'Where went that cheeky friend of mine? Where went that billion dollar smile?'

Manchester, 2012

"You okay, Scrap?" Richard Barker carefully pushed the door open to his daughter's bedroom, she was packing, she barely looked up as he walked in. "Nearly done?"

"Almost." She said, still not looking at him.

He watched her carefully, her slow and tired movements. She was still recovering, five months on. "Do you need any help?"

"No, thank you." Her voice was dry, emotionless. She was too tired, drained for anything else.

"Have you eaten?"

"I'm not hungry."

He sighed, leaning against the door frame, keeping his distance as she continued to pack. His little girl. His youngest daughter. He had three children. His eldest daughter was long gone and he regretted every decision he made with her. Then there were the twins. Alec and Katherine. Katie. His funny little girl who no matter what life threw at her she powered on, even when she was hurting.

Seeing her like this was killing him. Because he didn't know this woman. She was a stranger. She wasn't his Katie. Not at all. There was no fight in her, just acceptance. Accepting her situation, accepting whatever was going to happen next. That wasn't the Kate he knew. The woman he knew fought for whatever she wanted, she always had. When everyone told her she couldn't go to university she only became more determined to prove them wrong. When everyone told her she wouldn't make something of herself, she proved them wrong. But now? It was like a light had gone out.

He knew that he and Kate's mum hadn't been the best parents. In one way or another they just always seemed to get it wrong. They got it wrong with her sister and things seemed to spiral out of control. Somewhere between keeping a roof over their heads and just surviving the day to day, Richard and his wife had fallen apart themselves. And suddenly it was their children looking after them.

But now here she was, his daughter, his little girl, all grown up. And for the first time in her life, she really needed her parents. She needed them to look after her because she couldn't be trusted to look after herself. She'd grown up, got a career, her own place, her own life. Then it had all come crashing down and she'd ended up living with her parents again. There had been some role reversal somewhere along the line and for the first time, she openly admitted she needed their help.

He remembered quite clearly sitting with her in the hospital, as the realisation of everything had set in. She'd looked at him, openly crying in front of him for the first time since she was a teenager. She'd looked at him the way a child should look at a parent, with the hope that their parent can make everything better. Only Richard didn't know how to make things okay again. He wished he did. But he had no idea.

Five months down the line and still, there was part of his daughter missing. Her spark, that cheeky sense of humour she'd always had, her smile, her ability to always say what she thought, her skill of being able to get away with anything. She'd lost her confidence.

"It's going to be okay, princess." He said and she stopped what she was doing to look at him. "It's all going to be okay."

"You can't promise me that..."

"I don't need to." He stepped cautiously further into the room. "Everything is going to be fine. And all this..." He gestured to her suitcase on the bed. "That's going to be fine, you're going to do great in this job."

She sighed sitting down on the bed. "I'm lucky to still have a job."

"None of this was your fault."

"I lost a trial, was kidnapped and almost killed by my client and then proceeded to find out that whilst that was happening my boyfriend was cheating on me all on the same day. You're saying none of that was my fault?"

"The jury made a decision, you did your job, you couldn't have done any more. Your client was suffering from extreme mental health issues and the security at the court should have prevented him from doing what he did. And as for what happened with Eddie, don't you dare blame yourself for that."

"But..."

"But nothing." He sat beside her. "Scrap, you did nothing wrong. You were always there for Eddie. You were the one bailing him out of every situation he got himself in. You were trying to keep him sober. And did he ever have any respect for you? Your choices? Your career?"

"I focused too much on my career."

"Because you worked hard to get to this point." He put his hand on her arm. "Edward didn't deserve you. He isn't worth stressing over..."

"Dad..."

"Yeah you were together for a few years but as you were moving forward what was he doing? Drinking. Getting in trouble. Making you feel bad about yourself. He's not worth it, Katie. You deserve better than that."

"Doesn't really make me feel any better." She ran her hand over her face. "Because...all of this just shows...I wasn't enough. That no matter what I did or didn't do, it wasn't enough. And no matter who it is, that's not a nice feeling to have...because how do you ever start to think differently about yourself after that? Whether you loved them or not."

He took her hand. "This is all just a bump in the road, Scrap. I should know, I've had enough of them, And caused quite a few..."

She met his gaze. "I'm sorry."

"You've nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all. It's me who should be sorry. I know I wasn't always there for you when you were growing up. I was always working or in prison or keeping the boxing club going but..." He put his hand to her face. "You still are, and always will be, my little girl. And you've not been yourself for a while. At least not the Katie I know."

"I know."

"And me and your mam, we're here now and we're not going anywhere."

She blinked. "Am I doing the right thing? Leaving?"

"You've got the chance at a fresh start, Scrap." He laughed slightly. "I know you've got to sort all this stuff with your defensive contract out in London but after all that is done, you can start again. New job, new people. Leave all this in the past, eh?"

"I..."

"And you and Alec will be back together again when you move to London. Twins. You can drive people mad down south, they can have a taste of what I've put up with all these years."

"We weren't that bad."

"Weren't that bad? The gob on the pair of you was enough to drive anyone up the wall."

Kate laughed, for the first time in a long time, she'd almost forgotten what it was like. "One of my earliest memories is sitting at the boxing club with you and Alec...Alec telling me girls can't fight and me pushing him over."

Richard chuckled fondly at the memory. One of the only things he had was a boxing gym that had belonged to his grandfather. A family tradition. He'd been a boxing instructor and so had Richard. Maybe it hadn't been the best place to take his children but they hadn't minded. They became quite attached to the place. Even when they had nothing, Kate wouldn't let him sell it, she said it was too important. It was the most stable income they had. She said that no matter how bad things got they'd never fall so low as to get rid of it. He knew, more than anything, she protected it because the place meant a lot to her brother and she would do anything for him. "I remember. And I know how much you miss him and the kids."

"Yeah..."

"Rosanna most of all."

Kate bit her lip. "She...the other two are still so little. And they have a mum. Rosie doesn't. She's nearly a teenager and...I'm the only mother figure she's ever really had prior to Victoria."

"I know." He nodded. "You did good with her, Scrap. Vicky getting that job in London really affected everyone."

"But we could hardly tell her not to take it, could we? She's Alec's wife. Rosie might have wanted to stay with me...but...how could I separate her from Alec? It would have crushed him. And he's trying to get her to bond more with Vicky."

"Good luck to him with that. The girl is a true Barker. She isn't quick to trust and is too loyal to step aside easy."

"Vicky is her stepmother and she adores her."

"And Rosie idolises you. As does Alec."

"And there have been times when I've admired him. Not many I'll admit."

Richard laughed. Kate had always been the sensible one in the family, the only one with their head on somewhat straight. Kate's mum had suffered from depression. He had been in and out of prison. Her sister had been a drug addict. Her brother had just been a troublemaker. He made rash decisions and never thought through the consequences. He had gone through a wild phase. One which had resulted in him being a father at nineteen. Then a single father just over five months later when the mother of his baby, Kate's closest friend, died in a car accident. Kate had always been the one trying to keep everything together. She made sure her mother was okay. She did everything to keep her dad on the straight path. She made Alec calm down and do something with his life before it was too late. She'd even gone so far as to take on a 'mothering' role in her niece's life. She'd spent so long looking after other people Richard wondered if all the stress was catching up with her and the events that took place five months ago had just been the things that broke her.

"It's all going to be okay, scrap." He said getting to his feet. "All of this...it will pass, what you're feeling now it will pass... and you're going to be just fine."

She tilted her head. "When did you start being the one giving out the advice and me listening rather than the other way round."

He didn't answer, simply smiled sadly. He knew when and so did she, but neither was going to say it.

"If you're not down for food in half an hour I'm sending your mother up, and I'm warning you it won't be a pretty sight."

"I'll come down, I promise." Kate watched as her dad turned and left the room.

Alone, she let herself fall back on the bed, exhausted. Staring up at the ceiling she wondered how many times she'd been in this position. Laid there, staring, wondering. The last few months of her life had been hell, and yet still hadn't been her darkest moments. But they'd been a catalyst. They'd been her breaking point. Now she was putting herself back together. That meant leaving. Because this city held too many memories, too many ghosts. She just wanted to start again. Somewhere else. She'd been offered a job, by the director of the CPS in London, he asked if she felt like doing something different after her ordeal and she wasn't in a position to say no. No one around here would touch her, not after the way her last trial had ended. So she was to complete her current contract in London, it would take a few months and she'd probably be assigned another trial in the meantime. But then it would all be over.

That's what she had to keep telling herself. That it would all be over soon. Because it was the only thing keeping her going. She'd suffered some kind of breakdown following the trial and everything that followed, not that she could be blamed for that. But she knew she wasn't herself. She felt numb, as though she was drowning and she didn't know how to cope with it all. Now, she just wanted to be herself again. Whatever that meant.