𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷 𝓚𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓭𝔂| ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴏᴏᴋ 4

Not The One Who Deserves An Apology

Leon's POV: 

The weight of my failure rests heavy on my shoulders as I ride my bike towards home, it feels wrong to have somewhere stable and safe to return to, like I don't deserve to have the right to be happy. The fucking mission went to shit so fast, and I let my guard down- it was just for a second- but that doesn't justify the repercussions of it. A younger agent who's back I was supposed to have got hurt because I was too fucking busy wondering what my family would think of me if they knew I killed my enemies without hesitation. It cost me, and now I've got to live with the consequences, the trouble is it's getting harder and harder to pretend that I'm not crumbling inside. How can I smile when only hours earlier I took more lives than I want to acknowledge? 

Before I know it I'm unlocking the front door, acting on autopilot as I step into the warmth of my home. Everything feels too comfortable, from the family photos to the smell of fresh baking coming from the kitchen, it does nothing to melt the frozen state of my mind. I'm immediately greeted by the cheerful chatter of my wife and daughter, I walk into the kitchen, seeing them both sat at the kitchen table decorating cupcakes. I want to smile, I want to open my arms and kneel down like I usually do, tackling my daughter in a tight hug whilst feeling her little body melt into mine. I want to kiss my wife, savouring the taste of her lips like I have ever since we first got together. Instead I stand there like an old ragdoll, feeling as used and damaged as one. I clear my throat, announcing myself without speaking. Two sets of excited eyes meet mine, and straight away my wife rushes to me, wrapping her arms around me. 

Our daughter giggles, hopping off of the chair before bumbling over to me and hugging my legs with struggle, but that doesn't stop her from swaying and staring up at me. "Daddy! Guess what, me and mommy made some yummy cupcakes earlier, and we've been decorating them!" She exclaims with too much energy than I can deal with. Regardless, I'm not a complete monster, so I pat her head as my wife watches me suspiciously. I don't verbally reply, but for now our daughter brushes it off. I watch her innocent eyes blink up at me, suddenly a massive sense of frustration builds within me. The world's too fucking shitty for such an innocent little girl like her, I hate that I'm not what she'll ever expect me to be, I'm always going to be the dad that's a little traumatised, too fucked up to always be present. 

"Leon?" Y/N worriedly says, keeping an arm around my waist as she pulls back to observe me. In the meantime our daughter runs to the kitchen table, grabbing the plate of decorates cupcakes before shoving them near my knees, her eyes wide as she begins babbling about what each one is and her ideas. I usually love her odd but loveable explanations and rambles, but right now I can't even function as a man- let alone a husband and a father. I nod mindlessly, not listening as I sigh frustratedly at my own uselessness. I can't even pretend to be okay right now, and I'm so mad at myself for it. Y/N begins to see my anger building, so she releases her hold on me and leans down to our daughter, trying to get her to calm down, but our kid's a chatterbox who loves her parents more than anything. 

"...and here, I made one just for you daddy-" She continues, but I can't keep listening to her trying to coax me into doing something I'm not able to right now. Instead I step back and run a hand through my hair, breaths coming fast as she keeps going, finally plucking up a blue covered cake and waving it around as if still trying to get me to say something. 

"Can't you just be quiet for once!" I snap, voice sharp and loud. As soon as the words are out the room goes dead silent. Y/N's face drops as her brows furrow, at the same time my daughter begins to unravel rapidly, eyes sullen and bottom lip quivering. The sight destroys me, adding to the ever growing list of things I feel shitty about. I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, not when D/N's breathing becomes erratic as if she's going to cry because of me. I look down at the cake she's holding out, finally seeing that it reads 'best dad ever'. It's the final punch to the gut, and I'm down for the count. My eyes sting, so before anyone can see me breakdown I turn on my heel and head to the bathroom, closing the door behind me before I throw off my clothes and get into the shower, setting the water to boiling hot. 

By the time I'm done nearly forty-five minutes later the house is still silent. I go to the bedroom and throw on a tee and some sweatpants, then I sit on the end of the bed, my head in my hands as I breathe and breathe. Not long after Y/N comes in, kneeling down in front of me as I shake from fatigue and the overwhelming sense of failure. Carefully she reaches out, taking my hands in her own softer ones, her wedding ring glints in the dim light shining in from the hall. I swallow, tears shed and eyes dry now, but I can't guarantee they're all gone. 

"Leon, tell me what's going on?" She whispers. My throat constricts, I shake my head, but stop halfway, knowing we've had problems in the past due to my troubles of opening up. With a heavy breath I begin to explain the mission and my mistakes. Mistakes. I can't believe I fucked up so bad. The only positive is that the younger agent is alive, albeit severely injured. Y/N listens intently, not interrupting me until a sob wracks me. She's there instantly, perching on the bed and wrapping me in her arms, letting me bury myself in her comfort. After a while she pulls back, cupping my jaw and lifting my face so my eyes meet hers. "You're not a burden for needing help, and it's okay to not be perfect." 

I shake my head. "I- not in my line of work. Shit, I've messed everything up. I'm so sorry." I mumble, feeling only a little bit better about opening up. Fucking talking therapy actually worked. Y/N's lips purse as she lets her lips curve a tiny bit. 

"It's okay, but I'm not the one who deserves an apology." She shrugs, glancing at the wall where our kid is next door. 

"I'm a terrible father."

"No you're not, you're just human. It's okay to make mistakes, but don't let them linger, and make sure you make up for them." She softly replies, brushing my hair away from my face. I nod, leaning over to kiss her forehead. She hums in delight before speaking again. "D/N's waiting on a bedtime story, I think you should read it tonight." I stand up, wiping my palms on my sweatpants before going to my daughter's room. The door is open, showing my little baby sat up in bed, her favourite toy that I bought her a few years ago clutched to her chest, her eyes wide when she sees me, but then they dart away as if she doesn't even want to risk being told off again. My heart pangs, the pain almost sending me to my knees, regardless I knock, mustering a small smile to show I'm not the bad guy. 

"Can I come in, I heard it's time for a story?" I ask, feeling nervous about speaking to her. She bites her lip, staring at her toy instead of me. 

"I think mommy's going to be here in a sec." She mutters, voice wavering. I suck in a breath, then step into the room, determined to set at least one thing right in my life. She watches my socked feet approach her, even as I perch on the edge of her bed. 

"Mom's getting ready for bed right now, and asked me to take over." I softly say, then I pluck the book she's picked out from her nightstand, it's her comfort book, which means I've really got to work for her forgiveness. I smile, waving the book up as she watches me hesitantly. I begin with talking about the book, telling her my favourite character and some parts I know she likes, but she's not letting me in. I try a different approach. "I saw the cupcake you made me, it looks so good. I'm really sorry I didn't see it earlier, it's just...daddy wasn't having a good day." 

"You were mean to me." She finally mumbles, lip wobbling. I nod once more, reaching out to stroke her hair as she leans into my touch, slowly she's warming to me again. 

"I know, and I'm really, really sorry sweetie," I murmur, "I shouldn't be mean to you just because the world was mean to me, and I hope you can forgive me, because I love you so much and love being your father." I practically plead. After a few seconds of torture her eyes lift to mine and she nods, opening her arms for me to hug her, I lean down, enveloping her into my arms, and for the first time in days I begin to feel okay. Suddenly she kisses my cheek, smiling as she pulls back and settles under the covers. I press my fingers to my cheek, smiling as she giggles. 

"What was that for?" 

"Whenever I feel sad that's what you and mommy do to me, so I thought it would make you feel happy too." God, this kid, I love her so much. I huff a laugh, thanking her before I open the book and begin reading to her, in no time she's drifting off, little snores already coming from her mouth. I sit there even when she's fast asleep, watching the rise and fall of her chest and the way she's my miracle. D/N and my wife are truly my reason for living. I hear Y/N approach the doorway, her eyes crinkle as she watches us both, then she beckons me over to her, arms opening in gesture for cuddles. I kiss my daughter's head before leaving and going to seek more healing from the love of my life.