Disclaimer: I own neither Enterprise or its characters.

Author's note: BTW: anyone who wonders about a girl named Charley… that's my cousin's name too, and her dad is a Charles. Thanks again to my betas.

Chapter 3: Troubled Waters

I stare down at the water, concentrating. I shouldn't be here – not on my own. This isn't safe. But I need something… I'm tired of being the one to compromise. Here, there is no compromise. Here, it's only me. I focus on pushing all thoughts out of my mind until there is only me and the water. I ignore everything else: the danger, the risk… I ignore it all. I don't even hear the door open and close, barely register the echoes of hard shoes on concrete bouncing off these massive walls. But even focus cannot keep out the yells.

"Ivy. You come down from there, right now!" Daddy's angry, but I try to block him out.

"Charley Elizabeth!" When he starts using my legal name, it means he's getting very mad. I decide to do what he says.

I descend, absorbed in every twist and spin, slicing into the water, though not as perfectly as I would have liked. The entries are always the hardest – I always kick up a bit of a splash.

I surface in front of Daddy's feet, but ignore the hand that reaches down to me. Instead, I wait for him to back up before hoisting myself out of the pool.

"What the hell is your problem?" He drops my towel over my head, indicating that he wants me to hurry up. He's got my bag in his hand and my clothes tucked under his arm, obviously he doesn't even want to give me a chance to change. "Are you having trouble with basic English?"

I glare at him, but say nothing. I've got nothing to say.

"And do you have any idea how stupid that was?" He gestures over at the tower. "Basic safety says that you've got someone here in case of an emergency. What if you'd fallen? Not to mention the fact that you broke in here… do you know how hard it's going to be to convince the school not to press charges?"

I don't care. "Maybe you shouldn't then. Maybe you should just let me go to jail. Then I'll be off your hands and you can decorate my room any damn way you want. And then Lorien can stay in there forever, and you can have your perfect son!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Daddy doesn't wait for an answer, just hustles me outside and into his car. Only when we're on the road does he continue. "Ivy, what is going on with you? I ask for a few simple things, and all you can do is start acting like you're three years old. As for… that, I don't even want to think about it. You are absolutely unreal."

I stare out the window, trying not to react. I've been dreading those words, and now he's said them. When we get home, I'm out of the car before he even has it fully stopped. Mother and Lorien are in the kitchen with Jon, but I keep going past them. Daddy doesn't bother to follow me. I hear him throw his keys on the counter-top and start complaining.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with her. Her only comment…" His voice fades away the farther I get up the stairs. I don't want to deal with any of them.

I hear my door open behind me, and Jon crosses the floor to look in my studio and bathroom. I know it's him from the sound of his footsteps and his breathing. Everybody's got a different style of breathing, and from the sound of Jon's, he's trying not to lose his temper. Failing to find me in the other rooms, he checks my closet, but I'm not there, either.

"Ivy, I know you're in here." He speaks directly to the wall. "We need to have a talk."

No we don't. The nice thing about being mute is that it's easier to stay out of a conversation – especially when the other person isn't looking at you. I watch him from my perch up in the rafters. He doesn't even bother to look for me anymore.

"I thought we covered this a long time ago. You can't deal with every disagreement by running away. And I know that's what you were doing."

Maybe not, but I know when I'm not wanted. Daddy couldn't even be bothered to come up here. He's still down there talking to Mother and Lorien. I know now – if he'd had a choice, he would have taken Lorien with him when he left, not me. I didn't give him a choice; I made him take me with him.

"I know your Dad seems mad, but you know as well as I do that he gets that way when he's scared. Taking off like that? You know something like that's going to set him off. He worries about you. And breaking into the school was stupid, and diving on your own was reckless. And I know your Dad probably did similar things when he was your age, but that's why it scares him so much. He just doesn't want anything to happen to you."

I wish I could believe that, but Jon wasn't there. He wasn't there earlier, and he wasn't there back on Vulcan, either. He didn't have to deal with the teachers who wondered why I couldn't be more like my brother. He wasn't there when Mother and Daddy asked the same questions. Now that Daddy has a chance to get Lorien back… I'm good with pictures, so I know when I don't fit into one. Daddy wasn't scared, he was just plain mad.

Besides, I know the truth: I'm not supposed to exist at all. Back when the attic was just storage area, I used to spend a lot of time up here, time on my own. I found some of Jon's old journals – 'Personal Logs' in Starfleet speech, but journals nonetheless – and I discovered that Lorien is special. Not only is Lorien 'supposed to be' but he saved everybody by sacrificing himself. I – on the other hand – was non-existent. Or as Daddy said: unreal.

I don't dare breathe. He'd hear me, as the air fought its way through my clogged up nose. It's bad enough that I'm crying. I don't need Jon to see that, or for Mother and Lorien to find out. They'd all tell me I was being stupid or overemotional – the only people who understand what it's like are Uncle Malcolm and Auntie Nic. I asked them about it, because I couldn't ask Jon or Daddy. But they know what it's like to disappear – to become a part of the background until you're not there at all. That's why Auntie Nic acts so crazy, and Uncle Malcolm sometimes works so hard to be perfect. They understand that sometimes you have to force reality to notice you, or you might as well not be there.

Finally, Jon walks away, and I'm alone again. There's a long while before anyone else comes in, and it's Lorien. He doesn't even bother to look around, just goes straight into the studio and goes to bed.

I don't move, even when morning comes. Lorien gets up, uses the bathroom and then leaves. I've got a familiar pain in my stomach now. It's not hunger: if I eat, I'll throw up. Pretty soon my head's going to hurt, and I won't be able to see straight. It's like I'm a foreign object to the universe, and its immune system is attacking me. It's useless to fight, and this time I don't want to. Time passes, the sun gets higher, but I stay.

Lorien must have left the window open in the studio, because I hear voices outside. It's the rest of them, and from the conversation, it sounds like they're going to a baseball game. Which is all the proof I need, because Daddy never takes me to those. Not that I'd want to go – I'd rather spend time at the beach, or at the pool. I've never understood the thrill of watching sports when you could take part in them instead. But what I want isn't the point, which in a strange way is. It's more proof that I don't matter.

Matter. From a physics point of view, matter means substance. If something is matter, it is real. Real estate, real assets, realia… they all refer to things of a material nature. Matter. Thus, I'm not real. Though if I'm not real, then this existence is nothing to me.

I tune them out, reducing them to a background blur. Then the doors on the car slam, and I hear it pull away.

"Ivy." I hear Daddy's voice from the doorway, and it doesn't make sense. He's gone, so how can he be here? I open my eyes to see him looking straight at me. "Come down here, right now."

I look away and close my eyes again. It hurts too much to keep them open.

"Come. Down. Now." Each word is its own sentence, he's being very careful with what he says.

I won't, I can't, and he doesn't really want me to anyway.

"Ivy, what is going on with you?" He sounds irritated, as though my simply being here is something he could do without.

I shrug, but otherwise say nothing.

"No. Don't give me that. Don't tell me that you don't know, or you don't care, or that you don't think that there's a problem. Now come down here and talk to me. Please."

I shake my head. I already know what he'll say. He'll deny the truth, and he'll ask where I come up with these ideas. Except they're not ideas, I've seen the words with my own eyes. "Go to your game, Daddy."

"No. I told them we'd meet them there, but not until you and I talk about this. And I want you down here." Daddy's afraid of heights, just like he is of spiders. He hates it when I come up here, and he uses that fear as his pretext for not coming to a lot of my diving competitions. He says he's afraid something's going to happen to me, but it's just an excuse. I don't move though – once again, it's simply about what he wants, and I'm not supposed to have an opinion.

He closes his eyes, looking like he's going to be sick. "Ivy. Please." He squeezes the bridge of his nose, like he does when he's frustrated.

I drop to the floor, not bothering to climb down. He wants me down, fine… I'm down. I still don't look at him, though.

"Thank you. Now can you tell me why we can't even get through one day…"

I clamp my hands over my ears. I am not going to listen to this. And I close my eyes, so he can't talk to me that way, either.

"Ivy." He pulls my hands away, and looks me in the eye when I open them to glare at him. "Don't do this. Don't pretend that you didn't spend all yesterday trying to get my attention. Fine. You've got it. Now you can tell me why you want it." He lets my hands go, so I can respond.

I shrug again.

"Not good enough Ivy. Now, you haven't got Jon or anyone else here to run interference for you. And we are not leaving here until we hammer this out. Okay?"

"Why are we suddenly going to baseball games?" I know the answer. It's for Lorien.

"What?"

I twist away from him and get a small box from the top shelf of my closet. Inside is an old-style removable memory chip. I insert it into a padd and pull up the date. I know it by heart, now. I hand it to Daddy. "I know the truth. You can stop lying to me."

He reads it and swallows hard. "Where did you find this?"

"It doesn't matter. I know, Daddy. Lorien's the special one… I'm not supposed to be here."

"How the hell can you say that?" He grabs my shoulders and shakes me. "Because in one alternate timeline somewhere we didn't happen to run into you? If all that were the truth, then I'd be dead. All right? Apparently, there, I didn't survive past his twelfth birthday. That doesn't mean anything." He looks at the padd again and shakes his head. "How long have you had this?"

Long enough. Long enough that I know it verbatim. It talks about Lorien, and mentions how Daddy taught him to play catch, and throw a football, and so many other things Daddy and I have never done. I don't say anything though. I'm tired of hearing lies.

"Honey, you are definitely supposed to be here. When I found out that it was twins… I was so happy, you have no idea. The day you were born was probably the best day of my life." He walks me over to the bed, so we can sit down. He's crying, and it takes a moment before he can continue. "And then the doctors said that you might not make it… you were so tiny and fragile. They kept you in intensive care for three days, and I couldn't eat or sleep and I didn't want to leave your side. Your mother took care of Lorien – he was okay. And when they finally let me hold you, and you looked up at me… I knew I'd found the most special thing in my life. And I was scared to let anybody else touch you, even your mother." He smiles, but it's sad. "That did not help things between us. But I wanted to protect you, I didn't want anything to happen to you. Now, I've done a lot of things wrong in my life, but you are not one of them."

"But Lorien's always been…"

"Honey, I've got a lot to make up to your brother. Those first few days… I was barely aware that I even had a son. I was so worried about you. And all those fights… it terrified me when I'd see you with a bruise or a cut. And when you first started surfing and when you wanted to get into diving… I didn't want to let you. I was so afraid that you'd get hurt." I remember that. Jon had to convince him to let me try almost anything.

I turn away. It's all so messed up. It's still me… if I hadn't been sick…

"This is not your fault." Daddy pulls me into a hug, then lets me go and holds my face in his hands, so he can look at me. "I know you like to take responsibility for everything… it's the one bad habit of mine that you've picked up." He swallows again. "Hang on." He leaves and goes downstairs, but comes back carrying a small box. There's a picture and a couple of things inside. I've never seen them before.

He takes out the picture and hands it to me. It's a blonde lady and she looks somewhat familiar. Just something in the eyes and the cheekbones, but I feel I'm supposed to know her.

"That's your Aunt Elizabeth." He looks like he's trying not to cry again. "She died before you were born."

Daddy doesn't talk about his family much. I knew I'd been named after someone other than just Daddy, but I never knew who she was. She looks kind of like Daddy, and Lorien. One of the family. Not like me.

"You remind me so much of her. The way you smile, the way you hold your head sometimes," he smiles just a little. "The way you can be so grumpy in the morning when it's time for school…"

I trace a finger around the picture. She doesn't look anything like me, but according to Daddy…

"I mean, if I were the type to believe in reincarnation… you may look like your mother, but I swear sometimes that it's just a mask and you're going to take it off…" he takes a deep breath. "That's one of the reasons why I'd like to see you and Lorien getting along. Once you lose somebody, there is no going back. You can't tell them that you didn't mean the nasty things you said, or make up for the times that you took each other for granted… there is no more 'later' for you to do that in. That's why I always wanted you to go back to visit, I wasn't trying to get rid of you, or anything like that. I just don't want you to be sorry, or one day regret the fact that you didn't take the time."

I never knew any of this. I sometimes wondered why I got the family name when Lorien was the one who was born first, and the boy, and looked like Daddy. I thought it was because Mother named Lorien, and Daddy named me. I didn't know that I almost died, or that Daddy kept watch over me. I didn't know about Auntie Elizabeth.

"So don't you ever go thinking that you're not precious to me. I love you more than anything else. Okay?"

I nod, and he pulls me into another hug. When he lets me go, he digs into the box again, and pulls out a small necklace with a heart-shaped pendant on it. It looks beat up and damaged.

"It's a locket… I've got no idea how it survived, but it did. So few things made it… I gave it to her for her birthday one year." He shows me the latch on the side, and how it opens. There's words inside, engraved into the metal. To the world's best sister. Best friends, forever and for always. An L and a T bracket the words. When I ask, Daddy tells me that the 'L' means Lizzie, because that's what he used to call her. Daddy snaps the locket shut, then fastens the chain around my neck. Then he takes me by the shoulders and smiles.

"Are we okay now, punk?"

I nod. He hasn't called me that in years. My hands are shaking, so it's hard for me to talk.

"Okay. Now, come on. Let's go get some ice-cream, and then we'll join up with them at the game." His smile takes on a wry quality. "By the time we get there, it should be mostly over, and there'll be less for us to suffer through. It's one thing to play it, but sitting there watching the pitcher scratch his ass while he makes up his mind…" Daddy shudders.

"Then do you hate Lorien?" I can't resist. "Why would you make him watch that…"

Daddy laughs. "Ask your father. This great adventure was Jon's idea, not mine. Why that man is so in love with the tedious things in life, I don't know."

"Are you calling yourself 'tedious,' Daddy?" It seems like Daddy and I have been fighting so much lately, that I miss these moments where we just tease each other and decide to be ridiculous.

"I am the sole exception to that rule," he says loftily. "Well, me, and his choice in cars. Which, by the way, still does not mean that you get the sports car back. And I am still questioning what wisdom lays in letting him teach you how to drive."

"Because he knows how?" Jon's always bugging Daddy about his driving skills, even saying that Daddy was the first person ever to dent Enterprise. Daddy swats at me, but he laughs.

I grab something to work on from my desk – if Daddy finds baseball tedious, then I'm going to need something to occupy my mind – and we go. Maybe Daddy's right about Lorien and me, and maybe not but I owe it to Daddy and Auntie Elizabeth to try.