Sibling spotlight - billie and Finneas story

PTSD

Chapter: PTSD

The door shut softly behind their parents, but the weight of the moment hung in the air. Their father, usually so strong and composed, looked like he was holding himself together by a thread. Maggie stood by his side, her hand gently on his back, trying to soothe him as he blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears. The sight of Y/N shrinking from him had cut him deeper than anything else ever could.

“I’m just… I’m her father,” he muttered under his breath, barely able to get the words out. “How can she be scared of me?”

Maggie pulled him into a soft embrace, her arms wrapping around him. “She’s not really scared of you, honey,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “She’s scared of what happened. Of him. This isn’t about you.”

But even though the words were meant to comfort, they didn’t take away the sting of seeing his little girl recoil from him. His hands trembled slightly as he tried to compose himself, not wanting to make the situation any harder for Y/N.

On the other side of the room, Billie sat on the bed, her arms wrapped tightly around Y/N’s fragile frame. Y/N had calmed down, but her body was still tense, her eyes unfocused as they stared at nothing in particular. Billie stroked her sister’s hair softly, whispering quiet reassurances as she held her close.

“It’s okay, you’re safe,” Billie repeated over and over, though she wasn’t sure if Y/N was really hearing her. “We’re here. We’ve got you.”

Finneas stood nearby, trying to figure out how to approach the situation. He knew Y/N was confused, that her mind was fighting with her heart. The logical part of her knew that their father wasn’t a threat, but the trauma ran too deep. Her body reacted before her mind could catch up.

“Y/N,” Finneas started gently, taking a cautious step toward her. He kept his voice low and soothing, not wanting to scare her. “It’s just Papa. It’s Dad. He loves you so much. You know that, right?”

Y/N didn’t respond at first, her fingers clutching Billie’s shirt as if it were a lifeline. She blinked slowly, as if trying to wake up from a bad dream, but the fear still lingered in the back of her mind.

Finneas knelt down beside the bed, carefully keeping his distance so he didn’t overwhelm her. He watched her closely, his heart aching as he saw the pain etched on her face. “Remember all the times he’d come home and pick you up, spinning you around, making you laugh? Remember how he always made the best pancakes on Sundays?” His voice was calm, soft, as if he was telling a story. “That’s your dad. He’s not here to hurt you.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered slightly, and she glanced toward Finneas, though she didn’t fully meet his gaze. She could hear what he was saying—she knew it was true—but the images in her mind were louder. The man who had taken her, hurt her, haunted her dreams, and somehow her father’s face had blended with his. But it wasn’t right, it wasn’t real. She knew that. She just didn’t know how to stop feeling it.

Billie kissed the top of Y/N’s head gently, still holding her close. “He’s been so worried about you, Y/N. He just wants to see you safe.”

Y/N’s body trembled slightly, a tear slipping down her cheek. She wanted to run to her father, to tell him she wasn’t really afraid of him, that she loved him so much. But her muscles wouldn’t move, and every time she pictured him coming closer, her chest tightened.

From across the room, their father stood silently, his face turned away so no one could see the tears finally spilling from his eyes. Maggie held him tighter, whispering quiet words of comfort, though her own voice wavered. “She’ll come back to you,” she said, her tone soft but firm. “It’s going to take time, but she’ll come back.”

He nodded, but the pain still gnawed at him. His shoulders slumped, and for the first time in a long while, he looked defeated.

“Papa?” Y/N’s voice was a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the hospital machines. It was the first word she had spoken to him directly since they arrived. Her voice shook, and tears filled her eyes as she slowly glanced toward her father.

Everyone in the room went still.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m not—I don’t mean to be scared of you. I love you. I do.”

Her father turned slowly, his eyes red, his heart aching. “I know, sweetheart,” he managed, his voice thick with emotion. “I know you do.”

Y/N’s body tensed again, but she fought against the fear. She didn’t want to be scared of him. She wanted to run into his arms like she always did, to feel safe again. But she couldn’t. Not yet.

Finneas placed a gentle hand on her arm, grounding her. “It’s okay to feel this way right now,” he said softly. “We all understand. And so does Dad. No one’s rushing you.”

Y/N sniffled, nodding slightly, though her tears continued to fall. She felt Billie’s arms tighten around her, and for the first time, she didn’t feel as trapped in her fear. Finneas was right—they weren’t rushing her. They understood.

Across the room, their father wiped his eyes and forced a small, understanding smile. “I’ll wait as long as you need, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I’ll always be here for you.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for the first time since the ordeal began, Y/N felt a flicker of something other than fear. It was small, fragile, but it was there—hope.