Gatherings

Found

"Daddy!"

It should have been an absolutely heartwarming sight to see the little bundle of sunshine that was her niece scurry to her feet upon seeing her father. An amused smile should have graced both their faces when the toddler- unused to wearing a dress -momentarily got her pudgy little legs twisted in her vivid white skirt. They should have had to suppress a giggle or guffaw when the little girl set her brow with all the seriousness of an adult to analyze what was hindering her in her quest to get to her parent. And they should have cheered and applauded the clever girl when she reached down and pulled her skirt up to free her legs.

But none of that happened...

Only Magnus acknowledged his likewise golden-haired cousin; cooing in wonder and trying to grasp at the blurry figure of white and gold racing towards him.

As both Natalie and Frederick were lost in a world all their own. A world of fear, pain, and darkness born from the memories they struggled so hard to bury.

For the Chase family patriarch's private study was the ultimate symbol of dread while growing up in the Boston brownstone. Being told to climb the stairs and knock on the imposing dark wood door that always seemed to tower over them no matter how tall they grew was the ultimate sobering experience. The creeping cold that spread from the depths of their stomach when they heard the muffled voices cease when they rapped upon the door. The sensation of falling when the prickly voice of their father instructed them to enter. How the hairs on the back of their necks stood on end when the door swung open to a room bathed in darkness. The unnatural silence that seemingly devoured the outside world as they stepped into the study under the cold piercing stare of the man's steel-like colored eyes. How their every instinct screamed louder and louder for them to flee with each step they took; the room feeling as if it was growing darker and darker. What happened after they crossed the distance and stood before their father's desk always differed, but it always left a mark in one form or another.

For Natalie, the worst memory was from the eve of her sixteenth birthday, when their mother discovered her doodlings of a tattoo designs she wanted done in secret. The man never yelled or screamed (nor had she ever heard him raise his voice in her life) but after he dropped her on her bed when he was through, she was terrified to get so much as an ink drop on her flesh.

She didn't know what Frederick's worst memory was, but from hushed conversations with Randolph she had her suspicions. Stories of an incident involving his five-year-old self touching a one-of-a-kind sword that ended with him sobbing for days on end about his scent.

"DADDY!" The toddler shouted, stomping her foot in protest at the lack of her father's attention.

"Huh? Oh!" Frederick gasped, the small girl snapping them free of their nightmarish past. In one fluid motion her brother scooped his daughter off the floor, earning a delighted giggle from her niece. Frederick kissed Annabeth's golden curls before she wrapped her little arms around his neck. "Sorry dear, just... distracted is all." He kissed the toddler's head again. "But now that we've found you... didn't you hear us calling you?"

Natalie couldn't help but grin as her niece shook her head with a muffled, "no."

"Ah, okay... I guess you were a floor above us..." Frederick wrinkled his nose as he tried to determine what to do next. It was clear that he knew that something else still needed to be said to his daughter, but he was not sure exactly what.

"She left your side, Freddy," she coughed into her fist. Providing her brother with a parenting tip with all the subtlety of a freight train. "Not a good thing."

The middle Chase's eyes widened at her words, and he gave her a quick nod of thanks in turn. "That's okay, Anna-banana-" the bundle of blonde curls let out angry squeal and kicked her father in the shin, nearly dropping him to his knees. "Sorry," he squeaked as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.