dci-daniel-hegarty
DCI Daniel_Hegarty
Detective Chief Inspector of London. Working in the boroughs of Brixton.
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Daniel, a DCI officer, had been through hell and back. After his recent recovery from a near-fatal injury, he had been determined to get back to work and fix the fractures in his personal life. But now, as he sat in his office, his mind was consumed by worry for his daughter, Ophelia.
Daniel's instinct as a detective kicked in, and he began to piece together where Ophelia might have gone. He knew her well enough to understand her tendencies, her haunts, and the places she sought solace. But this time felt different. The fear of losing her, of not being able to bring her back safely, gnawed at him.
He dispatched his team to scour the city, following any lead, no matter how faint. Every siren that pierced the night sent a shiver down his spine, a reminder of the dangers lurking in the shadows. But amidst the chaos of the search, Daniel couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of failure as a father.
As the hours stretched on, Daniel's resolve wavered. He found himself haunted by memories of happier times with Ophelia, moments he had taken for granted. Regret weighed heavy on his heart, knowing that he had let her slip away when she needed him the most.
Daniel refused to give up. With each passing moment, his determination to find Ophelia only grew stronger. He would search every corner of the city, leaving no stone unturned, until he brought her home safe and sound. For Daniel, there was no greater priority than the safety and well-being of his daughter, no matter the cost.
Finally, a decent report of her whereabouts had been found and he snatched up his eyes from his dining table and set out in his car to the home she had been staying at for a month. His heart both heavy and his mind was relieved he had found her. The only thing that worried him was the state he might be finding her in.
She had found the nearest shop and purchased herself a bottle of liquor before continuing on down the road, making sure to turn her phone off to not be disturbed for the moment as she indulged in her vice. The more distance she put between her and the hospital right now, the better. If she could just clear her head, fill it with that familiar haze that came with the drink, she’d be fine, she knew it. She had to be.
Ophelia hadn’t had a single drop in over 24 hours, a stretch for her, or rather an accomplishment, but it didn’t matter as she undid the bottle and took a long swig, letting the burn of the alcohol give her something else for her mind to focus on than her thoughts. Drown them out, that was what she was good at. Find solace in a bottle than face reality any longer.
She knew her father would likely throw a fit over this, sending out his men to find and collect her, but she also knew of places where they’d hardly look for her. A camp style gathering on the edge of town, a seedy bar that was more of a hole in the wall of an alley than a proper establishment, her boyfriend’s flat, or just wherever her feet would take her.
Every siren had Phee on edge as she walked through town, sure that his mates were out patrolling for her. They had more important things to worry about, like the guy who shot that kid in the park, than where she’d end up at. There were plenty of drunks in town who were harmless, they didn’t get tracked down like a manhunt. It was one of the downsides of being a detective’s troubled kid.
Finding a group of people near the local university who also liked to indulge as much as she did provided to be the best refuge for her right now as her guilt consumed her. If she wasn’t sober though, she couldn’t be bothered by it. Truthfully, Phee wasn’t sure how much time had passed, in and out of a haze of drinks and some drugs, but enough that she felt comfortable settling in with this group of misfits in a council flat, passing the days without a care in the world as she fought off her demons that way instead of facing them head on. It was better this way, she was sure of it. Better for everyone, especially for her father.
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Daniel watched Ophelia's departure from the hospital room with a mixture of concern and empathy. He understood the overwhelming emotions she must be experiencing, facing the fragility of her father's health and the weight of their strained relationship all at once. It was clear that she was struggling; even worse that she had been hurting in the process of being there with him.
As Ophelia squeezed her father's hand before leaving, Daniel couldn't help but admire her strength, even in moments of vulnerability. He knew that her decision to step out, to seek solace elsewhere, was a necessary act of self-preservation. Sometimes, the sterile walls of a hospital room could suffocate the soul more than they healed the body. And he also knew it would not see her again in this moment. At least for some time. A look in her eye had shown him what he already knew.
Sitting alone by the bedside, Daniel let out a sigh, his mind drifting to his own experiences of loss and longing. He understood the impulse to flee, to escape the suffocating atmosphere of impending tragedy. But he also knew the importance of facing one's demons, of confronting the pain head-on rather than running from it. Most of all he wanted to go after his daughter.
With a sense of resolve, Daniel rose from his seat and made his way out of the hospital room. He didn't know where Ophelia had gone, but he knew that she wasn't alone in her struggle. He would be there for her, whenever she was ready to return, ready to offer a listening ear and a comforting presence in her time of need. He found one of his detectives and put out a call for his daughter to be tracked but not taken in.
He asked for his phone; ignoring the call for him to settle back in his bed and asked for his phone again and dialed his daughters number. It went to voice-mail. “Lia, Please... don’t do this. I’m here for you but please don’t run away like this. I love you, Lia. I don’t want to lose you” he nearly begged, knowing that she was running away from herself more than she was him. The withdrawal of alcohol and addiction pushing her actions to flee for a drink and hurt herself again.
He hung up, dejected and still in pain as he finally allowed himself to be guided back he looked at his detective and gave him a dark glare. “Find my fucking daughter. You do not take her in -” he insisted, not wanting to scare her and detain her again. He had heard her once enough doing that. “As soon as I’m out I’ll deal with this but be my eyes for me” softened, worried for her rather than himself and hoping he would be released soon enough to find her before it was too late.
Daniel needed to save his daughter, keep her safe and help her. Whatever it took to get his daughter back and to the person she once was. No more drink, no more pain and no more hiding from his own guilt. He wanted to fight; to be with her as he should have from the very start.
“I know, I know, you are…” Part of her felt so foolish to be acting this way, to let herself be vulnerable and show emotions to her father right now when she’d been bottling them all up for the past few years, yet since he was so close to dying, part of her felt like it was justified to being a bit childlike right now.
She tried to smile back at him, but it didn’t quite work. The corners of her lips turned up slightly but it didn’t meet her eyes. Things had been so tense between them that maybe they needed something traumatic to bring them back to how things were. A shame it had to come to that really.
Ophelia held his hand in silence for a bit before the doctor came in to do a check up. Everything seemed to be going well based on the feedback that was being given, and she could relax a little bit at that. He’d be discharged before they knew it. As a nurse came in to change one of his IV’s, she felt her stomach turn a bit uneasy. Medical stuff always made her uncomfortable, and now that the initial adrenaline and shock has worn off and her father wasn’t going to die on her any moment, she felt that unease make itself known.
“I’m gonna go grab a coffee.” She squeezed her father’s hand before letting go, rising from her spot at his side and stepping out of the room. She made it down the hall to the elevator, planning to go to the cafe in the lobby to grab a drink when her plans changed. She needed some air. Something that wasn’t so clean and sterile. She needed out. She needed a drink.
Without another thought, she was gone from the hospital. She’d make some excuse that she had to go check on Ollie, that her boyfriend called and needed her, or something that could be somewhat believable, but really, she just couldn’t stay there anymore. Her thoughts were getting too loud and she was walking down the street almost on autopilot, not sure where her feet would take her, but anywhere had to be better than sitting in the hospital any longer.
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Daniel listened intently as his daughter spoke, her words laden with emotion that tugged at his heartstrings. He could feel her grip on his hand tighten, anchoring him to the present moment, reminding him of the bond they shared. Despite the discomfort he felt from his injuries, her presence brought him solace.
As she confessed about going to the park and receiving the call, Daniel's heart ached for her. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but his injuries restricted his movements. Instead, he focused on her words, absorbing every syllable, every ounce of vulnerability she poured out.
He felt a surge of pride mixed with sorrow as she apologized, acknowledging her mistakes and expressing her gratitude for his survival. Daniel wanted to reassure her, to let her know that forgiveness flowed freely from his heart, but his own emotions were a tangled mess.
With a gentle squeeze of her hand, Daniel finally found his voice, hoarse from disuse but filled with love and understanding. "Lia," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "I'm here, sweetheart. I hear you, and I understand. None of this is your fault, and I'm just grateful to have you by my side. I'm not going anywhere, okay?" assuring her as best he could when knew that she had begun to feel the guilt of her anger; the drinking and everything that spiralled her begin to truly show it's weight.
He mustered a weak smile, hoping to convey the depth of his love and reassurance despite the pain coursing through his body. In that moment, father and daughter shared a silent understanding, a bond unbroken by the trials they faced. Together, they would weather the storm, stronger than ever before. His hand reached to bring her hand to his lips and left a chaste kiss on her hand. "we'll be okay"
“Yeah, you are.” It was a relief, hearing his voice. She moved closer to his side, her grip firm on his hand to keep him in the moment before he’d doze off again. “About a day or so. Maybe a bit longer. Felt like it at least, sitting here waiting for you. This chair is terribly uncomfortable.” Though surely he was in more pain, even if he was getting pumped full of painkillers and medication.
She filled him in on everything that he had missed, giving him updates on the case from what Cardwell could and had shared with her, and anything the nurses had said while he slept. She paged for the doctor to come now that he was awake, but she was sure it would be a bit before they arrived, given how busy the hospital seemed when she got back.
As she waited, she looked down at their hands, unable to fully meet his eyes now. “Dad, I… I’ve got to tell you something.” She took a breath, trying to find the words to all her thoughts that were spiraling in her head this whole time. “I went to the park yesterday. That’s where I was when I got the call. I know you said I shouldn’t have gone and I know I’m too stubborn to listen but when I got that call… it fell like the universe was trying to punish me.”
“I know you’ve prepared me for the day I could get a call like that but it didn’t make it any easier to hear what had happened. I rushed over here with Ollie, that’s why we were at the park in the first place, and I didn’t know what to do.” Her voice broke slightly as she spoke and she shook her head slightly, willing herself not to cry. “I thought I could have lost you and I don’t think I can handle losing both my parents. Not after everything and especially not after the other night. And I’m sorry… I’m sorry for a lot of things over the past few years, but I’m really sorry, Dad… and I’m really glad that you’re alive.”
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As the haze of unconsciousness began to dissipate, the world around him slowly came into focus again. The sterile scent of the hospital room filled his nostrils, and the soft hum of medical equipment echoed in his ears. Blinking against the harsh glare of fluorescent lights, he struggled to orient himself, his mind still muddled from the lingering effects of whatever had landed him here.
He shifted slightly, feeling the stiffness in his limbs, and that's when he felt it - the reassuring pressure of a hand clasped in his own. Turning his head, he saw her there, his daughter, Ophelia, her eyes brimming with relief and concern. He managed a faint smile in response. "I'm here, sweetheart," he rasped, his voice rough from disuse. "How long have I been out?"
He nodded, taking a moment to process the information. Despite the fog of confusion still clouding his mind, one thing was abundantly clear - he was alive, and his daughter was here, by his side.
Daniel understood it would take time until he gradually regained his strength, the road to recovery wouldn't be easy. There would be challenges and setbacks along the way, but with Ophelia's support in her presence, he felt a newfound sense of hope blossoming within him.
Closing his eyes for a moment, he silently vowed to cherish this second chance, to make amends for the time lost, and to seize every precious moment with his daughter by his side. For in her presence, he found the strength to face whatever the future held, knowing that together, they could overcome anything. Perhaps together they could grieve their mother as they should have and mend their broken relationship.
Her head lifted immediately as she hears him whisper her name, her grip on his hand tightening. “Yeah… yeah, I’m here, Dad… I’m here…” She said softly, the tears starting to fall down her face then. The shock of it all falling away to the reality of where they were. But he was alive, and he knew she was there, or she hoped he did by the way his grip tightened too. It was a sign he’d hopefully be alright.
There was much else to do now but wait for him to come around fully and get discharged sooner than later. Neither of them enjoyed hospitals much. She had dozed off sitting beside him, but it was a restless sleep for the few hours she had gotten.
Cardwell returned early that morning, bringing coffee and giving her a chance to return home to check on Ollie and get some air. She was hesitant to leave, but assured her father’s friend that she’d be back in about an hour or less. He was still sleeping after all, and given this was the longest amount of time she’d been sober for, she needed to do something to starve off the longing for more.
Returning home had her doing a few chores as she tried to be a functional adult. Ophelia packed a small bag for her father of some toiletries and new clothes, fed and took Ollie around the block for a short walk, and managed to eat a bit of breakfast to put more food in her stomach. She debated having a bit of a drink as she did, but knew better. She needed her mind clear to handle things right now and only opted for a swig as she took a couple aspirin to hold her over.
True to her word, she had returned to the hospital about an hour later. “How’s he doing? Has a doctor been by? Do we have any updates?” She asked, dropping back into the seat she was occupying before, taking his hand once more. It felt odd being at her father’s side like this, holding his hand like a lifeline after so much time spent fighting over the past few years, but maybe this was the universe somehow giving them a chance to start over. Only time would tell.
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As Daniel slowly regained consciousness, the haze that clouded his mind began to dissipate. The sterile scent of the hospital room filled his nostrils, mingling with the faint beeping of nearby monitors. His body felt heavy, every movement sending a dull ache coursing through his veins.
Blinking groggily, he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. His gaze fell upon the figure seated beside him, her hand clasping his own with a desperation that tugged at his heartstrings. Ophelia. His daughter.
For a moment, he couldn't speak, couldn't find the words to reassure her. But as her whispered plea reached his ears, a surge of determination coursed through him. He may have been battered and bruised, but he wasn't ready to leave her. Not yet.
Summoning every ounce of strength he possessed, Daniel squeezed her hand weakly, his voice hoarse as he finally spoke. “Lia," he murmured, his words a mere whisper in the quiet of the room. Daniel knew that he had to fight. Fight for his daughter, for their fractured relationship that needed healing, for the chance to make things right.
His eyes felt too heavy to keep open but his hand stayed in hers, ever so slightly holding firmer as if she were his lifeline. The beeps of the machine were constant next to him, morphine dripping into the needle in his hand that kept him under. For the first time in a long while he was not thinking of his job; if the suspect was apprehended but that his daughter was here with him now.
His head hurt, his shoulder felt pained but dulled but he was kept calm by her presence that any panic he felt in the near death he had experienced in being shot. The image the memory of laying on the ground, staring up at a gun pointed at his head made him feel all the regrets of his life; over and over. Fate choosing to teach him a lesson to brink him the brink of death and force his hand to change.
He only held her hand that much closer to him. He needed to keep her close. Her presence was a beacon of hope in the darkness, a reminder of what truly mattered. He would recover. Not just for himself, but for Ophelia. For the chance to mend what was broken and to rebuild their bond stronger than before.
Taking a break on one of the park benches with Ollie, she pulled out her phone to pull up livestream of the press conference. Despite her anger towards her father, she still admired the work he did and part of her still found it cool that her dad would be on tv for stuff like this. However, he wasn’t at the conference. That couldn’t have been good. Receiving a call from DS Cardwell definitely wasn’t good.
“What? Is he… yeah, which hospital? I’ll be there soon.” Her world seemed to spin as she sat on the bench, gripping the leash tighter as she took a moment to breathe, but the panic was rushing through her. She couldn’t lose another parent. Without thinking, she took off running, Ollie keeping stride with her as she rushed to the hospital. She had to get there to see him. He couldn’t die.
“Where is he? DCI Hegarty? I’m his daughter!” She cried as she rushed in. A nurse tried to get her to calm down, seeing her enter with her pet. This wouldn’t do for a hospital. “Is he here? Is he alive?” DS Lenker hurried over to her, recognizing that Scottish accent from the man whom she was trying to discredit. She could push that aside to deal with his daughter for the moment.
“He should be here in any moment, the ambulance was bringing him.” The older woman explained, hands gripping the girl’s shoulders to get her to focus. “Let’s get some air, come on.” Ushering her outside, June kept an eye on the receiving doors for the detective to enter while trying to keep his daughter at bay for the moment. DS Cardwell came outside a moment later. “He’s here, going into surgery. Let me take the pup home for you while you wait.”
So Ophelia did, sitting anxiously in the waiting room with June, leg bouncing as she found a spot on the wall to focus on. She hated hospitals. She hadn’t spent too much time in them when her mother’s health declined rapidly, but she had her fair share of times sitting in sterile rooms with beeping monitors to keep her company.
It seemed like hours later when her father was out of surgery and taken to a room. She could breathe a bit easier, but she couldn’t fully until he woke up. June had got her some food and made her at least have some tea before leaving the girl for the night in the hospital room. So she remained, holding her father’s hand as she sat at his side. “You can’t leave me too…” She whispered to him, holding back tears. “I know you’d probably like to be rid of me some days, but… please don’t go…”
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As Daniel listened to Ophelia's words, a knot of worry tightened in his chest. He knew they were treading on dangerous ground, their conversation veering dangerously close to familiar territory – arguments fueled by emotion and alcohol. He wanted to reach out to her, to make her understand the risks she was taking, but he also knew that pushing too hard would only drive her further away.
Her words cut through the tense atmosphere, echoing the fears that had been gnawing at him in the last twenty-four hours. Ophelia muttered dismissively, her frustration palpable as she stormed off to the kitchen. Daniel watched her go, a pang of guilt gnawing at him as he realized the part he played in her distress. He knew he should have stopped her, should have intervened before things escalated, but the weight of his own grief and frustration held him back.
As the door slammed shut behind her, Daniel was left alone in the silence of their shared home, the sound echoing like a painful reminder of their fractured relationship. He wanted to follow her, to apologize and make things right, but he knew it was too late for that now. All he could do was wait, hoping that she would find some solace in the solitude of her room.
Morning came, He knew he had to leave for the conference soon, but he also wanted to make things right with his daughter before he left. However, before he could utter a word, his phone rang, interrupting the moment.
With a sense of urgency, Daniel answered the call, his heart sinking as he listened to the news on the other end. A breakthrough in the case had been made, and the suspect was found. Police units were being dispatched, and support was needed immediately. Daniel's stomach churned with apprehension as he processed the information – this was what he had been waiting for, but he hadn't expected it to happen so suddenly.
As Daniel rushed to the scene, his mind racing with thoughts of the case and a rouge detective forced on his team currently working against him and threatened his team. He sat in a car, surveying the area for their for a suspect; officers had missed him and he found the man currently behind that detective in question. He paused, clenching his fingers around his radio as he hesitating to make the call. He swore, swearing and jumping out of the car with his hand reaching for the gun in his holster and walked around the corner where he had been watching the man.
He never imagined that he would be the one in danger. In the chaos of the operation, a gunshot rang out, piercing the air with its deadly intent just as he shouted for the detective to watch her back. Pain seared through his body; through the shoulder and knocked him down. Daniel's world spun out of control. His vision blurred, his thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. In that moment, as darkness closed in around him, all he could think about was Ophelia – his daughter, his everything. And as he fought to stay conscious, he prayed that he would have the chance to see her again, to make things right, before it was too late.
Daniel blinked, eyes unsteadily looking at a gun pointed at his head with another shot ringing out.
When he swore, she knew they were crossing into dangerous territory when it came to their potential to having another fight, and she wasn’t drunk or sober enough right now to have it. “There’s always an active shooter somewhere in the world, isn’t there? Always some sort of danger whenever I leave the house. Hell, there’s danger in the house too!” Especially if he was encouraging her to drink. She knew they’d come to some sort of unspoken agreement to let her continue, but they both knew it could cost her one day, sooner or later.
“Yeah, whatever.” Ophelia brushed off his concern, getting off the couch in a huff. “Come on, Ollie.” She knew it was a mistake to even try to play nice tonight, especially when they were already at slightly heightened emotions over the loss of her mother. She made her way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle, an alcoholic one now despite her earlier insistence that it wouldn’t be, and began to head back to her room before he could stop her.
Slamming the door behind her and Ollie, and locking it for good measure, she flopped back onto her bed to drown her sorrows once more. She plugged her phone in, waiting for it to have enough charge to use it so she could look up the case he mentioned, before seeing the picture of her mother on her bedside table. “Sorry mum…” She muttered, opening the bottle and downing it.
She assumed she dozed off mid scrolling through social, because when she woke up hours later, the sun was peaking through her window and Ollie was contently laying across her bed with her. Checking the time, she realized the televised conference would be starting soon, which meant her father would be occupied for the moment. “Come on then, Ol. Let’s go for a walk in the park.”
Managing to at least get into the shower and grab a bite of toast this morning, Ophelia set off with her faithful companion in tow. Maybe getting some fresh air would do her some good, and she wanted to prove her father wrong that she’d be alright on her own. Maybe she’d even catch up with her boyfriend for another drink later, but for the moment, she really needed to shake off last night more than anything and forget about her father’s concerns when it suited him.
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He could tell from the tone of his voice, her nicknamed uttered that he wanted to bring up the argument of her drinking but the fact that they both wanted peace had won. He knew they couldn’t avoid the subject anymore. She had changed, seemed more aged with the alcohol and he couldn’t allow that to continue and watch her waste away.
The fact that she could barely have a decent conversation with him now made clear that it was hardly what he could say was quality time with her in the rare instances of him being at home and sitting here trying to care for her. Her half-hearted attempt to make any suggestion of eating a decent meal. He doubted it would be touched at all.
“Lia” he said again, this time a tone to adomish her for her lecture to him and darkened with bitterness in her tone. “For fuck sakes, Lia” he muttered, shaking his head and leaning his head back. “we have an active shooter out there. I wouldn’t think you would be wondering about in a playground but I just want peace of mind to have you home. Drink if you want just stay home when you do” he suggested, words likely falling on deaf ears that just wanted to hate him and be angry at him.
“We don’t know who it is or if it matters on the playground or not. Just do me this one favour, please Lia” he almost begged voice slightly strained as he looked over at his daughter with the hope that she might listen to him. It wasn’t as if he only worried for her but the fact that she was already reckless only heightened his worry over her.
As he said her nickname, Ophelia looked down, not wanting to get into another argument about her poor drinking habits. She didn’t have the energy right now and they’d already had this conversation plenty of times. Having another go of it really wouldn’t do any good when they’d just end up going in circles with it again.
Thankfully, he dropped whatever he was going to say, letting them pretend to be at peace for a moment longer, even if he was still trying to get her to eat. She likely had a pack of crisps up in her room she’d snack on layer if she really felt like it. “Pasta, yeah. Maybe.” It was the thought that counted she supposed.
“Oh god…” Ophelia said softly at the news, having missed that either by already being drunk, sleeping through it, or missing it due to her phone being dead. She did have alerts on for mentions of her father in the news, something she turned on years ago and couldn’t bring to turn it off, even when they were at such odds. It let her know what he was up to and kept her involved in its own way.
“That’s good… that he’ll live, not that he got shot of course.” She said after a moment, glancing at him. She couldn’t imagine some of the stuff he saw on a daily basis, and how he didn’t turn to a dunk more often than not because of it. She supposed that those horrors were better than facing the grim realities at home.
“Cause I often go for a stroll in the park.” Phee muttered, her focus back on her dog. She knew he was just looking out for her, but if anything, she was stubborn and it only made her want to go out more tomorrow to prove him wrong that she’d be safe. “I’ve been alright out there for several years now.” No thanks to him, but she managed to hold her tongue a little bit, even as she grew bitter again. “Never been pickpocketed from, or raped, or kidnapped. Think I’m a big girl and I can handle myself from all the shit out there.”
#dci-daniel-hegarty#dcidanielhegarty#rp#v: another round#why do you want to hurt me with them? :(#theresastargirl
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His eye twitched, jaw clenched as he breathed in slow and exhaled in out in the same way as he calmed himself to speak. He hated that he had made her turn to drinking, It would have been much worse if she had taken to drugs; a small blessing that she wasn’t so foolish to do that to herself but it was no better. She was hurting herself because he couldn’t bear to step up and be the father she needed. Daniel had let work ruin him; ruin them and all for naught but a reputation of a hard-working man.
That meant nothing if he ever lost his daughter. “Lia,...” he began, and stopped before he could continue. As much as he thought he could apologize to her now he knew it wasn’t the right time. Maybe there might never be but he knew it would ruin the only peace they had now.
Daniel turned to his head to his daughter. Despite looking hungover from her drink; sitting there with ollie, his head in her lap she looked her most calm than he had seen her in days. “I think it would be good to stay in for the rest of the night anyways. Let yourself settle and have a meal later” he lightly pushed, knowing that ultimately she would start to feel the hunger after the alcohol was gone from her system.
“I wanted to check in.” he answered, leaning back in his seat on the other end of the couch. “No curry, Just some pasta. I thought you might want something different than curries all the time” sensing her offering of peace; both seemed to know that they needed a moment to simply be father and daughter. He reached out, petting ollie who laid between them was now being spoiled for attention.
He rubbed a hand on his face, into his hair with a soft groan at her question. “a boy was shot in a playground - ehm, he’ll make it” he quickly said, unsure if she had seen much of the news. “I have to attend a televised conference tomorrow, I needed to come home and sleep before then. “Big case, just - don’t be out tomorrow. Yeah?” he asked, worried because they hadn’t found the shooter.
If they were on the run, desperate and cornered to do it again the crowds of civilians he would much rather have a peace in his mind that his daughter was home.
“Good woman.” She muttered, her hand idly running through Ollie’s fur as she looked at the paused version of her mum on the screen, smiling back at her. Maybe she did it get from her father. It certainly was an easier vice to turn to, when the liquor was in the house and the nanny didn’t pay too much attention to her. “It was this or drugs.” Phee tries to joke, but knows it’s hardly the appropriate topic. “Figured I’d kill my liver before my heart. What’s left of it, at least.” Both were in bad shape now anyway.
Talking about her mum was always hard, and she definitely wasn’t in the right headspace to dive into that topic. Her multiple therapists already tried when she was sober to no avail. Being in the in-between phase of drunk and hungover will likely wouldn’t be the best time to do it either.
“Not hungry, no, just… came down to get a drink and get back to bed.” She sighed, looking down at the dog who was now resting his head in her lap. “A sports drink, not a drink drink.” She felt the need to clarify, before she’d get some lecture right now about adding to the problem. Maybe Ollie could come up with her, keep her company while she went back to sleep. It’d be better than being alone with thoughts of her mother swimming around her head now.
“What’d you bring home tonight?” She could try to stomach it and have a brief passing of an olive branch right now. “Can’t do curry. Not right now.” Looking over at her father, she could see the worry lines had grown on his face, either from the job or from her. With a quick glance at the clock, she realized he mustn’t have gotten home too late this evening, all things considered. Must have been a slow week at work. “You haven’t been on the news lately, have you?” She diverted the focus of the conversation. That was how she normally saw her father as of late, through the television or on social media from the news. “No big cases?”
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Hearing a voice behind him he paused, sniffed quietly and reeled himself in. His eyes darting to hers when she sat down with him to watch the old tapes of her growing up. “She was brilliant. She did like to drink but stopped when she found out she was having you and swore off a drop of it.” he told her, remembering the years before when they both enjoyed a drink. She might have preferred a drop of wine compared to his pints and whiskey but she could drink as much as he dared in that time.
He sighed, looking at his empty glass now. “Perhaps you got it from me” he confessed, knowing he was no better to judge her when he was sitting there with a glass himself. They both drank to grieve but she had gone much further with it. He couldn’t allow that when he had a job to raise her alone these last few years but he knew in doing that he made it worse for his daughter to even consider the thought of reaching out to him. It was his fault; there was no doubt that his daughter and her vices were the consequence of his actions.
Daniel knew before long he might lose her. It felt as if he already had but he knew that he couldn’t let down his daughter by putting himself in his own self-doubts and ignorance he took. The job still needed him but he needed his daughter too. He would stop at nothing to try and win her back. He wanted his little girl to happy, to live her life and step away from all her punishment to herself with the drinking. He should had never let it get this far.
“Are you hungry? I know I already asked” he paused, sitting up and standing with his glass in hand to clean. “I can heat it up for you and you can put something on or we keep watching. We can talk about her?” he asked tentatively, unsure if this was the right step for her and whether she would consider speaking to him now when he was nothing silent then. Daniel wanted to reach out to her; to do that was to overcome his own grief; theirs - to save his daughter.
She only grunted her reply, already dozing back off as he felt her pulse. Tonight wasn’t nearly as bad as some, her boyfriend thankfully having some sense to send her back home early enough before she could get into too much more trouble. Food in the fridge, she’d keep that for later, but otherwise, she couldn’t care less about what else her father might have been saying. There was always leftovers for her in the fridge anyway, so she really didn’t need to worry too much, and let herself pass back out again.
Ophelia wasn’t sure what time it was when she woke up. Her phone was dead beside her, but most importantly, the waste bin had been moved closer and that was much needed at the moment. Groaning as she lifted her head from it a bit later, she set it aside to deal with later before sitting up. Hands rubbed at her face, deciding to wake up a bit and put something in her stomach since she just emptied it.
Stumbling a bit, she made her way downstairs, planning on just grabbing a bottle of Lucozade from the fridge and going back up to her room, but stopped as she heard her mother’s voice from the other room. It wouldn’t have been the first time she had drank so much and imagined hearing her mum, alive and well, but she knew that couldn’t be the case. Stepping into the living room, she leaned against the doorway, watching the video for a moment. Her mother would he so disappointed in her now.
“I don’t think I ever saw her drink.” Ophelia said softly, making her presence known. “She was always just happy without it. She didn’t need it to get through life, did she?” She moved over to sit on the other end of the couch, her dog Oliver coming to curl up by her. “How fucked is that?”
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Moving quick out of the way of her wayward hand he avoided her attempt to shove him away. He merely sighed at her response; not caring to chastise her for her swearing. They were both past the point of those arguments. In the past they could have a screaming match, or two; quite a few as he remembered when she began to act out and drink. Daniel knew that the only response now was to remain the calmer one; not to rise to her level when he felt he was he in the right. She was a drunk; in his line of work there was no way to deal with a drunk other than patience.
At least he knew she as conscious not to worry if she had drunk to much that he needed to rush her off to hospital and pump her stomach. He stood, fixing the blanket around her and tuck her hair back, checking her colour and took her wrist to check her pulse. It was something of a habit now that he kept up with since the last time she had drank far too much and got herself sick.
“aye, I’ll keep it in the fridge for you,” he told her, moving around her bedroom and finding her rubbish bin under the desk to keep by her bed in the event she got herself sick. “Night, Lia” Daniel spoke softly before he left her alone and shut the door to her room with her empty bottle in his hand and made his way back downstairs to clean up. He heated a plate and refilled the dog bowl as he prepared for dinner alone. It was quiet as he ate, moving around and doing his usual chores before grabbing a scotch nightcap from a hidden bottle and sitting on the couch.
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He turned on the TV, putting on a tape from years ago and sat back as he watched it. A video played, his wife sitting with their young daughter as a wee thing just trying to walk her steps towards her. He had been filming them both. Daniel swallowed hard, seeing his wife young and then his young daughter smiling toothily at him as she turned to him. He had lost his little girl; he felt ashamed to let his wife down. His eyes misted as he brought the drink to his lips and drank it.
He stared at his wife; the video still playing as he watched them both. “I’m sorry” he whispered, aloud.
She didn’t know what time it was when she stumbled into her home, only that her dog awaited her. Like always. Her father was stuck at work. It wasn’t anything new, and in the past few years, it seemed like he was gone more often than he was home, and if he was home, Ophelia didn’t want to be. She found a new group of mates after her mum died and quickly found that alcohol helped numb some of the pain of her passing, but it soon turned much worse as she kept relying on the bottles to get through the day.
She stirred slightly as her father removed the current bottle from her grasp, instead moving to grab hold of her purse instead to cuddle with. It was the childlike action of wanting to cling to something in the night that she held on to, despite everything. The only bit of innocence she seemed to hold onto since she forced herself to grow up four years ago.
As she was shook awake, she groaned, hiding her face in her pillow, trying to block him out. Really, she knew her father was only trying his best to help her, but food was the last thing she wanted right now. She felt sick already. “Fuck off.” She mumbled into the bedding, her arm weakly trying to swat him off of her. It wasn’t fair, and being drunk wasn’t much of an excuse either, as their relationship had broken down so much in the past years.
“I’ll eat later.” Maybe in the morning she could stomach some toast with her hangover, at least then she’d have something in her stomach, but right now, all she wanted to do was go back to sleep and be left alone.
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It was the end of the night, home finally after coming back after a shift with a new case that was testing his patience. It was quiet; the two bedroom flat was silent against the other noises in the house. He saw his dog, lying down on the floor of the darkened living room. The lights were turned down in all the rooms as he found every room and hallway dark. With a heavy sigh he moved to the first door leading to his daughter’s room. He found her, sprawled on her bed and reeking of alcohol; not an uncommon occurrence and worse as of late but at least she had made it home on her own.
It was hardly surprising that he didn’t get a call, a warning that his daughter had made a scene of herself, and often enough times he was called to pick her up. It seemed that she was getting worse. The bottle in her hand was beside her. He collected it, fixing her limbs to lay her back in bed, and tucked her hair back behind her ear. Sitting still on her bed as he looked down and her. Gone were the days when she was young and innocent. She was so troubled.
He blamed himself in part of that since her mother died 4 years ago. Daniel took it terribly. He was grieving himself but neglected his daughter. He hired a nanny, gave her more allowances to do things she wanted and he even convinced himself that a dog could fix her problems but instead, she took to drinking. He cared for the dog on his own. It only remained company for her when he needed a guard dog when she drank herself to sleep. At least, he was still useful for something.
He gently woke her; minding that her drink made her rather bitter but he needed to check on her. “Lia, have you eaten?” quietly speaking to his daughter in a gentle tone as he shook her arm. “You’ll get sick if you don’t eat” he coaxed. “I brought dinner”
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