Daddy Issues ~ Sebastian Stan {Completed}

38.

"Mom!" You heard a distant voice yell. 

"Mom wake up!" You stirred a bit, getting your senses back. You felt the soft duvet wrapped around you, the cold pillow under your head, the calm wind blowing against your face, your toes warm inside the fuzzy socks. 

"Mom!!" The yell again, this time you felt a pair of small hands vigorously pulling the duvet and pushing you. "Mom, wake up!!"

Mom? You shoot your eyes open, seeing a blue-eyed little girl with your hair standing next to you. Her pale skin was glowing under the morning sun rays. She was in a little blue dress with white polka dots, similar to the one you owned when you were 5. 

"Mom, grandpa is making pancakes!" She smiled. 

"Grandpa?" You whispered, pulling the duvet off you, and getting off the bed. 

"Up," The little girl said, tugging at the bottom of your plain olive green hoodie, that was too big to be yours. You quickly picked her up, resting her on your hip as you looked around. This wasn't your room, it was much bigger and was colored navy blue and grey. "Mom, pancakes!" The girl reminded you, turning your face to look at her, her tiny hands squishing your cheeks. "Good morning, mama," She smiled, kissing your nose and cheek. 

"Good morning, baby," You smiled. This was your daughter. 

"Guys these pancakes are getting cold!" You heard a British male voice. 

"Dad?" You furrowed your eyebrows, walking towards the voice. 

"Good morning, doll," His voice boomed as the man turned around. His ice-blue eyes with the wrinkles at the end, his smile showing off his teeth and reaching up to his ears. His curly dirt blonde hair tucked behind his ear. He looked just like he did when you last saw him, all those years ago. His lean body hiding behind the loose crewneck and basketball shorts.

"Dad!" You felt the tears running down your cheek as you walked closer to him. 

"Are you hungry, honey?" He smiled, kissing your forehead three-time, as he always did. 

"I am!" Your daughter yelled, jumping in your arms. 

"Just sit down, I'll have this ready in a sec," he smiled, booping her nose as you walked her to the kitchen island. This wasn't your apartment, it was your old house, where you lived before moving to Boston. A two-story brick house, with a small porch, and a pool in the back. Nothing too fancy, just a generic family house. 

You smiled at him, looking around and realizing this was your life, you, your daughter, and your parents, living happily in your childhood house. You turned back to your dad, horrified at the image before you. The heavenly glow of this reality had quickly been pulled away.

It was your father, but it wasn't him in his previous attire, it was him on the day of the accident. He was in his work clothes, his left arm dislocated and blood pouring from the wound between his eyebrows, his skin was pale and almost ghostly. 

"How could you do this?" His voice was distorted as he limped towards you, holding his left arm. "He cold bloody murdered me and you still stayed with him. Had his kid too!" He yelled, looking at your daughter, hobbling around the kitchen island to you.

"What? No!" Tears ran down your cheeks as you stumbled away from the body. 

"You disloyal brat!" He spits as he caught up with you, holding your throat and pushing you against the wall. "How dare you still love him? After what he did to Hayley, Ryan, and me!" You choaked, not able to breathe, feeling your vision go blurry.