Although she may leave, she'll never forget her way home.
The first time she left, it was right after he confronted her about the three positive pregnancy tests he found in her book bag. She looked him in the eye, said they were hers, she was six weeks along, and then, with typical diva fashion, stormed out the door.
A few hours later, she closed the door to his room silently, kissed the cheek of his sleeping form and curled into his side. When he woke, she said she had needed to clear her head and was ready to talk now. She promised that she loved him and would never leave again. He asked her if her dads were okay with her being out this late. She snorted and told him that they had informed her that she was eighteen and pregnant and they could no longer support her. Bing, bang, boom it was done; in as little as fifteen minutes, her fathers had rid of that pesky client that would never go away, but now had to. In that moment, with tears running down her cheeks, he never loved her more, comforting and reassuring her, and himself that she, they, would be okay, the three of them would be okay.
She upheld her promise for a grand total of 7 months, two weeks, and five days.
The second time she left, Amelia, or Emmie as he called her, was five days old. He was left with the fallout. The sleepless nights up with Emmie, alone, having to quit his job to take care of said girl, struggling with the bills and almost losing the small house they had bought together before Emmie was born, twice, all in the span of three months. Luckily, after the McKinley high glee club graduated, those staying in Lima helped to care for Emmie so he could beg and plead for his job back, and get a second working for Burt Hummel. Two months after he got himself back on his feet and the creditors to stop hounding him, she came home sporting a new hair cut, a deep tan, and expensive clothes. Without saying a word he took her into his arms and instantly forgave her.
Right after Emmie's first birthday, and Christmas, he woke one morning to an empty bed and instantly knew she was gone. Santana and Finn came over most nights and played house with Emmie while he went to the bar. He came home every morning drunk and unable to stand up. Three months into this routine, he wound up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. It was at that moment that she deemed it the perfect moment to come home. In a huff, she stormed into the hospital room and proceeded to scream at him for an hour and a half about what an irresponsible parent he was. He was numb; feeling nothing, just sitting up and staring at the new tattoo on her hip bone as she paced back in forth. It was an eye opening experience. He checked himself out of the hospital and into rehab, attending nightly AA meeting and turning his life around.
At his "graduation" from the program two months later, she was there. With a welcoming hug and Emmie in her arms, she whispered in his ear that she knew he could do it and she was proud of him. He smiled an empty smile back and listened to Emmie blabber on and on about SpongeBob, which she scoffed at, and informed him that from now on, Emmie will only be watching educational programming beneficial to her growth. He was so happy to have her back in his life that he didn't care.
One month later, she received a call from her agent; he didn't even know that she had one that had her leaving in a flurry of night club type dresses, low cut shirts and phrases all concerning her love of Broadway and Sweeney Todd. Two days after the call, she left right after kissing Emmie on the cheek, and giving him a parting hug. He stood in the doorway waving at her like an idiot. She was too busy calling who knows who on her shiny new iPhone to notice.
She got the part. He knew she would. Not as the lead; no, she was cast as the understudy to Joanna and a chorus member. A few shows a month, the lead was sick or drunk, so she got to take her place. In an email to him, she said that although she is not the lead, she is finally getting the attention and adoration she deserves. He is heartbroken when he reads the email. But he puts on his usual cool façade and moves on, holding it all in.
The first day of kindergarten, Emmie looks around at the parents with their kids and catches the eyes of her dad who gives her two thumbs up. She plasters on a fake smile, the trait inherited from both parents, and waves tentatively back. That night when he's tucking her into bed, she asks why she only has daddy and no mommy. He looks at her for a moment and breaks down. The father and daughter cry each other to sleep.
The next morning, he makes a vow to himself that the next time she comes back, whether it is two days, two weeks, or two months, he will make her earn her way back; he won't just automatically accept her back. It's hurting Emmie, and not to mention himself, too much. What he doesn't anticipate, no one did, was Tim Burton to be in the audience one night she is performing, like her, get her the lead in a Hollywood drama, her along with her co-star to receive Oscars for their performance, and to marry said co-star, all in the span of three years since she last left.
The next eight years pass quietly. He follows her whereabouts through the tabloids in the grocery aisle. He sees a scandal, a divorce, a remarriage, a dramatic affair, a miscarriage, and finally a divorce, all through the shiny covers of US Weekly and People.
Emmie, grows to be a proportionate combination of both her parents. She's beautiful, dramatic, and talented, oh God, is she talented. Only sixteen and she has Julliard and other music programs scouting her, not to mention several record labels wanting her John Hancock on a contract. One morning while Emmie is at the kitchen table eating breakfast and texting her friends, he hears the doorbell ring and the screech of Emmie's chair against the hardwood floor. Next thing he sees is Emmie running up the stairs, angry tears already falling from eyes. He runs after and tries to console her. When he asks her what is wrong, she tells him that SHE is back. Her voice is laced with venom, and she glares at him through her shiny, tear filled eyes.
His stomach drops. He tells Emmie about her mother, at any opportunity he gets, so she will not be lied to about her life. If Emmie leaves him too, he will have nothing. So whenever a new movie comes out starring her, the father and daughter see it together. He shakes his head and walks down the stairs. He looks to the porch where he sees her standing. He opens the door and just looks at her. She looks the same; older, more mature, perhaps, but so does he. She looks at him and whispers his name. He has to physically restrain himself from gathering her into his arms and kissing her senseless. He shakes his head at her and whispers that he can't do this, not again. He uses Emmie as an excuse, but really, he can't deal with it anymore. He whispers that he's sorry, and hot tears sting his eyes as he closes the door in her face. It doesn't occur to him that this is the first time he's stood up to her. He doesn't notice the way he stands taller now that she's not dragging him down.
He lets Emmie skip school and they both eat a gallon of ice cream and watch marathons of an old show he used to watch, Psych. They laugh and, for the first time, have a good time without the weight of her and the rest of the world on their shoulders.
Their feel-good-family-moment is shattered at 9:28 that night with one phone call. He sits up quickly, scattering potato chips everywhere. From the light of the television showing a basketball game with the Cavaliers crushing the Heat, he sees that Emmie is sleeping. Cursing his aging joints, he makes his way to the ringing telephone and answers it.
It wasn't hard to identify her, they tell them. With one glance at the latest National enquirer, they knew exactly who she was. They tell the pair that they are sincerely sorry, and that they will give them some time alone. They pull the white sheet over her head and leave to, no doubt, inform the closest news outlet that the infamous Rachel Berry has been involved in an accident.
He swallows a large lump in his throat and turns to his last remaining connection to her. With tears in her eyes, she looks at him and collapses into his arms. The father and daughter hold each other tight, letting go of and mourning the woman they never really knew.
….
A/N: WHEW! Gahh! Geez I've had this story brewing and festering on my laptop for what, months now? Yeesh and what's up with me and these angsty stories lately? Well...It's only been two...But still, I hate angst! The world must be ending if I've tolerated this much of it!
ALSO! I totally may have ripped off the tagline from a Life With Derek Dasey story..If it is yours, my deepest apologies. I tried to search it and figure it out, but the search engine was "experiencing technical difficulties" and I kept trying again every "few minutes" and an hour later, it still wasn't working. Kiiinnndaaa made me want to pull my hair out. Anyway, if it is yours, PM me and I will write you a very heartfelt apology.
And I would like to make it clear: I have no set "man" for this story. I wrote it with Puck in mind, but it could be Mike, Sam, Matt, heck! Even Blain if you're feeling it! So pretty, pretty please review it up!