I'm trying to lay off Beguiled for a bit because I wrote loads of chapters that I haven't yet posted in Canada. I'm missing Ronnie and co though, so I think I will do a one shot. No idea what it's going to be about.
Rain thundered down hard against the solid glass windows of the Club, drenching the entire Square in a rapid sea of water and trapping Ronnie Mitchell where she sat inside. The weather outside was raging, not just rain, but wind that screamed in the air and flashes of electricity that ripped through the air, followed by roars of the gods. It was among some of the worse Ronnie or Walford had ever seen, but then again, it was nothing compared to the pain that tore through her heart in every waking moment.
Just as she liked it, Ronnie sat alone in the back room of the Club she owned with Jack, mulling over the events of the day, the events of the week, the events of her whole life. And as usual, her thoughts soon turned to her daughter, no matter how much she tried to block the face of her baby out of her mind. Thinking of her Amy was too painful. She didn't want to do it, but her mind often left her no choice. Her father had made sure of that.
Ever since she was a little girl, Ronnie had been afraid of storms. She had been scared since the night when she was four years old, and haunted by nightmares of clowns in her wardrobe and monsters under her bed. That night had been a bad one, she had had a chilling dream, even worse than her usual and woken up to find a soaking bed and her furious father looming over her. He had slapped and kicked Ronnie, dragging her from her warm, safe bed and throwing her out into the storm that raged outside.
Although Ronnie had pounded on the door, begging and pleading her father to just let her out of the rain, he hadn't relented. She would have even taken his beatings next to being out there alone where lightening crashed over her head, each bolt taunting her and growing closer and closer to where she stood in her pyjamas, soaking wet and shivering, the rain mingling with the tears that ran down her cheeks.
He had kept her out there all night and later beat her anyway, telling her that in future, she might think twice before being so dirty. He told her it was her fault, that she didn't deserve a warm bed and a roof if that was the way she treated it. He proved to her just how privileged she was, and since that night, although Ronnie had never wet the bed again, she had been terrified of thunderstorms.
Sighing, Ronnie massaged her head, trying to shift the growing headache forming behind her eyes and took another sip of vodka, trying to drown out both the storm and the thoughts that swirled around in her mind, the images that gathered, threatening to take over her entire being. She took another gulp of the drink, knocking it back as if it were water, tears sliding down her face against her will.
Ronnie never cried. Not in front of people at least. She didn't like to show anyone what was behind the mask, let them all think she was the cold hearted cow they had labelled her as, Ice Queen to the very core. That was just the way Ronnie liked it and the way it would stay. Crying showed people how much they had hurt you, it was an invitation for them to do it again and again. If there was one thing she had learned in her life, it was that people were cruel. They didn't give mercy simply because you pleaded it. Her dad had proved that. It was pain that they fed on, agony that kept them going in their vindictive and terrifying games.
Crying was useless. All it was to her was self pity, some pathetic, worthless woman wallowing in her own misery. She didn't deserve pity; not from anyone and certainly not from herself. It was her who had given her child up, her who had signed the papers and allowed the baby to be taken, screaming from her arms. It was her who let her dad do all the things he had done leading up to that moment, her who had been too weak to fight it, and now she was paying her dues, just like she should. The main reason Ronnie Mitchell didn't cry was because she knew she deserved everything she ever got. She was a worthless, dirty whore, just like her dad had told her.
Angrily, Ronnie threw the half empty vodka bottle against the wall, where it shattered, pieces of glass flying everywhere and landing in a broken sea on the floor, each piece representing a fragment of her own life; her own heart. Just like those, the glass could be put back together, the pieces could fit again, but they would never really be right. There would always be something missing, a shard that she had never managed to find. The cracks would still be there, and whatever she used to piece it back together again, the glass wouldn't hold forever. Sooner or later, it would break again and again, eventually beyond any type of repair.
Running her hands through her hair, Ronnie got shakily to her feet, the tears still wet on her face, but she made no effort to wipe them away. Her arms felt too heavy to use, hiding her pain was too hard. It wasn't as if there was anyone around to see it anyway and the next day she would be back to the Ice Queen, ready to show her mask again to the rest of the world.
Although it was often her saviour, the one thing that could keep her going and get her through the life she was forced to lead without anyone hurting her anymore than she let them, it was a curse too. Sometimes, it was just too hard to smile and keep up the pretence that everything was fine, and the hardest thing of all was Ronnie no longer had a choice. The mask was a part of her, the edges of her heart truly turning into ice so she would soon feel nothing, just like she had always pretended. Sometimes, she just wished someone would look at her when she told them she was fine and tell her to stop lying. Sometimes she wished they would see the real her, not the person she hid behind. But there were many times she would rather die than have anyone know a thing about the person she kept hidden inside.
Ronnie let out a long breath she hadn't realised she had been holding and ran her hand through her hair, giving herself an even more dishevelled appearance. She crossed the room slowly and pulled open the door, which was somehow even more heavy than usual. Her whole body felt weak. Ronnie entered the quiet club, in search for what though, she didn't know. She was just tired of looking at the same four walls, hiding inside from the storm.
A gasp shot from her throat when she realised she wasn't alone in the Club, and for a moment, her heart froze as she envisioned her dad sitting in the stool at the bar, waiting to throw her out in the storm once again, and she was relieved to see it was only Danielle, the girl she who had been hired at the Club. For the most part, Danielle was an annoyance to have around, there was something about her that wasn't quite right, something that told Ronnie she wasn't just another employee and it freaked her out. Danielle was the only person who she hadn't been able to push out, the only one who hadn't backed off and left her alone once she had had a glimpse of the Ice Queen inside her. For some reason unknown, Danielle kept springing back, determined to try one last time to break the walls down and it scared Ronnie more than she cared to admit.
"Danielle!" Ronnie gasped, struggling to get her breath back to a normal rate. "What are you doing here?" Once her fear had began to ebb away, Ronnie started to become annoyed. What was it with this girl? Why couldn't she just leave Ronnie alone? Danielle leapt up quickly from the stool, another thing Ronnie didn't understand about her. The girl acted almost like she was afraid of her, but she was still always there, like an annoying shadow Ronnie just couldn't shake.
"S-sorry," she stammered, backing off. "I just-just didn't want to go home in this- It's not far, but I have to walk and...well it was raining so I though I would wait for it to let up." She took another step back, as though she was afraid Ronnie might attack her. But for once Ronnie couldn't even be bothered to snap at the girl. She sighed. "It's alright Danielle, just don't lurk here like that, you scared me."
"S-sorry," she stuttered again, but her shoulders relaxed slightly as she accepted Ronnie wasn't mad at her. Slowly, she began to close the gap between them, being careful to still leave a distance between herself and her mother. She blinked and a frown fluttered over her soft features, concern flashing through her eyes and it was only then that Ronnie remembered about the tears that hadn't yet dried on her face and the red rims that had replaced the eye-liner that had ran down her cheeks. "Are you alright?" Asked Danielle, timidly.
Ronnie wiped the fallen tears quickly from her face with her hands, although she knew it was too late. She was momentarily annoyed with Danielle for being there, for noticing, for interfering, but she was more annoyed with herself for letting her. No one ever saw her cry, she made sure of that. Jack and Roxy were the only ones that ever had, and that wasn't through any choice of her own. "I'm fine," she said, shortly, despite the obvious truth. She didn't feel like going into any of it with Danielle. She was the same age as her Amy would have been around that time. If she had been allowed to live that long.
It was clear from Danielle's face that she didn't believe her, but although she was worried, she knew better than to press the matter. She didn't want to give her mother any more reason to hate her. An awkward silence fell, Danielle and Ronnie both too afraid to say what was going through their minds, oblivious to how closely linked both their thoughts were.
Finally, the storm was letting up. It was still raining, but less heavily and the gap grew longer between the flashes of light and rumbles of thunder. "I guess I had better be getting back," Danielle said, nervously, her eyes flitting to the weather outside and back to the floor by Ronnie's feet, waiting for her mother to agree that she should just leave her alone.
"Wait a moment Danielle, I'll take you back on my bike. I should be heading home too, you'll still get wet, but at least it will be quicker than walking." At Ronnie's offer, Danielle's heart began to pound. The thought of spending more time with her mum was both thrilling and terrifying. She had expected Ronnie to agree with her, to want her to be gone as soon as possible, but now she was offering her a chance to get closer, although she was clearly upset and as much as she knew of Ronnie, Danielle was fully aware she preferred to be alone when she was like that.
"I don't want to put you out..." Danielle began, backing off again, as if to leave, but to her surprise, Ronnie smiled gently at her. Although she had never really taken to her employee, she didn't decided that being with Danielle was better than being alone with her thoughts and was prepared to offer the peace, at least for that night. It was clear that neither of them wanted to be by themselves and although they would never admit it, they seeked comfort in each other. "It's OK, really, I need to head back and I pass the Slater's on my way. C'mon, grab your jacket."
Danielle's face broke into a grin which she hid with her hair as she bent down to pick her jacket up from where she had deposited it at her feet. She had expected Ronnie to shout at her when she discovered her, especially after making her jump, but for some reason, her mother was deciding to be nice to her and although it felt strange, she certainly wasn't going to complain.
The rain was calmer, but it still lashed down on them as they exited the club after Ronnie had made sure everything was in check and locked up, but Danielle was in no rush to get home to Stacey. She was happy to spend every moment she could getting to know her mother without being shouted or snapped at, as Ronnie had done so many times in the past.
Ronnie flung a helmet at her daughter and Danielle began to put it on her already soaking hair before realising there wasn't another. "Where's yours?" She asked, lowering her hands with the hat still in them.
"That is mine," said Ronnie, casually. "I don't carry a spare, but I'm not having your death on my conscience. I can live with my own." Ronnie frowned, realising the stupidity of what she had just said and Danielle blinked at her, a small smile passing over her features. "You know what I mean," said Ronnie, a hint of a grin on her own face. She ignored Danielle's protests against using the helmet, telling her that if she didn't use it she was going to throw it in the gutter and take them both home anyway, so reluctantly, Danielle placed it over her head.
Harsh wind whipped Ronnie's loose hair as she accelerated through the Square, Danielle's arms secure around her waist. In a way, it was a comfort to have the young girl clinging to her as if she trusted Ronnie to protect her. Just as her own little girl should be doing. If Ronnie focused hard enough, she could almost kid herself that the young woman was her daughter, holding onto her mother like she could fight the world.
In fact, Ronnie was so absorbed in her fantasy that she so rarely allowed herself to have that she didn't notice Jack walking along the small road, directly in their path. There was no time to warn him, or even shout. All Ronnie could do was swerve the bike to the side, praying it was enough to miss him.
The bike flew to the left, skidding on the sopping ground, the wheel twisting and smashing into the pavement. Ronnie felt the back of the bike shot away from the pavement before she was flung from it. There was no time to scream as she flew through the air, smashing and tumbling onto the road below her, her uncovered head crashing onto the concrete.
Ronnie layed there in a daze, clinging to the edges of her consciousness, her brain fighting to figure out what had just happened. She hadn't hit Jack. She was pretty sure of that. Jack. He was calling to her now, she was sure she could hear his voice. The road was cold and wet beneath her, but she didn't have the strength to get up. The thought didn't even cross her mind as her brain fell into a haze of shock and her body gave way to the pain.
"Ronnie!" Jack's voice was defiantly there that time. She wasn't imagining it. There was someone else too, although Ronnie couldn't work out who. Then his hands were on the side of her face, touching her hair, feeling her neck for a pulse. Ronnie shifted her eyes to look at him, reassuring him that she was alive. "Ron," Jack breathed, stroking his hand down her hair. Ronnie could feel his hands shaking.
"D-Danielle," She choked out, remembering the young woman who had been with her, the one who just moments ago she had been imagining to be her daughter, clinging to her for safety. "Shhh," hushed Jack, running his fingers along her jaw and cheekbone. "Danielle's fine, she's here, just a little battered, that's all." Ronnie shifted her head, just a little to catch a glimpse of her employee, just to be sure.
Danielle was knelt beside Jack, soaked from the rain. Squinting through the dark, Ronnie could see she had a graze on the side of her head, which thankfully didn't look too serious, the helmet having done its job. Ronnie felt a flutter of relief somewhere inside of her. The girl meant little to her, but the crash had been her fault. She hadn't been concentrating and she knew she wouldn't have been able to have lived with herself if she knew she had taken someone else's little girl away, just as her dad had done to her.
"I called them," Danielle sobbed to Jack, tears streaming down her face. She couldn't seem to stop shaking, and knew the operator at the other end of the phone had struggled to understand her as she pleaded for an ambulance. Jack nodded without turning away from Ronnie, his fingers still dancing across her features.
"Mum..." Danielle whimpered, reaching for Ronnie's hand. Both of them froze in the same moment. Through her fogged brain, the word twisted through Ronnie's insides, stopping her already slow beating heart. Their eyes locked and in that moment, Ronnie knew. She realised what made Danielle different from all the rest of her employees, why the girl always wanted to be around her, why she had clung to her on the bike as if she trusted her with the world. Like a child would trust her mother.
Through the thin sliver of moonlight that was spread across the ground, Ronnie saw the sliver locket that dangled from her daughter's neck, glittering. Her eyes fluttered shut, but she determinedly forced them open again, drinking in every part of her baby girl.
Her "Amy..." whispered Ronnie, the truth finally settling between them along with the presence of death that lingered within their reach.
Well that's the result of my urge to write a one shot. Please tell me what you thought!