Alone
Dawn didn't know what to do. It felt like she couldn't breath, that the walls were closing in. She had tried sleeping but it only brought pain. Her heart hurt and she had no idea how to heal it.
Everyone had been sympathetic, especially the ones who knew how it felt. And she appreciated it, she really, truly did. But hearing the same words over and over again, it just made her heart ache even more.
Ash and Misty were the only ones who hadn't really said anything because they knew. They knew that all those "sorry's" and the "it'll get better's" were just words people said because there wasn't anything else to say. And they got it. Unfortunately they got it.
Dawn sat on the back porch without a coat on. It was snowing, the little flakes spinning toward the ground and dusting her hair but she didn't care. She had been feeling cold all week, what was a little flurrie?
She had run out of tears so now her eyes were just red and raw. Her face was pale and red all at the same time. In general she looked awful and everyone was too polite to say anything.
She let out a shaky breath. Dawn had always known that this was a possibility but had never dreamed that it would actually happen. It was the worst nightmare of anyone related to a police officer. It was the sort of thing that didn't happen to her, it was only a tragedy that happened to someone else.
Dawn heard the back door open but she had no energy to turn around. She didn't think she could take any more sympathy, anymore empathy. And she prayed to god that it wasn't her mother. If there was anyone on this earth that was feeling worse than Dawn it was her mom.
The steps creaked but stopped right behind her. If Dawn was lucky, they would just go back inside and leave her alone. A new wave of tears watered her eyes but she did nothing to stop them.
"You're going to get sick if you stay out here."
Dawn would have laughed if the situation wasn't so horrible. To think Paul, Paul who hated human emotion like a child hates broccoli, would be concerned about her. It was like seeing a solar eclipse it was so rare.
"I don't care." She muttered, surprisingly she didn't stutter her words.
"He would."
"But he's not here anymore."
"And he never will be."
Most people would think Paul was an asshole for saying that, especially to a grieving daughter. But they were words Dawn wanted to, needed to hear.
"I know," Dawn turned around from her seat and stared up at him. He stared back at her, face unreadable as usual. "But… he was my dad."
"I know."
No more words were exchanged. Dawn eventually turned around and sniffed. Paul shrugged off his coat, not giving a damn about the weather and tossed it on her and she wrapped it around herself. Then he sat down next to her. He didn't put his arm around her or anything, he just sat on the wood with her and stared out into nothing. And because of his caring, uncaring attitude, Dawn felt herself smile. A minuscule smile that only lasted for a split second.
All she had wanted was to be alone but now she realized all she needed was a silent presence.
And fortunately for her, that was Paul's specialty.
