'What's that look for?'
'What look?'
'That one.'
'What one?' Carla throws her teenager a look, warning her that it isn't funny. 'Nowt.'
'It doesn't look like nowt. C'mon baby, I can help.'
'No, you can't' she mutters, hauling herself off the sofa. 'I don't want you to help.' Carla wonders why a stabbing feeling suddenly overcame her, just as her teenager left the room.
A feeling that made her breathless, barely able to breathe. She wondered what it was, her daughter flouncing off. She's done it before; she'll do it again.
But it was the other part.
I don't want your help.
She'd used to say that when she was little, when she wanted to build a Lego tower all by herself and she was too small to finish it. Carla volunteered to help her, but she wasn't happy, trying her hardest to-do it.
It ended up with a trip to a&e.
And a sprained wrist.
She'd wanted to be cuddled and held tight, that night.
Or like the time when she was drawing a picture and Carla had volunteered to help her, she got a similar response.
Not that it mattered, it had happened hundreds of times and it had been fine.
But her thirteen-year-old suddenly saying it.
It cut deeper than she ever thought possible.
She didn't need her anymore. Her job was redundant.
The other times she'd come and find her mum shortly afterwards and Carla would get a cuddle. She'd want her. She come to Carla with everything little thing.
A far cry from her and Sharon.
But she'd been growing away from her, wanting to go out more with her friends.
She'd stopped doing everything but her dance lessons. Carla smiles sadly as Galaxy walks in, going to pick her up.
'At least you love me' she whispers, kissing it's fur, 'at least you love me.'
-CS-
'How was your day?'
'Yeah, fine. It was quite quiet.' He grins, 'have you actually cooked?'
'Shut up, you' she whispers, 'it's just pasta.'
'Good, you can't kill me then.' Carla bites her lip, as he rolls his eyes. 'Where is our child?'
'Dunno' Carla admits, looking out the window, 'I think she's in her room.'
'Have you two had a fight?'
'Why would you say that?'
'You seem down'
'I'm fine.'
'No, Car, no, you aren't.'
'I don't know, Peter. It's Dee.'
'What's happened? Have you had a fight?'
'No' she sighs, 'no, we haven't fought.'
'Then what is it?'
'She doesn't need me.'
'She'll always need you.'
'Peter, she doesn't. I can't protect her like I used too.'
'You can. You're her mum.'
'But she doesn't need me, not anymore.'
'She does' he protests, pulling her into a hug, 'she'll always need you.'
'Maybe' she whispers, shrugging him off, 'maybe not.'
-CS-
'Knock, knock.'
'What?'
'It's me, Dee.'
'I know who' she mutters, the man resisting the urge to make a comment about her language.
'Can I come in?'
'I suppose' she mutters, as he opens the door. He takes a moment to look around her bedroom, he hasn't been in here for ages, since he gave up reading her a bedtime story when she was in year seven.
Her choice, not his. Not that she'd admit it, but it killed him. He could empathise with Carla.
The rooms how he remembered it, except the pictures aren't of them, it's of her friends. Granted, it's how it should be, but that doesn't help.
Her clothes aren't neatly hung up, they're in a mess over the floor. Her toy collection is nowhere to be seen; Carla told him that it's hidden away. That she's trying to be "cool" and no one has them. He just wants her to be his little girl again, but she's not.
Carla's right, she is starting to but away from her.
From them.
But she'll come back, but Carla can't see past the mist, so he's going to try and find out what's going on with their daughter.
If she'll talk to him.
'What's up?'
'Nowt'
'Nowt?' He raises his eyebrows. 'You've upset your mum.'
'I don't know why?'
'She thinks you don't need her.'
'I don't need her.'
'She's your mum.'
'And?'
'She loves you so much.'
'And I love her too' she relents, 'but I don't need her.'
'What's happened?'
'Nothing' she concedes, 'nothing important.'
'No, go on. I'm your dad, I'm here to beat anyone up.'
'That's what Si said.' She laughs slightly, putting her phone down, 'he said he'd beat someone up for me.'
'So, someone has said something?'
'No, it's nothing, dad.'
'It's upsetting you.'
'It's not' she stresses, shaking her head.
'Well it's upsetting your mum.'
'She gets upset too easily' she mutters, staring at her dad, 'you've seen her.'
'It's only because she loves you, Dee. You know she had it tough when she was younger. She wants you never to feel like that. She wants you to feel safe and loved. She wants to be part of your life.'
'I do love her.' She reminds him, wrapping her hair around her finger, 'and it's really nothing important. I promise.'
'Are you sure?'
'Yes.'
'Then please go and tell your mum you love her, she's quite upset.' The teenager groans, getting up from her bed. 'Thank you, Dee.'
-CS-
'Peter, where have you been?' A voice calls, the teenager entering the room where her mum is curled up watching the TV.
'It's not dad.'
'What are you doing, Dee?'
'I've come to see you.'
'Why?'
'Dad said I made you sad.'
'You didn't' she tries, neither of them believing it, but at the same time, neither of them questions it.
'Well I'm sorry.' She whispers, joining her mum on the sofa, 'I'm sorry for upsetting you. I was tired.'
'I know, darlin' It's just me being silly, it's you grow up so fast. It feels like yesterday I brought you home, full of nerves, and now you're leaving me. You'll go to uni, or do something like that, and move out.'
'Mum' she tells her seriously, letting her mum hug her, 'you've still got a while.'
'I know baby' she promises, as they sit there in silence.
'I love you.'
'I love you too, baby girl. I love you so much.'
A/N thoughts? Wow, it's been ages and I feel like this chapter is a bit of a let-down, I felt like I needed to post something…
