Disclaimer:I am not Lemony Snicket, so I have no rights towards the ASOUE related characters in this FanFiction.

Blood ran down Isadora's face and dripped off her chin. The crimson substance stained her hands and those of John. He towered over her, evil eyes glistening at his accomplishment. He cracked his knuckles,

'You know not to anger me, dear, you know very well. I really do hate hurting you, but your stupidity induces it upon yourself', he spat at Isadora. She whimpered,

'I didn't do anything, though'. John let out an enraged cry and kicked his girlfriends ankle, bruising it for the umpteenth time that night,

'Shut up! You did do something, you pissed me off!'. Isadora cowered away from her psycho lover. Her body hurt like hell, and the blood coming out of her forehead was like a fountain. What did I get myself into? John was a crazy, angry, hurtful, but he loved her. His anger often got the better of him in situations, and it overcame his affections. The smallest thing could set him off. But it wasn't his fault. He was so sweet at times, like ten minutes ago.

'Get up, bitch. We're going out', John yanked her up, and as a result her blood spattered his clothes, 'Look what you did!? God, what is wrong with you woman?'. Isadora started crying and pulled away from him,

'Don't touch me!'. Her vision was blinded by the flowing blood of her head, so she quickly wiped it away. John looked subtle now, and reached up to touch her cheek,

'Was I really that bad, Izzie? Oh god, did I do that?', he pointed to the gash on her forehead, caused from impact with a wall. Afraid she might anger him, she whimpered in response. John stepped towards her, then gently pressed his shirt sleeve to the wound,

'I'm really sorry, honey. I didn't mean to, I wish I could control it... I'm going to take you to the hospital, alright?'.

'I don't think... I need to go, John', Isadora said, regretting it. His eyes burned,

'I'm taking you to the hospital right now so deal with it! Your head is bleeding, Isadora! You need treatment!', he yelled, reaching for her. It happened again. Isadora ran across the room and shut herself away in the closet. John told her to do so, if he got really bad. Her sobs could be heard,

'Can't you be sane for thirty seconds?!', she asked through the door. He crept towards the closet,

'I wish I could, sweetie. For you, I wish. I promise not to... Freak out again, I won't hurt you again. I'll try, at least'. This was a nightly routine for them. Isadora had countless injuries all over her body from John's spasms. But nobody knew. No one knew what she put up with for him. Because if someone found out, they'd sure make her break up with her love. They wouldn't understand, Isadora willingly put up with him. But this time she couldn't go home, the injury was too noticeable. Duncan would be furious that she wasn't coming home, but oh well.

'Can you please come out, babe? I feel terrible, I just want to help', John pleaded. Isadora, in the darkness, sighed. He seemed completely calm now, probably wouldn't spas again if she shut her mouth. Opening the door, she embraced him,

'I love you, even if you do hurt me'. John kissed her hair,

'I love you, too. I wish it was possible for me to change, for the sake of us'. He rolled up the sleeves of her sweater, to reveal various deep scrapes and bruises. Running his finger along the line of a faded scar, he whispered,

'C'mon, we got to clean you up'. Escorting her to the bathroom, he took a cloth and held it to his lovers head. It instantly drenched in blood. Isadora jumped when she saw all that blood,

'Oh, there's th...that much'. She was shaking,

'It's fine, don't pay attention to it', John assured. Isadora shut her eyes as many disinfectants and creams stung her open cut. The feeling was all to familiar, this had to be done every day. But the feeling of rubbing alcohol never fail to chill her.

'Isadora, I'm afraid it needs to be stitched up. I'll go get the needle and thread, you just sit tight'. John left to go retrieve his implements. She panicked, he could do a lot with a needle and thread that didn't involve stitching up a cut. Scared for her life, Isadora quickly scampered to the back door,

'Isadora what the hell happened to you?'. Quigley gently pulled his sister inside, his eyes focused on her head injury. She moaned, it stung,

'Ugh, one of those wooden planks you have fell on me', Isadora lied. She'd rehearsed this in the car. Her brother wasn't stupid, but he'd believe almost anything she told him.

'Aw, sorry. I meant to bring them outback but I'm pretty busy lately', he yawned, 'Annabelle's teething and Vi's out of town for the week. God'. There was a silence,

'Why aren't you at Duncan's?', Quigley asked.

'Oh, I was at John's and we were up kinda late. I'm tired and my head hurts, I might pass out if I drove that far tonight, so I figured I'd stop by', she said. He smiled,

'Glad you did. Here, let's go sit. Unless you want to go to bed'. He'd read her mind,

'Bed for me, Quigley. Thanks'. She leaned forward to hug him, just really needing a hug from someone sane.

My apologies if that seemed rushed.