{{char}} trudges through the front door, exhaustion pressing on her shoulders from a particularly grueling day. Her jeans are stained with dirt, his t-shirt clinging to his sweaty skin. God, I'm fucking exhausted... She haphazardly tosses her keys onto the entryway table, hearing the familiar chaos that always greets her. It’s the sound of home—a mess of voices, footsteps, and the distant thrum of a TV nobody's really watching. Roland is stretched out on the couch, a cloud of smoke hovering over him. {{char}}’s eyes narrow at the sight of the joint in her brother’s hand. “You serious, Roland? Inside the house?” Roland takes a slow drag, not even bothering to sit up. “Chill, sis. I’ve got the window open.” He gestures lazily toward the barely cracked window behind him. {{char}} glares, but the fight drains out of her before it even starts. Not today. Not after the day I’ve had. Archie bursts into the room from the hallway, phone pressed to his ear, talking fast. “Yeah, yeah, I can get it to you by tomorrow—no, tonight, if you really need it. Just double the price. Yeah? Done.” He ends the call, a satisfied smirk on his face as he pockets his phone. {{char}} levels a sharp look at him. “What’s the hustle this time, Archie?” Archie grins, already slipping toward the door. “Don’t worry about it, sis. It’s money, alright? All legit, all legit.” He’s out the door before {{char}} can even think to argue. Like hell it’s legit. One day he’s gonna get himself arrested. A loud crash comes from the kitchen, followed by Daryl’s voice “It wasn’t me!” {{char}} doesn’t even have to look to know that her 12-year-old brother has probably broken something again, most likely playing with that damn lighter. Sure enough, when {{char}} steps into the kitchen, there’s Daryl sitting at the table, his lighter in one hand and a shattered glass on the floor beside him. Sylvie, nose buried in a book nearby, doesn’t even look up from the pages, and Beverly’s too engrossed in her Picasso act to notice much of anything happening around her. “Daryl,” {{char}} grits out, rubbing her temples. “What did I say about messing with fire in the house?” Daryl gives her an innocent look, flipping the lighter shut. “It wasn’t fire this time. Just...gravity.” “Cute,” {{char}} snaps, bending down to pick up the pieces of broken glass. Her hands are rough and tired, and for a second, all she wants to do is lie down and forget the world exists. But there’s no time for that. Not with this circus. Not when she's needed. She's always needed. From the living room, Roland pipes up “We gonna order pizza or something? I’m starving.” “We ordered pizza two days ago,” Sylvie mutters, still buried in her book. “Can't we eat something with actual nutrients for once?” {{char}} stands up, tossing the broken glass into the trash. “Anyone eaten anything remotely real today, or am I gonna have to make dinner again to make sure that happens?” She’s already heading for the fridge, not waiting for an answer, because she knows they haven't. The fridge door creaks open, practically empty as usual. Great. Looks like it’s me and whatever’s left in here. She glances over her shoulder, her voice tired but holding that familiar edge of responsibility. “Anyone want to pitch in before I end up doing everything?” She gets a deafening silence in response. Figures. {{char}}'s gaze unconsciously shifts to the front door, hoping someone, anyone might show up and save him from her impending decent into madness.

Nicole jumps at the knock, startled for a moment before realizing it's just Daniel. She wipes her hands on her jeans and hurries to the door, opening it with a sigh of relief to see him standing there. His presence always brings a brief sense of normalcy, no matter how fleeting.

"Hey, Daniel," she says, giving him a tired smile. "What are you doing here?"

Behind her, the house is in its usual chaos: dishes piled high in the sink, dirty laundry scattered about the living room, and half-finished projects left untouched on every available surface. But for some reason, with Daniel here, it all feels more manageable. At least for now.

Daniel Sigsworth just gives her a knowing look as he walks inside, his boots making no sound against the wood floors. "I could ask you the same thing," he says, glancing around before sitting down on the couch. "You should tell me when you need a break from all this. Sometimes I think you forget how much you can lean on people."

The smile fades from her face as she registers what he's said. She lets out a humorless laugh and shakes her head, moving to the kitchen to put away the groceries before they go bad. "You didn't have to do that," she mutters, throwing the bags into the fridge. "I can manage."

She turns around, leaning against the counter as she crosses her arms over her chest. It's easier to keep her defenses up when he's not right in front of her. There are some people Nicole lets into her inner circle, and Daniel is one of them. He knows about the weight of her family's expectations, about the stress she carries, but even he can't always make it all disappear.

"It's no trouble," Daniel says, walking over to stand next to her. His voice is gentle, but there's a note of frustration in it too. "I know how much you do for them, Nicole. And I wish they appreciated it more."

She glances at him out of the corner of her eye. Even after everything she's been through with her family, she still finds herself comparing them to Daniel and his perfect-looking life: the stable job, the tidy house, the time for hobbies and relationships. Sometimes she wonders what it would be like to have even a fraction of that peace and stability in her own life.

"I'm not asking for thanks," she says with a sigh, looking down at her hands. "It's just...sometimes I feel like I'm drowning in all this responsibility. And no matter how hard I try to keep my head above water, it never seems to get any easier."

There's a moment of silence between them as they both contemplate the weight of their respective

Nicole takes a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing fractionally. "Okay," she says softly, the tension easing just enough for her to feel like she can breathe again. "That'd be great." She turns toward Daniel with a small smile, grateful for his offer of help and the simple human connection it represented.

Together, they begin prepping dinner: chopping vegetables, marinating meats, and setting out bowls of ingredients on the kitchen island. As they work side by side, there's an almost comfortable silence between them, as if they've done this dozens of times before. And maybe they have.

"You know," Daniel says eventually, glancing over at her, "you don't always have to be so tough." He pauses for a moment, searching for the right words. "I mean, I get it. Your family...they can be kind of messed up. But sometimes it's okay to let people in, you know? To lean on them when you need to."

Nicole laughs harshly, her gaze fixed on the cutting board in front of her as she begins chopping an onion. "Yeah," she says bitterly. "Easy for you to say. You've never had anyone take advantage of your good nature like I have." Her words are sharp, intended to push him away and protect herself from further hurt.

Daniel winces at her response, but he doesn't press the issue. Instead, he finishes prepping his vegetables in silence, throwing glances every so often to gauge Nicole's reaction. Finally, when they've finished preparing everything and are ready to start cooking, Daniel decides it's time for a new approach.

"Nicky..." he begins tentatively, using the

She stiffens at the use of her childhood nickname, immediately on edge. "What?" she snaps, not looking up from where she's stirring a pot on the stove. The sharp sound of the spoon hitting the bottom echoes through the kitchen.

Daniel sighs, knowing he's treading on thin ice here. He chooses his words carefully. "Look...I just want you to know that you don't have to be alone in this. I care about you, Nicole. And I'm here for you if you ever need me."

The silence stretches between them as they both wait for her response. Finally, she answers with a curt nod, still not meeting his eyes. "Thanks," she mumbles.

It's far from the apology or acceptance he'd hoped for, but Daniel knows that small victory must be enough for now. Together, they finish cooking dinner in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they work side by side. As they set out plates and utensils on the table, Nicole glances up at him with a small smile. It's almost like the old days, before everything went to hell and she had to become the strong one. But even then, he knew she wasn't truly alone. Not as long as he was there.

Nodding in agreement, Nicole moves to the living room to round up her siblings and make sure they're aware that dinner is almost ready. The chaos of her family always manages to surprise her; one moment it feels like everything might fall apart, and the next she finds herself laughing over some stupid joke or memory that only they could understand.

She returns to the kitchen, looking a little more composed now that everyone is accounted for. She glances at Daniel as he starts serving dinner, appreciating the support and understanding he's shown her tonight. It makes her feel less alone, even in the midst of all this craziness.

As they sit down to eat, there's a momentary lull in conversation as everyone focuses on their food. But it doesn't last long; with seven people packed into the tiny apartment, there are always stories to be shared and arguments to be had. Nicole tries her best to mediate when necessary, but sometimes she finds herself caught up in the fray, using humor or sarcasm as a defense mechanism against the weight of everyone's problems on her shoulders.

Throughout the meal, Daniel occasionally catches her eye and offers a reassuring smile or nod; tiny moments of connection that remind Nicole she's not alone in this messy life of hers. As they finish up dessert, she finds herself wondering what the future holds for all of them...and if things will ever truly get better. But for now, at least, she has Daniel to lean on when things feel too much.

Despite her earlier exhaustion and desire to just retreat into her own world, the dinner ends up being more enjoyable than usual. There's a strange sense of camaraderie in the air as everyone helps clean up, laughing about inside jokes and sharing stories from their day. Even Sylvie seems more animated, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

As Daniel and Nicole finish loading the dishwasher, she catches his eye over her shoulder. "Thanks for helping," she says softly. It's not just about the food or the cleanup; it's knowing that there's someone in her life who genuinely cares about her wellbeing and wants to see her happy.

The tension between them eases as they make their way back into the living room, where everyone else has settled down to watch TV. Daniel takes a seat next to Nicole on the couch, their shoulders almost touching. There's an understanding between them; they both know that things won't be easy for any of them, but as long as they have each other...

As the credits roll and everyone starts dispersing to their various rooms, Daniel gives her a reassuring squeeze on the arm. "It's gonna be okay," he says with quiet confidence. Nicole knows he can't possibly know that for certain, but it's nice to pretend sometimes.

She offers him a small smile in response before standing up and stretching her arms overhead. "Well, I should get to bed early. Tomorrow's another day." She hesitates for a moment before leaning in and giving him a quick peck on the cheek; a brief acknowledgment of their bond and her gratitude for everything he does.

"Get some sleep," he whispers back, returning the gentle touch with an