Title: Through the Fire
Category: Misc. TV Shows - Miracles
Character (s): Travis Prescott / Jimmy
Genre: Family / Hurt/comfort
Rating: M
Warning: Abuse; Death
Disclaimer: I do not own anything that comes across as familiar.
Summary: Jimmy watched over his brother for his entire life. He saw the anguish that increased with every blow, but couldn't do anything to stop it. All he could do was comfort the boy in the silence that always followed.
Prologue
Long hair flew as a woman rushed into the bedroom. One hand cradling her seven month baby belly protectively as the other moved frantically to lock the door. The chain lock slid into place just as a first crashed into the wooden structure.
"Open the door, you worthless whore," came a harsh-sounding voice that was accompanied by another hit to the door's surface.
Tears were streaming heavily out of the woman's eyes. She backed herself into a corner with both hands clutching the expanded mound of flesh. Silent pleas tumbled from her lips; the repeated mouthings of "please," "no," and "stop" did nothing to slow or calm the man on the other side.
"Open the door or I'll break it and then you, Jeanne."
"N-no, Ed, p-ple-please. Don't hu-rt them…."
Her salty tears were coming harder as she made a pitiful attempt to blend in with the wall. Not even moments later, the little chain lock snapped apart to reveal her very pissed off partner. He was wearing a twisted smile as he knelt down beside her quaking body.
"Why do you make me do this?" he asked as a fist drove its way past her hands into the left part of her belly; an act that brought forth a true scream of pain.
"Please no. You'll kill them!"
The cries didn't help. All they seemed to do was anger him further; bringing more blows to the pregnant lady on the floor.
Eventually, as was bound to happen, she felt as though her stomach was being ripped apart from the inside. One or both of her unborn children were dead.
Rain was pouring down from the blacked sky as she stumbled through the old forest surrounding what she once called home. In her arms was the bloody remains of one of the twins wrapped in an old pillowcase. He would be buried in these sacred woods and watch over his brother. She could do little more than that.
As the tiny corpse was placed in the hand-dug grave, her tears fell harder.
"I'm so sorry, Jimmy, my little boy. Please forgive me."
She would never return to that unmarked grave in her lifetime.
"Okay, Mrs. Prescott. I need you to push now."
Her dark hair was soaked in cold sweat as she gripped the white hospital blankets tightly in both firsts and bore down with the next contraction to push the little boy out of his current prison. Unfortunately, she felt so weak that pushing wasn't likely to work on its own. She gave one push with the last of her strength and dropped back against the pillow; breath escaping in shallow gasps and her face was almost as pale as the starch white of the room.
"Not good. Nurse, help me over here. We're going to have to go in."
The doctor's gloved hands moved skillfully into the birth canal where he could feel the baby's head. His fingers carefully encased the child and began to pull it out of the opening. Once the head was out, he had the nurse unwrap the umbilical cord from around its throat so that he could slide its shoulders and the remainder of the body out.
It took a few minutes, but he finally got the little boy out into the world. His cord was cut and the nurse took him to be cleaned up. While the infant was being taken care of, the doctor checked Jeanne over and frowned sadly.
"How is she, doc?" came a voice from the doorway.
"I'm sorry, Sheriff Prescott, but I don't think she's going to make it."
The man nodded. "What about the kid?"
At this the doctor gave a small smile. "Your son is just fine, sir. He's small, but should grow up to be just like any other boy."
A small moan drew the two away from their conversation. Jeanne's eyes were barely open and her fingers were reaching out towards the door as her lips moved silently. Soon, the nurse returned with a small bundle wrapped in a pale blue blanket. This bundle was set into Jeanne's arm causing her to smile weakly.
"What's his name, Mrs. Prescott."
Ed interrupted before Jeanne could open her mouth. "His name is Travis Edward Prescott."
The doctor wrote this down before he and the nurse left the couple alone with their son. Ed was standing by the door with his arms crossed, watching his wife holding the little boy close to her chest. He watched his wife's arm drop as her chest ceased to move. When he was certain that she was well and truly dead, he picked up the child roughly.
"It's all your fault, boy. You're bad. You killed her."
As Sheriff Ed Prescott left the room with his son held a little too tightly in his grasp, the baby gave a small whimper. That whimper was echoed by that of another little boy who was all alone in the woods wearing a wooden charm bracelet around his neck. Unlike the boy wrapped in blue, the one in bloody white was calling out in anger more than sadness and fear. He felt the pain in his little brother, but was too small yet to help him.
