12. And I just can't look/ It's killing me/And taking control/Jealousy/Turning saints into the sea/Turning through sick lullaby/Choking on your alibi/But it's just the price I pay/Destiny is calling me/Open up my eager eyes/'cause I'm Mr. Brightside

Emily reappeared about a half hour later, her headphones on, music banging from them. She crossed the living room floor and pulled open the fridge door in search of some food, or anything that resembled it. Her mum didn't really have time to do the shopping these days.

"Do you want something to eat?" Bosco asked her back. She couldn't hear him, merely humming along to the tune playing over the speakers. He pulled one out from her ear and repeated the question. She looked startled jumping forward, sending the fridge door crashing shut. He grinned like an evil big brother.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she snapped, "You could've given me a heart attack!" She placed her hand over her chest and breathed over-dramatically.

"You're more like your mother than you'll ever know Emily Yokas," he informed her. She rolled her eyes, sliding her earphones around her neck. "Now would you like me to order out something?"

"Nah, I'm just a bit peckish," she explained tugging on the sleeves of her blue pyjama top. "I get that way before I go to bed."

"I know, when you were a kid you had to stay over my flat one night, your Mum and Fred had this whole dinner planned and Charlie was with his uncle and you were meant to be staying at a friends who had an emergency last minute," he said, "And you ate me outta house and home. I had nothing left after you'd gone!"

She giggled despite herself. "I remember that night, I was so excited 'cause I was getting to stay at my uncle Bosco's."

He shook his head, smiling as he turned for the sofa, flopping down on it. She sat on the chair opposite, her feet tucked in under her slight body. "You were really good to me although you'd never admit it. You suffered hours upon hours of Disney movies."

"The Lion King being my favourite," he chimed in. "And look how different you are now. Drugs, sex, rock and roll…"

"Bosco!" she cried, a blush rising on her cheeks. He held up his hands.

"Hey! I'm meant to be the 'cool uncle Bosco'. I can say words like sex and boys and drugs around you and you shouldn't get embarrassed! That's the deal! I don't wanna be a big prude!"

She laughed into her hands, hiding her red face. "Shut up!" she yelled covering her ears.

"What's it worth?" he asked, grinning.

"Me not kicking your ass," she replied, raising her eyebrows.

"No, sorry no deal," he said, still smiling, "I dunno maybe I should put on some NC-17 movies for ya…how does Terminator – the rise of his machine sound?"

She looked at him, faking nonchalance, "I've already seen that one."

"W-what?" he spluttered.

"Bosco! I'm kidding!" she chuckled throwing a pillow in his direction. A wave of relief washed over him and he let out a long sigh.

"Oh thank God."

They both fell quite, Emily picking at a nail, Bosco staring at the television screen.

"Bosco…" she started.

"Yup?"

"When I walked in the living room earlier…and you and Mum…"

He looked towards her, her eyes still firmly fixed on her nails. "You…uh…why did you seem a bit jealous when Gerard came?"

"I wasn't," he choked out, sprawling his arms out on the back of the sofa. She gave him that patented 'Don't-Lie-To-Me-I'm-A-Teenager-Who-Sees-Everything' look and he smiled. She really was growing up. "I wasn't," he repeated. She nodded, slowly and deliberately.

"You just seemed a bit off…" she trailed off, biting on the soft skin of her inner lip. Pausing she took a breath before venturing the question both were dreading. "Do you love her?"

He was shocked by her audacity and sat up straight, his face etched with varied emotion. He struggled to find words, any words.

She smirked at him, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Well I mean obviously you love her right? You've known her for twelve years. There has to be some level of respect and perhaps love there."

Oh, platonic love. That he could work with. "Oh…yeah…I suppose…you've been watching way too much Oprah," he laughed.

"Why? What'd you think I meant?" she questioned sitting forward. He shook his head, shrugging.

"Huh?" he said, in a deliberate attempt to confuse her. But she would not be thrown and he was beginning to believe he was sitting with the devil herself.

"You said 'oh' as if you were relieved…so what did you think I meant?"

"Nothing," he replied. She nodded, pursing her lips together.

"So…this Gerard…you like him?"

He shrugged. "He's alright."

"Alright as in one date alright? Or alright as in this might actually be going somewhere alright?" she questioned, her legs now on the ground. She sat resting her chin in her hands, cupping her face. He couldn't avoid her eyes and shifted uncomfortably. This definitely wasn't the kind of thing he was expecting…

"I dunno…and I don't think your mother would appreciate us having this conversation," he told her, flicking the channel. He tried desperately to concentrate on the screen, but with her little mouth going a mile a minute he was finding it hard.

"Are you jealous of him?"

"Emily…"

"Well I mean you've been the only man in Mum's life for about two years now…the thought of losing that…it would make anyone jealous. After all she is your 'best friend'."

"Emily I'm really not comfortable with-"

"Or have you moved on with Erin?"

The question caught him off guard, and his breath caught in his throat, a dry lump forming. He shook his head, blinking furiously. "How…"

"Mothers and daughters talk," she explained leaning back in the armchair.

"Emily. I don't know what you're trying to get at, but whatever it is you're wrong ok?"

She squinted at him, her brow furrowing. He glared back at her, warning her to back off. She did, albeit reluctantly, turning her head to the television screen.

"Coward…" she muttered under her breath. He rolled his eyes.

"What?"

"You heard me," she retorted quietly.

"Em-"

"No Bosco! Just stop ok? When I walked in here earlier I saw it! And the sad thing is you didn't! What is wrong with you? Are you really that stupid?" she gasped, exasperated. She ran her fingers through her brown hair, pulling on the roots.

"I've heard enough," he hissed, almost in a father like way. "This is the end of this discussion. Do you hear me?"

She let out a sigh, shaking her head. "Don't try to dismiss me! I may be young but I'm not blind! Why does everyone treat me like I'm five years old?"

"Maybe it's 'cause you act that way," he barked, immediately regretting the words as they tripped off his tongue. She stared back at him, obviously frustrated. "Go to your room."

"You're not my father."

He didn't know why but the words stung. He fought the urge to say thank God, knowing that it would only be a deliberate attempt to hurt her. "Go to your room Emily. I won't tell you again."

She stood up, sighing over-dramatically. Stalking off she stopped suddenly turning back to him. Pressing her lips together, it took a while before she finally spoke.

"I'm not saying this just to cause trouble," she said softly, "Trust me I've caused enough for a lifetime. I just can't understand why you're both so blind. I see the way you look at her. And I know I'm young and you probably think I wouldn't understand but how many people are willing to die for each other?"

He looked up at her, suddenly feeling rather regretful for being so harsh…for being such a dad. "Emily…it's our job. You're mother was my partner. It goes the same for everyone else."

"Maybe. Still doesn't explain why your jealous though does it?"

He stared at her, unable to respond. Unable to lie. She nodded, biting down on her lower lip. "G'night Bosco."

She disappeared down the hall and Bosco sat staring at the wall in front of him. Her words, the words of a seventeen year old, had more of an effect on him than any other words spoken by anyone else. But she was wrong. He had been fighting off these type of accusations about his and Faith's relationship for years. It was normal. And it was easier to let people think what they like than to fight them. So he'd let Emily think she was right – it would save a lot of heartache.

Moving, he heard the crunch of paper in his pocket and he dug into it pulling out the article from earlier. He gazed at it for several moments and scrunched it up throwing it in the general direction of the bin. He wasn't about to let anything change. He wasn't jealous, Emily was wrong. He was simply protective and cared for his former partner.

He just wanted for the sinking feeling in his heart to go away.