AN: I own nothing! I don't know what else to say except that, for some reason, I liked these two together in season 1. I think they exchanged, oh, about 3 words for the entire season? So imagine my amazement when they started spending time together in season 2. I was inspired to write about them, though I'm sure everything here will get thrown out pretty quickly as the season progresses. So enjoy it for what it is!
Spoilers through 2x04.
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It took her a moment to process who was on the other side of her door. "Dash. What are you doing here?"
He didn't need to explain – the reason was written on his face. She hadn't wanted to see anyone. At least she thought she hadn't until he showed up at her door. She stepped back automatically, years of good habits ingrained in her as he entered her apartment, and she shut the door behind him. "Do you want a drink?"
He shook his head. "I thought you'd be with your family? But I was driving home and saw your car parked outside."
"My apartment is not on your way home from work, or the bar, or anywhere. I'm in the middle of nowhere, Dash."
"You got me," he held out his hands. "I won't apologize."
She blinked in surprise. "I wouldn't want you to." She moved to the living room and sat on the couch. Instead of choosing one of the chairs, he sat next to her. Not too close, but not too far, either. She tried to smile at him, and didn't think she succeeded. "I was at home, with them, but after a while…"
"Too much?"
She nodded. "I love them, to the ends of the earth. I just couldn't stay there any longer. I wanted to be alone."
He suddenly felt uncomfortable, abruptly aware that he was intruding upon her personal time of grief. "I'm sorry, I know exactly what you mean about wanting to be alone. After my mother died, sometimes I would sit alone in my house and…" he trailed off, inwardly berating himself. He had no right to try and turn her pain into a sad story about himself.
Ingrid didn't notice his discomfort. "I understand that," she nodded. "They were sitting around, talking about him, trading stories, and it was good, you know? Healthy. But I could only contribute so much, and after another story that I couldn't remember – may as well have never experienced – I had to leave. If I stayed there another minute longer, I was going to…I don't know."
Dash did know. "I didn't mean to bother you, I only wanted to see if you were okay. If there was anything I could do." He started to stand, but she put a hand on his arm to keep him in place.
"No," she took a deep breath, as if she were coming to a decision within herself. "I would like it if you stayed."
He acquiesced, remaining next to her on the couch. Silence fell for a minute and tears pricked at her eyes. The only sounds in the room were the two of them quietly breathing, and sometimes she couldn't even hear that. "He wasn't there," the words tore out of her without her meaning to say them.
"Your father?"
She nodded. "He wasn't there for most of my life, and I thought it was by his choice, but it turns out it wasn't. I hated him for so long and what a horrible thing for a daughter – to hate her father for leaving her when he'd never really left her at all. He didn't deserve that, those years of…" she rubbed a hand over her eyes, wishing she could wipe away her years of betrayal as easily as tears.
"You didn't know," he said quietly. "I've felt the same in my life, blamed people for things that were out of their control. There's no point in hating ourselves after the fact. You have to deal with it and forgive yourself and move on."
"I can't," she was shaking her head, "because my father's gone now." She very carefully didn't look at him. She had this strange feeling that if she let herself look at him she might fall completely apart. He reached over and took hold of her hand.
Dash had no idea how to comfort her, only felt a deep sense that he had to do the best he could. "I know he is."
"It's silly."
"What?"
"Feeling this…this sad, for a man I barely knew." She and Dash had spoken briefly in the past about her screwed up family dynamics. They actually had a running bet on whose family was more messed up (they currently saw themselves as tied).
"He was your father, Ingrid. No matter what. That counts."
She couldn't accept that. "But I didn't know him, Dash. I can't possibly have loved him the way my mother did, or my brother. Even my aunt Wendy knew him much better than me, and she disliked him a lot of that time, and she has more of a right to grieve than I do. I knew him for a few minutes in comparison to their lifetimes together." She gripped his hand tighter, trying as hard as she could to stop herself from crying. "You can't feel this way about someone you never really had a chance to know. It's wrong for me to –"
"No," he interrupted her, gently. "It's not."
She finally looked over at him, and saw the echo of grief in his eyes. He'd been there; he knew. "No," she agreed, biting her lip, "it's not."
She hadn't needed to be convinced, really; just reminded that she wasn't alone.
And when she actually did start to cry, he didn't say anything, for which she was grateful. He just pulled her closer and held her for a long time.
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