[It hurts more than she thought it would when he disappears again.
It's an old pain by now, a loss of both of her parents to their own lives and "important matters". She pretends it doesn't get to her, that both of them have things that supersede her so completely that she can be so easily forgotten. An old memory of her father's workshop doors closing behind him as her mother carries her out, the literally hundreds of times she's heard the voicemail beep of her mother's phone in the last seven years without ever being answered once. So many lonely years spent with her only contact being every few months when her Dad needed her to do something.
It's not... she had to believe that it doesn't matter, that their work really was important. After all, she had the hotel, didn't she? She knew how encompassing a vision could be, so... so if she was patient, both of them would come back to her in time, she would be remembered again.
And then, against the odds, it happened. Her Dad came back to her, his smile full of affection and his eyes soft. She got to feel the warmth of a parent's arms around her again. She didn't even blame him when he went back to the palace after their initial meeting, he had promised to support her dreams and she trusted that. A trust that was upheld when he saved her, when he caught her. Her heart had been full to overflowing when he agreed to stay, and all former hurt was forgotten (or, at least, pushed away).
Then the absences started again.
He was there, in her hotel, but he wasn't there. Not really. He would disappear for a few days at a time, covered in a shroud of malaise and anxiety that she had no idea what to do about. Any gentle questioning about what was bothering him always ended in a deflection. Perhaps he was trying to protect her from whatever this was, or maybe he didn't think a father should lean on a daughter, but-- she ached for him to let her in and trust her to help carry the burden. She was always there to offer, to greet him back with a bright smile and cheery welcome when he reappeared, and she would pretend that every time he isolated himself that it didn't send the fear of abandonment skittering across her soul.
It was like her worst fears had been confirmed when this absence stretched from days to weeks. Even worse when Alastor casually mentioned he had spoken to Lucifer and confirmed that he was busy. His Dad would talk to Alastor, someone he seemingly hated, but not Charlie herself? And then the little barbs kept coming, just innocent enough for her to not quite pick up on them being deliberate or malicious. Mentions of the burdens Charlie placed on Lucifer by expecting his help, sly digs that Charlie was only using him for his name and status, repeated assurances that he didn't want to be disturbed.
And she tries to accept that.
If he needs not to be disturbed, then... she can be strong alone again.
As one month turns to two, Charlie finds herself going to stand outside his door in the dead of night sometimes, when Vaggie was asleep and she no longer had to wear a smile and push forwards with all the hotel needs. She never knocks, never calls out, just... stands until the heavy weight of silence is too much for her and she retreats again.
It's been a little over nine weeks when Charlie has just... the worst day she's had in a long time. She has a deep healing cut across her cheek, under one eye, that Vaggie had fussed over earlier, and all she wants is for her Dad to give her a hug and tell her it'll be okay. She wants him to tell her why he isn't okay. She wants them to work through these things as a family, but apparently that isn't going to happen.
Standing outside his door again late at night, this time she finds instead of the silence wearing on her until she slinks away again, instead it winds her further and further up into a ball of frustration and hurt and anger and concern, until she's almost showing her horns. Finally it bursts forth, and she hammers on his door, voice cracking.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2024-03-17 10:22 pm (UTC)It's an old pain by now, a loss of both of her parents to their own lives and "important matters". She pretends it doesn't get to her, that both of them have things that supersede her so completely that she can be so easily forgotten. An old memory of her father's workshop doors closing behind him as her mother carries her out, the literally hundreds of times she's heard the voicemail beep of her mother's phone in the last seven years without ever being answered once. So many lonely years spent with her only contact being every few months when her Dad needed her to do something.
It's not... she had to believe that it doesn't matter, that their work really was important. After all, she had the hotel, didn't she? She knew how encompassing a vision could be, so... so if she was patient, both of them would come back to her in time, she would be remembered again.
And then, against the odds, it happened. Her Dad came back to her, his smile full of affection and his eyes soft. She got to feel the warmth of a parent's arms around her again. She didn't even blame him when he went back to the palace after their initial meeting, he had promised to support her dreams and she trusted that. A trust that was upheld when he saved her, when he caught her. Her heart had been full to overflowing when he agreed to stay, and all former hurt was forgotten (or, at least, pushed away).
Then the absences started again.
He was there, in her hotel, but he wasn't there. Not really. He would disappear for a few days at a time, covered in a shroud of malaise and anxiety that she had no idea what to do about. Any gentle questioning about what was bothering him always ended in a deflection. Perhaps he was trying to protect her from whatever this was, or maybe he didn't think a father should lean on a daughter, but-- she ached for him to let her in and trust her to help carry the burden. She was always there to offer, to greet him back with a bright smile and cheery welcome when he reappeared, and she would pretend that every time he isolated himself that it didn't send the fear of abandonment skittering across her soul.
It was like her worst fears had been confirmed when this absence stretched from days to weeks. Even worse when Alastor casually mentioned he had spoken to Lucifer and confirmed that he was busy. His Dad would talk to Alastor, someone he seemingly hated, but not Charlie herself? And then the little barbs kept coming, just innocent enough for her to not quite pick up on them being deliberate or malicious. Mentions of the burdens Charlie placed on Lucifer by expecting his help, sly digs that Charlie was only using him for his name and status, repeated assurances that he didn't want to be disturbed.
And she tries to accept that.
If he needs not to be disturbed, then... she can be strong alone again.
As one month turns to two, Charlie finds herself going to stand outside his door in the dead of night sometimes, when Vaggie was asleep and she no longer had to wear a smile and push forwards with all the hotel needs. She never knocks, never calls out, just... stands until the heavy weight of silence is too much for her and she retreats again.
It's been a little over nine weeks when Charlie has just... the worst day she's had in a long time. She has a deep healing cut across her cheek, under one eye, that Vaggie had fussed over earlier, and all she wants is for her Dad to give her a hug and tell her it'll be okay. She wants him to tell her why he isn't okay. She wants them to work through these things as a family, but apparently that isn't going to happen.
Standing outside his door again late at night, this time she finds instead of the silence wearing on her until she slinks away again, instead it winds her further and further up into a ball of frustration and hurt and anger and concern, until she's almost showing her horns. Finally it bursts forth, and she hammers on his door, voice cracking.]
Dad! Why won't you talk to me?!