He walked into the “living room” of their quarters, at least if she hadn’t decided to throw him out.  His plan of construction has involved adding almost four times the amount of square footage to their “house.”  Originally Livy had a small bedroom, Amelia had a bigger one, and they shared a bathroom and a wall.  Given the original base design, it was the best he could do on short notice after they got here during the Anubis Incident, which was the middle of the missions to Argenti.

After that, they’d been living in his apartment in downtown Crosswook, so it hadn’t really mattered.  The move back hadn’t been exactly planned, and, well, basically there had been two small bedrooms, a decent shared bathroom, and a living room with doors to the bedrooms.

The remodel had taken longer than he had really planned, because he has been a minimalist, but he wanted to do this right for his family so, Livy had helped a bit, Amelia a lot more but it was also relaxing so he took his time for once. Maybe he shouldn’t have.

He’d intended for the spare room off the master closet to be a, well, whatever Amelia wanted to do with it so it was one of the last things to finish and while he’d used a bunch of the old base’s framing to make a wood floor, that’s as far as he’d gotten with all of the sanding and then coats he needed to put on it. It had a door to the hallway, but with Olivia’s injuries he’d put a bed in there, and a chair, and of course a damn screen with video games to keep her from going completely crazy.

Procrastination never had been really his thing, but he didn’t really want to talk to Amelia at the moment, not quite yet anyway, so he walked silently into his daughter’s temporary room.

---

 

Temporary or not, he thought, as he sat in the chair in the corner, he’d had to move the clothes thrown over it, both clean and dirty.  The room was a about as dirty already as a wild bluey roaming the out outback but, ……it smelled of Livy, so it was hard for him to care.  In this, he didn’t need to be the hardass.

She muttered in her sleep, and twisted, and he could tell she’d moved in a way that caused pain as her breathing altered, and the muttered “Fuck a ‘roo” was a pretty clear indication too.

He could easily hear the other muttered imprecations as she tried to find a spot that didn’t ache with the collossal bruising.

“Can I help?”

“Root a chook, Dad, what the…..I mean, if ya want.”

In single step, he was standing next to her bed, and scooped her up with one strong arm while he propped the pillows up, before using both hands to cautiously lay her back down with the pillows supporting her damaged side.

“Mus’ be nice,” she says as he starts to stand up, but then at her comment sits on edge of her bed.

“What’s that?”

“Dunno, strength, superhealin’.  I’m still layin’ here like a dying ‘roo and yer out catchin’ bad supes.”

“I guess.”

“Ya guess?” she asks incredulously.  “Are ya mad?”

He sighs before looking at her.  “It kept me from ya and yer Mum.   Not sure it was a good trade.”

“Ya are mad!  I’d…..” she stops suddenly.

“Ya’d make the trade?”  He takes her hand.  “Its fine, kiddo, its what I thought at yer age, not about powers, course, because who knew that, but about the army.  I was gonna……save Australia I guess.”

After a long minute of silence, she shrugged awkwardly, “How was yer date?”

---

 

She’d woken up at the sounds of conversation, since the closet doors were open, the murmured conversation carried right into their bedroom.  So, she listened.

“Good until……we had a bit of a blue, well, more than a bit.”

“With Mum?”

“Yea, I mean, no, not really.  Kind of wi’ everyone.”

“Everyone?  Like who?”

“Everyone…..”

“Why?” A long pause.  She didn’t think he was going to answer.

“Because……….I don’t know, kiddo.  Sometimes adults……,” she hears him take a deep shuddering breath, “sometimes I get really angry, act like I’m three bangers short of a Barbie and then I do bloody stupid things and act like a right arsehole.”

Nothing but silence for a long while, in fact she’s about to get out of bed, when she hears a quiet, “Dad……..sometimes I do too.”

 Silence again…..”Well, maybe we can figure it out together.” Another pause, “Well, I’m goin’ to go face the music, or at least the first stanza, and see if yer Mum wants to go for a run.”

“That sounded right bonkers.”

“Us runnin’?”

“First stanza? Who bloody talks like that?”

“Funny.” He shrugs, “If yer ready to try, we’ll be back in thirty minutes and you can go out with us and start to begin recovery. Or I’ll come back and get ya for brekkie afterwards.”

“I’m ready.”

“I really am proud of ya kiddo, even if yer as stubborn as a ‘roo.

“Well, I’m an Anderson.”

“Yes, yes ya are,” came the soft reply.