A/N: This fic is for my Canuck buddy dipdipdipmyblueship. I promised her a Tony related fic many months ago so here it is :) As always like with all my fics this is an alternate universe. The poem used at the beginning (except the last line) is called 'Pretext' by Lang Leav. Lastly, this is a one shot and will have a sister one shot told from the other characters viewpoint. As always thanks to all who read my stories.
Our love—a dead star;
To the world it burns brightly—
But it died a long time ago.
…There is no hope.
"Tell me how to love you?"
He always said these words to her. They were the calm that came before the storm, which was his wrath, hitting down upon her hard and with deafening blows; each one reminding her that whatever the aftermath of his anger; whether it be the scars, the aches or the bruises—the consequences of such behaviour rested solely upon her shoulders. Their love had once so wonderful until it became a terrible thing and now she just didn't know what to do anymore. She felt like she was trapped in a constant battle. Her head was always in a jumble, fighting against rationality in favour of helpless physical attraction. But her mind was now at point where it was strong enough to know one thing she couldn't excuse was that relationships should not be like this. Love shouldn't hurt. You shouldn't have to tell someone how to love you. When you love someone you just do. It can't be something that is learnt and it's not something of which to grow into.
When she had met Liam, it was so clear to Carla that he was the only man for her. She knew it right away, like she always imagined it as a little girl dressing up for her wedding day. He was her Prince Charming; the frog in the fairy tale that every girl is told only wants to desperately love you if you let him. He was the man of her dreams, or so she thought. He made her believe in every single word he ever said to her. Charismatic and magnetic, he commanded everyone's attention as he waltzed throughout the world and people couldn't help but give it all to him. She was one of those people, grovelling at his feet, obsessed with being his everything. What she didn't know is that he didn't want to be her everything, not truly anyways. He acted the part for a time. If she wanted a stable, loyal sort of guy he'd be that. If she wanted to be romanced, he became the romancer, telling her how much she took his breath away. He gave the impression that he had a solid head on his shoulders, with a successful career and with want for nothing. Of course she found that attractive which is why she was so easy for him to control. He morphed himself into whatever the person he felt she wanted at the moment so he could in turn get what he wanted from her. Carla Donovan was still in the final stages of denial about her fiancé Liam Connor.
She had learnt to believe that there was something inherently wrong within her, something that made her unworthy of love and therefore the target of his wrath as he only wished to help her improve. She was under his spell, contrite to settle for calculated brutality because he she thought of herself as someone hard to love, as someone others had to question their love for. The fact that he was going out of his way to make an effort with all the problems she cause, made Carla feel so undeserving and he so generous. It dawned on her this night, as all the finest trappings that money in Manchester had to buy for an engagement gala surrounded them that she, Carla was no longer happy. She should be. She had finally nailed her prince, but the sadness came from realizing that he wasn't anything at all charming. Sometimes a frog is just a frog. He was one of the ones masquerading as a good guy. He was her Poison Prince Harming and she needed to get out before that window of opportunity closed forever.
"Hey!" he hissed leaning into her ear, "Would it kill you to smile just once tonight?" They were talking amongst a group of close friends so Liam did his best to disguise his anger. His voice was shaky but still controlled as he spat in a whisper, "You look like you're going to bloody funeral. It's embarrassing, especially when I've done all this for you!"
Of course that's what he wanted everyone to believe, that he had put on all this extravagance for Carla's benefit. But really he was a show off, with a need to control, wanting her to believe that any problems in their relationship were coming from her end like a textbook abuser.
Carla bit her tongue, almost wincing and choking on her champagne. Feeling his grip upon her wrist, it was clear he was intent on leaving his mark. Every bruise left should have sent her screaming a long time ago and every put down should have made her insides reel. But in hopeless denial she used to choose to make these things be the reasons to make her hold on to him just that much tighter. In the past she had wanted to keep up appearances. Carla wanted to believe that if she could make people see all they thought about the golden couple as truth, then maybe she would be good enough and he would finally love her without wanting any reason. He would no longer have to figure out how to care about her anymore it would all come naturally. His touches now only made her want to run away and recoil in fear and disgust. Lately she had been having different dreams. Dreams where a future without him was actually conceivable and bearable. The illusion was falling apart, his hold finally, slowly but surely disenchanting her.
Carla thought at first that she would just ignore his hissing, remain stoic even, hoping that if she pretended he wasn't trying to make a scene then it wouldn't all unfold and really be happening.
"Hey," he said, the tips of his fingers slapping the side of her chin, like one does when trying to wake someone from unconsciousness. It was condescending and his every intention to embarrass her, "You look at me when I am talking to you," he said practically swerve jumping in front of her face and pushing her out of the circle of friends, "when I am talking to you, don't you dare disrespect me! What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you acting like you are attending someone's execution? You better smile and stop the pouting or when we get home tonight I will show something to really look sad about," he hissed making sure to contain his voice before it rose and he lost control.
Carla rushed from under his grasp, quickly seeking sanctuary in the nearest restroom before too many guests could pick up on what was happening. A single tear fell down her cheek as she stared back at the image in the reflection. It was a weak and broken woman staring back at her, completely unrecognizable. She used to say that what Liam did was okay. That questioning his love for her was out of order because nobody knows what love is until they've experienced it several times over. Even then, with all the experience, they still probably wouldn't know it when they see it. He had his ways and they weren't her ways, but even so she told herself that it shouldn't matter. Love was about expecting the good and the bad and naively she was ready to accept a whole bunch of horrible with not a lot of good. Now she realized that she was only fighting for something that had fizzled out and died a long time a go. It was a bad trait to be so hopeful in a completely hopeless situation.
In the dreams she had been having lately, there was new sort of Prince Charming that had emerged. He was the sort of man that emerged not to come rescue her but to help her rediscover the strong woman with attitude she once was. The man in her dreams had a distinct voice, a voice that made her feel confident and powerful. It's very tone was encouraging and she was drawn to it so much that sometimes the dreams ending disappointed Carla. He wasn't someone coming to rescue her like a damsel in distress and Carla felt that is the best sort of hero of all, the one who helps you save you from yourself and from the destructive people around you. It wasn't any coincidence that he was the exact opposite of Liam, this man who inhabited her dreams. He was meant to help her see all the things she could be, all the things Liam tried to suppress. Glancing out the window in the restroom, Carla took in the beauty of the night with all bright stars burning in the sky. She could be as fiery and resilient as one them and she could be just as beautiful. In fact she would be.
Marching out of the restroom, there was a new fire burning inside of her ready to fight back and find her voice. She would not take Liam's put downs and abuse or criticisms anymore. She was enraged to see her fiancé engaging in flirtations with none other than Maria Sutherland. He knew it bothered Carla when he it did this and Liam knew how it hurt her but he still flirted anyways. He was well aware of the rumours circling her head every moment. Rumours that said he had a bunch of woman on the side and that Maria basically his 'number two' on the list. Carla was disgusted with the lengths he would go through to humiliate and embarrass her by encouraging rumours about a mistress in public and especially at their engagement gala. Normally she would let it slide, because she was afraid of losing him or getting on his bad side but not tonight. Tonight things were about to change.
"Hello number two," Carla said indignant and smugly interrupting their inappropriate little cozying up session, "Not working the streets tonight, I see—" Carla let Maria know exactly what she thought of her carrying on with an attached man and with no shame.
"What?!" Liam flipped before turning to Maria apologetically and ever so sweetly expressing his outrage at his fiancée's comments before yanking Carla by the arm and towards the terrace. He couldn't get her out of view fast enough, practically throwing her outside. Carla didn't care what he did or threatened to do to her tonight because she had made up her mind that she was leaving him. "YOU FUCKING BITCH!" he screamed pushing her around, "Whom do you think you're talking to? Who the fuck do you think you are?! Huh? SHOW ME SOME RESPECT. I WILL DRAG YOU DOWN BACK TOU YOUR STREET CORNER AS QUICKLY AS I RAISED YOU!" raising his hand he smacked Carla straight across the face sending her stumbling and didn't show any signs of stopping until some one else got in between.
"HEY!" the man said coming out nowhere in the darkness and getting in the middle. He didn't waste a second before dealing Liam a blow across the face. The man was insane, kicking the crap out of her bastard fiancé while she nursed a split lip. It was like a dream come true watching her terrorizer finally get his in the end. In the past she would have probably cried for someone to stop hurting her 'precious' Liam. But now all she felt was liberated, like the chains had been broken and she was free. There was no feeling like it and there was no way she was going back to that pitiful creature that now was crouched over on the concrete moaning in pain. He was no match for her saviour and finally he succumbed to the last blow, falling over in tears.
"Are you okay?" The man finally spoke out of breath but satisfied with his work.
Carla thought she had heard his voice from somewhere before but she couldn't be sure. It was a nice Scottish accent, very sexy, very familiar…yes she definitely knew it from somewhere. It made her feel completely strong and powerful. Still in awe of the number he carried out on now ex fiancé, it took Carla a moment to finally find her voice but when she did, she made sure it had some spunk and signs of her old self come back to stay, "I will be in a moment," she said before stepping forward and getting in a few kicks of her own with her heels which she felt were well deserved for years of torment and abuse. The mans presence continued to build up her confidence, silently egging her on in this action. It was a good anger release and she knew her rescuer probably found it amusing but she didn't care. Finally with one last kick to the balls she turned around staring into those big brown eyes, "all better now. Thank—" she practically choked midway sentence. Were her eyes deceiving her? As he turned to leave, Carla considered just letting him walk away, but she couldn't. There was something gnawing at her brain even and even though it was crazy she certain she knew who he was, "I know you," Carla couldn't help but blurted out.
" I don't think so," he said again smirking.
But Carla did know him and there was something in his eyes that made Carla think he was lying and also knew her too. They had a strangely intense connection going on. It was cosmic almost, like fate. It was a strange rush that came at Carla with halt then. Her dreams before which had only basic parts to them or voices and images here and there were now becoming more vivid and detailed...lively even. There was a reason why watching him kick the crap out of Liam seemed so strangely like a trance, "I know this is going to sound…I don't know… strange but I've had a dream about this—"
"—I think I've had the same," he finally admitted after sometime quietly.
"Really?" Carla was shocked if not relieved. No wonder this all seemed like deja vu at the moment. And for some reason she felt she knew what was going to happen next and he did too, "Well what happened in yours?"
"This," His voice melted her body like molten. He was entertaining her every whim even though his eyes were reading her mind and could deduced that she already knew what was going to happen (if she were believe her dreams) shortly. It was crazy, all her senses were coming alive and she caught the scent of his cologne and felt she known that smell her whole life.
Holding her breath she savoured these senses and that the small moment in time where the window of opportunity is just about closing and the end of one relationship sometimes makes way for the possibility of another one starting. It was a feeling of hope, when hope was just about gone...the prelude to a kiss.
Carla closed her eyes waiting patiently for hers to arrive.