Alfred Pennyworth: Alone

Alfred Pennyworth: Alone

Imagine your dad(Bruce Wayne) is an absolute ass, and Alfred ends up becoming your emotional support after you go through a terrible event:

- Lil warning: sexual battery, battery, kidnapping, hints alluding to rape, Bruce is an asshole, depression, thoughts of self harm -

Being the daughter of Bruce Wayne carries a lot of weight, you are expected to be great at everything, get amazing grades, have good friends, be a good person, etc, but the truth is that you can't always be that person.

Sure, I get good grades most of the time, but they never seem to be enough for dad. My friends are great and supportive, they know all about my feelings, and they never use me because of my last name, but that doesn't mean my father approves of them. And last but not least, I am who I am, I can't be the socialite and extrovert my father wants me to be, I can't dress the way he wants me to, and I can't act the way he wants me to.

This isn't done out of rebellion, I really want to be the daughter my dad wants, I want him to be proud of me, but I just feel like a hollow shell whenever I try.

———————

Today I went to hangout with some people, I decided to try and be friends with people my father has openly approved of, but everything just feels so shallow.

They all dressed fancy, most of them wearing expensive brands. I even dressed like them in an attempt to fit in, but I felt like such a fake. Remembering my fathers look of approval when he saw me and when I told him about my plans makes me push away my discomfort, just wanting to get through the day.

We had gone out to eat after school, and now were just messing around in a park. It was getting late, and I really wanted to head home, but I don't even know where I am anymore.

I'm in a group of about 5 people, 3 of them being guys and the other 2 are girls. The guys and girls are dating, so just me and this other guy are basically third wheeling. The couples want to go to the movies, but I know they are just going to be making out, so I decline, stating I'll just wait in the park for their movie to end; the other guy also declines, stating he'll also wait.

The guy - I think his name is Chase - and I went and sat on a bench near the outskirts of the park. It was really getting dark now, and I desperately wanted to go home and curl up in my bed and forget about this day, but Chase simply will not stop talking. He's actually not that annoying, and he's not half bad to look at with his brown hair swept to the side, his green eyes looking at me intently.

I stand up and Chase stops talking, his expression almost looking irritated that I interrupted.

"I think I'll be heading home now." For a moment I glimpsed anger flashing through his eyes, but it was gone just as immediately, instead being replaced by an extravagant smile.

"Sure, I'll walk you to your bus stop." I almost feel like blushing, but he probably only offered because I'm a young girl alone in Gotham at night. I smile instead, and say 'thank you' before beginning my walk to the bus stop. It's not too far, only about a half mile walk, but as we pass an alley, Chase motions for me to follow him though it, stating it was a shortcut.

I don't feel comfortable, I don't like alleys in the first place, adding in the fact that it's night makes it even worse. I go to tell Chase no, but looking into the alley I realize I can't see him anymore. Fear surges within me, is he okay? Where did he go? I hesitantly step into the alley when I hear him urgently shouting my name.

I run to his voice, hoping to see that he's okay, but as I turn into a corner within the alley I'm quickly shoved into the rough brick wall. My head is aching in pain, as well as my back. I try to shove the person away, but they secure my hands with theirs, their chest grazing against mine. I don't know what's happening, I can't tell who this is because it's so dark.

I can feel the tears running down my cheeks as one of their hands gropingly wanders over my body.

"Oh, don't tell me you're crying." That mocking voice stabs me, betrayal radiating through my bones. That voice belongs to Chase, I feel like fighting and dying at the same time.

My free hand acts without thought, a loud smack ringing through the tense silence. He seems stunned, but he soon reacts in violence as well, punching my lower abdomen, my body hunching over. He gives me no time to suffer, as he pulls my body back up, holding my face up with one hand and delivering a forceful punch with the other.

I can't remember much after that other than falling to the ground, the last thing I saw was him walking towards me with a sickening grin.

———————

Pain radiates through my body, everything ached, but my pelvis and hips felt like they were  burning. My shoulder stings, and my face felt like I had been beat; my eyes aren't even open, yet I already want to go back to sleep.

It's only when the memories of last night resurface that I jump awake, my body feels like its being torn in half, but I ignore it, instead hastily surveying my surroundings. It's still dark, though how late, I do not know.

It takes me a few more moments to realize that my clothes are strewn across the floor, it's at this moment when the sickening feeling strongly radiating through both my body and mind finally makes sense. The intense need to vomit sweeping over me.

My eyes flood with tears as I hastily put my clothes on, it hurts to move but I really need to get home. I walk to the bus stop, paranoia running rampant within me, I find myself flinching at anything and everything.

I look at the clock in the bus and realize it's 11pm, I was supposed to be home by 8pm at the latest. I look at myself through my phone camera, attempting to fix my hair and clothes so that my father doesn't realize what happened to me; knowing him he would probably just be angry with me.

I shakily exit the bus, just walking hurts so much, but I put on a neutral expression, entering my home slowly. The lights are off, maybe he went to sleep early for once?

Those thoughts of hope are sharply stripped away when the cold light filters through the room.

"Where have you been, young lady?" I lower my head subconsciously, knowing I'm in trouble. I keep myself facing the door, I don't need him seeing my tear-streaked face, he'll probably just shout at me.

"I was just hanging out with my friends." I try to make it sound like I did nothing wrong, but I know it's just making him angrier.

"You were supposed to be home by 8pm, mind telling me what you were doing till 11 at night." His tone is becoming sharper and more demanding, this tone always leads to him yelling at me. That's honestly the last thing I need him to do, but what am I going to say, 'Hey dad, will you please not yell at me?' Yah, he'll probably scream if I say that.

I maintain my silence, hoping he'll just send me to my room.

"I asked you a question." I stay silent, praying that he'll just drop the conversation.

"LOOK AT ME!" His tone is deep with anger, his shout reverberating through the halls. He slammed his hand against the door, right near my head. I jump in surprise, but refuse to look at him out of both fear and self-preservation.

I can feel his glare deepen as he backs away from me, his sigh of frustration letting me know his shouting is done.

"Go to your room, you're grounded for two months." I don't argue, I don't fight, I simply nod my head and shuffle away, trying to hide my limp as I head to my room.

It's only after sitting on my bed for a few minutes that I finally let silent tears fall. Everything I do is wrong, and the one thing I do that makes him happy ended up being the worst decision of my life.

Maybe I should just stop trying.

———————

It's around 4 in the morning, I've been trying to go to sleep, but every time I close my eyes, I think of when he... when he... oh never mind. The memories are fresh and refusing to yield, so I've taken to pacing around my room, just walking back and forth and back and forth, sometimes accidentally running into my bookshelves.

Normally on a night like this I would be tucked away reading my favorite book, but everything I do right now just feels so out of place.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even realize that Alfred had knocked on my door and opened it when I didn't respond. I only noticed when his hand lightly touched my shoulder, which caused a massive reaction.

I almost screamed, but it came out more as a fearful whimper; my entire body jumping away, my feet taking a few steps back to gain distance. My eyes are wide and distraught, scared of who would be in my room, but I calm slightly when I realize it's only Alfred.

He looks surprised, well, that's putting it lightly. He looked more shocked at my reaction, almost looking suspiciously at me.

"Please forgive my intrusion Y/N, I simply wanted to check on you. You've been pacing for a while." His voice furthers my ease, but I also feel guilt tightening my chest. I forgot Alfred's room is below mine, I must've been walking loudly, and I guarantee that me running into a bookcase isn't quiet.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to awaken you." Alfred's always been like an uncle to me, he's helped raise me, and he's always supported me in being myself.

"Do you mind telling me about that bruise?" His question startles me, I wasn't expecting that question, mainly because I wasn't aware I had a bruise. My eyes widen, and I quickly rush away into my bathroom, turning on the lights and gazing in horror at the purple splotch that was darkly forming over my left cheekbone.

I can't handle it anymore, I lean back against the wall, covering my eyes with my hands as I cry. I slowly slide down to the floor, bending my legs up and hiding my face against them as I sob.

Alfred walks over to my clearly distraught form, kneeling down and observing me for a few seconds. It didn't take him long to put it together, the bruised face, the red marks on my wrists, my tangled hair, the fact that I had thrown away my clothes from this night and replaced them with clothes that drowned my figure.

He sighs in silent anger, not at me, but at the disgusting person that did this to me.

He slowly pulls me into his side, and I welcome his fatherly response, crying against him as he whispers to me everything will be alright.

———

I don't know how long we stayed like that until I fell asleep, awakening the next morning in bed to see a note from Alfred saying to come to the kitchen for some pain killers and an ice pack, and that we would be having a chat over breakfast.

I'm scared, scared that I'll have to relive the memories of last night, but I'm also thankful. Thankful that someone like Alfred cares about me like how my real father should.

Unraveled Ch.4: Reacquainting

Ch.3 Ch.5

"Was it an accident? Did he fall?" Beth questioned, trying to get a grasp on the situation after having calmed down.

"We don't know yet." Alec responds, though he and I know the grim truth that Danny was most likely kidnapped and murdered.

Ellie and I had been making tea for everyone, hoping to calm their nerves slightly. I could tell that Chloe wasn't okay with this situation at all, she was just leaning solemnly against the wall.

"Can you think of why he might've been up on the cliffs last night or this morning?" Alec starts questioning, trying to get as many ideas as to why Danny was up there, and who some suspects might be.

"He wouldn't have been." Beth states, just trying to stay calm, her mind still having trouble believing Danny is dead.

"Well, he obviously was." Came Mark's quick and blunt reply, causing me to subtly glance over at him, wondering why he would snap slightly at Beth like that.

"He didn't have any reason to be." Beth quickly recovered.

"How was Danny over the past few days. " I immediately voiced, wanting to get the tension between the pair gone.

"He didn't kill himself, if that's what you're suggesting Els." Mark stated, looking directly at me, almost as if slightly offended by my question.

"He's been just... normal." Came Beth as she tried her best to reply.

"He wouldn't kill himself. He knows he can talk to us about anything." Mark states, Chloe finally walks away from the wall to sit down next to her father.

"And you last saw him when?" Alec asks, attempting to understand the situation and create a timeline of the events.

"I looked in on him about 9:00 last night. He was lying in bed, reading." Beth states as she rocks herself to try and gain comfort. There is a short silence that follows, Alec thinking about what to ask next.

"Anyone see Danny this morning?" Alec questions as he looks between the family members.

"No, he's up and out before anyone else, he's got a paper round. But he didn't turn up for that. Jack, I spoke to him, he runs the paper shop." Beth states slowly as she recounts what occurred that morning.

Alec continues to question them, but my mind goes to thinking about suspects, so far Beth, Mark and Jack will have to be individually questioned, We're going to have to get the family's alibis as well as Jack's. My thoughts are suddenly brought back to reality when Mark asks if he can see the body. Everyone looks at him in slight shock and disbelief, especially Beth, but I understand his reasoning of wanting to make sure it's Danny and not someone else.

——————————

Ellie leaves to take Mark to go view the body. Alec and I are left at the house, he's goes around to Danny's room, and I'm left with the family.

"Auntie Els, are you sure it's Danny?" Chloe questions timidly, her grandmother looking at me as well. I look down at the floor before looking into Chloe's eyes.

"Yes Chloe.... the body we found is Danny's; and I know that our D.I. is a new person, and that you don't know him, but I can assure you that Alec, Ellie, and I will make sure to find out the true story as to what happened to Danny." I assured them. Chloe only nodded whilst her grandmother attempted to comfort her.

——————————

Back at the police station Alec and Ellie we're giving a debriefing, I was asked to join them but I always preferred to watch, one of the reasons I never went for the D.I. position after my last employment. Alec being the softy he is for me, allowed me to watch instead of give the debriefing; which earned a surprised expression from Ellie, almost as if she didn't believe he would cut anyone some slack. But she quickly pushed away the shock, probably thinking of confronting me at another time as to why the abrasive D.I. got along with me.

"Was Danny Latimer abducted? Did someone gain access to the house, if so, how? If it wasn't forced entry, who has the key? We need to collect any CCTV from a mile radius around the house...Miller, the family, who are they and where were they?" Alec voices, walking in front of the whiteboard before leaning against it during his last few sentences, the group in front writing down what they say.

"Beth had Chloe, their eldest daughter, when she was 15 and Mark was 17. Mum and daughter were at home watching telly, they say they didn't leave the house until school the next morning. Dad was out on an emergency call-out, he's a plumber, he got in around 3:00. Neither parent thought to check on Danny. Gran lives nearby, she was there all evening, the other Gran lives in Wales." Ellie recounted, looking like she was falling apart inside at the thought that her closest friend's son is now dead.

After taking in all the information, Alec sternly looks at the group, stating,

"Until we're ready, all of this remains confidential. No gossip. You understand?...Right, go on." His voice stern and serious, not wanting any of this information to get out in the press. Everyone getting up to follow up on the information given.

——————————

I was down near the pier, taking in everything that had happened. After the debriefing I had rushed out of the department and to my home near the water because I was right on the edge of having another panic attack. There was a pushy male coworker who seemed to have more than a crush on me, he also didn't understand boundaries or how to take no for an answer; leading to him sliding his hand onto my lower thigh while I was sitting at my desk. This movement brought up the traumatizing event that happened only a month after moving into Broadchurch, the memories hit harshly, and I simply rushed out of there immediately. Luckily I made it home and got inside just before my mind was taken over. When I finally calmed down enough to make myself look proper I headed outside, and sat down on a bench, able to see a lot of the ocean and pier.

As I'm looking along, I see our Chief Super talking with Alec. I can only imagine that she's talking about him handing the case over, but knowing him he would never stand down just because of the past. God, I've never really paid attention to how much I've missed Alec, how I've missed his headstrong personality and his ability to stay focused. How he would chew someone out to the point where they were practically crying and then turn back to me and ask if I would pick up Daisy with him. I especially miss his daughter, Daisy, now that I think about it.

My chest tightens as I reflect back to right before the case, his family life struggling, but when it was just me, Daisy, and Alec, he would always be smiling.

Back then, Alec and I were always together, and Daisy absolutely adored me, I never really realized how empty my life has been without them. Even though I befriended the Miller's and the Latimer's, my life was depressing, though I always put on a facade so no one asked questions. Alec and Daisy were my life, sure, his wife hated me and my closeness to her husband and daughter, but that didn't stop Alec and Daisy from loving me.

Sometimes, when I am reminiscing about before the case, my mind will drift to my favorite memory of the three of us.

It was a total of one day before we would get called onto the Sandbrook case. Alec and myself had our off day, and were sitting down in a park. He had been explaining to me about the troubles he was having with Tess, how he had heard rumors in the office about her cheating, and how when he confronted her, she barely argued about it. Alec has only been getting more stressed out, he was even more stressed out than back in high school when his parents would constantly fight and argue in front of him.

Since I knew we would be busy the next day, I suggested we spend this day with Daisy. I texted her that we would pick her up from school and take her to ice cream. As I drove us to her school, I explained to Alec to forget work and his issues, and to focus on enjoying the moment.

At the ice cream store, Alec and I both got mint ice cream whilst Daisy got strawberry, we had just finished eating when it started bucketing down outside, not taking more than a few seconds for puddles to form. Me being the child I am, sprinted out the door to stand in the rain, splashing in some puddles as I ran to the park down the street. I could hear Alec and Daisy running after me, Daisy laughing gleefully at my childish personality whilst Alec chuckled as well.

At the park I finally stopped running, taking deep breaths as I looked back just in time to see Daisy run and jump onto me, causing both of us to fall back into a puddle since she is practically my size. Alec just stood there smiling at us, helping me out of the puddle and finally dragging me out of the rain and to the car, Daisy dragging me as well with a smile on her face. We were still drenched and smiling when I drove them home and walked them to their door, hugging Alec bye and giving Daisy a hug and a kiss on the forehead before waving goodbye. That was the last day of real happiness I can remember, everything else only causing a fake show or shallow version of joy on my face.

A shout harshly brings me out of my thoughts, my eyes drifting off the water to spot Alec walking off from Jenkinson, heading off towards town, I immediately ran to catch up with them.

"Alec!" I shout as I near him. He halts so suddenly I barely have enough time to stop, he turns around to face me, having to look down seeing as he is much taller than my 5 foot 6 form. His messy brown hair being blown by the wind as the previous scowl on his face disappears when he realizes that it's me who shouted his name. A ghost of a smile forming on his face as he visibly softens his harsh features.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure, Carlisle." He states in his rugged accent, his accent thickening as he says my last name, which caused my right eyebrow to raise slightly.

"Shut it Hardy, I know you're glad to see me too." I state sassily back. He glares into my eyes when I use his last name, and I glare back, only able to hold it for a few seconds before breaking into a smile. Stepping forward, I wrap my arms loosely around his neck and drag him down in a tight embrace. His stature immediately tenses, and for a second I even think he's going to shove me away, but then his arms delicately envelope me in return before pulling me tightly against his chest. We stay like this for a few moments before releasing. He looks at me questioning as to why I broke off the hug.

"Don't give me that look, I know you've got the mean, hard-ass D.I. image to hold up, you hugging me in public is not going to help maintain it." I smirk as I poke his chest. He thinks for a moment, then widely grins as he grabs my hand poking his chest and yanks me into a tighter hug, to which I gladly return. We release each other after a minute or so and begin walking down the sidewalk, smiles on both of our faces as we talk.

"So, is this where you ran off to all that time ago?" Alec finally asks after a few moments of silence, his voice not harsh or confronting, but more of a soft questioning and wondering tone. He looked at me, awaiting my answer, his eyes always seemed so vulnerable to me.

"Yes... I've been here the whole time. It brought back good memories; and when I left, good memories were the only thing that kept me alive." I hesitantly state as I look away from him. He nods his head slowly while glancing down in thought.

"I heard Miller call you Elspeth; but you and I both know that isn't your name." He gruffly voices, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets as he glances up at me questioningly.

"I was wondering if you had noticed that. I no longer go by Elswyth, I'm mainly doing that to... prevent any connections to Sandbrook." I speedily state the second part, shutting my eyes quickly as if that would block out the memories of the case, my whole body shuddering slightly at the thought of it.

"It's alright if you still want to call me Elswyth, though I'd prefer not in public. When we are around other people just act like you normally do, call me Carlisle and be rough and rude like normal so that no one knows of our past connections." I follow up, stopping our walk as I look over to Alec. He seems conflicted, but understands why I would go through such hassle to avoid connections with the case. He lifts his eyes from the ground, his gaze looks softer, his tough guy facade always seems to fade when he's around me. He simply nods his head and we start walking again quietly.

"Want to know what I was thinking about when I saw you talking to our Chief Super?" I suddenly voice, a smile spreading across my face as I remember. Alec looks up from the floor, releasing a grin as well when he sees mine.

"What were you thinking about Els?" He questions softly yet slightly sarcastically as he looks at me expectantly.

"I was remembering that day when you, Daisy, and I went out for ice cream and ended up splashing in puddles at the park. You remember that?" I explain, my smile brightening as I look over at Alec. He smiles back at me, but I can see that among the joy of the memory there is some pain.

"How are Daisy and Tess?" I ask, wanting to know what I've missed since I've left. His smile immediately falls as he breaks eye contact, seemingly thinking about how to answer.

"Well Els... Tess and I are divorced now.... I haven't seen Daisy for quite a while. We got divorced shortly after the case, turns out those rumors were true, and Tess has Daisy." At hearing this my steps sharply stutter to a sudden halt. My eyes wide at hearing the news of my best friend's divorce and loss of custody, guilt flooding my eyes as I think of how I left and didn't contact any of them, thinking they would recover with each other, but in reality Alec was all alone. The guilt that had been buried is resurfacing, a sharp pain welling in my chest as I look guiltily over to Alec's tired face.

I'm about to say something when Ellie walks up to us. We all start walking down the sidewalk in silence.

"So what did Jenkinson want?"

Ch.3 Ch.5

David Bowie: Sun Rays to Rainy Days

Imagine not liking David Bowie, and running into him during your stay in New York:

David Bowie, an amazing musician and actor, but also my worst enemy.

Why? Let's just say he said some not so flattering things about me to the press and wrote a not so flattering song that criticized pretty much my entire life. We haven't even met in real life, so I'm not sure where he gets off on the idea that anything he says about me holds meaning or truth.

I just really want to ask him what prompted him to write and say such cruel things about me, but I'm getting ahead of myself. My name is Y/N L/N, and I'm an American musician, my genres include hard rock, punk, alternative rock, and art rock; I would say I'm a fairly famous musician in the US and across Europe.

———————

The sky was unrealistically blue this early New York morning, like God had woken up and decided that only the bluest of blue would do today.

Most people enjoy blue skies, but being raised in California makes you either adore or detest them with an undying passion. I personally love rainy weather, so this day is already starting off on the wrong foot.

Checking the clock I sigh in wariness, already feeling tired even though I just woke up. I've been feeling anxious every time I wake up, this only started earlier this year due to the fact that a certain idol of mine has been voicing their negative opinion on me.

I'd normally brush it off and say 'fuck them', but this is David Bowie we're talking about. I love his music, I love his story, most importantly how he went through so many hardships yet still pushed forward.

Now I just regret ever thinking any of this was a good idea, sure all the money is nice, but all my relationships fell through. They started expecting me to pay for everything, wanting me to take them on expensive vacations and get them expensive gifts; now my idol feels the need to hate me as well? Just great.

I'm shook from my thoughts by the stern but smooth voice of my manager. He's a nice man, kind of reminds me of my father in his overall outward aura of professionalism, but a sharp streak of eccentricity shows when you really get to know him.

"Y/N, you've got an interview at 5, that should give you a couple of hours to wander around. Please keep your disguise on this time, I don't need a repeat of London." My manager exclaims with a humorous smile, my face burning in embarrassment at the memory of London. I had been wandering the streets and stupidly decided that it was late enough that no one would be able to recognize me, also being naive and believing I wasn't famous enough to be recognized yet ... Oh how wrong I was. The crowd that formed filled up the streets, I was newly famous, so I didn't expect anyone to recognize me, but the world felt the need to prove me wrong.

"No need to worry, I learned my lesson." I smile sheepishly, he softly pats my shoulder before leaving my hotel room.

Glancing in the mirror I swiftly start fixing my hair and checking my outfit, my mind wandering to my plans. I'm meeting an interviewer today, he's supposed to be a bit of an aggressive one, a little rude from what I've seen, and no questions are out of bounds.

To say I'm a little nervous is an understatement, this is the first interview I've accepted in my 3 years of stardom, so I'm sure he'll be extra aggressive in order to get as many details as possible. I just hope he doesn't bring up the conflict with Bowie, because I really don't have a reason as to how that even started.

———————

My day hasn't actually been that bad, no one has recognized me, so I just got to spend the day as a normal person. I moseyed along the sidewalks, just taking in the hectic environment that is New York. I've been walking around for quite a bit now, stopping in some stores and looking for interesting books to read in my off-time.

I've just bought a sketchbook and some pens when I notice some people that set me on edge. They're about 10 feet away from me, and they're giving me the "is that who I think it is" look. I gulp stiffly as a nervous chill passes down my spine, quickly thanking the cashier as I grab my things and stumble out of the store.

Looking back I can see them follow me, one of them shouting out to me.

"Are you Y/N L/N?" My throat tightens up, I look around frantically, and my fears seem to be coming true. The people on the crowded sidewalks immediately turn their heads at hearing my name. I can see some look for a little, clearly being confused before seeing through my disguise and noticing that it is me.

People start rushing forward, holding out things and excitedly asking for an autograph, something that I usually oblige to, but I am currently in a New York street with no security and no cellphone.

I'm being surrounded, some people are grabbing my shoulders, some pulling on the sleeves of my jacket in the hopes of gaining my attention. All it does is make me frightened, the London event gave me a permanent fear of crowds. I can feel myself start to hyperventilate, all the shouts are turning into one sound, it's so loud yet so quiet at the same time.

My mind is so distorted that I don't even notice I've been running, shoving my way out and being dreadfully aware of how they chase me. Camera flashes are coming from every direction, as are new people fanatically asking for an autograph or a picture; it's all so scary. Why do these people chase me? Why do they swarm around me to get some ink lines on a piece of paper? Why?

I turn a corner in hopes of slickly escaping, but suddenly find myself on the floor, having run into a rather solid chest. I exclaim an apology as I messily stand up, trying to make a run for it, but the person already has a hold on my arms to stop my escape.

"Hold on darling, what are you running from?" I recognize that voice, I look up and want to gasp in both surprise and fear, but the reappearance of the crowd stops me.

"That." I state, staring at the crowd and beginning to hyperventilate again, but I'm stopped when I find myself being swiftly dragged away. I have a hard time keeping up, he is about 5 inches taller than me after all, so he's like one step to every two of mine.

I don't know where he's taking me at first, but when I see the awaiting limo I find myself rushing forward in a burst of speed; dragging him next to me.

He does slap my hand away from the door before opening it and ushering me in before entering.

"Hello John, can you get us out of here." His accented tone is stressed, but still maintains an air of control. I used to love that voice, but now it makes me uncomfortable being so close to him and having to hear him in real life.

I move away from him, pushing myself up against the opposite door and looking at anything but him. The crowd was about 3 yards away when the limo screeched forward, my body finally releasing some of its rigidity as I see them disappear the longer we drive.

I close my eyes, leaning back in my seat as the exhaustion sweeps through me. I rest my hand against my forehead in frustration, in the next hour, all of New York will know I was spotted here and come looking for me. How am I supposed to get in contact with my manager, I don't have a cell, and I can't go asking strangers to borrow theirs.

My mind wants to continue its frustrated tirade, but I am startled out of it by a large hand softly tapping my shoulder. I look over and see a curious David Bowie, offering me a sheepish smile at having distracted me.

"Allo luv." His lovely voice politely rings through the car, I almost want to ask him if he'll write a song with me, but then the harsh reality of everything he's said smacks me in the face.

"Don't call me that." I didn't snap, but my voice was stern, letting him know that this is going to be a tense conversation. His smile falters, clearly not used to being met with such disdain.

"Well... What did you do to get that crowd chasing you?" He brushes off our tense beginning, clearly still curious as to why I was being chased. I glance into his calming eyes and realize he doesn't recognize me, or at least that's what I'm assuming. If he did recognize me, I doubt he would've ushered me into his limo so quickly.

"I don't think we've been formally introduced. My name is Y/N L/N." He raises his eyebrows in surprise at my sudden words, but his face is now cautious, looking at me as though I've just lied straight to his face. Sighing in irritation I pull off my gray fedora and sunglasses before gently removing my wig to show my short hair. He sits back in shock, facing away from me as his eyes fall to his hands.

"... Oh." The car falls back into silence, he clearly doesn't know how to respond. I roll my eyes as I shove the wig into my handbag, hooking the glasses to my shirt before replacing the hat back upon my head. I feel slightly flustered at being saved by him, I should at least thank him, but I think that can wait until I get out of the car.

"...Um. Where would you like me to go, sir?" David looks startled from his haze, quickly glancing to me before back to his driver. He's about to speak when a loud noise startles everyone in the car, closely followed by the sharp hits of water on the windshield. I immediately look out the window, being met with the unexpected view of storm clouds completely filling the once blue sky. I want to smile, I love rain and thunder, but I have no idea what my address is, and I am certainly not dressed for the rain.

"What? Don't like rain Mrs.L/N?" David's irritatingly attractive voice grabs my attention. I look over to him before back to the rain.

"No.. I actually love the rain, and it's Miss, not Mrs." I respond, watching as the rain drops drizzle down the windows. The people on the streets hurriedly running for cover, seemingly as surprised by the rain as I am.

"Drop me off on that street corner, I'll find my way home from there." I say, not looking at David or the driver.

"What do you mean you'll find your way home? Don't you know your address?" David's voice is clearly distressed at the thought of just dropping me off on the corner of a random street. It's my turn to sheepishly smile, scratching the back of my head as I shake my head 'no'. The driver pulls the car over, coming to halt on a quiet street.

I reach my hand over to the handle, but I'm interrupted by David grabbing arm, his grasp gently but firm. His looks so concerned that I almost pity him.

"Don't go, at least let me drop you off at a restaurant or something... " His sentence drops off at the end, clearly hoping I'll give in, but I am in no mood to deal with any of this today. I pull myself from his grasp, opening the door and stepping out; the cold rain sends a refreshing chill down my spine. I turn away, readjusting my hat and bag, much too busy to notice David getting out after me.

"It's much too cold for you out here darling. Let me drop you somewhere safer than this at least." I can tell he's getting desperate at this point, but it really only makes me angry. How dare he say these things to me after bad mouthing me.

"How dare you act like you care about me." My words are unexpected to both of us, I didn't mean to speak my thoughts, but I guess I can't stop now. I turn around and face him, having to look up at his face due to the unfair height difference.

"You say the most awful things about me to the press, you make fun of my music, then you make fun of my life choices? Now you stand here acting all worried about my well-being?" My voice is equally as distressed as his expression, he clearly wasn't expecting my aggressive response. I take a step forward into his personal space, poking my pointer finger harshly against his chest as I glare into his eyes.

"You were one of the people I looked up to. We had never even met when I randomly heard you say I was some whore who somehow worked her way up to the top." My words are slurring, and my eyes are burning a bit. I don't know why I'm getting so emotional, maybe it's because I was so heartbroken at hearing him kick dirt on my name, or maybe it's because I stupidly gave his opinion a place in my mind.

I didn't even notice that my tears had escaped my eyes and were carving paths down my face until he brought his hands up to cup my jaw. His touch was so gentle as he wiped away my tears, so excessively tender I started to think I was made of thin glass that could be snapped in half.

"I was scared... I was scared, okay? And I know that's not an excuse, and I am sorry." His tone feels rushed yet hesitant, like he doesn't want me to even think about running off. I look straight into his eyes, finally seeing the guilt coursing through them in waves.

"Scared? Of what?" I'm so confused, why would he ever be scared of me? I was only barely a celebrity when he said those remarks, I was no threat.

"You... God, I was scared of you Y/N. You and your lovely young face, with your beautiful voice." He smiles, almost as though finally coming to a realization. I want to speak, but he continues.

"You came out of nowhere and took the world for a spin, I know you don't think you're very famous, but the entire world knows your name darling. You did that in such a small amount of time, I couldn't help but feel I would be forgotten. I know that it is a selfish thing to do, but I promise I'll make it right." I still feel unsure,

"How can I ever trust you, I admired you and you shoved that in my face." I back up and away from him, my arms wrapping around my body in search of both comfort and warmth.

"Well, I guess you'll only know if you give me the chance." His expression is so vulnerable and honest, his hair falling slightly into his face as he tilts his head down towards mine.

"Please, darling... Come with me, let me show you I'm not the awful prick you think I am." His surprisingly warm hands enclose around mine, their warmth causing the rest of my body to shiver, finally acknowledging the fact that we've been letting the rain drench our bodies for about 7 minutes now.

All I can do is nod my head as he brings an arm around my shoulders, quickly leading me back to the awaiting car. Helping me first before following after. I shiver weakly, David notices and has our driver turn the heat up, but we both know it'll do very little.

"Oh I'm sorry darling, let me take you back to mine and we'll get you a fresh change of clothes." I don't know why I'm suddenly so quiet, but all I can really do in response is nod my head. I take my wet hat off, tossing it down near my feet before once again wrapping my arms around myself.

———————

David Bowie's POV:

Oh, she looks so small all hunched over and wrapped in herself. I still feel guilty about what I'd said about her, I had no right making any of those claims, it was disgustingly immature what I did. All I know is that I need to make it up to her.

I must admit that I didn't expect to meet her today, I didn't even know she lived in New York.

"Do you live here Y/N? Maybe we could go to yours instead if you prefer?"

"No, I've been in a hotel, only got here 2 days ago and never made the effort to remember it's name." Ah, well, that's good to know. Looking back over to her I see her still shivering, clearly the heater is doing nothing for her. I shrug off my wet coat and shove it to the side before shifting closer to her and wrapping her up in my arms. Her body stiffens at the contact, but I can tell my body warmth is attractive to her from the way she pushes into me.

"Is this alright, love?" I don't know why I keep calling her these pet names, maybe it's because I like making her flustered. I feel her nod her head 'yes', I smile as I rest my head lightly atop hers. We stay like that until we stop in front of my hotel.

Grabbing my jacket I quickly wrap it around her small form, she opens her mouth to protest, but I silence her with my stern gaze. I swipe her hat from her hands and carefully place it atop her head, giving her a gentle smile before hopping out of the car helping her out.

We rush through the rain, laughing as we go, I hold the door open and usher her inside. We look so messy and out of place in this fancy hotel, but I ignore the looks we get, instead opting to gaze adoringly at this spit-fire of a woman I have on my arm. As we get in the elevator and wait for my floor she starts to shrug off my coat, but I quickly grab it and pull it back onto her shoulders.

"Don't, it looks better on you anyways." She drops her head down as she blushes, I can't believe I somehow got her to go from hating me to blushing at my compliments, all I know is that I want to compliment and make her blush for the rest of my life.

I step back from her as the elevator doors open, resting my hand on Y/N's back as I walk her in the direction of my room. The poor girl is still shivering, I hope she finds my clothes to be to her liking.

———————

Y/N's POV:

I'm still trying to wrap my head around how this man, this man who made me feel like absolute shit, now offers me his jacket and compliments that make my face blush a deep rose. I hope this is real, I don't think I can go back to hating him after all of this.

I'm dragged out of my thoughts by him gently pulling me into his room. Carefully slipping off the thick wet coat and hanging it up before turning back to me.

"Alright luv, I'll take you to my room and you can pick the clothes." His voice, God, his voice. I hate to admit it, but hearing his accent in-person just makes him even more attractive. All I can offer him is a gentle nod, his lips turning up into a sweet smile and he grabs my hand, leading me to his room. Opening the closet I see a wide array of clothes, ranging from incredibly posh to walk-out-of-bed to get a glass of milk clothes, I can't help but blush at the thought of him just lazily getting out of bed in the middle of the night for a midnight snack.

"What are you blushing at?" His tone is teasing as he gives me a humorous grin, his shoulder playfully bumping against my own. I can only shake my head in embarrassment as I glance away from him and back to the wardrobe.

"Oh, I can't pick... You choose." I suddenly state, backing up and softly pushing him forward. He seems generally surprised by what I say, but shakes it off as he now thinks about his new task. He rests against the wall and looks at me for a minute or so, just running his eyes across me in an oddly calculating way. He sharply turns away from me and starts rifling through his closet, searching for the perfect clothes, but suddenly stops and turns back to me.

"Don't you have an interview today?" My eyes widened in shock, how could I have forgotten. I glance towards the clock on his bedside table, my interview is in 30 minutes.

"It's in 30 minutes! What am I supposed to do?" I want to cry, this interview is very important publicity for my upcoming album. My eyes burn with tears of frustration, but I find myself distracted by the warm embrace of David, it's oddly comforting.

"Now don't you worry about the clothes, I'll pick something out while you go call your manager and get the address for your interview." He states, pulling back and looking at me reassuringly.

"What do you mean? My manager will never let me go on unless everything is perfect." I don't mean to argue, but I know my manager is a perfectionist, and will surely yell my ear off for putting myself in this position.

"Darling, either you go with what you have, or you miss the interview." I open my mouth in a weak attempt to argue, but I stop, knowing he's right. I nod my head and rush to the phone, hoping David chooses those clothes quickly.

I messily dial up my manager, and as soon as they pick up, I can sense their rush of concern.

"Honey where have you been? Your interview is in less than 30 minutes!" His usually calm tone is higher as he clearly has been worried about my whereabouts.

"I know I know, and I'm so sorry I didn't call sooner. I just... I was out, and people recognized m-" I get cut off before I can finish my sentence.

"They what! Did you take off your disguise?" He sounds so worried, I feel really guilty at making him feel this way, but I would rather I tell him than have him find out via the news.

"No, people saw through it!"

"Well, are you okay? I know how you get in crowds, did you make it out alright?" The worry and concern emanating through his voice lets me know he really wants to give me a hug, and he probably needs one too. I remember the fear and concern when he had to get me out of that London crowd, gosh he was more scared than I was.

"I'm surprisingly alright, but that's really only because I got saved." I say quietly, I leave out the fact that David Bowie saved me because I don't know how my manager will react. He was there with me when David said I was a whore to the press, so I'm not sure that he'll be as quick to forgive him as I was.

"Saved? By who?" His voice suddenly goes from concern to curiosity, oh I hope he doesn't scream when I bring David with me.

"I'll introduce you both at the interview... On that note, can you tell me the address, I promise I'll be there on time."

"Alright Y/N, just please stop giving me heart attacks." This last sentence is humorous, yet completely serious at the same time. I can hear the sincerity, and I hope that I never put him through this again.

"I promise nothing." I reply sassily, writing down the address he tells me. I turn and hurriedly walk back to David's room, accidentally running into him and falling back to the floor. I glance up in surprise as he does the same to me, I can't help but be taken back to the same scenario that happened earlier today.

"I think we've been here before darling." David laughs as I smile humorously at the situation. He offers his hand and pulls me up with a little too much strength, resulting in me falling against his chest. I can feel myself blush furiously as I go to push myself away from him, but find myself trapped by his arms encircling my waist.

He holds me there for a few moments before gently releasing me and motioning to the clothes on his bed. I don't even spare them a glance as I grab them and walk into the bathroom, changing swiftly before looking at myself in the mirror. I was in one of his blue dress shirts with some fancy brown shoes, and some straight legged ivory pants. Everything is big on me, and I feel overdressed, I usually don't care how I look, and dress in a t-shirt, jeans; but David really has me dressing up.

I hesitantly open the bathroom door with my eyes on the floor, hearing David hurriedly stand from his spot on the bed. We stand in silence for about a minute, and I go to shy away from him, but he steps forward and holds me in place.

"I look such a mess don't I? I-" I criticize my appearance, but he gently cuts me off.

"I like seeing you in my clothes." His voice is just above a whisper, and he sounds so attractively honest that I glance up from my shoes and to his face. I immediately notice that we are only a few inches away from one another, and I can't help but look away from him.

I turn back to say something when his hand suddenly reaches up to cup my face, instantly grabbing my attention. I look at him, noticing how adoringly he gazes into my eyes, and I can't help but close my eyes. His lips gently graze my own, he seems to hold back meeting me fully, assumingly afraid of how I react. To stop his assumptions I lean forward and meet his retreating form, himself immediately responding.

We pull back, and I shyly look to the side, seeing him smile in my peripheral vision as he leans down and softly kisses my cheek. My blush comes back with a vengeance, and I can hear him chuckle at the way I respond to him. We pull apart slightly, he offers me a warm smile before checking the time.

"Oh, we better get going, love. We have about 10 minutes to get there, and it's a 5 minute drive." I nod my head, allowing him to hold my hand as we walk out of his room.

———————

Arriving at the interview I wait in anxiousness as David walks around the car and opens the door for me, holding my hand delicately as we walk towards the building. We suddenly stop as he looks towards me and then himself, releasing my hand as he starts to take off his coat.

I go to object, but he pays it no mind, holding it out for me, and helping slip it on. I can't help but feel so in-love at the moment, and it's funny because he's the last person I thought would be treating me like this.

"You look good, I think I want to see you in my shirts more often." His voice is so charming and natural as the cheeky sentence slips out. He said it so normally, but he knows how it leaves me speechless, a smirk appearing on his handsome features as he leads me into the building.

Jack Celliers: Sadie

Imagine your husband(Jack) finds you in the POW camp:

I've been here for so long that the beatings don't seem to hurt anymore. It's like I'm not quite in my body anymore, instead I'm watching it, almost as though I'm just an onlooker.

I don't know how I managed to get here, all I know is that I tricked my military into thinking I was a man, and next thing you know I'm out here fighting a war, only to be caught. My trial was short, I was nearly sentenced to death, but by a stroke of luck I was detained as a prisoner of war. That's not to say that I feel lucky, most definitely not, you have no idea how hard it is to hide being a female when you are a prisoner.

I've lost so much weight that I no longer have my period, so that is a big help, but I also know that this quick weight loss is incredibly unhealthy. Now the only issues I have include hiding the fact that I wrap my chest, as well as making sure that I consistently lower my tone.

I don't socialize too much with the other soldiers, I barely even talk to Lawrence, and the only reason I do is because he goes out of his way to initiate conversations with me. I think he has assumptions about my true identity, he does have quite the analytical mind, and I would have to be an award winning actress to pull the wool over his eyes; but as of yet he has made no mention of this towards me, my only evidence being the cautious glances as well as a sudden protective nature.

_______

I can't say for sure how long I've been here, but I know it's been at least a couple of months now. I've gotten closer with Lawrence, no longer minding our occasional chats. I seem to be the preferred punching bag for the guards, so I told Lawrence early on, that should anything ever happen to me, I want only him to treat me; I don't care how bad my injuries are, only he is allowed to treat me.

This is the third time this week I've ended up in our makeshift hospital, no one but Lawrence will even come near me in fear that my bad luck might rub off on them. I'm more than sure Lawrence knows I'm a woman, but he still hasn't said a thing about it to me.

All I know is that I can trust him... I hope.

_______

Lawrence's POV:

Bailey Stevens... quite a good soldier from what I remember, but I barely know him really, or should I say 'her'; because I obviously know that this soldier is a woman, and I suspect that she knows of my assumptions.

She's extremely reserved, which is expected from everything she's been put through; the guards here seem to love beating on her. I'm not sure whether it's due to her being physically smaller than everyone, or because she has an intrinsic need to act; probably both.

I can't help but feel a need to protect her, she's like the rebellious sister I never had. I can't allow the Japanese - or anyone for that matter - to figure out that she is a woman. Who knows what they would do to her.

_______

She's been unconscious for a couple of days now, only having brief periods of consciousness where she might drink some water, or says 'hello' before going back under. I don't know what to do anymore, I've told our doctor everything, and I've done everything he's told me to do, but she still sleeps the days away.

To add on, I've got another friend here now, Maj. Jack Celliers, another determined soldier who was born to act. I know I'll have my hands full with these two when they both get back on their feet.

__

It's late into the night when her form begins to stir, I quickly sit up, wondering if today will be the day her strength returns. I must admit that I've missed her rebellious spirit, though I also fear how she will react to having possibly lost sight in her right eye.

Her eye flutters open, wandering around the rundown building before focusing on me. She tugs the covers tightly against her chest, and I can see the underlying fear emanating from within her gaze, I can only offer her a soft smile to try and calm her down.

"I know Bailey... I know. No need to worry, your secret is safe with me." My tone is gentle and friendly, and I can see her body losing the tension that had been building. Releasing a quiet sigh before bringing a hand up to her face, gently running her fingers over the gauze covering her right eye. I feel my body slightly go rigid as she looks to me for an explanation.

"Bailey, during your last beating... you were struck quite a few times to the head... It caught you right in the eye. We're not sure whether you'll have sight in it when it's healed...I'm sorry."

_______

Bailey Stevens' POV:

My chest tightens at the explanation, knowing you might lose sight in one of your eyes is an incredibly scary thing to be told. Especially in a place like this where surviving is already hard. I raise my gaze to Lawrence and see the sadness in his eyes, he looks ashamed of telling me about my injuries, almost as if feeling at fault.

I reach out my left hand, softly resting it atop his.

"It's alright, it's not your fault." I offer him a gentle smile as he gives me his own. Our moment is interrupted by the groaning of another person, I look to him in question as to who it is. He responds with another smile before shaking his head.

"That's another troublemaker quite like yourself, Bailey." His voice contains a sad humor in it, one that makes me want to laugh and frown at the same time.

"What's his name?" My voice is a whisper, but I have switched to my normal tone, it feels refreshing not having to hide who I am.

"That would be Jack Celliers. He quite reminds me of you actually, almost ironically." His tone once again holds that same gloomy humor. I however feel my eyes widen in shock as I hear his name, my heart rate increasing at the thought of it being my Jack Celliers.

"Jack Celliers?" My voice holds confusion as well as surprise, I never thought I would see him again until the war ended, that or in heaven. When he left for the war, I knew he might never return, so I put on my disguise and rolled the dice. It's been so long that I thought I might never see him again, but here we both are, stuck in the same POW camp.

"Yes.... Do you know him?" Lawrence looks confused at first, but upon seeing the worry on my face, he quickly contorts into a knowing gaze; a small smirk grazing his features at my lack of response.

"Ahh, so you do know him." His voice raises above a whisper slightly, and I quickly shush him, not wanting anyone to wake up and hear our conversation.

"Yes... Yes, I do know him. Is he alright? What's happened to him? Is he going to be oka-"

"Slow down there Bailey... When he arrived his condition was just as bad as yours, but the doctors say he's recovering quite well and will be good as new soon." My whole body relaxes at hearing he's getting better and will be alright. As I lean back, a strong sense of sleepiness rushes over me, that and the pain of my beatings; but I've never fought harder in my life to keep my eyes open, I know Lawrence can tell I'm struggling.

"Is there anything you might want me to tell him should he wake up before you?" He speaks quickly, wanting to give me enough time to respond before I lose consciousness.

"Tell him.. tell him Sadie says 'hi'." You can practically hear my smile as I tell him to use my real name. He also gives me a smile, and that's the last thing I see before darkness consumes my vision once more.

_______

Lawrence's POV:

Sadie, what an oddly fitting name for the girl who acts to survive.

I quietly walk over to Jack's bed to see if he's is awake. I'm not sure this is the best time to tell him, but at the same time, who am I to withhold this information.

As I reach his secluded sleeping arrangement, I watch as he turns slightly, his eyes fluttering open. Recognition flows through them as we look at each other.

"Hello Jack."

"Lawrence." His voice is gravely, and I can tell his body is exhausted. I slowly sit on the bed beside his own, rubbing my hands together in thought. He looks at me as he awaits what I am clearly contemplating saying.

"Jack... Is there the possibility that you know someone named Sadie?" My voice is hesitant as I speak, but the look of recognition over hearing her name immediately tells me everything I need to know. He carefully nods his head, his eyes now fixed on me with a new sense of focus.

"I only ask because another soldier recognized your name and asked me to tell you 'hello'." I can see the confusion swirl in his mind as to how another soldier knew your name, or why they would ask me to say 'hello'.

"Jack... That soldier is a woman, who goes by the name of Sadie, and claims to know you. Is there something I should know?" When he hears that the said soldier is a woman, his body jolts forward, not only in shock, but concern as well. I don't know their past, but the way they react to hearing about each other tells me they are much more than friends.

"I have to see her." Jack gasps, hurriedly stumbling to get out of his bed. I immediately rush forward, providing support for him as he attempts to stand.

"Are you sure about doing this right now? How about in the morni-"

"No, I need to see her. NOW." He doesn't raise his voice at all throughout his sentence, but the way he speaks is with such conviction, such certainty and determination that I know there will be no talking him out of this. I hesitantly nod my head, helping him walk over to her own secluded sleeping area, carefully setting him down on the bed beside hers.

He just sits there, staring longingly at her unconscious form. He looks sad, depressed even, at the sight of her. His hand slowly reaches out, softly gliding his fingers over the rough gauze that covers the right half of her face.

"How... What happened?" His tone exudes concern, but his face remains stoic.

"She tried to stop the guards from harming another soldier, I suppose you could say she got their attention." My sentence is formatted in a humorous way, but my tone remains serious. She nearly died from this, I don't find anything about that to be funny.

Jack sat there for a few more moments, just silently thinking to himself as his fingers continuously drift along the gauze.

"Will she be alright?" His tone is slightly higher, like what happens when your throat tightens up in the early stages of despair. I can tell that seeing Sadie like this brings him immense pain, maybe even guilt, but I know that he probably doesn't want me to bring it up.

"She's quite the fighter, just like you. The doctor says she should be fine, but we have no conclusive evidence on what will happen to her eye. Odds are 50/50." I try not to sugarcoat anything, but I also try to be respectful of what I say. This is the woman he loves, the last thing he needs to hear is that she might not make it.

Jack solemnly nods his head. I move forward to help move him back to his bed when he suddenly looks up to me.

"Can I stay here? In this bed?" His eyes are pleading for me to say yes, and I know that if the woman I loved were here, I too would want to stay right next to her.

"... Alright, you can stay here. But there are some things you should know first. No one else but us two know that she is a woman, alright? And she goes by the name Bailey Stevens, so when she does come around, and others are awake, just call her Bailey, alright?" Jack's eyes burn with curiosity at hearing her chosen name, but he nods his head in understanding.

I say goodnight to him, before turning and walking off a little bit. Slightly intrigued, I turn and watch from afar as Jack gently kisses one of her hands before laying down in his own bed, not once facing away from her. My mind only has one thought running through it the entire time:

"This could either be really good, or really bad."

Senseless Reality

It was early on a Thursday morning when she received the dreadful news that her husband was dead.

She had been wondering why he didn't return home last night, even waiting by the phone, eventually calling him but never receiving an answer.

She had just walked her children, Lisette and Alonso, down their lengthy driveway to the school bus awaiting, softly waving goodbye as it noisily drove away, finally letting her smile and hand fall as the bus went out of view.

Turning back to walk home she realized the birds were being particularly quiet, abnormally so, it made the silence uncomfortable as she was trapped with her ceaseless thoughts; not even the breeze rattling the fallen leaves was as loud as usual. She smoothed her black braided hair to the side before tugging uneasily on the sleeves of her blue-grey sweater, tightly wrapping her arms around her body as she began the walk back home, listening closely to the crunch under her shoes, her mind still wandering in confusion as to where her husband, Ryker, was.

A few steps away from her porch she slowed her walking as she heard the sound of a car, her steps faltering slightly as she turned around, revealing the stand-out black and white pattern of a Belmont, Ohio police car driving towards her. The glare against the windshield from the grey sky made it impossible to see who was driving, leaving her unsure whether to feel overjoyed or distraught at it's surprise appearance.

The closer it drove the quicker her heart beat, taking in shallower breaths as she watched the car pull to a stop a few feet away. Her hands subconsciously wringing each other as she waited for the car door to swing open, suddenly feeling uncomfortably hot even though it was fairly chilly. She knew the dangers her husband was in due to his line of work, and knew that he could be injured or killed on any call-out; but nothing would prepare her for the despondent look on the officers face as he stepped out of the car.

Ryker was on call with his partner for a breaking and entering in a residential zone, the criminal had gone out the back and rounded the house to come up behind them as they went to enter through the busted doorway, shooting both several times in the back before running. The police were currently searching for him, but only have two witnesses, one who glimpsed him as he began to bust open their door, and a neighbor who saw what was happening and called the cops.

As the officer explained what happened her mind went blank, the already dampened noise of the forest completely disappearing and that uncomfortable heat suddenly vanishing, leaving her body instead feeling empty. She quickly found herself forced back into reality when the officer had reached out to touch her shoulder, it wasn't rude or unwelcome since this officer was real good friends with herself and Ryker, but the sudden and unexpected contact shocked her enough to jerk her shoulder away and take a step back. He immediately withdrew his arm, his gaze cast down towards the floor, whilst she dawned a regretful look as she realized her actions.

She finally said, "I'm sorry Carter, I-I just feel slightly overwhelmed at the moment." Her voice timidly quiet, a slight stutter as she tries to understand and control all the emotions suddenly running through her. A look of understanding washes over his face before nodding his head solemnly and turning back to his car, "Goodbye Saden." Carter spoke, offering a brief, sad smile before stepping into his car and driving off.

There were many thoughts rushing through Saden's head, all of the news not hitting her fully yet. With her mind racing she slowly made her way into her cabin home, locking the door before resting her forehead harshly against the stained wood, giving herself one moment of peace before pushing off and heading to the phone to make a couple of calls.

-------

The house is dark, giving off an unsettling and discomfited aura; the sun not having risen yet and no lights nearby, yet here is a boy with his school uniform and backpack on quietly closing the front door. He starts walking away from his house quickly, the anxious atmosphere surrounding him slowly dissipating the further he got, his tensed shoulders and on-edge look lessening to simply slight paranoia.

He has a scar above his eye, its somewhat red color making it obvious against his pale skin. He got this scar the same time he lost his mother and half-sister, the car crash was brutal, only him and one of the other cars passengers having survived.

He shades his eyes away from the blinding headlights that pass by every so often as he walks down the pavement, his paranoia disappearing the closer he nears Bingham's Pond. He finds a spot away from the road, setting his bag down as he observes the slumbering swans and ducks. A small smile graces his features as he remembers when he and his mother, Liz, would come here early in the morning to talk and watch the sunrise before school; his smile disappearing as quickly as it had arrived as he realizes he can only come here alone now. He could always ask his step-father Alec to come with him, but he dreaded any response Alec gave, especially now that he was the only one to survive the car crash.

In an attempt to shake his thoughts away from the past he glances back to the swans, admiring their beauty against the dark water. The first few sun rays start to glow against the dim sky, a slight breeze causing him to shiver as he has no uniform jacket since that costs extra money. As he sits down and leans against a tree he winces at the pain flaring up in his back before shaking it off and pulling his bag towards him, unbuckling the freezing metal and reaching in, pulling out a folder containing unfinished homework; a lot of them had crumples and tears even though he kept them neatly in a folder.

Releasing a weary and exasperated sigh he began working, starting with his name, 'Archer Carlisle', his cold hands making it harder to write and a look of aggravation flashes through his eyes as he knows that he will not get all this homework done before school; dread filling him at the thought of having to tell Alec about the bad grade even though his unfinished and torn homework was Alec's fault. With another sigh he got back to work, attempting to finish as much of it as quickly and as accurately as possible.

-------

It's been a week since I was told about his death, I already knew that I couldn't stay in our comfy Ohio home, especially since Ryker built it; just walking through the door caused a nauseating feeling to wash over me knowing that I'll never see him again.

The funeral was yesterday afternoon... The black dress I wore is now a pile of grey ashes in the firepit. My daughter Lisette went with me, it was a windy day with a sprinkle of rain dusting the ground outside; it seems that the world was even mourning the loss, but that's probably just me putting meaning into simple things.

My son Alonso took the death of his father very hard, I know how close they were, and seeing my son crying made a tear break through my facade of strength, but I had to quickly wipe it away as I embraced my weeping son. His cries lasted for an hour, Lisette began to cry as well when she saw Al's shaking form being comforted by mine. That night I stayed with them in their room, sitting on the carpeted floor between their two beds, one hand grasped in each of mine as I told them stories to lull them to sleep. When I knew they were asleep, I continued to hold their hands, leaning my head back against the wooden wall as I stared up at the ceiling, the light from the moon creating shadows of tree branches against the opposite wall. I simply sat there, thinking about the calls I made the day I received the news; by next week, what's left of my family will be in our Scotland cottage, away from here, away from him.

I still need to tell the kids, I'm not sure how to tell them we're moving away, away from everything that reminds us of their father. I can only hope they will not despise me for this decision, but just staying in this home causes my mind to wander in a direction I will not allow myself to go in.

------

The bell rings loudly as I rush into the closing door of my classroom, glancing around the room I see everyone already seated and the teacher watching me pointedly. Lowering my gaze, I straighten out my homework and turn-in the messily finished pages to the basket before traipsing past my teacher's desk to reach my seat, avoiding his and everyone else's gaze at all times.

I know I shouldn't be frightened by my teachers, but Mr.Curraigh has the same stern voice as Alec, and I can't help but be anxious whenever I step foot into his class; his strict rules and intimidating stature don't exactly help me when trying to differentiate the two.

Mr.Curraigh glances up from his computer to me, I swallow nervously and shuffle slightly in my seat as I look down to the paper I delicately placed onto my desk. The class's quiet chatter had resumed a few moments ago, but was quickly halted again when Mr.Curraigh pushed his leaning figure off of his desk and leisurely strided to the front of the class.

"Mr.Carlisle, wish to explain to the class why you were late? Again." His nonchalant first sentence greatly contrasted his harsh enunciation of 'again'. Subconsciously I lower my head as the class is silent, other classes might giggle, but they know not to screw around in this class.

I shake my head 'no' not fully trusting my voice to answer without stuttering.

"I can't hear you Archer. Will you explain to the class why you were late." His sharp, accented voice rang out against the stillness and left no room to avoid his question. I know he is looking at me as he awaits his answer. I finally look up at him, answering quietly as my gaze constantly flickers between him and the ceiling.

"I overslept sir, I won't let it happen again." I tried to present a calm face to hopefully stop him from calling me out again, my mind inside is blaring with thoughts of whether he will accept the excuse or not. A second passes before he walks back to the whiteboard and begins writing, everyone quickly copying it down in their notebooks, the conversation seemingly forgotten. An inkling of worry continued to nag in the back of my head that he knew my excuse was a fake, but I had no time to give it any contemplation as I was already falling behind on the notes, and my recent wrist injury isn't exactly going to benefit me either.

Class has finally ended, most people were packed up and waiting by the door for the bell, only a few people were sitting at their desks. I tuck the assigned homework into their folder, placing my notebook in my bag as well. I reach for the folder when another hand grasps it first, a hand belonging to no student. I keek my eyes up before quickly looking down at the desk, it was Mr.Curraigh who was holding my homework folder, he was leaning against the desk as he skimmed through the now open folder.

"Y'know, your organization and care doesn't add up when you turn in ripped papers." He states as he slowly closes the folder, holding it out for me to take, which I quickly follow through with, silently placing it in my bag.

"You want to tell me the real reason you always seem to be running late?" Mr.Curraigh questions, his normally loud and stern voice now quieter and containing a hint of concern. It's been a few moments and I have yet to respond when he voices,

"Archer, if you have a real reason as to why you are late, I understand, but I can't accept these fake excuses anymore. This is the 10th time you've been late. If you can't give me a real reason then I have to give you detention." His voice was never very strict or harsh throughout the sentence, having more of a warning tone to it, but all I can muster as a response is to uneasily shake my head 'no' as I look up to meet his gaze. Mr.Curraigh simply looks forward for a second before releasing an exasperated sigh and pushing off of the desk.

"Don't be late for detention Mr.Carlisle." Is all he says before walking back to his desk, the bell ringing and the students rushing out of the door, myself following immediately as to not be late to my next lesson. My thoughts for the rest of the day are clouded with how Alec will react when I come home late, how he will react when I tell him I got detention again. The dread pools in my chest, making it feel tight, the air suffocating me as I trudge through the day.

------

First day in our new home, it was a cottage that my parents owned and I inherited. Far away from Ohio, far away from Ryker, all the way in Glasgow, Scotland, located in a nice area with lolling green fields and a stone wall neatly surrounding it.

Lisette and Alonso had taken the move better than I expected, it would seem they wanted to get away as much as I did. I had called ahead to make sure the cottage was ready for when we arrived, and a friend of my parents is coming over to watch my children since I have to go to my job as soon as possible.

Rushing out of the house, I briskly give the friend a hug, quickly stating the time I'll be home before racing over to my rented Volkswagen vehicle. My bags strap twisting as I attempt to situate everything in the car, I quickly shove it into the passenger seat before adjusting the mirrors and heading off to my new job.

The grey clouds littering the sky remind me a lot of home, but this busy city is exactly what I need to get away from my small town life. Driving on the left side is quite odd though, something that'll take some getting used to.

As I pull into the parking lot I notice that school is nearing the end of the day, I hope I won't get fired before I even start. Quickly stumbling through the office door, I straighten my posture and shirt before walking to the front desk and stating I am the new science teacher. The woman smiles before phoning someone, I assume the principal or maybe another teacher.

After waiting for around 2 minutes, the office door loudly clamors open, a tall man with thick light brown hair and an intimidating stature strides in, giving a small nod to the woman before approaching me. I stand up and shake his offered hand.

"Hello there, I am Mr.Curriagh or Aric, I am here to escort you to your class." His voice has a thick accent to it, something I will have to get used too now since I'm living in Scotland. His intimidating posture seems to contrast with the friendly smile he offers.

"Pleasure to meet you Aric, I'm Saden." I politely respond before allowing him to lead me out of the office and down the hallway.

"So, you're the new science teacher?" He voices in slight curiosity, continuing to navigate the empty halls.

"Yes, what do you teach?" I question, walking faster to keep up with his brisk pace.

"Oh me? I've always been a literature person." His charismatic response causes a small smile to appear, the fact that people here are so nice and welcoming is something I adore. We come to a halt after another moment of walking.

"Well, this is your class, though you arrived a bit late." He explains as we watch through the window as students packed their bags. I release a quiet sigh, of course I would miss the whole first day of my job.

"Don't worry about missing your class, you can pop in to help with detention or explore the grounds." Aric states as he flickers his eyes from the window to me, I'm about to respond when the bell rings loudly, echoing through the empty halls before the classroom doors swing open and students file out. We both stand near the window of my classroom until the halls quiet down again, only a few students standing around, whilst some are just now finishing packing up.

Aric turns to speak to me again when his gaze turns to something behind me, his sudden shout startling me, and I quickly turn around to see the culprit.

A young boy with dark brown hair immediately halts, his eyes going wide at being shouted at, his arm tightening its hold around his book clutched against his chest.

"Archer. Detention is in the other direction." Aric states as he walks up to the student. I would expect any student to be nervous at being called out by a teacher, but this student, Archer, appeared downright terrified.

Before Archer is able to respond, Aric begins to speak again. "This is the second time you've attempted to skip detention, Archer." Giving a slight break as he waits for a response, after receiving none he let out a groan of irritation before stating, "Come with me Archer." Beginning to walk back over to me, Archer trailing a few steps behind with his eyes trained on the floor.

"I'm sorry to cut your tour short, but I have to escort this student to detention." Aric states as he glances back to Archer.

"Quite alright Aric, mind if I come with? I did miss my first day after all." I question, glancing at Archer, his eyes not having moved from the floor the whole time. Aric briefly nods his head before leading the way to detention. I quickly follow, attempting to keep up, listening as Aric describes the parts of the school we pass through.

------

Who is this person? Is she the new teacher? She did say she missed her first day here, and our new teacher for science was unable to show up.

I lift my head up, my eyes looking at her for a moment as I contemplate whether I should ask my question or not. Finally giving in to curiosity, I ask, "Are you the new science teacher?" My question seems to startle them both out of their small talk, Mr.Curraigh now silent as we await her response.

She turns to me and offers a friendly smile before responding, "Yes that's me, you can call me Mrs.Monroe." Her response is nice but short, and her voice seemed to waver slightly when she said her last name, causing my head to tilt ever so slightly in confusion at her reluctance to speak her last name.

"It's nice to meet you Mrs.Monroe, my name is Archer." I respond, my voice seeming more confident and louder than my normal tone, though I barely give it any thought. For what time was left of the walk to detention, I spent it talking to Mrs.Monroe, I don't know why, but she seemed easier to talk with, it could've been from her non-intimidating stance and height, or possibly that she reminded me of my mother, both of which are plausible.

We were talking about the book I was holding, "Great Expectations", when Mr.Curraigh comes to a halt, the room that detention is held in being right in front of us. I reach out to grab the handle, momentarily forgetting about my wrist injury until I release a grunt of pain, immediately pulling my wrist back and holding it against my chest as the harsh gripping agony floods my system, reminding me of yesterday.

Both Mr.Curraigh and Mrs.Monroe seem shocked at my sudden outburst of pain, Mrs.Monroe is about to say something but I have no time to think, stumbling backwards I turn slightly and run off. I go to the only place I feel safe, Bingham's Pond, or Swan Pond as my mother used to say; just remembering that causes a wave of anguish to sweep through my body, all these things that keep happening are too overwhelming. First I lose my mother and sister in a car crash, then my step-father(who already disliked me) blames me for it, and now I have a teacher who reminds me exactly of my mother, I simply don't know how I should feel or respond to these situations anymore. I'm so caught up in these prolific thoughts and aching pain that I fail to hear the footsteps approaching me.

It was the sudden hand on my shoulder that caused me to gasp in surprise at the presence of another person. Quickly turning my head I expect to see an angry Mr.Curraigh or possibly Alec, but I am instead met by Mrs.Monroe's sad smile as she crouches next to me. Reaching out her hand for my wrist I flinch away, but after another second I allow her to see my wrist, ignoring the possible consequence that she might question how I sustained this injury.

It was the slight widening of her eyes that caused me to follow her gaze, I chose to never look at my injuries, so seeing my wrist all swollen and bruised causes my eyes to widen as well. She lightly touches my wrist and I immediately pull away, the pain scorching through my arm. She seems to sit there in a moment of thought, as though contemplating what she should say.

"Archer. How did this happen?" There it was, the one thing I didn't want to hear. I shake my head and look away, only now realizing that a few tears had streamed down my face, quickly wiping them with my free hand. I don't hear a response to my refusal so I glance back, seeing Mrs.Monroe holding back tears as well, though why, I do not know. Shaking her head, she pushes herself off of the floor, and reaches out a hand for me, which I slowly take. Now standing I dust myself off with my good hand, loosely holding my backpack as I await her questions.

All she does is, seemingly shake her head to herself, before motioning for me to follow her. She leads me back to school, never speaking or glancing to me, just staring forward, almost emptily. She takes me to the medical room and tells me to wait by the door as she walks away to converse with a nurse. I wonder what she is saying, does she suspect that my step-father caused these injuries? Or does she think another student did this to me? Should I just run while I still have the chance? My thoughts are abruptly halted as both Mrs.Monroe and the nurse walk over to me, my nervousness kicking in at another person now being present.

I attempted to not pay attention to the flare ups of pain as the nurse wrapped my wrist in an ice bag, the freezing cold making me shiver as the weather outside was already chilly. After a few minutes of icing my wrist she brings out a compression bandage, snuggly wrapping my wrist and hand, the pain has lessened, but maintains a steady ache that surrounds my whole arm. When she finishes she gives me instructions to do daily, and a note for class seeing as that was my writing hand.

Walking over to the door, I spot Mrs.Monroe waiting there, her friendly smile replaced by a serious and stern look, one that makes my steps a little more hesitant. We leave the med room and walk out into the quiet, desolate hallway, her face still serious as we both stop.

"How did you get that injury Archer." It wasn't a question, but something that demanded an answer, one I was extremely reluctant to give. Angling my face away from her I shake my head 'no' again, not wanting to tell her the truth, my mind blaring that it would cause more pain than good, that even if she did believe me no one else would.

"Archer, if you don't tell me, then I will have to tell the office to call your dad." She states, her voice losing some of it's sternness as she attempts to get me to answer.

Hearing her call Alec my dad causes all these feelings to just explode, my anger is flowing freely, and I can't help but react chaotically, "HE'S NOT MY DAD!" My shout echos down the hallway, the silence left in its wake is uncomfortable, all that anger-driven confidence quickly leaves my body as I exhale. She's not stupid, she's going to figure out what's going on, I'll be taken away from my home, the last place that reminds me of my mom and sister.

Her posture seems to stiffen after hearing my response, I can only hope she won't be angry with my outburst.

"I'm only going to ask you one more time. Who did this." Her voice was deathly quiet, the second sentence being harshly enunciated and leaving no room for excuses. I finally face her, though my head is still lowered, my eyes flickering up to her every so often as I contemplate what I am about to say.

"....Alec." My voice practically a whisper, though I know she heard it, and knowing that someone else is aware of this secret just causes me to feel... vulnerable.

Alec Hardy: A Messed Up Situation

Imagine your step-father abuses you, and you finally break; leading to an investigation and interview/questioning with a detective(Alec Hardy):

- Lil warning: mention of parent death, eludes to drugging, alludes to rape, pedophilia, rape, molestation, minor reader/underage reader, abuse, battery, alludes to non-con -

"Help! Someone! Please!!"

My voice strains against the hand, I've never been attacked, let alone raped before, and I certainly didn't think I ever would be. The only thing making a bad situation worse, is that fact that this is my step-father.

_______

My father was killed in a car crash when I was 12, my mother was all I had left, but it seems I wasn't enough.

The month after his funeral, she returned home, hanging on the arm of a 30 something year old man, his smile seeming to grow even wider when he spots me.

His name is Steven, and he looked to be 5"11, with dirty blond hair that was brushed to the side and light stubble on his jaw. He seemed friendly enough, and he was always playing games with me whenever he was over.

He came over often after that night, practically living at our house, so I got to know him fairly well. He always wanted to be near me, sitting next to me, placing his hand on my shoulder.

Something I always found odd was how it seemed he would lightly flirt with me whenever my mother was gone. He would do it quickly, so quick you would miss it if you blinked; but I ignored it because he made my mother happy.

After a year of them dating, he officially moved in, right in time to celebrate my 13th birthday. That night was great, I invited all my friends over to the beach, we spent most of it in the ocean, but also had a lot of fun chasing each other and building sand castles. When I got home that night, he helped my mother to bed, and I quickly disappeared into my bathroom.

Though I had a great time, I had been making an effort to avoid Steven. His flirting was getting heavier and making me uncomfortable, he always stares at me, and always wanted to be touching me, whether it be him holding my hand or grasping my arm.

That was the night he first kissed me, he had cornered me after my shower, and his facial expression looked restrained, almost as though he was holding back a wild beast. He made me feel disgusted with myself, why was he doing this? He said I had been teasing him ever since I met him, but this just makes me even more confused, how did I tease him?

_______

The following year after that was normal, he would still hold my hand or hold me in a lingering hug, but he never kissed me again apart from kissing my forehead. He started to feel more like a father, or maybe that is what I made myself believe.

He married my mother the day I turned 14, it was sort of a special wedding-birthday mix thing. It was a lot of fun, my friends and their families were invited to the wedding, and my mother looked the happiest I'd ever seen her. Her white dress was beautiful, but she said I stole the show with my light lavender dress. That whole day and night, I felt eyes lingering on me, but I pushed the thought away, instead choosing to enjoy the wedding.

When we returned home from the wedding, my mother was acting strangely, her words were slurring and her movements droopy, this level of exhaustion seemed abnormal.

Steven put her to bed as I headed to my room to do the same. I was about to begin undressing when I heard the door to my room creak open, I quickly turned around, spotting Steven entering my room. He seemed so awake, but his calm demeanor made everything feel eerie.

"Here, let me help you." I didn't even have time to stop him, he had already grabbed the zipper for my dress, pulling it down my back slowly, almost as if savoring the moment. My body reacted in paranoia, I don't know why he's in my room, shouldn't he be with mom?

"Y'know... I've been waiting all day to take this dress off." At that moment, my paranoia seemed immensely justified. I immediately stepped away from him, but he moved quicker than me; yanking my dress down, the wispy material softly pooled around my ankles. I go to guard my body, but he's already shoving me down onto my bed, roughly holding his hand over my mouth, all the while whispering what he's going to do, and how much he loves me.

___

That night, he took everything from me, not only my innocence, but also my will to care.  It hurt so much, I was pleading for him to stop half the time, before falling silent and closing my eyes, praying that this was all a nightmare. I could feel the tears streaming out of my eyes as he hovered over me, his panting and movements forcefully reminding me of my horrifying reality.

The next morning I limped into school after rushing away from Steven and my mother. I spent the whole day in silence, never raising my hand, refusing to talk when called on.

This behavior continued for the next week, going to school barely half-alive, and then going home and laying in bed; Steven coming in any time possible to satiate his hunger. I don't know how my mother never noticed, but I pray she wasn't turning a blind eye to my fucked up situation.

I began making myself throw up, I don't know why, but it was something to help distract me. Some of the teachers pulled me to the side, asking me why I didn't play with the other kids anymore. I always shrugged my shoulders, refusing to speak.

After a month of Steven's continuous abuse, I finally did something that put all the teachers on edge.

___

It was an unnaturally hot day, and I made the mistake of taking my jacket off during recess.

My arms had a few bruises along them, but the most worrisome things they saw were the bruises around my wrists, they had distinct marks where Steven's fingertips had dug into them too harshly.

A small group of school teachers and others approached me. Mr.Rivers, a kind younger man who had the role of vice principal, made the mistake of lightly grasping my shoulder to get my attention. I shuddered away from his touch, cries of fear escaping my mouth as I fell backwards and to the floor. They all seemed shocked by my reaction, Mr.Rivers tries to comfort me, but I curl into myself, pulling my knees up and hiding my face against them.

I know he is distressed by my reaction, possibly feeling guilty, thinking he made me do this, but I hope he knows that he isn't the one making me cry.

The female teachers immediately move forward, some of them shooing the men away, and another carefully hugging me. I wrap my arms around her as she embraces me, holding and comforting me the way I wish my mother would.

___

I spend the next 30 minutes in an empty classroom, the same female teacher and a counselor sitting with me. They kept trying to get me to talk, but I gave only sparse answers. From the looks on their faces, they already have assumptions as to what happened to me.

My mind keeps replaying everything Steven has done to me, all the nightmares that plague me with each second of sleep I managed to attain.

I'm dragged out of my conscious terror when I hear a commotion outside of the classroom, the counselor and teacher glance at each other before getting up to investigate, but the door opens before they reach it.

A man and woman walk into the classroom, taking a quick scan of the room with their eyes before settling on my huddled form.

The man has messy brown hair that falls lightly over his forehead and a thickish layer of stubble on his jaw, he has deep brown eyes and looks eternally tired. The woman has dark brown curly hair that is pulled up in the back, she looks a lot more approachable, and is wearing a comforting yet sad smile as she gazes at me.

The counselor goes to stop them when they try to approach me, but they seem to show some sort of badge. After whispering some words, the counselor begrudgingly motions for the teacher to follow her out of the classroom.

When the door closes, I finally realize I'm left alone with these two strangers, I'm about to freak out when the woman starts to speak.

"Hello deary, I'm Ellie, and this is my partner Alec. We work for the police and we were wondering if you can help us?" She kneels down onto the floor, her voice is soft and comforting, drawing me to want to open up. I glance at the man, Alec, and my eyes tear up in fear when they meet his gaze, I quickly look away and back to the woman, hesitantly nodding my head.

She smiles, patting the chair next to her, I carefully walk over and sit in the chair, Alec pulling up one next to Ellie yet refusing to sit, instead standing behind it. They don't talk for a couple seconds, almost as though thinking of what to say.

"Can you tell us your name?" Ellie delicately asks. I glance at her eyes, before stiffly nodding.

"...Y-Y/N." I was worried that they didn't hear my hoarse whisper, but the smile she gave alerted me that I was heard. She asked me a few more questions, how I'm feeling right now, what my favorite subject was, how my parents were doing, just simple questions to establish a dialogue.

I stuttered a lot when answering the last question, I don't know how they are doing, and I don't want them being called my parents, not with what he has done to me and how she ignores what he does to me.

After the last question, a few moments of silence swirls through the air. It almost stings when I breathe in, I want to cough and yell, anything but be stuck in my mind.

"How'd you get those marks on your wrists?" This is the first time I've heard Alec talk, his voice isn't harsh like I thought it'd be, he actually spoke quite gently. This is the second time I've made eye contact with him, but instead of fear, a feeling of warmth and comfort seems to flow soothingly through me. He doesn't scare me like Steven, he actually reminds me of a teddy bear, I don't know why he is making me feel safe.

I don't answer the question, shifting my gaze to the scuffed up floor of the classroom. I can tell that Alec and Ellie are sharing a knowing look.

"You said you have a step-father, right? Steven?" I visibly recoil at the name, pulling my arms over my chest, almost as though subconsciously trying to shield myself from him.

"Don't say his name." My voice is weaker, I haven't talked this much in a while, I practically became a mute ever since he first raped me.

"Y/N... Y/N!" Alec calls my name gently at first, but the second time was a little sterner, though I don't know if stern is the right word. It's the voice my dad would use when I would ignore my chores even after he reminded me. Or when he learned I was being bullied, but I refused to tell him the bully's name.

I look at Alec, sighing in contemplation as I gaze up at him.

"Did he do this to you? Did Steven hurt you?" His question makes my heart beat faster in trepidation over what I was going to say. Was I going to tell him the truth, or was I going to lie and be abused for the rest of my life until I can leave home?

Something came over me, maybe it was how I was starved of real fatherly affection, or maybe it was how I finally felt seen and understood that caused me to stand from my chair and rush over to Alec's standing form.

One second I was rigidly sitting in a cold chair, and the next I was wrapping my arms around a man that represented the father figure I so desperately needed to comfort me.

Alec seemed stunned, this was probably the last thing he expected to happen, but after realizing what was going on he delicately wrapped his arms around me, hugging me back. I can't hold it in anymore, I cry and sob against him as he comforts me, hugging me tightly to him as he calms me down.

"Steven, he... he... he rapes me."