"Corbyn, who's here?"

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck." he mumbled and shot out of bed, rushing to the front door. You followed closely behind him as you start to grow more and more nervous. He stopped abruptly at the bottom of the stairs and you almost bumped into his back. You see him take a deep breath before he walks to the door and you decide to hang back at the stairs. He gripped the doorknob so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. He swung the door open and there she was. Renee, who'd be basically a ghost for the past five years, was standing in Corbyn's doorway. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes looked like they'd been slept in for weeks and her face was dark, sunken in. Corbyn stood there in disbelief, emotions swirling through him. He was confused as to why she had shown up, but he was also angry. He was hurt. He wanted her to leave. "What the hell are you doing here?" he spat and she flinched at his harsh tone. "Corbyn, I know it's been a long time but I'm going through a rough patch right now and I could really use some—" she stopped mid-plea when she saw you peeking around the corner. Her facial expression changed from doe-eyed innocence to pure rage within a second. "Why is she here?" she asked and Corbyn scoffed, in absolute shock at how bold she was being. "It's none of your business, Renee! What'd you come here for? Money? Get the hell out of here." he said, trying to shut the door in her face. She put her hand out to stop the door and shoved her way in. "No, I'm here for my daughter. My daughter, not hers." she said, gesturing to you. "I want to see her, Corbyn. Let me see her." she demanded, her voice growing louder. You looked at Corbyn and he didn't catch your gaze, but you could see his jaw lock and his fist ball up. Without thinking, you ran back up the stairs and slipped into Charlie's room, closing the door behind you. You tried to keep your quick, panicked breaths quiet as you paced around the room. You leaned against the door and looked at Charlie, sound asleep in her bed despite the commotion downstairs. You closed your eyes and hoped that Corbyn wouldn't let Renee make it past the front door.

"No, no we are not doing this. You don't get to just waltz in here five years later and act like you have any right to see my daughter." Corbyn shouted and Renee didn't hesitate to shout back. "Our daughter! I have every right to see her." He scoffed and tried to close to door again, but she pushed back. "You're a crazy bitch." he dryly chuckled. She crossed her arms and cocked her head, giving Corbyn the coldest look she possibly could. "What's Y/N doing here? Is she your new girlfriend? What does Charlotte think of her?" she asked and Corbyn grabbed his phone out of his pocket. "You have ten seconds to get the hell out of my house or I will call the police." he said shakily, his entire body wracking with anger. She didn't move, she didn't speak; she just stood with her foot in the door and her arms crossed. Corbyn dialed a '9' and she gave in, relaxing and stepping back onto the porch. Like she used to when they were together, she flipped a switch and went from fighting him to crying. She could turn on thr waterworks with ease, like it was nothing. "I just want to see my baby." she pleaded, but Corbyn didn't buy it for a second. He knew better. "Delete my number, forget my address and never come back here again. You had your chance to choose Charlotte over a needle and some pills and you chose wrong. As far as my daughter is concerned, you're not her mother. You never were and you never will be." he said through his clenched teeth and slammed the door, shaking the whole house. He locked the door and paced throughout the living room, picking up a small vase from the table and throwing into the wall. It shattered into pieces on the floor and Corbyn fell to his knees, his head in his hands.

You didn't hear much of the argument from upstairs, but once silence fell over the house you heard the crash and rushed to see Corbyn. You reached the last step and stopped, seeing Corbyn on the floor. You could hear him taking shallow breaths and letting out small grunts. You approached him carefully, afraid to startle him while he was this upset. "Corbyn." you said softly and he lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot and the veins on his forehead bulging out. You kneeled down beside him, reaching for his hand. Instead of taking your hand, he collapsed into you. You held his head and shoulders in your arms, rubbing his back to try and calm him. "She can't take my baby." he whispered, his eyes watery. You held him tighter, rocking back and forth. "I know. She's not going to, love. She can't do anything to you or Charlie." you said and he nodded, sniffling a bit. The two of you sat together on the floor, surrounded by broken glass until Corbyn sat up. He wiped his eyes and looked at you, the strain on his face making your heart break. "I'm so sorry." he said and you shook your head, putting your hand on his cheek. "Don't apologize to me. None of this is your fault, do you understand me?" you said kindly, but firmly. He nodded and leaned into your touch, smiling a bit. "Go see your baby, I'll clean this up." you said, standing and offering a hand to him.

While you swept up broken glass, Corbyn stood in the doorway of Charlie's room, staring at her through the darkness of the room. The moon gave off a dim glow, just enough to make out her small body cuddled under the covers. He moved to sit on the end of her bed, resting his hand on her leg. He felt a stray tear slip down his cheek and he smiled to himself, admiring the best thing he's ever done in his life. He reached up and stroked her hair, leaving a light kiss on her cheek. Charlie was his whole world and nothing—Renee, tour, anything life threw his way—could ever take her away from him.