It was three days later, three days since Dave had smuggled them to this tiny cabin presumably in the middle of nowhere, and Blaine and Elsa were going stir crazy.
Dave left them to their own devices during the day. He would come back to them in the late evening and feed them a barely edible dinner - Dave was an awful cook, but he didn't want Blaine helping him for fear Blaine would try to use the heat of the stove or the knives he used for food prep against him - and then attempt to bond with his daughter. Elsa, normally a relatively agreeable child from what Blaine had experienced, regressed into her "terrible" twos and threes and did everything she could to discourage any attention from Dave.
Blaine couldn't blame Elsa, really. For a man that Elsa had once called a father, Dave didn't know anything about his child. He had brought her a couple of books the other day, but they were board books with pictures. Blaine had found out quickly that Elsa knew her alphabet well and was able to read simple short stories by herself. She took offense to being given "baby books" and Dave began losing any respect she had left for him. His most recent attempt to play with her included a naked, dollar store Barbie knock off. He didn't even have one to play with himself, so they couldn't act out any scenes together or anything that children do when they are playing with others. The final straw was when the head of the poorly made doll popped off and bounced across the room. Elsa rose from the floor where they had been sitting and asked to be allowed back into the room where Blaine was locked up during the time Elsa and Dave were spending together. Defeated, Dave escorted her back to the room.
Not for the first time did Dave question himself as to whether trying to take Elsa away from her daddy and raise her himself was a good idea after all.
