Burden Me

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Author's Note: Hi there! Here is my first EVER one shot that has NO smut. Though Charlie does call himself Daddy. Nothing is mentioned beyond kissing. I wrote this when I was in my sad feels of feeling like a burden. I hope reading this will help someone in the way that it helped me to write it.

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It's late when you call. You know this and it worsens your guilt, but you've run out of options.

You went through all the self-soothing steps.

Took deep breaths.

Counted to ten.

Named five things you can see, four you can hear, three you can touch, two you can smell, and one you can taste.

However, in moments like this, nothing is as helpful as hearing the voice of someone who makes you feel loved.

"H-Hello? Sweetheart is that you?"

Charlie's voice is thick and groggy from sleep.

You've woken him.

Stupid bitch.

You choke on a sob, unable to hold it in.

Charlie is on high alert now. You can hear it from the way his breathing changes and the sound of him grunting to sit up. He says your name–sternly but not unkind.

It's his worried 'Dad voice'.

You've heard him use it countless times when talking to Henry.

He repeats himself, snapping your attention back to the present.

"Are you safe right now?"

You nod your head with a whimper, forgetting you're on the phone.

"I can't see whether or not you're nodding your head. Can you give me a verbal answer?"

You open your mouth and take a shuddering breath as fresh tears roll down your face. "I'm safe."

Charlie lets out a sigh of relief. In your mind you can picture his shoulders relaxing on the exhale.

"Good."

You can practically feel the tension leave his body.

"And good girl for answering."

You can only manage to sniffle in acknowledgement.

"What's going on over there? Why isn't my little rabbit sleeping? Did you have a bad dream?"

If only it was just a nightmare.

You shake your head and cry into the phone.

Your tears pool against the screen of your cell phone. You can feel the dampness on your cheek.

Some part of your brain scolds you for being weak. While another reminds you that he still can't see you.

"Sweetheart? Hey, come on now. Focus on me. Only me, okay?"

"N-Not a nightmare." You force out past your tears.

"Shhh, that's alright. Then what's making my girl upset?"

His voice is so soothing–so loving.

You want to slip it on like a warm pair of pajamas that are fresh from the dryer.

He's waiting for an answer. You know he is. It feels awful leaving him waiting after you so rudely woke him.

Why did he even bother keeping you around when you were such a—

"Burden. I'm a burden."

"What?" He genuinely sounds shocked, as if you had said something outlandish and not something your brain is telling you is a fact.

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