TW: mentions of baby loss

Also, apologies for the bad formatting. I'm using fanfiction on my phone and it's not going too well! Regardless, I hope you all enjoy. x

It had just gone seven, and Peter went into the kitchen to make himself a coffee. He hadn't slept, which was hardly surprising. It was at times like this that he was glad his daughter enjoyed sleeping in. It meant he could take his time now and not have to worry about the child until he had a clearer mind.

Flicking on the kettle, he put the different ingredients in his mug before sighing. Placing his head in his hands, Peter slowly broke down.

He didn't want to show his devastation to Carla, after all, she was already feeling heartbroken and he didn't want to add to that. She'd actually gone through it. His role was to support her. She needed him; relied on him to get through it. Peter wouldn't let her see him cry, and definitely not like this.

After he had finished crying, he had lost count of the minutes he spent resting on the worktop, looking into space, just thinking.

The last day or so had been the worst in his life and the time to reflect had been needed. It seemed to Peter that he had only stood there up for a matter of minutes, when he was alerted to the incoming presence of his daughter. He tried to take a sip of his drink, but spat it out almost immediately after realising how cold it had become, putting the cup to one side. The time just seemed to fly by, and he couldn't believe he'd been stood there long enough for the drink to go stone cold like that.

"Morning, Erin." Peter greeted his youngest child as she sleepily padded into the kitchen with her blanket in hand. He tried to sound cheery, as if everything was normal. He hoped that it worked. The little girl took after her mother, she picked up on the slightest change of mood. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it would make days like this harder if he knew his daughter was affected by what was going on around her.

"Daddy!" The three and a half year old called out, a huge grin on her face, as she ran towards her father. He sighed in relief that she hadn't noticed how silent and inactive the house was.

"Shh..." He instructed, pulling his daughter up and into his arms. "Mummy's still asleep." He informed her, his voice soft and quiet.

"Why?" the tot questioned, looking up at Peter, with a puzzled look on her face.

"She's not very well, sweetheart." He told her, a lump forming in his throat. He didn't know how to explain it to her. It would seem so complicated. She was so little, he had to question how much she'd actually understand. Would there be a point to telling her?

"Can I give her hugs?" She asked, her big brown eyes catching Peter's.

"Not just yet." He replied sadly. "Why don't I make you some breakfast first, and then I'll see if Mummy's awake?" He suggested, with the toddler nodding slowly. She wasn't overwhelmingly happy that she couldn't yet see her mother, but Peter thought it would be best if Carla got as much sleep as possible. They were both up all night. She needed the sleep, even if it meant that Erin put her father in her bad books for the morning.

Peter put the tot down on the floor, allowing her to walk over to the table and clamber onto one of the chairs.

After cutting up some banana and apple, and putting it in a bowl for his daughter, he placed it in front of her.

"Mummy makes it nice." Erin remarked, looking at the pieces of fruit with a grumpy look on her face.

"How does Mummy make it?" He asked her, genuinely confused at how Carla could possibly make banana and apple better than him. Unbeknownst to him, his daughter was giving him a battle, as she shrugged off his question as he turned to fetch her some juice.

Peter sat down opposite the child, watching her pick at the food in the bowl.

"How much do daddy and mummy love you?" He asked her, already knowing her response.

"The best." She smiled, looking up at him and smiling. The answer was always, and always would be, the same.

Barely a minute had passed before Erin tried her luck once more. At such a young age, she knew that all she had to do was ask and she'd get it. Overall, she was well behaved, polite and a credit to both Carla and Peter, but at home, Erin knew that she could get away with anything.

The couple didn't mind one bit. They wanted to give her the best start in life, give her all they never had, and they were more than succeeding in their quest to do just that.

"Daddy?" Erin asked, in a chirpy voice. Peter knew that she wanted something and could easily hazard a guess as to what it could be.

"Erin?" He asked back, bracing himself for the inevitable.

"Does Mummy eat nana?' She asked, looking down at the food in front of her.

"Yes." He answered. "Why?" Peter asked, wondering where she was going with her questioning.

"I give it to her?" His daughter asked, as he gave a small chuckle. It was at this point he knew Erin wouldn't give up until she had spent time with her mum.

Of course, Peter understood why she wanted to see Carla so badly. They had been inseparable from the minute that Erin was born. The pair hadn't gone a day without spending the morning in bed, having cuddles, with Carla reading her stories and making up silly songs. It was a side to his wife he never thought he'd get to see; one that he, and many others, initially doubted was even there at all - but it certainly was.

"If I go and see if Mummy's awake, will you eat your breakfast?" He asked, hoping that striking a deal with his youngest would encourage her to behave. Besides, if Carla wasn't up to it, he could always tell the three year old that she was still asleep.

Erin nodded eagerly, wanting nothing more than a cuddle with her mother.

She followed her father, blanket in hand, up the stairs and through the landing that lead to her parents bedroom.

Peter knocked softly on the door, before letting himself in. He stood by the door, and closed it slightly so that his daughter would wait outside.

"Are you alright, love?" Peter asked.

"Yeah." She smiled, tiredly.

"Mummy?" Erin called from behind the ajar door.

"Oh Peter, she doesn't have to stay away." Carla sighed. Although his heart was in the right place, the last thing she wanted was for Erin to guess there was something wrong.

"Come on then." Peter invited the little girl into her parents bedroom. Pushing the door open, she climbed up onto the bed, and crawled towards her mother. Carla held her arms open so that the toddler could cuddle into her.

As her daughter snuggled close to her chest, Carla felt tears in her eyes once more.

"Are you not well?" Erin asked, not moving from where she was, enjoying being in her mother's arms.

"I'm alright now I've seen you, baby girl." She told her, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Story?" The child requested, shifting to face her mother, as Carla smiled softly.

In the midst of her grief, she was still unable to say no to the child, and soon enough Erin was off to pick a book from the vast collection in her room, leaving her parents alone to talk for a minute.

"How are you feeling?" Peter asked, perching on the bed next to his wife. He noted how tired she looked; how drained. She'd obviously cried more since he got out of bed this morning. Her eyes were red raw.

"A bit sore." She told him honestly.

"Do you want some painkillers?" He offered, getting ready to jump up at a moments notice.

"I'll be fine." Carla replied, smiling weakly.

"Are you sure?" Peter asked, surveying the way his wife was sitting up in the bed. She was hunched, and clearly in a level of pain. He just wanted to help her.

"Stop fussing." She told him. Her voice was gentle. If she'd have had the energy, she would have snapped, but she didn't. He would have done anything to take this pain away from her, both the physical effects and the mental suffering she was enduring.

The couple slipped into a mournful silence. Peter took a hold of Carla's hand, squeezing it reassuringly. They'd get through this, just like every other bombshell that had come before this.

"I'm sorry." Carla announced, turning to face her husband.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for." He reminded her, shaking his head softly at her apology and shifting onto the bed properly, so he was sitting next to her and could comfort her more.

He knew that she would be blaming herself and it was the last thing that he wanted her to do. As much as it pained him to think it: it was so cruel, so unfair, but it was just one of those things. It just happened. It certainly wasn't Carla's fault.

"I know how much you wanted another baby." She revealed, as she tried to justify her apology.

"We have Si. I know it's not the same, because he's older... and Erin is more than enough." He told her, smiling softly. Among the heartache the couple were undoubtedly facing, he was more even more grateful for his children.

"I just don't want her to be lonely." She revealed, her voice cracking, as Peter carefully pulled her into him. He allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her back, coming to rest on her waist.

"She won't be." He assured her softy.

"As much as I fought with Rob, growing up, I don't know what I would have done without him." She reflected, sighing sadly and trying her best not to break down in front of him again. Now was not the time, she thought. Erin would be back any second with a book in hand. Peter pushed the lump at the back of his throat down, concentrating solely on Carla.

"Speaking of brothers..." Carla digressed. "Have you told Si?" She asked. Telling Simon was something that has happened only recently, but within two weeks of being told that he was set to be a big brother again, he was now to be told that he wasn't. Carla felt useless. She felt as if she'd let everyone down. Her body had failed to do what it needed.

"Not yet. But I will do." He replied. He didn't know what he would say to his oldest, but he was sure it would come to him when he finally got round to telling his son the devastating news. Right now, Carla was his priority.

"I love you." Peter reminded his wife.

"I love you too." She replied, clear exhaustion in her voice.

He planted a long soft kiss in her hair. "We'll get through this." He added, as their daughter burst into the room, waving two brightly illustrated books making the parents change their solemn tones into slightly happier ones, keeping up appearances.

Peter watched his wife read to his daughter. She did all the voices, and explored the pictures on each page with the tot, getting themselves both lost in the story. He was in awe of how strong she was being. Although, years of putting on a front would have surely given her enough practice.

As both stories had been completed, Erin climbed under the duvet between her parents, snuggling into her mother. He watched as Carla gave into the tiredness she felt, and slowly she drifted off to sleep. Her daughter was still firmly attached to her side, as she watched some children's channel on the TV.

It would take a while, but the darkest of days would soon be over and they'd eventually adapt and deal with their grief a lot better. He was right, they would get through this. He was determined to.

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