AVAVA

( Author's Note )

VAVAV

I Am going to start out by saying this story is one of the saddest I will write. Because of the situation. But being the saddest, means that it'll have major ups.

AVAVA

( Timmy's PoV )

VAVAV

His face throbbed, and his chest felt like it was on fire. His jaw throbbed. He could only see out of one of his eyes. Tears burned and blurred the vision of the one he could see out of. As he tried to wipe the moisture away, he stumbled across the lawns of people he didn't even know. He wasn't even sure if he was going in the right direction. He couldn't tell if he was heading towards a safe haven, or if he was heading into damnation. All that mattered was the he keep running, as he had for what felt like hours. Though in reality it had only been a few minutes. If even that long.

He tripped over something. Maybe a toy some child left out in his or her yard, a hose that hadn't been wound back up, or could have even been one of those solar lights, that hardly seemed to work, that lined some walkways. He didn't care what it was, as he hit the ground and rolled twice, coming to rest on his stomach. His breathing shuttered as he pushed himself up with his arms. Someone asked if he was alright. He couldn't even answer them without sounding like a child. He was so upset he couldn't even speak, or couldn't speak without sobbing, and he sure didn't want some stranger to watch him break down. So instead he wiped the tears out of the eye he could hardly see with, pushed himself off the ground and continued running, leaving the person to wonder what had happened to him. This strange boy who stumbled onto their lawn, that had been so beaten and bruised. To wonder where he was going, or where he was running from... or more likely, from whom he was running from.

Still he continued, the one eye he could see out of, blurring with tears. What choice did he have? He could turn around... face what he was running from, or he could continue until he stood in front of a house, a house that could be considered both a safe-haven and damnation. When he finally stopped, he looked up at the house of Safe Damnation... wondering... which fate was better. To return, to what he knew was waiting for him. Or, he could go closer... into what he didn't know. Was what he was running from, better than what could be ahead.

He walked closer to the house, deciding to take the risk, only managing to trip over something that made a large banging sound, he didn't care what it was. He righted himself, and tried to straighten his clothing best he could. He didn't know what he looked like. Only that his left eye was swollen shut, and he could barely see with the other. The dull ache in his jaw reminded him that at least one tooth was missing, he remembered the sight and sound of that small white object hitting the wood floor, after he had spat it out. He hadn't looked, but he knew his body would be starting to bruise in the shape of boot prints, or at least partial ones. He didn't know for sure, but he thought that his nose might be broken.

He heard the shuttering sound of his breathing, that was mixed with sobs that he was trying to hold back. He was fifteen now, he shouldn't be crying, not like this. A few steps brought him closer to the house that he had ran to, the house that was his last hope. Another step forward, then he took a step back as the outside light came on. Then the door opened. A redhead stood in the doorway, wearing what he thought might be pajamas, though he couldn't see well enough to be sure. She turned her attention to him standing in her yard. This girl had been the bane of his existence. They had never seen eye to eye. But he wasn't here to see her... No. He was here to see her sister. The girl that had become his best friend. His best friend, that he had hidden from her what had been going on. He'd never wanted to tell her what had been happening, had been too ashamed of it, but he had no where else to turn. He needed to talk to Tootie.

"Twerp! What the hell..." She sounded agitated, she had always sounded that way when she spoke to him, or anyone that she had babysat for. The only difference this time was when she stopped mid-sentence as he stepped closer and into the light. He didn't intend for the sight of him to quiet her. He only had stepped closer so he could answer. He thought that if he spoke softly he could hide the quiver in his voice, that he could hide the tear in the pain. But when she continued, he noticed that she no longer sounded agitated. That she sounded... somewhat concerned. It was confusing for him, "...happened to you?"

"I-I uh... I j-just wan-wanted t-to t-talk to To-Tootie." He couldn't keep his voice from breaking. He had been sure, if he got closer and spoke softer, that he'd be able to hide it, seems he was wrong. So he was sure she heard something wrong with it.

"Come on in," The redhead still sounded concerned, but then again, he couldn't see very well out of the one eye that he could see with, so he couldn't tell if she looked concerned. The redhead had been known to fool people with her voice. But he was lead in, and winced when he sat on the couch, the muscles in his chest and back burned more as he used them to sit down, then returned to just a dull throb after they were able to relax. "Tootie isn't here. She'll be back Sunday. But Timmy, what the hell happened to you? One of those bullies beat you up?"

"Uh... I... I ca-can't say... I ju-just need t-to talk to Tootie." He wished that he didn't sound like some child. He wished it was just a bully, a bully he could have handled, he could have told someone, and someone could fix it. This? He wasn't sure how he could fix this, which was why he was here to talk with Tootie. He'd hoped that she'd be able to help him figure something out. Vicki just looked at him, obviously not taking what he said for an answer, or at least an acceptable answer to her, the answer that she wanted anyways. But what was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to just tell her? Tell her something that he hadn't even told Tootie, who was his best friend, about what had been happening. That, ever since his father lost his job, he'd been drinking a lot? That, his father got mad a lot? That, for the past few months, his father had been taking it out on him? That, before he could hide all the bruises? But this time... it was really bad. He wouldn't be able to hide these.

"Don't give me that shit. Tell me what happened." her voice was stern, and caused him to flinch. It had almost the same tone that his father had gotten. The same tone she had used when he was a child... a younger child, that is. What was he supposed to do?

"Y-You wouldn't understand!" Timmy's voice raised, though not in anger, but in desperation. She couldn't understand, she wouldn't be able to understand what was going on. Her family, loved her. It had even come to a shock to him when he had found out. Her family who had once feared their daughter, loved her. Once they accepted Vicki, for who she had been, Vicki had mellowed out around them. It seemed all she had really wanted was to be accepted and understood. After that, she had lost most of her bite... Most of it.

"Oh and Tootie could?" She had a point. Tootie wouldn't be able to understand, but she was his best friend, and the person he should be able to trust above everyone else. Actually, Tootie was the only person he had left to trust. The people he should be able to trust more than anyone else... One left, and the other... was the cause of everything.

"Fine!" Timmy half yelled, half sobbed. He had no choice, he had to say something before he lost his nerve. He had to ask the person that he'd once considered an enemy for help. He had to show Vicki... had to show her, because she wouldn't believe otherwise. Who would believe that his father... usually dimwitted, and relaxed, could do... this to his own son? "I can't hide it anymore..."

AVAVA

( Vicki's PoV )

VAVAV

"Fine! I can't hide it anymore..." Timmy pulled off his shirt, revealing various bruises to her. Bruises that had been accumulated over time. Some were yellowing, that had all but vanished, to the new purplish bruises that were developing on his chest and stomach, that were boot shaped. She sucked in her breath. She'd threatened the boy countless times when she had babysat him. But she never actually hurt him. And no way in hell could she have done this to the boy, or anyone. She looked at this teen boy. A boy that despite being fifteen, was still so much smaller than the other boys. His eye was swollen shut. He had dried blood under his nose, and ran down his chin that had stained the collar of his shirt. Given the sound of his voice, it sounded like at least one tooth was missing, or his nose was broken... maybe both. Back to the bruises, it was hard to tell if the boy's chest was pale or tan, it all looked black and blue, and yellow.

"He won't stop!" She could hear the desperation, the pleading in his voice. Something that she never thought she'd hear from him. No, not from this one. Pleading from the boy that never backed down? Not like this. He had come here for help from her sister. Now he stood before her... once left with no other option... and it sounded like he was begging for her help. But that still didn't answer the question about who was hurting him, and she couldn't help... if she didn't know. "I-I just...can't, na-not anymore... I just... I just... can't. Not anymore. I need help..."

"Who?" The desperation in the boy's voice... the pleading. The fact that he was begging her for help. The sight of him broken and bruised and swollen, made her angry. More angry than she had ever felt before... and that was saying something. That was saying a lot. She wanted to break the person that had done this... that had broken this boy. Odd and strange feelings to her. She have never felt... protective... not about anyone. Maybe family... but not anyone else.

"My dad..." His voice was soft. Most of the anger ran out of her... not that she wasn't angry... It shocked her, she wasn't sure if she heard him right. Mr. Turner didn't seem to be that kind of man... even so. How could he do this? How could he do this to his own son? How the hell could anyone do this to anyone?

"Your father?" She had to ask... she had to be sure. Timmy nodded to her question, Mr. Turner did this? He hadn't seemed like a violent man. Actually he seemed rather dimwitted and carefree if she remembered right. Not that he couldn't, or wouldn't do this. The boy before her, he had been many things, but a liar was not one of them.

"H-He drinks. Ever since he l-lost his job." Timmy just seemed to melt to his knees, then rested his hands against the floor. "I d-don't wa-want to live like this... I can't."

"I... Uh..." What was she supposed to do? She had never been in a situation like this. Was she supposed to treat his wounds? Take him to the hospital? Call the police? Her mother, she would call her mother. She gently helped Timmy up, afraid that if she touched him too hard that she'd add to the bruises that covered the boy already, "Sit here... I have to... I need to..." What could she do? Damn it! What could she do... who could tell her? Who could... "Let me call my mom."

She took another look at the boy, who now had pulled his legs up to his chest, as he sat on the couch. This once strong willed boy that took everything she threw at him and bounced back without a care... almost without a care. He was falling apart right in front of her, and she didn't know what she was supposed to be doing. In all of her eighteen years, she was sure she'd never witnessed anything that made her more sad, and angry at the same time. She dialed the number to her mom's cell phone.

"Vicki? You don't normally call. Is everything alright?" Her mother's voice came from the other end of the phone. A voice that sounded like Heaven at the moment. Okay, where should she start?

"Uh... No. Everything's not alright. I... I need advice." She looked over to the boy again, and felt her heart cracking. Not something she was used to. Of course she had feelings like everyone else... but this... this was so much more... she didn't even know what to call it. Then asked for something she had never asked for... not even asked... as she said it, she felt the pleading in her voice. "I need help."

"What's wrong? What do you need help with? Advice about what?" Her mother sounded more than concerned... of course she did. Victoria Summers had asked someone for help. Not even asked... she pleaded for help.

"One of the boys I babysat for. Tootie's friend, Timmy. He... he came over here. To talk to-to Tootie. He was all beaten up and bruised, one of his eyes is swollen shut, there's blood on his mouth and shirt. I pestered him into telling me what happened. I assumed it had been some bully... so you know me, I push until I get an answer. But he said it was his dad. When he took off his shirt to show me... Mom I could SEE bruises, in the shape of boot prints... and it's not the first time. They're... they're everywhere. And I just... I just don't know what to do." Vicki could feel her throat tightening.

"Vicki. Just... keep him there, don't let him go home. Just... clean off the blood. Get him some of your sister's clothes, have him take a warm bath... we're coming home." She heard her mother talking to someone in the background... she couldn't quite make it out... it was muffled, like her hand was over the phone. "Just... don't let him leave."

Tootie and her parents were supposed to visit some water park this weekend and stay in a hotel during that time. Vicki would have gone too, if water parks had been her thing. But she burned easily, and didn't much care for all the people in the water. They had just left earlier today... she couldn't let them give that up. "You don't have to give up the weekend... I'll just..." She had to admit, that she didn't actually know what to do. "I'll just...

"We can go another weekend. I'm sure Tootie won't care, not when she finds out her friend needs help. And your father... well he didn't actually want to come." Her and her father had the same skin complexion, which meant they both burned easily in the sun. No point in arguing then.

"Alright... I guess I'll... I'll see you in a couple hours." She hung up the phone and looked at Timmy again, who was still had his legs curled up to his chest. She walked over to him, kneeling in front of him. "Timmy?" He looked up and she held out her hand, which he hesitantly took. "Come with me, let me get you cleaned up some. Then you can take a bath. Tootie and my parents are coming back."

"Really?" He sounded shocked, maybe a little hopeful. Then again, until recently, Timmy's parents all but ignored his existence, only now one of them realized he'd make a good punching bag.

"Yeah." She lead him to the bathroom, cleaned up his mouth and nose. Then started the water as she went to get Timmy a change of clothing. Him and Tootie were about the same size, except she had wider hips. He'd just have to wear a belt. Or hold up his pants.

When she walked back in Timmy was already in the tub, and didn't seem to care that he was on display for her. But then she realized why he didn't seem to care. It was that his eyes were closed, or well at least the one he could open was closed. His breathing was calm and even... as if... That fool couldn't sleep in the tub! Why kind of idiot goes to sleep in the tub, she asked herself, then tried to remind herself, of what he had went through.

"Timmy, wake up!" She looked away as he realized he was naked and she was there. "You can't sleep in the tub. You'll drown."

"O-okay."

"So you won't sleep? I don't want to. But I'll stay in here if you aren't sure." She really didn't want to watch him take a bath. She didn't want to see the boy she babysat wash himself... actually he wasn't washing himself, the warm water was supposed to help relax his muscles. Muscles that no doubt would be tight from the adrenaline, and him running here. It turned out he wasn't sure, so she sat on the toilet, facing away from the tub, with it's curtain drawn closed, as she made idol chit-chat with the boy to make sure he stayed awake.

AVAVA

Timmy had fallen asleep a couple of times while in the bath, which of course she fixed by calling his name over and over until he answered. Then once he wanted to come out, she left the bathroom for him to dry off and change into Tootie's pants and shirt, and a pair of her own boxers. Sometimes Vicki wore boxers and a t-shirt to bed, so she was glad she had something he could wear. He damn sure wouldn't have appreciated the selection Tootie had grown accustom too... when it came to underwear, that is. Though... another day... she would have found it amusing to give him a pair of her sister's panties to wear. But today... that... humor, didn't seem so funny.

AVAVA

She wasn't exactly sure how she had ended up in the position she was in, when her parents arrived home a little after midnight. But she was sitting on the couch, Timmy's head in her lap, and her slowly rubbing his back with one hand, while holding a book in the other. Of course when they walked in, they were all shocked. With good reason. She was not cuddly and nice by nature. Which should have shown them how much this threw her off stride.

"Shh!" Vicki hissed quietly as Tootie walked in and had started to say something much too loud. "You'll wake him up."

"Vicki... sweetie." Her mom started, which usually meant she was trying to figure out how to say something that she was sure that Vicki wouldn't like. "We have to wake him up. So we can see... I can't help, if I don't know what's wrong."

"Okay... Okay, I know, I know. Sorry. It's just... I'm feeling a little pro... I'll wake him up. Timmy. Timmy, Tootie and my parents are here." He stirred a bit, then finally sat up, realizing that his head was on her lap. "My laps not lava, you know." Vicki muttered.

"Are... are you alright Timmy?" Tootie asked quietly. Maybe Tootie was being quieter from when she had hissed at her. She didn't know.

"I don't know." Timmy's voice was still slightly slurred from sleep... or his missing tooth... or a combination of everything.

She couldn't stand the look in his eyes when the questions started. She kept her eye on the tears welling in the corners of his eyes, as he explained what his father had done to him. A sadness in his eyes as he showed them the spot his tooth was missing from. His eye, it told it's own story. But it was the look of humiliation on his face when he was asked to pull up his shirt that made her angry. It wasn't at her family... well not completely. They needed to see what was wrong, to be able to help. But it just infuriated her that along with everything else that Timmy had had to deal with, that he had to be humiliated as well. She reached over and lowered his shirt in a swift movement causing everyone to jump a bit.

"That's enough!" Vicki snapped, shocking everyone in the room, yet again. "You've seen the bruises. You... don't need to stare at them. Just tell me how to fix them." This shocked even her.

"Sweetie... You can't fix them. They're bruises. Only time can fix them. But the eye. Tootie go get a wash cloth with some ice in it, then bring it out here." She knew that... she knew that she couldn't just magically fix the bruises... but she had hoped. Really hoped. Then she watched as her mother and father spoke in whispers for a few moments. Tootie had returned and handed the cloth-wrapped ice to Timmy, who held it to his eye. "First things first, we'll go to bed. Tomorrow we'll figure out what to do next. Alright?"

Everyone agreed but her, though she didn't voice it. She wanted to help him now. Wanted something to be done right then. Tootie and her parents went up stairs while she still sat on the couch next to Timmy. She made him lay back down, and use her thigh as a pillow. She rubbed his back softly out of instinct more than anything else. She had always read that it was soothing. And Timmy really needed something that was soothing. She didn't know where this caring side of her was coming from, but it seemed every bit as aggressive as her meaner side. She tensed up as she felt Timmy's body shake, before she heard him crying.

"I-I don't w-want to live like th-this anymore." He muttered softly before falling asleep. How many nights had he gone to sleep, hoping that he wouldn't wake up the next morning, she wondered as she rubbed his back softly.