Title: Shampoo
Fandom: Twin Peaks
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~400
Content notes: Warning for abusive father/daughter relationship (not explicit)
Summary: Leland Palmer wants to help Laura wash her hair.




She was washing her hair in the kitchen sink when he came in.

“Hi, honey,” he called. “Where’s Mom?”

“Lying down,” she said, trying and hoping for normalcy, feeling very vulnerable in her hunched-over position.

“Another headache? I wish she’d see Dr. Hayward about those.”

Her hair hanging in lathery ropes around her face, she sensed more than saw him approaching. When his hand rested lightly between her shoulder blades, tightness began to creep through her muscles in all directions.

“You’re so tense,” he said concernedly, rubbing lightly, “Sometimes I think you try to do too much, Laura.”

Her hand felt for the cold water knob, so that she could rinse and be done.

“Can I help?” he asked. “Remember when I used to wash your hair?”

She did. She could remember lying on her back on the kitchen counter, with one of his strong hands supporting her head over the sink while the other gently massaged her scalp. Tears came to her eyes and a small sob escaped her, drowned out, she hoped, by the running water.

He was standing very close now, looming over her as his fingers began combing through her hair in the cool water. As the feeling of it connected with her memories a deep, sad ache replaced the dread that had filled her.

Suddenly his other hand was on the back of her neck, effortlessly holding her head down under the tap. She tensed all over like a trapped animal. She could see nothing but the water sheeting through her hair. Her hands, slippery with shampoo, clutched at the cold porcelain edge of the sink. She tried to breathe and couldn’t for a moment, then forced her lungs to drag in a jagged scrap of air. Don’t scream, she thought, just don’t scream.

“All done!” he said cheerily and released her. She gasped and stood upright on shaking legs, water streaming down into her shirt.

“Whoops!” he said, and handed her the towel she had laid on the counter. “You’d better go change that shirt, honey.”

She grabbed the towel and pressed it to her face for a moment. Then she began to dry her hair.

“Thanks, Dad,” she said.