Disclaimer: I owe absolutely nothing! And if I did...yeah, you know ^^

A/N: Thanks to Cabinet of Curiosities who corrected for me! This story just popped into my head after watching too much The Mentalist and with my family the movie 'Chicken Little' (don't know what'd got into me)...
I'm not quite sure but perhaps I was a bit inspired by Misery Loves Sarah's fanfic 'Imperfect world'.

It's different somehow and maybe I've overdone it this time a bit but anyway, ENJOY!

Without you

She crushed the door of the main entrance open with such a force, the wood cracked in its angles. Without looking back she crossed the wide hall and stormed up the stairs, the sound of her angry food steps echoing in the high room. Her father, who'd followed her up the path to the doors, entered the building merely seconds later.

"Ashley, wait," John shouted after her, but she had already disappeared around the corner. There was no doubt were she was heading.

As on cue, John could hear a door being slammed shut somewhere in the upper part of the Sanctuary where the quarters were. Sighing, he closed his eyes and combed his right hand through his messy hair. Sometimes he asked himself if he did something wrong or if she would make it better.

Of course she would, he told himself sadly. She always knew what to do.

His sad thoughts were interrupted by a panting Henry, who seemed to have heard the loud noises coming from the entrance hall. As he saw John standing in the door, with hanging shoulders, and recognized his expression he could imagine what had been going on. Smiling reassuringly he walked over to the taller man until he was standing next to him and looked at the space were Ashley had most likely disappeared.

"She'll snap out of it," he said, but it didn't sound as convincing as he'd intended. "She always does…"

"I know, it's just that…" John paused, not really knowing how to continue. Instead he closed his eyes again and inhaled deeply to push down the emotions threatening to break to the surface. As he'd somewhat regained his composure John reached behind him to close the door before he turned back to the technician.

"Thank you, Henry," he said with a sad smile before making his way to his office. Until now this day hadn't been a good one and it didn't look like this was going to change any time soon.

Looking down at the pile of papers lying on his desk John suddenly felt very tired. Even though he'd managed to work his way through a lot of files before he'd picked up Ashley the pile didn't seem to lose any of its height. He could feel the lack of sleep beginning to catch up with him and he decided he would do the rest later.

Since Will had left two weeks ago to go on holiday for one and a half months, it had been John's task to do all the paperwork. Usually, they divided the work between them so it wasn't too much for both of them.

Even though John would have had the opportunity to run everything alone it had been better to bring Will into the job. Looking back now John couldn't imagine doing it on his own the whole time and caring for his now 12 year-old daughter. It wasn't like he didn't like spending time with her, no. He would give everything to make Ashley happy, even if it would ruin him. After all, she was everything he had left.

He rubbed his hand over his face and his tired eyes before running it through his dark hair again. A gesture he'd grown quite used to. As he rose to get up from his chair at his desk, the framed picture standing beside his computer caught his eye and he couldn't stop himself from staring at it longingly.

In it was a woman and a laughing little girl smiling brightly into the camera. The woman had her brown hair arranged so it cascaded down her shoulders in light curls. Her smile was one he would never forget and never grow tired of. It awoke memories which seemed to be the only things keeping him sane sometimes and giving him hope. Even if everything seemed lost.

The little girl had her arms slung tight around her mother's neck and her blond locks framed her face like a halo. Her blue eyes were the perfect copy of those of her mother's. The blue dress she wore was decorated with little flowers spread all over the fabric. Ashley had just turned nine when the picture had been taken.

It was the last one he'd got to take with her in it.

He reached forward and caressed the picture tenderly before grabbing his phone from the desk and crossing the room. As he reached the door he glanced back one last time before turning off the light and closing the door behind him.

John headed down towards the kitchen, stopping by Henry's lab to check on him and telling him good-night. Biggie would be doing the security check tonight so he'd have time now. A glance at his watch told him it was only ten past nine, so Ashley would be still awake.

As he reached the kitchen, he went immediately over to the cupboard and took out the cocoa and grabbed a spoon. He then opened the fridge and got a bottle of milk. He then reached under the sink and took out one of the smaller pots and started to make hot chocolate on one of the hot plates.

When the hot chocolate had cooled down a bit, John took two cups from the cupboard and filled them with the brown liquid. He added a bit of whipped cream to both cups and carried them up the stairs, walking very carefully to not spill anything.

As he reached the door John slowly took both cups into the left hand so he had the other hand free. He used it to gently knock on the wooden door. As no response came, he raised his hand again but changed his mind and instead slowly pushed the door open.

Inside, John saw what he'd expected to see. Ashley was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed and her back turned to him. Though he couldn't make out her face he was sure it was red from crying. In her hands she held something that looked like a chain with a silver locket attached to it. John didn't need to ask what was inside the locket; he knew it only too well.

He entered the room without a word and closed the door behind him silently. Closing the distance between them to stand beside her bed he gave her time to start talking. As that didn't happen and she continued fumbling with the chain he sighed again.

"Ashley?" he asked quietly before sitting down on her bed. "Talk to me, please. There's no use in bottling things up…"

But instead of answering she only dropped her head and looked down at her lap. She knew it wasn't fair to treat her father like this but she really didn't want to talk. She was just angry and most of all very sad. Was it that wrong wanting to grieve for somebody you missed dearly? No, it certainly wasn't. But people who didn't share the same loss often couldn't understand it.

But he can, Ashley reminded herself. If there's someone who understands me it's him.

Although her father was good in hiding his feelings, especially from her, Ashley could see her own grief and sorrow reflected in his eyes. Sometimes it was almost too much to bear. Suddenly feeling bad about her behavior towards her father who was still helplessly sitting on the edge of her bed, Ashley slowly turned around.

She accepted the cup of hot chocolate he offered without meeting his gaze. John could only imagine what was going on in her head. He watched her sip at her hot chocolate and suppressed a smile as the whipped cream left a white line over her upper lip.

He drank from his own cup before turning his attention back to her. "Are you going to tell me what happened at school?"

Ashley stiffened for a moment before firmly replying. "Nothing."

John nodded absently. "So, I was summoned to the school and had a talk with the principal because…?"

"They know nothing!" Ashley said angrily. "Nonetheless, they talk about me, you and this place. Talk about her…" Her voice had taken on a slightly desperate tone and she'd clenched her still warm cup in a hard grip.

"Sometimes I accidentally hear them whispering when they don't think I'm listening. Sometimes they make sure I'm in earshot and every word is unmistakably meant to hurt."

"They provoked you," John pointed out, shaking his head about the behavior of his daughter's classmates. It wasn't the first time he'd had to pick up Ashley from the principal's office, but this time she'd got school suspension. He knew it wasn't really her fault, but she'd been the first to strike and therefore had been punished and held accountable.

"They have no right," Ashley exclaimed heatedly.

John, who couldn't bear to see her so troubled, moved closer and opened his arms to her. Ashley thought for a moment, her jaw clenched and her eyebrows puckered, before she moved into his embrace.

He hugged her close and they both sipped their hot chocolate in silence. The warmth flowing down her throat and warming her body was calming and her dad holding her close conveyed comfort for Ashley. When she'd finished her cup she curled into a small ball in his arms and rested her head in his lap, slowly feeling sleep enveloping her.

Her father stroke her hair tenderly in a comforting gesture and for a short moment Ashley imagined it was another person.

"I miss her," she whispered silently.

"I know," John replied sadly and continued caressing her head and back to lull her deeper to sleep. "I miss her, too."

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