Hi again! Okay, so this as a gift to you, Mell. Your bad day equals me maiming Ricky...and Amy. She couldn't get out of this fic unscathed for some reason. Apparently I'm twisted on the inside.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Secret Life Of The American Teenager nor am I making any profits on it.
Note: This takes place any time after Amy getting her license/SUV.
Warning: This fic is somewhat dark. I don't want to say how exactly and spoil the impact, so just be warned. This isn't M because it's smutty.
Savior
One-Shot
There was blood on the pavement.
Blood on the ground and tears on their faces.
Ricky's hand reached up, grabbing hers as she dabbed at the cut below his eye. She jumped, startled.
"D-D-Did I hurt you?"
Ricky shook his head, squeezing her hand as he moved it away from his face. "Hey, look at me," he almost whispered.
Her eyes met his, glassy green meeting glassy brown as she finally broke. She fell forward, face pressed against his chest as her arms wrapped around his waist in a death grip. Shoulders heaved as sobs racked her body, hard and unrelenting as the reality of what happened crashed down around her.
She cursed under her breath as she checked her watch again. Late. She was so late. Band practice had run so late after school and she'd lost track of so much time. Ricky had made it out of there over half an hour ago. He'd offered to help her get her stuff together and she'd told him to go.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she muttered, almost shouting as the strap of her bag broke. She was never going to make it to work. She'd already called and told them she was going to be late and now she was going to be even later. Great. Just great.
"Need some help?"
She looked up, eyes meeting the face of...oh, what was his name? He played trombone...Matt. That was it.
"Yeah, thanks," she said, shoving her math book into her bag as he picked up her history text. He handed it to her, smiling softly. She smiled back, quick, before turning back and knotting the strap of her bag. It wasn't strong, but it would last long enough to get to the car and sit there until work was over. She kept her history book in her arms, not willing to test her luck with her knot tying skills.
"I got it," he said, bending down and reaching for her French horn.
"Thanks. My car isn't far."
"That's fine."
They walked to the parking lot in silence, right to her car. She unlocked it, setting her stuff on the seat and floor of the passenger seat. She checked once more that everything was set and that it wouldn't go flying off when she all but jetted it to work. Convinced, she turned around, shifting uncomfortably when she realized how close to her Matt had gotten. "Thanks for the help, but I need to-"
He didn't say anything. One second he was standing much too close and the next, he was pushing her up and into her car, his lips on her neck and his hands ripping at her clothes. Her back was throbbing as the gearshift pressed into her spine and she screamed, letting out a strangled sob as he slapped her hard across the face.
His hand was up her shirt and under her bra in seconds, groping and searching greedily as he bit down hard on her collarbone. She tried to kick and he hit her again, this time in a punch that made her see stars. She sagged against the seat, dazed and unable to move as her jeans were ripped open and a hand shoved itself hard down her...
"Amy!"
He was off her a second later and she heard skin hitting skin, but it wasn't on her. She blinked her eyes blearily, trying to focus on what was going on outside her car. They were blurs of color, red and blue.
Red hit Blue and Blue hit the ground. There was a sound, boot hitting flesh and a pained gasp that she didn't think came from Red. Red was back on her in a second, trying to shove her body the rest of the way into the car, but Blue was back up and fighting. Blue pulled Red away and shoved Red against the car. A punch, another punch. Blue was shouting, but she couldn't understand the words. They slurred together in her mind as it tried to find its footing.
The figures slowly started to come back, turning into human-shaped forms until she could suddenly recognize faces. Red was Matt, throwing Blue against the ground. More kicks and Amy saw blood start to come out of Blue's mouth.
Wait...
Not Blue...
Ricky.
Oh, God.
She shouted, screamed as Matt kicked Ricky again, throwing his body in between a foot and the tire of the next car. Ricky grunted, spitting more blood onto the pavement as Matt reared back for another kick.
Her next scream stopped halfway up her throat as Ricky grabbed Matt's swinging leg and twisted. Matt let out a surprised noise before he hit the ground and Ricky scrambled on top of him, blood dripping from his mouth...nose...everywhere as he laid a good punch to Matt's head. It fell short and Matt threw him off. She watched, immobile, as they rose to their feet and resumed their fight.
More punches, more body slams against cars.
Until it stopped.
Ricky grabbed Matt, slamming his head into the back window of the next car. Glass shattered around Matt's head as his body slumped, car alarm finally blaring as his body hit the ground. She was pretty sure she'd parked next to Coach that morning.
She screamed when Ricky got close to her, arms flailing out before she realized it was him. He backed off, hands held up, nonthreatening.
"Amy, it's me," he said, "Listen to my voice."
She blinked, mind slowly processing that it wasn't Matt in front of her. "Ricky?" her voice croaked, broken and scared.
He nodded. "It's me. Don't worry." He held out a tentative hand. "Come on."
She took it, letting him lift her out of the car and into his arms, hiding her face in his neck so she wouldn't have to look at...
He took her around to the other side of the car and onto the parking median. "Hey, hey, he's not going to hurt you anymore, okay? Shh."
She'd almost been...he'd tried to...Ricky had...
He saved her.
Ricky had saved her.
Her eyes drifted up to meet his, looking at the cuts and scrapes on his face, the blood dripping down his nose and into his mouth, bloodstained teeth. He took a beating. For her.
Tears poured down her face, renewed as she buried her face back in his chest. She could hear the sirens of the cops and ambulances finally arriving, could hear his groans under the voice of Coach shouting at him to get back down. His car alarm was still blaring. She wondered if his insurance would cover this.
She heard approaching feet and flinched, visibly curling into Ricky as he wrapped his arms around her back and whispered to her that an EMT wanted to check her out. She shook her head, unwilling to let go of him.
"I won't let go, promise, but you gotta let her check you out," he whispered to her softly.
Her eyes peeked open, glancing at the EMT. Female. Thank God. She didn't think she could...she didn't want a man near her right now.
"I'll need to look at you, too, sir," the EMT reminded him, "and the officer will need your statement."
"At the hospital," Ricky replied, "please. I don't want to..." His grip on her tightened.
She nodded at him, speaking softly with another cop for a second before nodding at him again. "At the hospital."
Ricky's thank you was so quiet she almost didn't hear it, guessed he'd meant to mouth it, but his voice had peeked through.
She pulled away from him to let the EMT examine her, blushing hard as she realized how ruined her clothes were. Her pants hung open, displaying her black panties, and her shirt was ripped and torn, one shoulder of her long sleeve shirt completely pulled from the seam.
She didn't let go of Ricky's hand once, not as they were examined or as Ricky fought to go in the same ambulance with her. She didn't let go at the hospital or when the police took his statement. She faintly heard them say that Matt was getting medical treatment at another hospital and that Ricky wouldn't be brought up on charges.
Thank you, God.
She didn't let go of Ricky's hand when her parents got there or when they wanted to take her home. She held on through the ride and as they both lay curled up in her bed that night. She didn't let go, just nodded against his chest as her mother told her they'd take care of John that night. Her parents left them alone, trusting nothing to happen between them that night, knowing that it wouldn't. They fell asleep curled together, cleaned of blood and dirt, her in sweats and a big t-shirt and him in her father's pajamas.
She snuggled closer to him, letting the safe feeling of his arms wrap around her as his grip tightened. He made her feel safe right now, knew how to treat her. It made her wonder just how far Bob had gone with his abuse and she let out a soft sob. He didn't question it, just held her.
They lay like that for hours, neither moving unless she was burrowing closer. Just before she drifted off to sleep, she realized that while she hadn't let go of Ricky, he hadn't let go of her. He held on just as tight.
The End
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