his knees beside the folded-out armchair, with no regard to his own pain as Claudia's fearful whimpers escalated. It seemed under control, but Myka stayed put anyway in case Artie needed help.
"It's okay," Artie said quietly, gathering her up in his arms, completely oblivious to his one-woman audience. "I'm right... Daddy's here, you're safe." Myka watched as Claudia's eyes flew open in shock, right before she threw her arms around Artie, clinging as if her life depended on it. She reached into the room and grasped the doorknob, pulling the door shut. Claudia's only need from her, right now, was for her to step back and let Artie do his job, Myka realized with a smile as she descended the stairs, already excited for dinner.