Sky couldn't take her eyes off the black laptop on her dresser. Sitting there in the middle of her things - her eye-shadow palettes, a pile of pink scrunchies, a unicorn-shaped hairbrush that really needed cleaning - it was like a black hole in the middle of a sunny sky, impossible to ignore. As she laid her palm over the cold, smooth surface and let her fingers trace the Cobra Kai logo on top, a shudder went through her spine. She had to fight the growing urge to flip the lid open and try to get in—

She pulled her hand back and let out a tense breath.

No. I have to wait for the girls. We agreed to do this together.

Besides, she didn't know the password. Devon did. She had managed to get it from her cousin Calvin, who had helped Kyler with some computer issues a couple of weeks ago, which was fucking brilliant because without the password the laptop would be useless.

The tension growing in her veins, Sky glanced at the clock on the wall. The girls should be here soon, but the wait was unbearable— Every second they wasted, increased the chance of failure. She could only hope that Kyler had been stupid enough to keep the evidence of his crimes on the computer's hardware instead of storing them in the cloud.

The thought of Kyler searching for his backpack, and finding all his stuff scattered on the street, was satisfying as fuck. But it was also a problem. Sky knew that as soon as that asshole realized his laptop was gone, it was only a matter of time that he deleted everything he had stored online, so the hardware was their only hope.

But Sky wasn't that nervous, not really. Something told her, the laptop would be the jackpot. Maybe it was delusional, but she had the feeling that things were going exactly as they were supposed to go, like this was all part of a bigger plan, that she was just following the steps someone else had laid out in front of her. Maybe it was the angel on her shoulder, she thought, glancing at Kat's photo she kept attached to the mirror. She could almost feel Kat in the room, standing next to her, her scent of cinnamon and coffee in the air. Kat would have been Hell of a proud of her, and that thought made Sky's chest swell. With Kat on her side, she felt victorious, ruthless like a badass queen who was riding to battle with God's grace shining on her blade. She could do no wrong. She was an archangel, and Kyler was the dragon she would slay, with her almighty powers. Kyler's doom was within that laptop, and the only thing she had to do, was to dig it out.

"You're getting what's coming for you, asshole," Sky snarled, turning her eyes back to the laptop. Her words were sharp like daggers on her tongue. "I'm gonna fucking see you burn—"

That sentence was cut in half by a sharp knock on the door. Sky's heart jumped to her throat as she swirled around.

"Sky, are you there?" Came Dad's concerned voice through the door. Sky saw the handle turning as he tried it, but thank fuck she had locked the door— She didn't even want to think about what would have happened if Dad had seen the laptop.

"Yeah—" Sky cleared her throat. "Just a second."

"Open the door. Why is it even locked?"

Quickly Sky shoved the laptop into the drawer of her dresser and hid it under some panties and bras. She knew she had to come up with a better hiding place for it, but that would have to wait. Of course, she could give it to Sam later, or Yasmine, for safekeeping, but that thought felt wrong. Sky was clinging to the laptop as if it was the One Ring and she was a hobbit on an adventure. It was hers now. All hers. And she didn't want to give it up.

"Sorry, I was going to change," Sky replied smoothly, as she opened the door. She was wearing a pair of comfortable leggings and an oversized black hoodie - one of Kat's - and it was true she had intended to change into something a bit more presentable before the girls got here. Not that that was the reason for the locked door, but still - it was always good to plant a truth inside a lie to make it more believable.

Dad stepped into the room and glanced around, looking a bit suspicious.

"Alright. Just don't make a habit of locking it. You know the rules."

"I know," Sky replied. "You don't have to keep reminding me."

"Well apparently I do. This isn't the first time it's been locked in these past couple of weeks—"

"I said I was sorry," Sky snapped. "Won't happen again."

That was a lie, of course, one of many that she had told Dad lately.

After her suicide attempt and her drug use, they'd had a strict no-locked-doors policy in this house - which, obviously, only applied to Sky. Dad was still free to lock himself in his room, or in any other room he fancied, as long as Sky's door was always safely unlocked so that Dad could burst in and save her life at any moment of the day.

But it wasn't just to save her miserable ass in case she tried to kill herself again.

Sky knew that Dad also let himself into her room when she wasn't there, to search for drugs, and who knew what. It made her feel like crap— that he still didn't trust her, that he still thought she was going to relapse, even after what had happened to Luke, to Cody. As if she hadn't learned her lesson.

But trust was a funny thing - so easily broken, so damn difficult to rebuild when it was gone. The lack of it went both ways. Sky didn't trust Dad anymore either.

What had happened after Kyler had attacked her in the tattoo parlor, was like a maggot eating at her heart, filling it with disgusting, rotting holes. She couldn't forgive Dad for so easily moving on, for so easily accepting that Kyler wasn't going to get punished for what he had done. If Dad truly loved her, he would have tried harder to help her. He would have gone to Kyler's house and ripped Kyler apart, right? Right? Because isn't that what you do when you love someone? You fucking protect them. But what had Dad done about Kyler? Nothing. He had just forced Sky to talk to that useless piece of a shit detective, who hadn't done anything to protect her either.

That thought still hurt like a dagger to the gut. Sky had fucking known the police wouldn't believe her, and Dad had pushed her into talking to them anyways, telling her it was the right thing to do—

Right thing my ass.

It was easy for Dad to say. He was a highly educated, wealthy, white, middle-aged man. Sky was pretty sure that never in his life had Dad been in a situation where he couldn't trust the police to believe him. Of course, he couldn't imagine what it was like for a girl - and not just a girl but a drug addict too, and the ex-girlfriend of a dealer who had shot himself in the head.

In the eyes of law enforcement, Sky was the least credible witness in the history of mankind, and Dad should have realized that.

He should have believed her.

He should have protected her, not just from Kyler, but from the police too.

The anger that was always present inside of Sky's gut, bubbled up to the surface as Dad walked further into the room, his observant glance sweeping the surface of her dresser, the tied-back curtains of her four poster bed, the pile of clothes on the chairs, on the floor - as if he was expecting to see pill bottles and needles scattered around the room.

"Why are you here?" she asked, leaning her back on the wall and crossing her arms over her chest. "What do you want?"

The tone of her voice made Dad stop and turn around. He hesitated for a short moment, ran a hand through his blond hair, making the tips of the golden strands fall to his forehead, over his glasses, and an emotion Sky couldn't quite name, made her chest tighten.

Before, she would have joked something about Dad's overgrown hair and told him to get a haircut, and he would have laughed, but now—

His eyes were sad, his posture tense, and suddenly Sky couldn't even remember when was the last time she had heard him laugh.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, his voice almost gentle. "Is the headache any better? Do you need some Tylenol?"

"The headache—?" Sky frowned— before remembering that it had been her excuse to leave the school early. Her cheeks heated and she swallowed, hoping that Dad wouldn't notice. "I mean, yeah— I guess. It's okay."

"You've had a lot of headaches lately. I've been worried."

Sky shrugged, turning her eyes down. "It's not that bad. I'm fine."

Dad shifted on his feet and cleared his throat as if hesitating. The silence stretched long between them, an endless ocean of time, too hard to cross— Not that she wanted to even try. She wanted him to leave, she wanted him gone. Wanted him to stop asking these pointless questions that just made her feel like crap.

"Look, Sky—" he said, walking closer, and leaning on the wall next to her. His familiar scent of cotton and old books filled Sky's senses, the scent of home, the one she had always thought would keep her safe no matter what happened. "I wanted to talk to you about— about how things have been lately. About how you've been doing."

"What about it?

Sky's grip on her arms grew tighter. She kept her eyes on the opposite wall. She would not let Dad see her hurt, her anger. There was no point, there was nothing he could do or say to help her.

"I know things have been hard. This year— it's been one disaster after another. And this latest one— I know you're struggling. I can hear you up at night, not sleeping, and I worry. You haven't been yourself lately."

"Oh, I'm fine," Sky interrupted his sentence, her words sharp and edgy. "Just peachy. Nothing's wrong with me."

Dad let out a tense sigh. "You're not. Not okay, nor peachy, nor any other word you might want to use. You can keep telling me that, but I know you. I know you're not okay. And I understand why you are upset. It's just— that I wish you'd talk to me."

"Oh, and what do you want me to talk about?"

Sky turned to look at him, meeting his eyes that were so much like her own, their shape and their color almost identical to hers. But Dad's eyes were filled with emotion, whereas Sky knew that hers were like mirrors. She didn't let him see what dwelled under the surface, the deep, dark currents of her pain, her guilt, her anger.

"About anything," Dad sighed, sounding almost desperate. "And everything, like you used to. You know what I mean, even if you pretend not to. I know you're going through a lot. I know that what happened must be weighing on you, and I just want you to know that I am here. I just want to help you, Sky, but I can't do that if you keep pushing me away."

His words twisted Sky's gut, bringing a bad taste to her lips.

Would Dad really want her to talk about it, though?

About what Kyler had done to her? About his disgusting fingers trying to push into her panties, about his hot, ragged breath on her face, about the look in his eyes, the wanting to hurt her, to cause her pain, to humiliate and degrade her and rip her apart?

Sky had told Dad about what Matt had done to her, and Dad had cried, he had been devastated, he had gotten her more help, but—

But they had never talked about it again.

So no, Sky didn't believe that Dad really wanted to hear what was in her mind. And who could blame him? Sky wouldn't have wanted to think about those things either, but for her it wasn't a matter of choice. Kyler lived in her head, and she knew that the only way to get him out of there, was to fucking ruin him so completely that he would never, ever dare to come near her again.

She doubted that Dad wanted to hear about that either.

"I'm not pushing anyone away," Sky blinked, her expression and her posture the picture of ignorance and indifference. "I'm going to therapy. I'm going to the grief group. Isn't that enough? What more do you want from me?"

"It's not what I want from you, Sky—" Dad hesitated, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans. "I'm just worried. You used to talk to me about things."

Sky looked away. There was suddenly a lump in her throat, one that wouldn't move no matter how hard she swallowed.

"Yeah well, things change."

"I know. I know. It's just—" Dad's soft, gentle tone was killing Sky, it felt like someone was peeling off her skin, cutting open her bones. Why couldn't he just go? Why couldn't he just give up? She didn't want him here, didn't want his pity, his concern, his well-meant questions. "Maybe we could spend time together today, if your headache is better. We could watch a movie, order a pizza— get a tub of Ben & Jerry's, Cherry Garcia if you'd like. Just like the old times. What do you say?"

"Sorry, can't. I have plans," Sky shrugged, something painful twisting and turning in her chest. She hated Dad's suggestion, but hated herself even more for wanting so desperately to say yes. So fucking stupid. Did Dad really think that a Star Trek movie, some ice cream, and hot chocolate would fix what was broken between them?

Did he really think things could just go back to the way they had been?

She wasn't a child anymore. He couldn't fix her problems with movie nights, take away pizza, or giant mugs of hot chocolate with marshmallows. The monsters were real, and Sky knew Dad couldn't keep her safe, no matter how much he wanted to. So what was the point? In the end, she was alone against the world, no prince charming would ride into the battle in her place, and she would have to slay the dragon with her own bleeding hands if she wanted to survive.

"Oh. What plans?" Dad asked, oblivious to the dark trail of her thoughts. "Are your friends coming over again?"

"Yeah."

"Sam, Devon, and Yasmine?"

"Yup."

Sky kept her answers as short as possible, but Dad didn't take the hint. "That's… good. That's great, actually. I'm glad you have such good friends. They all seem like nice girls, and they are always welcome here, you know that. So— what plans do you have? Do you want me to order you some pizza?"

"I don't know," Sky muttered, reluctant to tell Dad anything about what she was doing with the girls. "We have some school stuff to do."

The knot in her stomach grew tighter, making her nauseous. School stuff. Right. Lying hurt, but there was no way in Hell she could ever tell Dad the truth about why the girls were coming over.

That was the whole fucking point of secret societies - that they were a secret. But Sky hadn't known that secrets were this painful to carry, like blades cutting her soul from the inside.

She had always been super close with Dad— It had always been just the two of them, her whole life. He was her home, her rock, her everything— but now it felt like she was talking to a complete stranger. Somewhere along the road, she had lost him, and from here on, they would only grow further apart, until one day she would be nothing to him but a distant memory, an awkward phone call once a year.

That thought was a dagger to her heart, painful beyond belief. Sky had to swallow to keep the bile down.

God— how much she missed him.

She missed their effortless connection, his unwavering support, his love that had never faltered. She wanted things back the way they had been, when she had known without a doubt that Dad was in her corner, whatever happened. That he trusted her. That he protected her. But now—

It was too late. She swallowed, and turned her eyes down.

Some small part of her knew very well that she was being unreasonable. What had happened to her wasn't Dad's fault. He had done his best to be there for her, to help her. Sky knew that if Dad had been at the tattoo parlor, he would have fucking strangled Kyler to death for laying his hands on her, but—

But it didn't matter. Dad hadn't been there. She had gotten hurt, and now he was expecting her to watch Star Trek and eat ice cream with him like nothing had happened, when all Sky wanted to see was Kyler's intestines on a stick.

Her chest ached. The mean, twisted words she wanted to throw at Dad's face were already on the tip of her tongue, but the sound of the doorbell cut through them before she could let them out.

"Sky— wait," Dad started, but she had already bounced off the wall, was on her way to the door.

"It's the girls, I gotta go," she snapped, and brushed past Dad into the hall not even looking back.

She didn't have time for this shit. She had a fucking war to win.