Her hands were shaking and they were still coated with drying blood when you found her sitting on the edge of one of the couch cushions, your brother's limp, lifeless body, lying in a pile of glass shards from the mangled remains of the coffee table at her feet, red pooling under his chest. Laura's cheeks were wet from previously shed tears, her eyes glued to the gun next to Will's body on the floor. She was mumbling something to herself that you couldn't quite understand and the look in her eyes was one of complete and utter horror. You approached the smaller girl with caution, calling her name a couple times before realizing Laura couldn't hear you. She was in shock. She had called you 20 minutes ago, crying and screaming nonsense. She wasn't making any sense and she sounded terrified. You had jumped in your car the second you heard the desperation in her voice. You pleaded with her, telling her to stay on the phone until you got there, but she told you she needed to go, mumbled something that sounded a lot like ' it was self defense ', and hung up.

You don't know what the fuck to do.

Your bastard, drunk, of a brother is lying dead in front of you and the woman you love is scared shitless with his blood on her hands. Literally.

You know it was justified because you've seen the bruises, expertly hidden from the wandering eye, beneath her clothes and the terror in her eyes when she's with him, but he's your brother for God's sake.

Well, was your brother...

Earlier

"Don't! Please! No, don't make me do this! Will! Stop !"

Will doesn't stop, though, and suddenly your hands are shaking more than ever and the grip you have on his gun is so tight there will probably be imprints of your sweaty palms in the cool metal.

"I'm only going to ask you this one more time...How long have you been fucking my sister?"

His speech was slurred with so many glasses of whiskey you couldn't even begin to count, his hair was disheveled and sticking up at odd angles as if he had just woken up and his usually clean, pressed, collared shirt was untucked from his tailored dress slacks and unbuttoned to reveal his smooth, toned chest. He was coming towards you now, empty glass in his left hand, his right clenched into an angry fist. Your head still throbbed from where he grabbed you by the hair and threw your head against the granite countertop in your spotless kitchen when you told him the three of you should go out to lunch soon. You could still feel the split in your lip when he hit you across the cheek and his wedding ring caught your skin. You could still feel the bruise under your eye that formed after he knocked you to the floor with a closed fist. Usually he wasn't so obvious. Usually he wasn't so bold, so careless. Tonight was a rough night for him, though. He was working a tough case. A homicide involving a little girl. Her file was still open on the kitchen table next to the untouched meal you cooked earlier in the evening.

"Will, I don't know what you're talking about, please!"

Except you knew exactly what he was talking about. You were in love with his sister from the minute you met her. Even before Will officially introduced you to her, you were drawn to her, almost instinctively, almost like you had to know her. You had been in a sort of relationship with her for almost two years. You had been married to Will for one and a half. He didn't have a clue. He thought you two were happy. He thought you were on your way to starting a family. He also thought you were straight.

"Laura, I need you to tell me the truth."

Your throat burned with every lie that passed your lips. Your heart broke at the look of betrayal in his eyes, but then you remembered what he did to you. You remember all the times he hit you and made you feel worthless. If you had known he was like this, you would have never agreed to marry him, even if for your own safety and benefit. You find that laughable now because even though you convinced your extremely homophobic family that you were straight, you're not safe at all in this house you call a home, especially when there's an open bottle of whiskey involved.

"I would never cheat on you, you know me...I love you, Will."

You didn't love him, not in the slightest and the words felt like acid on your tongue. You knew you hurt him, you knew you were everything to him. You knew he loved you. He just had a problem. That's how you had looked at it anyway, but after months of him violating you, you were done. Tonight was the last straw. He had hit you too hard and with no regret. Every other time he was always apologetic and sweet after. He'd always be extra careful the next day or later that night when he climbed on top of you in bed, under the covers. He always got you flowers after work as an apology. You never really forgave him, but the afternoons spent with Carmilla while he was at work made it seem okay. She made you seem okay. She was so gentle. She would caress your skin with nothing but love and you could feel it. You could feel it in the deepest parts of your soul and it broke your heart to leave her arms to go back to the man who you chose to marry for your own protection. You could see the pain in her eyes, but she knew it had to be this way. She knew what would have happened if your family knew you were with her instead of your "loving and devoted husband" as your father put it. Little did he know, his precious, straight, daughter was beaten and cried herself to sleep after her "loving and devoted husband" emptied himself into her and fell asleep naked on her chest.

"No, you see, I don't think you do."

His words caught you off guard. Suddenly his demeanor changed. He looked at you with intense, glazed eyes and your blood ran cold. You knew what was coming next and you panicked. He took a step toward you, raised his left hand with the glass and his arm drew back as your body reflexively flinched and a loud piercing ring entered your eardrums. Shattering glass and a loud clatter were the last things you registered.

You needed to get her out of here. You needed to get her cleaned up and in your car and as far away from here as possible. You needed to call your sister and explain what happened. She would take care of it. She would know what to do. She always did.

You wasted no time in racing up the stairs to Laura's bedroom and to her closet where you knew you would find her suitcase. You had hidden in there so many times when Will unexpectedly came home for lunch that you knew where she kept everything. Her dresses and suit coats were at the back of the closet, her t-shirts and cardigans to the right, the left side housed her blouses and blazers as well as her skirts. You knew she hated anything that reminded her of her "well off" lifestyle so you avoided the back and left side of the closet, choosing to focus on the right. You removed every single one of her lounge wears- as she liked to refer to them- from their hangers and stuffed the shirts and cardigans into her suitcase. You made sure to grab a couple pairs of her favorite shoes before moving onto her dresser where you pulled out stacks of underwear, bras, socks and every pair of sweatpants she owned as well as a few pairs of jeans and leggings and, without paying much attention, shoved them into the suitcase alongside the other clothes. As an afterthought, you removed a single pair of grey sweats, a plain v neck tee, and a new set of shoes, figuring she should change out of her current state of dress.

Somehow you managed to make everything fit into the single oversized suitcase and upon returning to the living room where you left her, you found Laura hadn't moved a single inch. At least she had stopped mumbling under her breath. As a last effort, you called her name and found yourself surprised when she actually looked up.

"We need to go, Sweetheart."

The tears on her cheeks were no longer dry as new ones took their place. Her hands were still trembling and the look in her eyes was heartbreaking. She didn't move for what felt like hours, but must not have been more than 30 seconds, before she shakily raised herself on unstable legs and walked to where you waited with her suitcase in one hand and a change of clothes in the other.

You watched her walk passed you and into the kitchen, stopping at the sink to wash her hands. With the blood washed down the drain, she slipped out of the black dress and heels she was wearing. You mindlessly handed her the new pair of clothes in exchange for the blood ridden dress and threw it in a garbage bag along with her heels, while she changed.

You followed her to the front door, only stopping when she paused to look back at the lifeless body of her late husband. She stared quietly for a second too long before you placed a soft hand to the small of her back and guided her to your car parked in the driveway behind Will's sports car.

She didn't say a word as you packed her suitcase and the garbage bag in the trunk.

She didn't say a word after you climbed into the front seat of your car and shifted the gear into reverse.

She didn't say a word when you pulled onto the highway, going in the opposite direction of her neighborhood.

She didn't say a word when you pulled into the parking lot of a shady motel in the next state over at four in the morning.

She didn't say a word when you called your sister at five.

She didn't say a word when you climbed into the single bed with her and gently pulled her to you.

She didn't say a word when she looked up at you with one swollen and bruised eye, a split lip, and a cut on her forehead.

She didn't say a word when she started sobbing into your chest.

You didn't say a word when she finally stopped just as the sun began to make it's appearance over the tops of the surrounding mountains outside your motel room window.

You didn't say a word when you looked down into her eyes and found that the light that you usually found comforting, had been replaced with a raging storm.

You didn't say a word when her cold eyes met yours, causing a shudder to move down your spine and goosebumps to pebble your bare skin.

You didn't say a word when she grabbed your face with both of her hands and kissed you roughly. You could taste the blood from her lip in your mouth.

You didn't say a word when she pulled back and you watched as the last bit of light and hope left her eyes.

You didn't say a word when she pulled your clothes off and left you shivering under her fingertips.

For the first time in your life, you didn't know the person hovering over your naked body with honey colored hair and brown eyes that usually held galaxies within them...

And that terrified you.