Credence choked back a sob, a shaky hand pressed against his lips, tears streaked down his face. Years he taught himself to be quiet while crying, to not make an audible sound that would give a reaction from others. He curled against his bed in the dark on the floor, shuddering as heat pulsed through his body from the lacerations his mother subjected him too. He heard a creak, his body went stiff, eyes widening before wiping the tears from his face.
He scrambled on his bed, beneath the covers where he turned his back to the open door. He squeezed his eyes shut, his body a tight coil of pain and fear. He couldn't stop the tears from streaking down his face, but he was able to stop the whimpers that would escape.
The door closed, a cool draft pressed against the back of his neck as each small creak left him scared. He wished for whoever was there to leave him alone, hoped that it wasn't his mother with her sharp gaze and indifferent expression, her hand on the belt before spitting words that made him sick of his mere existence.
He hated himself deep in his core where the anger swelled. Over and over again he would keep it away, far from his family, far from the outside world that did not care. No one ever cared, not for someone like him.
"Credence," a whisper, soft and familiar.
He snapped his eyes open, sucking in a trembled breath before twisting around in his bed. Wincing at the sound of the springs. A small dark form stood before him, her hair swept along her shoulders, wearing a night dress.
"Y-You can't be in here," he said, shaking his head, fingers curling into the blankets. Credence sucked in a breath at the pain in his hands, he let go of the blanket. "Go, Modesty, go back to your room."
She shook her head. "Let me stay for a bit." He didn't know what to do when she crawled on the bed beside him, pulling her legs to her chest and leaning against him.
Credence shifted so he was more comfortable, he pressed his back against the wall and leaned into her. Blinking, a tear rolled down his cheek, to the curve of his jawline. Had he always felt hollow in the dark? With no one that cared about him, no one to save him from the pain?
Modesty wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he couldn't stop crying. He was sure not to be loud, in case their mother decided to enter the room. He couldn't handle the thought of their mother hurting Modesty, not when she was a small safe place in this twisted home.
It took some time and when he knew Modesty had to go back to her room. She hugged him one last time, and his hands were shaking, afraid that it would be the last.
"Good night, Credence," she whispered in the dark before slipping her arms from his grasp and quietly left the room.
Once the door was closed and his eyes were sore from crying. Credence laid down in his bed, covering his body. The silence of the room, the creak of the house, the rush of his beating heart and the pain pulsing in his palms.
If this were a dream…
Credence closed his eyes and when he opened them, she was there. A light in his darkness. A woman who healed him, who comforted the pain and held him close to a warmth that disintegrated the fear that surrounded him.
"D-Don't leave me.." he said, over and over, a mantra of choking sobs, he held her close in his dreams, held her and never wanted to let go. "D-Don't… Please...p-please don't leave me.."
The woman soothes him with soft words, her arms wrapped around him, and the only light he has ever known was in the dreams. The dreams he would wake up too and be welcomed back into his pain, but he would wait for the dreams everyday. Wait for the woman who is his solace, his home of light.
Notes: Sorry for how short this is. I just wanted to write the comfort, not the abuse. I wasn't going to read FBAWTFT at first because I read some problematic stuff about it, but my brother bought it and I decided to watch it anyway. The only character that really stood out for me was Credence. I have a past with abuse and emotional abuse, so his scenes were a bit triggering.
And since the ending wasn't as great, I wanted to write a story of two people who cared for him. Mr. Graves does not count, he's a manipulating asshole who used Credence.
Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed.
Reviews are appreciative. No flames or bashing please.
