A/N: I've been toying around with this idea since, well, B99 did their witness protection arc almost two years ago. I thought it would be an interesting way to explore second chances for Sharpay and Troyella and since I had a lot of time to write during Camp Nanowrimo this year, I decided to make this bizarre idea a reality. The whole thing has been drafted, so I'll be updating regularly.
I haven't added any warnings yet, because I'm not sure what warnings exactly I should use, but I will definitely add them as I go along, so here's a heads up that this will get heavy.
(Also, yes, the title is from The Greatest Showman. I see the irony of using a TGS lyric for a HSM fic, but it fits on several levels, so leave me alone!)
Reviews are love! 3 And as always, you can find me on Tumblr at gabriellabolton (my main blog) and bisexualsharpay (my HSM sideblog).
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to the HSM franchise.
She will never forget that night.
Every single detail about those excruciating hours, down to the most specific of details and the faintest of sounds, is embedded in the back of her mind and will forever haunt her.
The most harrowing image, however, has nothing to do with the atrocious events that took place that night.
The most harrowing image is that of her daughter smiling up at her with those big blue eyes, giggling as she tries to pull on her hair.
She remembers thinking, aggravated and unknowing, that she needed a haircut. She also remembers the hollow ache in her heart at the image of innocence before her.
She envied that innocence. She still does. She wishes for the days when she was free of the worries that plague her, when she was not yet a shell of who she used to be.
She remembers wishing that her daughter could retain that purity that she couldn't retain herself. However, as she felt familiar calloused hands grip her elbows, a little too firmly, she knew that it was futile to wish for her daughter's happiness and that this predicament was her own fault.
"Your daughter is beautiful," she remembers a low voice whispering in her ear, lips brushing against her skin as the hands gripped tighter. Her breath hitched, but she kept still as she tried to ignore the pain as the hold on her elbows grew even stronger.
"She's our daughter," she remembers replying, curt and cold, her own voice is unrecognizable to her own ears, void of any emotion or life.
"I'm going to get ready for bed," she remembers telling him, freeing herself of the grip she hated so much. She remembers not sparing him another glance as she disappeared into the bathroom.
She remembers looking into the mirror and noticing how pale her skin was, how dull her eyes appeared. She remembers wondering if she would ever find a way out of this.
She remembers waking up in the middle of the night, the bedroom lighting up due to the lightning outside, rain pattering against the window. She remembers the lack of arms holding her possessively. She remembers him standing on the other side of the room, his eyes narrowed dangerously as he stared at her. She remembers hearing noises downstairs.
She remembers the panic rising in her chest as she realized that someone was intruding. She remembers him pointing to the crib beside their bed, harshly whispering, "Go hide in the bathroom."
It was the last thing she would ever hear him say.
She remembers locking herself in the bathroom with her daughter, cradling the tiny body against her chest as she tried to keep as silent as possible. She remembers the yelling downstairs as she heard the thunder rumble outside.
She remembers the gunshot.
She remembers the footsteps, boisterous and fast, coming upstairs and she remembers the loudness of her own heartbeat as she sat helplessly on the bathroom floor, rocking herself and the baby back and forth.
She remembers violently trembling in fear and gasping for breath as the door handle shook. She remembers thinking her life was over.
She also remembers the footsteps disappearing again and she remembers stealthily leaving the bathroom. She remembers catching a glimpse of the intruder. She remembers catching their eyes, she remembers being startled by the dark and sinister glint in them.
She remembers the intruder charging towards the stairs before being halted by the fast approaching sound of sirens. She remembers the door slamming as they fled.
She remembers her daughter starting to cry in her arms as she ran downstairs and she remembers how her own wails joined the baby's at the sight she found in the kitchen.
She remembers the lifeless body, she remembers the bloodied hand folded over his stomach. She remembers falling to her knees and crying against his chest, void of a heartbeat.
She remembers the loud voices of the cops as they barged in. She remembers their hands prying her away from the corpse. She remembers being taken to the police station, telling everything she knows. She remembers the solemn look on the detective's face as he told her that she couldn't go home, that she couldn't go back to the life she used to live.
She remembers it all so clearly. She will never forget. It's forever edged into her memory, sitting dormant in the back of her mind on her best days and taunting her on her worst.
She will never forget the moment she realized she had lost the last shred of hope she'd been holding onto.