Chapter Text
She could tell right away, even at her age, that he was unhappy. He tried to hide it - lots of people tried to hide it when they felt bad - but they never did a good enough job to fool her. And her new daddy was even worse at it than most people were. Sure, he smiled and had a cheerful tone in his voice when he asked if she wanted to come live with him, but he was fidgeting, and there was something off at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes weren't quite focusing on her.
But she understood. He was going through hard times, just like her old daddy had been. A lot of people were. And even though he was having a hard time, he was trying really hard to make the times not quite so hard for her, now that both her parents had vanished. Beneath it he was as scared and upset as she was, maybe more so, although she didn't quite understand what he was so upset about.
It was the least she could do to give him back the brightest smile she had and tell him not to worry. So what if she was just a kid? She'd been born into a family business, and she knew that all you needed to make it in the world was to have a good talent agent. And all a talent agent did was smile a lot, talk about how awesome you were, and make you sound even more awesome. She could do that - it was easy. When she told him so, and reached out, offering her hand to shake on the deal, she felt him tense for a moment... but then his eyes grew warmer, and that thing that had been bothering her about the corner of his mouth straightened out. For the first time since they'd met, he was happy. And she did it.
---
He'd been crying. Of course she could tell, even though by the time she got home from school, his eyes were only a little bit red. But for her, he made himself smile anyway and asked how was her day, and if she wanted a snack. She nodded, but told him she could get it herself. Not that there was anything in the kitchen besides a banana, some cold cuts, and half a loaf of bread.
Maybe that was why he'd been crying, but she didn't think so. It wasn't that unusual.
Still, she wanted to help. She came back out and sat on the couch beside him, and once he'd settled himself better and she'd swallowed the big bite of banana, she had a suggestion for that part. "You know, sometimes when we were out on the road, my old daddy would realize he didn't have money for food. But it was no big deal, because Uncle Valant would just make food appear with his magic. I bet I could do it too, if you want me to."
For some reason, the offer didn't seem to cheer her daddy up at all. Actually, he looked like he was going to start crying again.
---
It seemed like a lot of her efforts to cheer her daddy up weren't having the effect she was hoping for, but she kept trying. She went into possible venues after school and tried to book shows. It was frustrating that no one took her seriously just because she was still in elementary school, but she'd make them listen. Because her daddy sure wasn't going to be any help there.
It wasn't that he didn't want to get a job. She knew better. They hadn't known each other for very long, true, but she'd managed to piece together that the main reason he was so unhappy had to do with him having lost his old job. And it was also pretty obvious that losing that job had made him feel like he wasn't anything special. Like he was no good at all.
On the other hand, her job as his new agent was, of course, to sell him. So her first task was to sell her daddy to himself - talking him up, praising his good points, glossing over his failings, until he had to agree that he was actually a really amazing person. Maybe then he'd help.
And she didn't have to look too far to find the good points. He was a really great dad - he didn't buy her as many toys and props as her first daddy had, maybe, but he would watch TV with her, instead of just leaving her to it. He always asked how her day was, and really listened when she told him. He came to her at night if she had a nightmare, and climbed in to sleep next to her to make sure she felt safe. And he played games with her. Even if he didn't get into magic wars with her like her old daddy, he knew a lot of other really fun games, like 'Tickle Monster'. And when they were playing together, he really was having fun - his laugh was real, his smile was real, even if at all other times, it wasn't quite honest. There were plenty of good things about having him as a daddy, and she tried to remind him of them anytime he looked unhappy.
Even after she'd managed to sell him to the owner of a Russian-themed restaurant on a slightly different set of talking points, she hadn't managed that first task yet. But maybe having that job would help.
---
One job was all people really needed, she reasoned. Lots of people got by with just one job. So now that she had a job and her daddy had a job, they should be rich. Two jobs in one family should make them more money than they'd ever need. So her daddy getting that job was definitely cause for a party, even if Mr. Gavin was all stuffy and called it a 'celebration' instead. It was still a party, and she was a little bit annoyed that they had decided to send her off to a friend's house for the evening instead of letting her have cake and punch with them. She liked parties, and she wanted to see her daddy happy for once.
So when Maria's parents dropped her off at nine and saw her safely upstairs, Trucy waved goodbye and smiled widely as she opened the Agency's door, excited about the party. Even if she was only going to get leftovers. And there would definitely be leftovers, because the party was only Daddy and Mr. Gavin.
The wide smile faltered when she entered to find her daddy sprawled face-down on the couch, mumbling into Mr. Gavin's lap. There was a funny smell, and it made her feel kind of sick. It reminded her of when her mommy had disappeared - that's right, that was when she'd smelled that smell before. She'd been off looking for Mommy, and come back to the hotel room to find that Uncle Valant must have done the same, because he was so tired he'd fallen asleep on the table. Daddy looked exhausted too, and he couldn't talk right when he told Trucy how much he loved her. And he talked about Uncle Valant, using words that Mommy had said he shouldn't use around Trucy, but maybe he was just so tired that he forgot, and Trucy was too nervous to say so, because Daddy felt weird.
The memory was so strong that she just stood there in the doorway, watching Mr. Gavin pet her daddy's hair as he lay there talking about something she couldn't really make out, except that it seemed to be very sad because he sounded like he was about to cry. Finally Mr. Gavin looked up, and gave her a small smile, and even that small smile was fake. Like the ones Daddy still sometimes gave her. "I apologize for what you've walked in on, Trucy," he told her, calmly, and at least the calm was real. "Your father's a little bit... tired after dinner."
She just nodded. There was something wrong, something felt really wrong, and she was kind of scared - but she tried not to let it show.
"Truce...?" her daddy mumbled, lifting his head and turning it, and he had been crying. "Hey, honey... I'm okay. Okay? ...Okay," he finished, answering his own uncertain question.
Trucy nodded again, and slowly approached the couch as Mr. Gavin helped her daddy sit up. "I suppose it's time I take my leave," Mr. Gavin told him gently. "Do you need help getting to bed first?"
He shook his head, and Trucy answered for him. "We only have one bed here - he always sleeps on the couch anyway." But then she looked him over. "Daddy, you don't look so good... do you want to sleep in the bed tonight?"
"'M fine," he told her. Not a very good act at all. "Couch is fine. It's all fine."
Trucy was absolutely unconvinced, so after Mr. Gavin let himself out, Trucy stayed there on the couch with her daddy, and let him talk. Even if it was scaring her, how much he sounded like her old daddy had after her mother disappeared, and the smell she'd noticed earlier was even stronger on his breath than it had been in the air.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, and his eyes were too bright. "'M sorry I'm such a bad dad."
"You aren't a bad dad," she told him, not allowing her voice to shake one bit.
"I am," he insisted, gesturing awkwardly. "Pay the rent and can't get food... get the food and can't get the rent... catch up on the rent and the electric's overdue..."
"Well, maybe," she said, matter-of-fact. "That doesn't mean you're a bad daddy. It just means we don't make enough money. But now we're both working, right? So everything will be just fine now."
"I hope so, honey... I hope so. ...Didn't know it would be this hard..."
His voice was fading, so Trucy got up to get her pillow and blanket off of her bed, bringing them back to the couch. Making him lie down, she tucked the pillow under his head and spread the blanket over him, because he was too tired to do it himself, and kept apologizing. None of it made him comfortable, though, and finally she crawled under the blanket herself and curled up next to him as he murmured more apologies. He smelled like sweat as she buried her face in his chest, but that was all right. She'd rather smell that than the sickly-sweet smell that reminded her of the day her mommy vanished, and she burrowed closer.
"Sorry, Truce... sorry."
"It's okay," she kept telling him, over and over, until he fell asleep, and then she could fall asleep too.
---
Her shows were twice a week now, Wednesdays and Fridays. She always looked forward to those days; she loved performing. The audience loved her. It was what she'd been born to do, of course - get up on a stage and do her magic act and get applause.
Daddy had seemed pretty impressed, at first. He came with her, to look out for her, and to make sure she knew that no matter what happened, even if something went wrong, there was someone on her side. Not that anything would ever go wrong, given how much she rehearsed, but she appreciated his being there.
For awhile, anyway. It wasn't that he wasn't still supportive. He still cheered her on and smiled, but...
She could smell it on him afterwards, when they walked home together. That same smell, and she thought she knew what it was.
"Daddy," she began to ask one night, "what's that stuff you drink at the show?"
It was just a simple question, so she didn't know why he flinched. A moment later, he raised his head, shoving the hand that wasn't holding hers deep into the pocket of his jacket. "It's a grown-up thing, honey."
Trucy was confused. "...And you're a grown-up. So why are you nervous all of a sudden?"
"I'm not nervous."
"You won't look at me when you answer."
He looked at her then, but then away quickly. The grin he forced as he made himself look back, deliberately rather than naturally, would have been more than enough to prove her point. "Hon... why are you asking about something like that?"
"It smells funny," she told him plainly. "I don't like it."
He reached up, scratched his head. "...It's kind of an acquired taste."
"Huh?"
"That means it doesn't taste very good at first, but after a while, you get used to it."
She made a face. "If it doesn't taste good at first, why would you keep drinking it?"
He hesitated before he found an answer. "It... makes me feel better."
"Better than what?" His tone of voice actually sounded worse than it had a second ago. Quiet, kind of like he was ashamed of something, and she was getting a little worried. "Is something wrong?"
"Not really." His wary glance down at her again showed him that she was staring at him seriously, and he quickly shook his head, averting his eyes again. "...Okay, so I worry a lot, honey. About... well, more grown-up things, like... money, and careers, and..." He shrugged. "...things."
He was usually better with words than this. It seemed like the more he smelled like that stuff he was drinking, the worse he got. But on the other hand... "It makes you not worry so much?"
"Something like that."
"Hmm..." Trucy frowned, thinking hard. "I guess... that's why you drink it even if it doesn't taste so good?"
"Well, it does grow on you." He looked down at her again, though, and this time he looked serious, if a little sleepy. "But listen - it's not good for you. That's why it's a grown-up thing. When someone drinks it, they have to be careful, and not drink too much. So it's just for grown-ups."
Well, as long as he knew to be careful, Trucy supposed that was okay then. "Okay," she told him with a smile. "I still think it stinks anyway."
She was pleased when he laughed softly, but his smile was wistful when he quieted. "...I should probably stop drinking it myself," he muttered.
But he didn't.