What is Love? A PRP off of Dark FairyTale's Idea

"Then we might as well enjoy her while we can." I whispered, snatching the knife from her.

"You know, I've got other knives. Theres one in my pants, one in my shirt..."

"I can't stop you from doing anything, Becca, but I want you to know this one thing. If you kill her, I will never forgive you."

"I won't kill her, but you will owe me. A lot."

"I don't owe you crap. You almost killed my daughter." I spat before walking back into the bedroom. "Sorry about that, sweety." I said to my daughter as I walked over to her.

The Unnamed child frowned as her father walked in. "Told you!" I called to him. "And you will owe me crap, because she's not happy with who she is."

"But we aren't killing her because of it." I yelled back, then crouched by her. "Hey, I understand the trouble you are going through. You don't wanna be a hybrid. But trust me, you are going to have some major fun while your with us, okay?"

"No, not okay." my daughter replied.

"What's wrong?" I asked, looking over at Becca angrily. I bet she talked to the kid.

"Mommy is unhappy so I am unhappy. She told me what I was and it made me unhappy."

"Just because your mother is unhappy, doesn't mean you have to be. Sure, your a hybrid, but that's what makes you... well, you. Being a hybrid isn't as bad as mommy thinks."

THe two of us glared at him. "Dane...you've changed. I don't like it."

Realization spread across my face. I'm a father... and I knew why I had changed. I was trying to be a better one than mine. "I know." I whispered, and smiled all the while tryin to stop tears from coming to my eyes. It worked, I didn't cry like a baby. "I know." I repeated, softly.

"Are you--crying?"

"No, of course not." I lied, and shook my head.

"You're lying."

"I'm not crying, all right." I said, suddenly growing angry. I stood up. "I can't believe you wanted to kill this little angel... that should be her name. Angel?"

"No." the two of us said in unison. "Her name will be Kat, with a K."

I stood up and faced Becca. "What makes you think you get to decide?"

"She's my child. We aren't married."

"She wouldn't be your child if it weren't for me."

"If I wouldn't have met you my life wouldn't be better."

"You know what? Something about the baby made you... angry. You're like a crabby old lady."

"And your like a non-stop complaining and whining old man."

"What do I ever complain about?"