Chapter Text
She couldn’t stop herself from sighing as her phone buzzed against the kitchen countertop. Charla wasn’t surprised, just tired. Her phone had been going off intermittently all day. She had been doing her best to just ignore it.
The blinking of a familiar phone number was enough to make Charla consider tossing the phone across the room entirely. Obligation fought with frustration building in the back of her mind. Decades of obligation had been drilled into her by her family. Even now, she still felt the pull to be a good daughter.
Her schedule was too packed to indulge her brother randomly calling. The girls needed to be dropped off at school, she had a shift in the morning and her wife was elbow deep in a new project. Charla had couple group meetings coming up this month on top of all of that too-
Yet, the calls persisted.
Charla lowered the knife gingerly onto the cutting board, starting to wipe her hands as she watched the phone jitter across the counter. As far as Charla was concerned, the damn thing could fall on the floor at this rate and she wouldn’t care. She didn’t want any of this, any of the drama her family brought her.
“You gonna get that-?”
Charla jolted a little, glancing back at her spouse. The blue heeler arched a brow back at her curiously from the kitchen doorway. Charla opened her mouth, then closed it, before managing to find the words she needed.
“It’s my brother.”
Understanding blossomed across the other woman’s face immediately. “Woof.” The reaction earned a laugh from the chinchilla. The tension she was feeling dissipating almost entirely. Bluey strode forward into the kitchen, not touching the phone, just draping an arm around Charla’s shoulders. The direct contact was a balm that Charla needed. A steady reminder she wasn’t alone anymore. The shorter woman gladly leaned into her partner’s hold.
“I don’t know if I want to know what Chip needs this time.” She admits as the phone finally goes still. Knowing Chip he was going to either leave a short irritated voicemail demanding she call back, or spam call her. It was always fifty-fifty with her brother. His impatience was one of the few things he carried from childhood.
“Nothing good, I’d wager.” Bluey muses with a wrinkle of her snout. “Your brother usually only wants something from you. I’m surprised you haven’t blocked him yet, lovey.”
“It’s complicated.” That was a sentence Charla hated saying, but hadn’t become any less true with time. Her family was always complicated in ways Bluey’s own family wasn’t.
Bluey’s ears pin back somewhat as the phone starts ringing again. “You want me to pick up on this one-?”
“It’s not your job, Blues.” Charla insists gently back, shifting to press a kiss against her partner’s chin.
“Shouldn’t be your job either. You left that bunk behind.” Bluey groused in turn, squinting at the phone as if it held the secrets of the universe.
Charla smiled up at her wife, fond and charmed all the same. “I also know if you pick up, you’ll give my brother a piece of your mind.”
“More than a few pieces.” Bluey huffs back. “Might even teach the gronk a few new swears he’s never heard before.” She rests a hand against her hip watching the phone rattle across the countertop.
The blue heeler doesn’t argue as Charla picked up the cell phone. “Hello, Chip-“ Charla manages that much, before her brother butts in.
“Why weren’t you answering!? C’mon, Charla! Don’t ignore my phone calls!”
Charla clicks her teeth together. She can feel Bluey tensing against her. The taller woman has a decent fuse for most things. Minus dealing with Charla’s brother. “I’ve had my phone off most of the day.” Charla winces at the excuse, not sure why that popped out of her first and foremost. Even now she was stuck on making excuses. Old defensive reflexes were hard to break, even with time and distance.
“Actually have your phone on for once, c’mon, Charla.” Chip grouses back, “It’s the 21st century! It’s not my fault you decided to just move to the middle of nowhere! I’m trying to reach you! Answer for once!”
“It’s Australia-“ Charla starts before sighing, stopping herself. There was no point in arguing. “Chip, what do you need?”
There is a long delay. Almost long enough to make Charla think the call has dropped. Chip breaths into the receiver, stumbling a little over his words. “It’s… dad. He’s sick.”
That sentence stalls Charla for a moment. She opens and closes her mouth, feeling uncomfortable in a way she can’t articulate.
“What?”
“It’s bad Charla, he’s really sick.” This was one of the few times Charla had heard her brother actually sound shaken since they were children. “Mom and Chubbly are back home, since it’s really bad.”
Charla’s grip tightened on her cellphone. “Is he… dying?” She hates how weak her voice sounds. Charla can feel Bluey tightening her grip around her.
“Yeah.” Chip answers, shockingly meekly. He clearly hadn’t just dwelled on it enough to admit it. “Yeah, he is.”
“Shit.” Charla breathes out softly. “How long does he have…? What’s happening to him? Is it cancer-?”
“I don’t know, Charla, not that long!” Of course Chip didn’t know much. He left any real thinking or care to their mom, and his wife. He was busy trying to be just like their father to really make his own opinions.
“Are you at home now?” Even now, some part of her still called her parents home, well home. It was ingrained in a way. She had grown up there. A home she had pined for before finding a new place all her own.
“I’m almost there. Chloe is with the kids right now in the car. I needed to tell you.”
“Thanks- thanks for calling, Chip.” She stumbles over her words. Her minds is spinning wildly. Too many thoughts were colliding together. She wasn't sure what to say, or do. She never expected their dad would get sick. Much less get cancer. He had outlived his own father by a decade and seemed likely to outlive his own children out of spite.
“At least call mom and dad, and get your butt back here.”
Charla can’t help the strained laugh that escapes her. Her chest tightens as she finds her voice stuck in her throat. Chip made it seem so simple. In his mind she could just waltz back into their childhood home like nothing had happened. She could just click back into place. The good eldest child. The dutiful daughter. She would fold her hands and just go back to what was expected of her.
Charla had cut their parents off a very long time ago. She tried to keep her brothers in the loop, but they always told their parents what she was doing. It was a frustrating experience. She couldn’t trust any of them with anything with her life. They wanted to pull her back into their secular circle. A world Charla didn’t fit into. She had tried for so long, desperately wanting to fit the model they expected of her. She just never measured up. No matter how often she prayed. No matter how much she did to prove her worth. “Don’t tell me what to do, Chip.”
“You can’t just ignore this like you do with everything, Charla! Get over yourself-“ Chip sounds exactly like their father. Holier than thou. Ready to dole out a lecture about righteousness and expectations. why can't you be a good daughter-
Charla hangs up the call aggressively, clutching her phone in her fist. The urge to toss the phone is a strong one. Bluey’s hand reaches out to gingerly uncurl her fist from around the phone. The larger paw is gentle.
“Careful there, lovey. You’re gonna hurt yourself.” Bluey says softly back, helping the chinchilla loosen her grasp.
“Right.” Charla blinked, gladly letting her wife take the cellphone out of her hand. The blue heeler placed the phone back onto the counter. She paused before draping a wash cloth over it. Charla can't help but find the reaction sweet. Even if the warmth it brings is fleeting. The reality of the situation feels like a noose tightening around her neck.
“How we feeling?”
“Bad.” Charla answers before a strained laugh escapes her. This wasn’t a normal thing to even say. “God- that’s stupid-“
“Hey, bad is a fair start.” Bluey offers softly back, “This is some real bad news, scary even. It is a lot to take in. You can't be a wordsmith all the time when things are nasty.” The taller woman is steady, calming. Charla finds herself sniffling as she leans back into her spouse.
“What am I supposed to do?” She whispers.
“You don’t need to answer that yet.” Bluey says softly back, “Lets focus on right now, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Charla chokes out weakly. Her wife taking the proverbial reins is a relief. Bluey was always a comforting presence in her life. A calming force that grounded her. Someone Charla trusted to lead the way to safety in any storm. Charla fought for her independence, but she knew she could release the reins when Bluey was here. “Yeah.”
“I can make a couple decisions for ya, until you feel like you got things back.” She wraps her arms around the chinchilla. “I got ya. Always got ya. My whole family has ya.”
Charla slumps into Bluey’s hold. “Please.”
“I’m gonna get all of this put away, and we’ll get take away for the night. Pretty sure the girls won’t mind it too much.” Bluey states simply enough, earning a soft chuckle from Charla. “You’re gonna draw yourself a long bath and soak until I come get ya. Put on those crime podcasts you like, the gruesome ones-“ She wiggles her fingers alongside the word gruesome and it earns a giggle from Charla.
“My podcasts aren’t that bad.” Charla insists, happy to fall back into an old argument. Something silly they bantered about with no real hint of frustration or malice. Both of them had wildly different interests, and teased each other about it on occasion. Charla the sporty jock between them loved a good murder podcast whilst Bluey chased her more artistic career.
“Says the shiela who listens to stories where there is bloods and guts everywhere.” She presses a kiss against the top of Charla’s head. “You get your bath and murder stories, maybe even some candles, those scented ones. We got lavender and vanilla in the cupboard above the bath. I’ll come get ya, and we’ll do a full pajama party with the girls.”
“I’d love that.”
“You get yourself up to the bath, I’ll dig up all the footies pajamas.” Bluey dipped in to press a kiss against her wife’s forehead. The blue heeler shooed the chinchilla aside, working on cleaning up the kitchen. Bluey makes a point to bury the phone in a few more wash cloths along the way. If she's lucky, it won't ring again.
If she's unlucky enough to have it ring, well, Chip will get an earful.
---
“The oaf called again after I got Charla and the kids all relaxed. I told him to get stuffed.” Bluey grouses into her phone. Leaning heavily back against the tree behind her. The evening air was rife with bugs, but Bluey didn’t particularly care. Her animal onesie and jumper was giving her enough coverage she wasn’t a buffet for any of them. “Bingo, I don’t know how Charla deals with this bunk.”
“A lot of patience.” Bingo pauses, before adding with a giggle, “I mean, she did marry you.”
“Oy, mate-“ The tease does make Bluey laugh a little. She swatted absently at a bug buzzing around her ears. “Don’t you start.”
“I’m just saying. You're a handful on good days.” Bingo teases softly back, before pushing onwards. “Have you talked with dad about it yet?”
“Mum and Dad are on their holiday, I don’t want to cut in with my own problems.” They couldn't backpack like they used to, but long cruises was something Chili managed to talk Bandit into once or twice.
“They’ll have good advice. They usually do.” Bingo persists, “You know what I’d say, which isn’t helpful if you want to make this work.”
“Yeah… Yeah. About the same thing I’d tell the drongo.”
“A good ole GFY feels fitting. Remember the disaster he caused at your engagement party?”
Bluey groaned a little, “Don’t remind me. Charla’s the only reason I didn’t knock his head right off his shoulders. I could’ve given him something to be sorry about.” Bluey can't completely shake the mental image of Chips smug face and Charla on the verge of tears. If not for cooler heads in the room, things would have gone sour.
“If you want my advice, I think you need to talk with Char Char and actually figure out what is the line in the sand.” Bluey can hear her younger sister pacing back and forth. Nervous energy she’s working out. Bingo was the gentler soul between them. Stress always did a number on her. “I love both of you, I’ll support whatever you do, but, you need to figure it out together.”
The blue heeler grumbled a little. “I hate it when you get all wise outta nowhere.”
“Someone had to pick it up from dad.”
Bluey blew a raspberry into the phone receiver earning a laugh from her sister. She smacked a bug aside with a grump. “I’ll call dad tomorrow. You get some rest, Bings.”
“Same to you, take a breather at least, sis.”
Bluey hung up the call, slumping further back against the tree. She can’t help but gaze out at the comforting sight of their backyard. The girls toys were scattered every which way. A hammock swayed in a slow breeze between the two trees in the yard. Charla’s garden was readying to bloom. Everywhere the heeler looked, the more she saw of Charla.
Plastic steps set up for the girls to use the hammock. The woven fabric braids dangling from the trees. The rainbow furniture on their back porch. The sunshine shaped mud mat by the backdoor. The mural painted on the back of their home.
Charla was an independent woman, a creative woman, a gentle and fierce woman in equal measure. That was what Bluey loved about her. She gave her all in everything she did. That was part of why Bluey fell for her in the first place. They had the same creative drive and passion for what they enjoyed. They matched each others energies.
Bluey pushed herself up from her spot on the ground, dusting herself off as she walked towards the house. She dusted her paws off at the familiar mat, hung her loose jumper by the door. She stashed her boots in the cubby near the door.
The heeler wasn’t the least bit surprised to find her wife curled up with their daughters in the pillow fort the family constructed earlier. Her head lulled against a pillow, snoring. The woman snored like a chainsaw. Bluey cherished the sound every night she got to hear it.
Carefully she moved to settle into the cuddle pile and wrap her arms around her family.
“I got ya.” She promises softly into Charla’s purple hair. “Always got you.”
The chinchilla sleepily hummed back, small nose twitching as she dreamed. The tension from the day was gone, in its place was peace.
That was all Bluey wanted to give Charla. It’s what the other woman deserved.
---
With an uncertain wobble, Charla brings her bike to a full stop. Clammy hands manage to yank her helmet up and off her head. Her ears spring up and out of the helmet, leaving her hair and fur a mess. The sweat gathering at the back of her neck was sign enough she had gone on a bit too long with her morning trip. Her fur was probably sweatier than she liked it to be.
Her throat was dry. “Damn.” She coughed, shaking her head to try and ease the next cough she felt creeping up her throat. Charla tucked the helmet under her arm, plucking her bottle from its holster on her bike to take a swig.
She wasn’t that far from home, but, she needed the drink.
Maybe she just needed the time to think.
Charla still wasn’t sure if she was going to go back or not. Some part of her still loved her parents and always would. Another part of her rankled at the idea of giving up her freedom to see her father.
He had screamed at her the day she left. Every unkind cruel thing he could muster spilled out of him. He crushed her with his words, disowned her so easily.
Charla remembered crying desperately, begging god for years to fix her to be what they wanted of her. Yet… it never happened. She remained the willful daughter, the unruly child who couldn’t be contained so easily. She couldn’t make herself small enough to be correct. Every other girl seemed to be able to be what god needed, but she couldn’t be that.
She ran. Her Christian college was forgotten in favor of fleeing. Couch surfing where she could.
She ran through America, traveled through Europe, found a home in Australia on a whim. Long backpacking trips and odd jobs left to a home Charla loved desperately.
The idea of giving it up and walking back into the house she ran from felt like losing her freedom. Losing herself all over again. It felt like she was giving herself back to her father. She knew her father, he would gladly assert himself over her again. Remind her of her place. Sick or not, he ground obedience into all of them.
“He’ll probably try to set me up with some random guy from their church as soon as I cross the damn border.” She mutters into the lip of her water bottle. She takes another long swig before tucking the bottle back in its holster. She locks the water bottle into place out of habit before dragging a hand through her fur. She needed a shower. Maybe a good hosing off in the yard.
She started walking the bike home, feeling too tired to ride it any longer. Charla nodded at neighbors, managing a smile once or twice in her wake. Charla would catch up with the neighbors later. A good chat and things would be fine enough. Not like any of them would question why she didn't stop for a talk. These were good people.
She didn’t want to go back.
She couldn’t.
No matter what her parents wanted of her, or expected of her. Charla had her own life here. Her own family. Her daughters needed her.
Bluey needed her.
The sound of the gate opening and her bike being hauled into the yard was enough for the two seven year olds to dart out of the house. Both girls were wild eyed and covered in something Charla hoped was paint.
“Mum!”
“Mummy!”
The chinchilla had enough time to get her bike out of the way as two little chinchillas collided with her legs. Both were talking a mile a minute, eager and happy to see her. Charla gladly crouched down to wrap her arms around both girls, burying her face against their heads for a moment. “Coraline, Banjo- there you are.” She pressed a few kisses against both girls heads.
Bluey darted out of the door a moment later, covered in pink paint. “Char! You’re back early!”
“Felt like I went out long enough. Though, it seems like I interrupted something?” She questioned back, smiling at the heeler.
“It’s a surprise!” Banjo says easily, “A super surprise!”
“A mega duper super surprise!” Coraline continues eagerly, her tail waggling behind her. Her large ears perked up as she spoke. Neither girls ears drooped in the way Charla’s did. They never had the need to feel small.
“Is it now…?” Charla questioned, arching a brow back at Bluey. Her wife looked marginally embarrassed at being caught. Not that it lasted long.
“Remember how you wanted to redecorate the living room a little-? Well…” Bluey awkwardly gestured behind herself. “Come look.” Charla carefully rose from her crouch, taking both girls hands in her own as they followed after Bluey.
The blue heeler nudged the door open a bit further, holding it for her girls. Charla was on the verge of giving her wife a hard time until she saw the back wall of their living room. The plain blue walls had been painted a softer yellow color. A thick squiggly lines of rainbow weaved its way across the wall, disappearing into a messy array of glow in the dark stars the girls had clearly applied. The stars dotted the edges of the doorway in a messy manner. Higher up, neater ones has been placed by Bluey.
The rainbow wrapped around the rest of the living room. Bluey had assumed Charla would be out for a good while with how much she was planning. This was the kind of room Charla had always wanted. From their first apartment to this home, she always talked about adding more rainbows everywhere.
“You… oh, girls.” Charla bit her bottom lip, trying to stop tears from springing up.
“Are those good tears, mummy?” Banjo questioned softly.
“Very good tears.” Charla promises softly back, sniffling. “Thank you. Thank you-“ Both girls clutched at Charla’s legs, clinging to her. Bluey stepped forward to wrap all of them in a hug.
“We love ya, and you deserve the world, Char.”
“You are my world, you- goofs.” She can’t help but laugh and cry all at once.
This was her home. This would always be her home. She wasn’t about to give it up. Even if her family expected it of her.