Archive of Our Own ^beta

She always looked so out of place, standing there in that hallway. Body clad in black leather, shoulder leaning up against the doorframe, huge sunglasses covering her eyes, black snakeskin boots scuffing the kitchen tile. 

    Rock ‘n’ roll against married wallpaper. 

Camila might’ve been intimidated if she didn’t love Karen Sirko so much. 

She smiled when the blonde pushed her sunglasses up into her hair and revealed her dark brown eyes, crinkled with affection. She immediately appeared softer. 

“Hi, Karen.” 

“Hey, Cami.” The blonde pushed herself off of the door frame and approached, throwing her arms around Camila’s waist and resting her chin on her shoulder; their usual embrace. 

“Got anything good on?” She murmured, gazing down at the pots and pans in front of them. Camila pointed to each: noting chicken, potatoes, beans, and gravy. Karen hummed in approval and kissed her cheek. “Very English.” She remarked. “Sounds delicious.”

“I try.” Camila replied. She turned to return the kiss to her cheek and smiled softly, breathing in her cigarettes and vanilla shampoo. “How was the recording?”

Karen shrugged and stepped out of the hug. “Alright. Daisy’s still high as a kite and Billy is…” she sighed. “… Billy .” 

Camila looked down. “Oh.” 

“I got the keys done. I think the only thing those two can actually agree on is that me and the boys can do our parts and fuck off.” She shook her head, sighed again, and kissed the back of Camila’s head. “Sorry. I’ll get the plates, yeah?”

“Thanks. What were they arguing about this time?”

“Duets, as per usual.”

“Anything new?”

Karen opened a cupboard and pulled three plates out. She set them down on the side. “Daisy wants to do one. Billy doesn’t. Nothing special. I was barely there for more than three hours before they started going at it. Teddy just let me do some press interviews for the rest of the day: people who have been trying to get hold of us for a while. I think the boys stayed, I don’t know.”

Camila set down a saucepan and turned, gently winding her arms around Karen’s neck, sighing. The blonde instinctively, tiredly, put her hands to the brunette’s hips. The corners of her mouth were turned downwards, seemingly sewn there with some invisible needle. Camila reached up and smoothed the crease between Karen’s brows before fondly kissing the spot. 

“You want a record on?” She asked quietly, lovingly. “Clear your mind?”

Karen nudged her nose against Camila’s, humming approval. “Just don’t make it one of mine, I beg.”

Camila laughed softly. “Okay then. Keep an eye on food?”

“Alright.”

Camila kissed her and headed through the archway into the living room. Karen listened out for her for a few minutes, smiling when she heard Camila muttering to herself, trying to decide which vinyl to put on their electric red record player. Her smile only grew when she put on one of Karen’s favourites. Chelsea Girl.

She loved this album, one of the first records she’d ever bought. She had got two more editions of it by the time the Six was going on winter tours but now, it was almost at the top of her list to find Nico on the circuit. It wasn’t long before they’d be back in Europe: perhaps they’d find her there. 

Camila’s arms wrapped around her waist as The Fairest of the Seasons began to warm the house:

“You should invite Daisy around for dinner some time.” She said.

“She’ll just say no.”

“Daisy says no to everything.” Camila said. “You just have to remind her that she’s perfectly welcome. We’re not asking out of obligation. We’re her family.”

“Yeah, I guess so. If that doesn’t work, I’ll see if I can at least tempt her to grab a burger or something. If all else fails, I’ll threaten to put her in rehab.”  

Camila smiled. “That sounds like a good plan. Move over, let me get the chicken out.”

Karen did as she was told and then, as The Fairest of the Seasons wore out and the next song drifted on, a small figure appeared in the archway. Dressed in faded red overalls and a striped shirt, Julia Dunne looked up at the two women with vague wonder that only three-year-olds contained. Karen grinned and came over, picking up the little girl and putting her on her hip.

“Hey, you.” She greeted, putting a kiss to Julia’s cheek. “Where have you been hiding, sprout? Huh? Living room?”

“Hi, Kan.” Julia rested her head against Karen’s shoulder contentedly, her hands immediately going to explore the feel of her leather jacket. At three, Julia still hadn’t quite mastered enunciating Karen’s name so ‘Kan’ had become a fond nickname exchanged between the two. Daisy, however, she found very easy to pronounce. 

Camila rolled her eyes, smiling as she looked at the two. “See, if rehab doesn’t work, you could just tell Daisy that Jules misses her and she should come over and show her face, or be forgotten like my mother has been. Watch this. You remember Grandma, Julia? Remember who that is?”

The toddler gave no signs of recognition, far too preoccupied with Karen’s hair and her jacket and her sunglasses and anything she could get her hands on. Camila rolled her eyes again. 

“Three whole years with my mother practically living down the road, nothing . Watch Daisy compete with that.”

Karen laughed. “I’m honoured just to be recognised then.” She bounced Julia slightly. “How about it, Jules? What do you think? You wanna see your Auntie Daisy soon? Make her smile?”

Julia nodded enthusiastically. “I want to see Daisy!”

Camila made an ‘I told you so’ gesture and got out the rest of the food. Karen chuckled but she knew it wasn’t a bad idea. Maybe not so great to drag a drug-fuelled Daisy in front of a three-year-old but she knew if she could get Daisy straightened out a little first , then maybe some time with Julia would be good for her. Julia Dunne seemed to be one of the only people in the world that Daisy Jones could pull herself together for. 

Karen nudged her nose into Julia’s cheek and then let her down and came over to help with dinner. Camila pressed a kiss to her temple when she approached and Karen, despite herself, blushed and handed her the first plate.

“I don’t get how you’re a) still standing and b) looking like that .” 

Karen raised an eyebrow in the mirror as Camila entered their bathroom, her shoulders sagged and her head tilted back, her eyes barely open. She turned and dragged her, sleep-dazed and limp-limbed, into her arms.

“Tired, huh?”

Camila buried her head in the crook of Karen’s neck. “Are you staying tonight?”

“Yes, love.”

“Good. I’ve been inside all day and you’ve been doing all these things, speaking to all these people while I haven’t even left the house and yet, you still look beautiful. It’s not fair.

Karen smiled and rolled her eyes. “Don’t put yourself down.” She said. “Wait till I’ve taken my makeup off - then I’ll look like shit.”

Camila pulled a face of mock jealousy. “No, you won’t. You’ll still look like your usual, gorgeous self and I’ll probably have one of Julia’s toys stuck in my hair or something.” 

Karen hooked a finger under her chin. She tilted her head to meet their gazes. 

“You look beautiful, no matter what.” She said, amusement glancing through her tone. “And as far as I can tell -“ She stole a quick glance above them. “-there’s nothing in your hair.”

Camila looked at her for a few seconds, then she smiled softly and sank back into Karen’s arms, grateful. “Thank you,” She said softly. “I needed that, weirdly.”

“S’not weird at all.” Karen replied. “You’d be surprised how many times Daisy has had meltdowns because she can’t find a bangle or her hair isn’t shiny enough, stuff like that. Amazing how quickly she calms down too if you tell her that she already looks pretty. At least your complaint is somewhat justified.”

“It is?”

Karen took Camila’s face in her hands. “You’ve been looking after Jules all day. A bit more important than talking to magazines and arguing with your band mates, don’t you think?”

Camila smiled again and let Karen put a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you.” She said and nuzzled into another hug. Karen placed another kiss on her head.

“You’re welcome, love.” 

They stood there for some time before Camila sniffed and stepped back. She ran a hand through her hair. 

“Billy called earlier, just as I was putting Julia to bed.”

“Oh? What did he say?”

Camila sniffed again. “He asked if you were going to be in the studio tomorrow. He and Daisy have settled on an idea, apparently.” She looked down at her feet. “He spoke to Julia for five minutes and hung up.”

Karen scoffed. Billy fucking Dunne and his big fucking ego. Fucking prick . Only cared about his band (she’d given up calling it their band, no matter what Graham or Daisy said, years ago) and nothing more. Sometimes Karen wondered if it wasn’t for her continued involvement with Camila, would Billy even remember who they were? 

She scoffed again and then caught the look on Camila’s face. Sad, soft, hurt. She looked as though somebody had kicked her, treated her like nothing on the street. 

Karen softened and pressed a gentle kiss to Camila’s lips. “I’ll tell you what I’m doing tomorrow. I’m going to spend the whole day with you and Julia.” She decided. “And then , I’m going to call Daisy and sort her out. I don’t give a shit what Billy bloody Dunne does with his bloody album.” 

Camila couldn’t help but smile. Although she knew she shouldn’t, it was reassuring to hear how committed Karen - the keyboardist who liked to joke she had no heart and no feelings, only notes on a piano - could be. She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed her, properly and genuinely, delighting in the way she could feel Karen smiling against her. 

“Thank you.” She whispered. “Thank you.”

It was two weeks later when Daisy Jones came to visit. True, her hair was flat and her skin was washed out and grey, but she could smile and she was sober and that was a true achievement in and of itself. Karen was proud of her, if nothing else. 

Daisy kissed Karen’s cheek when she came through the door. “Hi, Keys. It’s good to see you.” She said softly, using an old nickname she’d coined during a jam session a few months back. It earned a genuine smile off Karen and the blonde gave her a hug.

“It’s good to see you too, Flower Power. It’s, uh, been a minute, huh?”

Daisy gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Feels like a thousand years.”

In truth, they’d seen each other just under a week ago but under much less happier circumstances. Daisy, upon hearing that she’d been invited to go and see Julia, had done her best to sober up a bit but that wasn’t an easy feat for anybody, let alone Daisy Jones. The last time Karen had seen her, she’d been twitching and shaking and had been so irritated that their conversation had lasted barely longer than a minute. Daisy had shouted and thrown the dexies she was so desperate to take while Karen had barely had the stomach to look at her. 

She’d never seen Daisy look that bad before: all raving and furious, like a banshee in wild rage. She’d almost been afraid of her. She couldn’t blame her though - drugs ravaged the mind worse than any cancer. That last week probably had felt like a thousand years to Daisy. 

Karen had read a Didion piece last month, an old one, about a kid at Woodstock on acid, five-years-old - and the image had stayed with her. It made her think of Daisy. It made her think of Julia. Was that the life she was destined to have? Neglected by the people around her, led so astray that she was already ruining her life at such a young age? Karen swore she’d never let that happen to Julia. She swore she’d save Daisy from it: even if she was too late already.

“You look so much better, Dais. Really.” 

Daisy shook her head and smiled slowly. “Thank you.” She whispered. Her features were still a little unsure, a visible fight going on in her trembling smile, but there was a genuine spark in her eye that Karen knew was the real Daisy, and secretly, she knew she was pleased with the praise. “We’ve been missing you at recording, Karen. It’s just me surrounded by these towers of testosterone and cigarettes.”

Neither of them pointed out that that was the usual for Daisy. Instead, Karen merely put a hand on her shoulder and guided Daisy down the hallway towards the living room. 

“Don’t worry about that now. Can I get you something to eat? Drink, maybe? Camila’s putting breakfast on. I can fix you a coffee, if you like.”

“Camila’s here?” Daisy said faintly and Karen felt her pause through her hand. 

“Yeah, she’s got the day off work.”

“Oh.”

The pause nearly became a halt and Karen squeezed her shoulder as they caught a glimpse of themselves in the hallway mirror. She looked at them both in the reflection.

“It’s okay, Daisy.” Karen reassured. “She wanted you to come too. We’re all family here, believe that. I know you already do.”

Daisy blinked. She was looking at their reflection too, studying herself and her friend. The way they stood, with Karen’s hand on her shoulder and her front pressed to Daisy’s back, they almost looked like a family portrait. Daisy’s hand ghosted over Karen’s and she blinked again, this time trying to hold back tears. Her rings made a gentle noise against Karen’s. 

It was as if she were seeing herself for the first time in a long time. She recognised how dull her hair was, how gaunt her cheeks had become. She had this quivering uncertainty to her eyes, as though her pupils couldn’t stay quite still. If she were healthy, this would’ve been her firing moment - her opportunity to run into the sun with the idea of being somebody, having something. But now she was somebody, had something, and this moment felt like a thought in the wind. There one minute, gone the next.  

“I suppose so.” was all Daisy Jones said as they walked into the hallway and breathed in the smell of freshly mown grass, strawberry shampoo and newly-made pancakes.

Sun emerged properly in the mid-morning and Daisy spent most of it lying on her back in Camila and Karen’s backyard, playing with Julia. As much as Camila wished it wasn’t true, Karen had been right in saying that Julia was the only drug Daisy could be addicted to and not let it ruin her life. 

Still, she couldn’t help but smile watching her daughter playing with her best friend. 

Daisy had taken her bangles off of her wrists and her rings off of her fingers and even her hoops out of her ears to let Julia play with them. She sat, cross-legged, making daisy chain crowns for the pair of them and gently singing whatever Julia requested. It was the happiest Karen or Camila (or probably anybody for that matter) had ever seen her. 

Camila watched them from the kitchen window, her hands in the soapy dishes, the Carpenters drifting in from the living room. Karen accompanied her by wrapping her arms around her middle and pressing slow, contented kisses to the back of her neck. She couldn’t help smiling at that either.

“Are you enjoying yourself there?”

“Mhm,” Karen mumbled. “Could stay here forever.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Her fingers tightened slightly over Camila’s apron and she pulled her backwards. Another kiss to the top of her spine. “Definitely. My best idea in ages.”

Camila laughed and then, with another quick glance at Daisy and Julia out in the garden, she turned around in the blonde’s embrace. “Are you trying to get me to say you were right? I’ll have you know I didn’t disagree with you in the beginning at all .” 

Karen chuckled. “No but I could see it all over your face. You were worried as hell.” 

“Well forgive me for not wanting my daughter around more rock stars. It’s bad enough that I keep you around, let alone anybody else.” 

Though she had a point, her words held no malice and Karen knew Camila loved Daisy as much as she did. She pulled the brunette even closer, putting one hand on her waist and another in her palm, intertwining their fingers together. She kissed her again. 

“I’m glad you keep me around.”

Camila hummed contentedly. “Hard to believe I don’t have to ask you to stick around.” She thought for a second. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, you know? I’ll say the same thing I said to Billy. If you don’t want to-“

Karen shut her up with another kiss. “Don’t be silly,” She said quietly. “I like being here. I love being here. With you and Jules and our record player and-“ She gave a short laugh. “I used to hate the idea of being married. You know, settling down . It never appealed to me. It’s the stuff our parents do, isn’t it? Boring, beige, what do you want for dinner - that sort of thing. Gross. But with you…Cami, I want it. You’re the only person I want it with. If it was anybody else, I’d still be in a bathroom somewhere, doing lines until I couldn’t feel my face anymore. I will always be here, no matter what.” 

Camila stared at her, eyes wide. Karen grinned.

“Your face.” She wiped a forming tear from the brunette’s cheek. “Are you okay with all that?”

Camila’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. It took her a moment to find words. “I hate you.”

Karen raised an eyebrow.

“What I mean to say is, I love you but Jesus, Karen, don’t spring these confessions on me. You know I’m an ugly crier. God.” She pulled in a ragged sniff, “You can’t be saying these things while I’m trying to wash the damn dishes.”

The blonde chuckled and wiped away more of Camila’s tears. She glanced over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of Daisy and Julia, still playing outside. They were completely unaware of how nice a time they were having, which was just the way Karen wanted it. Complete, utter bliss. She smiled and felt it in her heart, 

“I want to stay in this moment forever.” She said quietly.

Camila turned and followed her gaze. She sighed and leaned back, her head on Karen’s shoulder. Her hands found the blonde’s and squeezed. 

“Me too.” She whispered.