Raspberry Girl

(SFW and should be fine for Patreon.)

His phone rings twice before he manages to pick it up.

It’s buried beneath a stack of file folders, their manilla sleeves full of papers that say practically nothing, just big black strikethroughs all across the pages.

A waste of time.

You’re still at work too, at least you were the last time he checked, the little blue icon on the map showing your location at the bakery.

It’s well past seventeen hundred, and you should already be at home but when these last minute things come in, you have a hard time saying no.

For now.

He has a plan to rectify that.

The phone vibrates once, twice before he pulls it free, glancing at your name across the top of the screen and putting it to his ear. “Hi sweetheart-”

“D-daddy,” it’s jagged, covered by a reedy rasp, shortened breaths puffing into the microphone. The razored edge of his Captain mindset falls away to something else, and he softens his voice, coos at you over the echoing sandpapered gasps.

“Hey baby, what is it?” Cut to the chase. Identify the problem. Keep her calm. The answer to his question is a muffled sob, and someone’s high pitched, panicked voice in the background. His mind runs in a million different directions, paths splitting and multiplying, but they all lead to the same place. Eliminate.

“We were r-robbed, we were… they broke the door and m-made me open the safe.” Every vein, every blood cell, every single piece of his body turns to ice, and the door to his office nearly comes off its hinges as he rips it open. The hallway is a million miles as he charges through it, corner of the phone pressed so tight to his skin he thinks it might bruise, and when he spots Kyle at the end of the hall, he jerks his head, muting his end of the conversation for a second.

“Need you with me.”

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Someone held up the bakery. Don’t know more than that yet.” Kyle doesn’t press, he just falls in at his side, stride by stride, overtaking the distance to his truck until they’re screaming out of the lot towards the gate. The police scanner mounted on the dash is squawking.

String of burgs. Multiple businesses hit. Caller reporting burg just occurred two nine pine Pratt street.

“D-daddy,” you whimper, so small and so fucking terrified, his vision goes red with rage.

He’ll tear them limb from limb.

“Are you hurt?”

“I don’t know- they… they grabbed me but I don’t th-think so.” He’ll kill them.

“Are they still there?”

“No, they… they left,” you hiccup and gasp, “Mara called… she called the police.”

“You’re sure they’re gone?” You choke on a sob. “It’s okay, deep breath. Just listen to me. Take a big breath, you can do it.” An inhale strangles its way through your lips, and then whistles back the way it came. “Good girl, that’s it. Are you sure they’re gone?”

“Yeah, they… they left when I called you, I called you- I didn’t know what to do I didn’t… I- I-”

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay. ‘m almost there.” A squad car goes flying by them full lights and sirens, Kyle’s fist tightens on the wheel.

“You’re coming?” Your voice bleeds with hope.

“I’m coming baby.”

The police beat them there. Not by much, but with enough time that they’ve already made entry and contacted you and Mara, bringing you outside to where an ambulance waits.

You’re terrified. The medic is trying to urge you over but you’re immobile, shaking like a leaf with your fingers clutching one another, eyes wide and wet.

When you catch a glimpse of him striding towards you, your body loses its battle, limp muscles failing to hold you up and sending you careening to the ground. He makes it just in time to catch you by the waist.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he cups the back of your head, curling his shoulders to shield you, “I’m here, I’m right here. Daddy’s here.” You don’t respond. He knows your words are failing you, and he has no desire to force them forward. Instead, he looks over at the medic. “Did you get to look at her yet?” She shakes her head.

“She wouldn’t let me get close enough.” He cups your cheek and chin to pull your face away.

“The medic is going to look you over.” He’s very firm. There’s no room for negotiation, and your uncertainty from earlier rings between his ears. You shuffle as he leads you to a spot where you can sit, still clinging to him, too afraid to let go. When he stands, a terrified nose echoes in your throat. “I’m not goin’ anywhere sweet girl, I’ll be right here with you, alright?”

You nod.

He holds you the entire time, keeping you calm as they check your pupils, asking about pain, dizziness, anything abnormal. It doesn’t take long, and once you’ve passed the exam, he carefully loads you into the passenger seat of the truck before finding Gaz.

He’s sitting on the curb next to Mara, her face blank except for the wrinkle between her brow.

“I’m gonna take her home in a minute, drive her car.” He motions to the sedan in the back of the parking lot, and Mara shivers.

“Alright,” There’s a small gleam in Kyle’s eye, barely there but lurking in the depths of his pupils, and if he wasn’t so grim, he’d smirk. “Take care of her.” His nod is solemn.

“I will.”

You don’t speak.

He gets you in and out of the shower, into clean clothes and settled at the kitchen table with some light dinner in front of you, all without a single word. You’re responsive at least, following commands, listening, open your mouth when he holds a spoon of soup up to it. When you swallow, he praises.

“Good job baby.” You don’t ask for more, you just sit there, a hand on his thigh, fingers gripped tight like you’re trying to hang on. “Are you getting full?” The entire bowl is nearly gone, but you still don’t answer.

He won’t push. Everyone deals with traumatic experiences differently, violent experiences, and he doesn’t care how long it will take you to process it all. He’ll be right here through it.

You sniffle and sag against the chair. Your energy is completely depleted as he expected, and the soup will have to be enough for now.

“Alright sweetheart, c’mon. Let’s get you into bed.”

Instinct tells him to leave the hall light on and crack the door, carefully extracting himself long enough to get changed and refill your water bottle, talking to your silent form the whole time, telling you where he’s going, what he’s doing. Your eyes don’t leave his for a second, though the light seems to soothe some of the anxiety marring your face.

When he finally gets back in bed and pulls you close, you break apart, burying your face in his chest to sob.

All he can do is hold you.

*if this ends up being taken down, I will post it Tumblr and provide the new password.