Means of an End
Chapter 1
Things Fall Apart
Bomb Girls
A/N: This is a special fanfiction dedicated to a good friend of mine. I hope you like this if not then, I have failed however you still have this to read to get your feels.
Disclaimer: I do not own Bomb Girls but I'm sure my friend wish she did.
The wind howled and roared, as the rain poured it served as a platter for Betty's emotions to spill out all over. As she lays in her bed clutching a pillow, the only sound that can be heard from her is faint cries. Gently rolling from her eyes to her cheeks, her pain filled tears wets her pillow.
Her head is spinning, and is helpless to the hurt of her memory playing over the moment the reddish brown haired beauty walked away. Like a broken record that gets stuck on an continuous loop, her mind would rewind the very moment over and over. The feeling of her heart being dropped off a building, the salty taste that salivated in her mouth, the knotted punch to her abdomen, and the sting of water filling her eyes.
The moment that Betty McRae had broken the one rule she has lived by, the rule that has become an staple of her person. Her rule to never apologize, for the choices she has made, a rule that she declared the moment she was unwelcome from her home. She vowed to not never feel the way she felt that night.
There is a soft knock on the door, a warm sweet voice calls out to Betty.
"Betty?...Betty? it's Vera, please open the door." Vera is leaning against the door, trying to hear if Betty is awake.
Betty doesn't respond, she lays on her side facing her window, with her back to the door. Snuggling her pillow for support, her eyes red, and breathe is shaky.
"Betty I'm coming in anyway." Vera twists the door knob slowly, and walks into the room cautiously.
"I didn't say you can come in." Betty's voice stops Vera from walking any further, she freezes as she was making her way over to her.
The tone of her voice is so calm, and monotone, it sends this cold vibe up Vera's spine.
"You didn't answer I wanted to make sure you were alright." Vera's voice is as meek as a mouse, full of concern, and worry.
Betty doesn't respond she lays there, still looking out the window, it is this stillness that makes the worry in Vera's speech grow. Not knowing exactly what to do with herself she just stands awkwardly, holding her arm, unsure of what to say.
Some moments go by Betty still feels Vera's presence. Her body tenses a bit, she moves reluctantly to sit up, putting her legs off the side of the bed her body is still tense. Taking a sigh of breathe she gets up and goes over to her dresser and pulls out some whiskey. She goes and sits back on her bed, and extends her arm with the whiskey in hand.
" Well since you won't leave, you wanna drink?" Betty's voice vapid of any emotion and of any tone.
Vera first doesn't respond. Another moment passes and Betty just cracks open the bottle and takes swig from it. She screws the cap back on and sets it on the night stand.
"If you're gonna just burn a hole through me by staring do it tomorrow, everyone else will." With her back still turned away from Vera, Betty leans unto her forearms. Her eyes are still fixed on the rain outside.
Vera starts to walk forward again and goes to sit on the bed, right beside Betty. She reaches her arm across her to grab the bottle of whiskey, she screws it and takes a sip grimacing from a moment she puts the cap back on and sets the whiskey back on the night stand.
"No one is going to stare at you Betty." Vera is looking directly at her, but Betty's attention is still focused on the outside.
"I wish I could tell myself that lie, I really do. Come tomorrow morning my name will spread like wild fire across everyone's eyes. I can only imagine what they gonna say." Betty sits up to take another drink.
As Betty reaches for her bottle, Vera takes hold of Betty's hand. For the first time of that night Betty looks at Vera. Vera smiles at her trying to reassure her.
"I don't understand Vera. How can you still just sit there, right now holding my hand. How doesn't it bother you?"
With her voice soft spoken, and slightly shaky, she stares into Vera's eyes trying to search for the answer. She feels the rubbing of Vera's thumb on her hand. The feeling of her thumb feeling caressed stopped. Vera removes her hand from Betty's.
"The same way you didn't.." Vera's voice trails off as she takes her hands to remove her wig, and places it in her lap.
"The same way you didn't let this bother you, even when others did. You were there for me Betty, even when I didn't want you to be, and I will do the same for you." Vera never once broke eye contact with Betty. She takes hold of her hand once more, and places the other on top.
"Thank you Vera." Betty says softly.
"Thanks nothing, I'm only being a good friend, there is no thanks for that." Vera lets go of Betty's hand, and reaches toward her to give her an hug.
"I'll see you in the morning Betty." Vera whispers into her ear, she reluctantly lets go and places her wig back on her head, and stands to walk out the room. Vera takes one last look at Betty as she is about to shut her door. Betty picks up the bottle to take a sip and Vera as if on cue quietly shuts the door.
Hearing the door shut behind her, Betty gets up and places the bottle back in her dresser. Before she closes it, she reaches to the side to pull out a locket.
Betty never much cared for jewelry, but this locket was different it had value, and meaning. She places the locket to her and walks back over to the bed to lay down on her back. She opens the locket to stare at her mother. She places the locket upon her night stand, she closes her eyes to try and picture her mother.
It's been so long since she has been in her presence. She doesn't get much time to stop and remember her, what felt like, what she sound like, how she smelled. A smile creeps across Betty's face, something about the way she smelled always brought a smile to her face.
Lavender is what her mom smelled like, the sweet scent of lavender from her mother's garden. It was a smell that she has loved and has grown to miss, when she smells it. With her eyes closed intensely she tries to remember an old memory.
The day when she was sent home from school, from getting into a fight with school yard boys. She was 13 years old. She had a busted lip, and black eye. See would never forget the look terror, and rage that was etched across her mother's face.
(Flashback memory)
"Who did this to you, I want names!" Her mother said in a fit.
"Mom, it's alright really, I'm fine." Betty says in a nonchalant manner.
"You are not fine, look at your face! A bleeding lip and a black eye." She shouts, with her eyes swelling with tears.
Her mother goes and gets her purse and a health kit leaving out the living room. Betty looks over her knuckles as they are bloody from fighting. She can't help but smile to herself, looking over her wounds as a sign of victory.
Her mother returns with her purse and health kit and seating right next Betty, placing the items right beside her. Opening the health kit she pulls out some rubbing alcohol and cotton balls. As she swabs the cotton balls, she calmly asks daughter a question.
"So how badly did you beat them up, I know that they have to be almost half dead if you look like this." Her mother says swiftly with an smirk.
Betty cracks a smile, and her mother just smiles back at her. Her mother dabs the moist cotton ball on Betty's lips she winces slightly, but for the most part brushes off the sting.
She keeps dabbing until the blood is gone, she places the used cotton ball unto the table. And gets out a new cotton ball soaks it in rubbing alcohol and dabs it across Betty's knuckles.
"I'm sorry if this hurts, knuckles can be sensitive." She says in a matter of fact sort of way.
"It doesn't hurt, I can't really feel anything, in fact they're numb." Betty's tone is slightly joyful, as she state this fact.
Her mother just laughs, as she is cleaning the bruises of Betty's hands. Betty never seen someone laugh as much as her mother did. So filled with life, such joy despite whatever hardships she has faced, you could always be sure to see an smile and a laugh coming from her mother.
"What's so funny?" Betty asks out of curiosity.
"Oh you sound just like my dad right just then." Her mother says proudly.
Her mother takes the bandages out from the health kit and wraps them around Betty's bruised knuckles, once both of her hands can been bandages she places the rest of the bandages, rubbing alcohol, and cotton balls into the health kit closing it.
"Alright now some make-up from that eye of yours."
"Oh no mom! Please don't put that stuff on me it's gross." Betty whines with annoyance.
"Well I can't have your eye looking like a plum, I need to cover it."
"I earned this black eye, it's a victory wound, and I wanna wear it with pride." Betty says pleadingly.
"I'm not gonna have my daughter, walking around with an black eye, it's bad enough your hands look like it's been in surgery I can at least keep your face from looking like a punching bag."
"I'm not embarrassed mom. I don't need to hide, kicked Billy Smiths and Mikey Lawson's asses-" Betty's rant is completely cut off by her mother.
"Betty McRae watch your mouth young lady!" she quickly interjects.
"I'm sorry, but mom I won, I finally put those idiots in their places, and I want to show off my prize. Please mom, can we please just skip the make-up, I'm just gonna wipe it off anyway." Betty says crossing her arms with a satisfied smirk across her face.
"Alright fine, have it your way. I won't put any make-up on it, if you wanna walk around with a plum for an eye be my guest." Her mother's tone was relaxed, and she peacefully gave up.
She smiles and kisses the forward of her beautiful blonde daughter. For an whole week Denise Adams McRae, the beautiful blonde shell let her daughter Betty McRae walk around with an black eye as joyful as she could be.
(End flashback memory)
Betty smiles, to herself. Thinking of the pride she felt, then, how happy she was to have that beautiful black eye. Betty never told her mom why she got into the fight in the first place, but she guessed she didn't have to, that mother probably already new the reason.
Even from way back then Betty was a fighter, it's apart of who she was then, and apart of who is now. Betty closed her eyes to head to off to sleep, and though she is worried she had no fear of what awaits tomorrow at the factory. She will get up and gone on about her day, as if it were any other. Maybe it's the whiskey but it was the only comfort to serve to Betty's pain at the moment, perhaps a distraction, and if so then she hoped that it's a distraction that last, because the pain is just too unbearable to handle.
A/N: Well this is chapter I hope you're happy with this, to my special friend.
