Summary: Lizzie makes a choice to run off with Derek and pays heavy consequences

Rating: T (couple uses of language)

Disclaimer: Don't own LWD

Choices

"Get me a sandwich, mom."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, mom."

Lizzie sighed and walked into the kitchen. It wasn't fucking worth fighting, not anymore. She pulled her last cigarette out of her pocket and lit up, taking a long, relaxing drag. The stack of unpaid bills on the table were waiting for her, as was the pile of dirty dishes in the sink and the curtain over the window in the kitchen needed patching before it fell apart but she sat at the table with her cigarette and glanced at her children. Mark was playing video games and bullying his younger brother Jimmy and Jenny was bouncing on the couch.

Mark was ten, and more than a handful. He was inattentive at school, bullied his younger siblings, disrespected her and his father and hung around with some no-good types, which worried Lizzie to death.

Jimmy was a nine-year-old, ninety pound weakling. He was constantly unhealthy, unable to stand up for himself and took his brother's bullying with no attempt to stand up to him. It made Lizzie sick at heart.

Jenny reminded her of a life she had tried so hard to get away from. Her daughter was practically perfect in every way, a studious scholar at the age of 8, an ice-skating dancer in the making and tried to be helpful and friendly to everyone.

She hated them. It was so wrong, it was disgusting, she was a terrible person who deserved to burn for her wickedness but she hated her own children. They were all constant reminders of the painful choice she had made ten years ago that she was now stuck with, stuck in a hellish, wasteful existence.

It was kind of ironic, in a way. Ten years ago she was also sick of her life, sick of being in love with someone who didn't know how she felt, sick of always being compared to perfection and falling short, so she took action.

Derek was sick too, of trying so hard in university and failing, at never having time for what he wanted to do with his life, so he was going to take off and never look back. His plan had been perfect, take off to New York City and make it big as a musician. And Lizzie had asked to tag along, sick of her own life at the tender age of 15. Derek'd had his reservations but one drunken night of fumbling seduction later and he was wrapped around her little finger and they took off together for new lives.

The money had run out long before they made it to New York though, and they ended up in Halifax.

"Just till we get some more money," Derek had promised. Lizzie found a job at a video store and Derek played clubs for money and they were going along great until Lizzie found out she was pregnant. Their dreams were crushed.

They settled into a sort of hopeful existence, hoping a kid wouldn't mean the end of everything, that once it was born, Derek could still make it big. But the bills piled up, a baby demanded a lot of attention and Lizzie had to quit her job at the video store, which meant Derek had to get a serious job and quit messing around as a musician.

She knew he started dealing after Jimmy was born the next year. She always turned the other way when his 'friends' came over and ignored what was staring her right in the face. The money he brought in was good, it helped a lot, and as long as she didn't ask, he didn't tell and neither of them needed to know. She only asked once that he keep the kids protected and he showed her the gun in their bedside drawer and she kept her mouth shut after that, too afraid of seeing it again for -any- reason.

"Mom!" Mark shouted from the living room. "Where's my fucking sandwich?" Lizzie grimaced at his word choice. He had picked it up from Frankie Techlovski, a 'friend' of Derek's. She was afraid of Frankie but Derek always protected her. She was sick of him, sick of her life anymore, but he protected her from harm at least. She didn't love him, she'd never loved him, but he protected her and she took care of him and his three kids.

A knock sounded on the screen door just then and she prayed fervently it wasn't another of Derek's 'friends'. It was raining out and they mostly stayed away when it was raining so she ignored it and let Jenny run to answer it.

"Hi," she heard Jenny's voice from the kitchen and took another long drag off her cigarette before standing up to see who it was.

"Hi, is your mom home?" it was a man and she moved a little quicker, feeling her lungs protest faintly. They didn't like her moving around too much anymore, not with how often she smoked.

"Who is it?" Mark called from in front of the TV, where he spent 90% of his days.

"I'm here to see Lizzie?" Lizzie came around the corner just then and inhaled sharply. A name tumbled from her lips, just one word out of a thousand she wanted to say.

"Edwin."

"Hi Lizzie," Edwin was taller, grown-up. He would be at twenty-seven years old. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him. Her memory of that time, the 'before' was an indistinct blur. He was dressed in a suit, grey and a blue dress shirt with a black tie and his hair was wet from the rain. She briefly acknowledged that he had gotten glasses, square black frames that somehow suited him and made him look smart and distingushed.

"Mom, who's that?" Mark called. She ignored him and stood, almost frozen. She was sure she looked a mess in her mom-jeans, hideous blue flowered top and straggly hair she'd not bothered with since 2009. She was barefoot and she knew she looked older from years of worry and smoking her life away. He looked good, she looked old.

"Can I come in?" Jenny was still holding the door open and Lizzie waved him inside and her youngest shut the door and ran back to the couch and flopped on it.

"How'd...what are you doing here?" Lizzie asked. How'd you find us? the question lingered in her mind.

"I finally found you guys. You know, it's harder than you think it'd be to find you guys. I didn't know you and Derek were married, either."

"Yeah," Lizzie bowed her head, almost ashamed for some reason. It had been a quickie ceremony in a pastor's house with the pastor, his wife and their grown son as witnesses. Not the ideal dream wedding by any stretch. Lizzie had been eight months pregnant at the time and the only thing that fit was a white shapeless dress. She hadn't let them take any pictures of her so there wasn't anything of the two of them from back then.

"I wanted to let you know...we had to put dad...George...in a nursing home..." Edwin's face looked solemn and Lizzie tried to arrange her features in a sad expression as well. She couldn't feel much at all, just a sense of numbness. "He's been developing dementia...early onset...and it's gotten pretty bad. I just wanted to find you guys to let you know."

"Oh..." Lizzie couldn't think of anything else to say so she stood up. "Do you want something to drink? Soda? Water? Coffee?"

"Coffee would be fine," Edwin said. He followed her into the tiny kitchen and sat at their wobby table while Lizzie busied around making up a pot. The sink was still full of dishes and the floor needed mopping and she was ashamed of having a visitor over without cleaning first. Her whole life seemed in sharp relief now, like someone had come in and inked over everything, exposing every imperfection and nitty-gritty mistake.

"So...you have kids..." Edwin said softly. Lizzie tried to keep her hands steady, tried to ignore the tone of his voice which sounded like -something- (regret? jealousy? she couldn't tell) and nodded.

"Mark's the oldest," she said, as if she was proud of the fact that she was 26 with a ten year old. "Jimmy's next and Jenny's the youngest."

"I see." He sounded interested but she kept her mouth shut, afraid to say anymore, that she'd admit to hating her life and hating her husband and hating her own children. He didn't need to know that. So instead she told him about her job at Roanoke Restaurant, Derek's job as a janitor at Milbrook High School and a brief overview of her last few years. She was in night school to become a hairdresser, she was happy (a blatant lie) and she loved being a mother (another lie).

Edwin stayed long enough for a cup of coffee and told her about what was going on with the rest of the family. Casey had married Truman after college and had divorced him six months later, Nora was coping badly with George's condition and Marti was a lesbian with an exhibitionist streak and Edwin suspected she was an internet porn-star but was afraid to find out. Derek came home right as Edwin was leaving and spent a little time talking to his brother but not very long. Before he left though, Edwin slipped Lizzie his card. On the back it said "Call me" and gave the number of the hotel he was staying at.

Several hours later, as the kids were in bed and Derek was getting drunk on their worn-out sofa, with trembling fingers and a pounding heart, Lizzie dialed the number.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," she almost cried out in relief when she heard Edwin's voice. He asked her to meet him at his hotel. She doubted Derek would notice, he was in a stupor anyway, and after a quick shower, she pulled on a simple black dress and her only nice black shoes, sensible mom-type things that doubled for work sometimes. She looked like an old woman, or a mom, she reflected. Nervously, she took the last late bus out to the Spense Hotel downtown and got off.

Edwin drove her back, promising that he wouldn't ask her to meet him again. She didn't like that though, she -wanted- to see him again. She begged him to stay in town a few more days and the next few were the best of Lizzie's life.

She forgot about her dead-end existence and slipped into a make-believe world of glamorous hotels, expensive dinners and a pretend happily-ever-after. She even bought a fancy dress to wear and got her hair cut, finally, and some new high heeled shoes. It was a dream.

Of course, all dreams have to come to an end, and this one came crashing down into cold reality when Edwin said he absolutely couldn't stay anymore and had to go back to work. Lizzie cried and said she'd run off with him but Edwin had looked at her with tired eyes and a tepid smile and told her to look after her kids and Derek for him.

The next day, as she was making lunches in her ugly, faded kitchen, she started crying again and threw a bowl against the wall. It broke with a satisfying crunch and she cried harder for being such a terrible person for almost abandoning her own children like that.

That night, Derek came in half-drunk and told her he knew her secret. He had somehow found out about her trips to the Spense Hotel and had punished her severely.

Afterward, while he was zipping his pants back up and Lizzie was curled up on their mattress, crying and bleeding, Derek had looked at her with the same tired, broken eyes of his brother and his words echoed in her head over and over.

"You're mine. You belong to me. Don't you forget it."

A/N: This is for Lady Azura aka Miranda's birthday! Happy birthday girl! Another year older, another year hotter! She requested a dark Dizzie so I don't know who's more twisted, her for wanting this or me for coming up with it! Anyway, enjoy!