Very dark chapter, you've been warned. Includes references to sexual assault of a minor and vaginal trauma.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Clique. I only own the plot.

"If you could have it done by tomorrow morning. . ."

"Excuse me?"

"I know, Derrick, and I'm sorry. You originally had a week to finish it, but he changed plans and you know we need this guy-"

"Yeah, yeah I fuckin' know," Derrick Harrington grumbled into the phone as he raked his eyes over the million post-its that were stuck all over his desk.

"You're the best, D." Yeah, sure.

Fuck. One night. One night to finish one of the biggest presentations he'd ever give. One night. To convince a man that this corporation could handle the job they so desperately wanted. He'd have to work straight through the night. And he had to take care of Sydney.

As if on cue, the door to his office opened and his little girl walked in. Typically, she dashed in with open arms and a new story to tell about her day, but today she didn't. If he noticed, it was currently residing in the back of his mind, right behind the presentation he needed to do.

"Hi, Sweetie," he murmured distractedly as he furiously typed away at his computer. It was already almost five. He needed to get home, feed her, give her a bath, read her some stories and then work his ass off. Good thing he owned about a ton of that shitty-tasting drink, 5 Hour Energy.

Pulling an all-nighter was not something Derrick had done since college, but he was definitely prepared to do it again.

Not once did he notice Sydney's silence.

Not on the ride home, as he was so distracted with thoughts of his work awaiting him. Her Disney sing-along music was playing, and he failed to notice that there wasn't a voice to go along with it.

Dinner was a rush, but that wasn't unusual. As a single parent, sometimes he felt as if everything was a rush. Sometimes he went days before actually having his mind focused on one thing, not scattered in a thousand different directions at once.

"C'mon, sweetie, bathtime." Sydney slowly got out of her chair where she'd been picking at her food. He smiled sympathetically at her. She seemed to be feeling under the weather tonight and hadn't eaten her dinner. He hoped she'd be well enough to go to school tomorrow, at least until lunchtime when he wouldn't be busy and could pick her up. Crossing his fingers for silent luck, Derrick followed his distracted daughter into the bathroom.

He was busying himself making sure the water was the right temperature and there was enough bubbles when he offhandedly asked the question. "You feeling okay, baby?"

She didn't answer behind him. When he turned around, she was looking at the floor, eyes wide, shaking her head.

When she started to pull down her pants, he noticed something.

"Sydney, did you have an accident today?"

Every parent was required to keep an "emergency" pair of pants at the school in case of issues like spills, accidents during naptime, or anything like that. He hadn't noticed originally, but she was wearing the black, soft yoga-type pants that he remembered sending her to school with on the second day to keep in her cubby "just in case".

At his question she looked at him and shrugged. Her eyes were even wider, and looking moist. She looked like she truly didn't know what to say.

Derrick chalked it up to embarrassment and turned around while she continued taking off her clothes, piling them in the corner for the hamper. He was cupping his hands under her armpits to lift her into the tub when he noticed.

It wasn't as bad now, but he could tell she'd shed blood. Her inner thighs were slightly pink, sticky. She had her legs clamped together in a vice-like strength, but that didn't hide it.

"Sydney, what happened? Here, sweetie, let me look at it."

He wasn't sure what he expected. Possibly a scratch on her inner upper thigh, something, anything to explain this. The churning feeling in the pit of his stomach made him dizzy.

Sydney shook her head and pulled away.

"Sydney, why were you bleeding? Baby. . ." She swallowed and let her leg muscles go slack.

Derrick sat her down on the edge of the tub and slowly eased her thighs apart.

The skin down near her knees were stained a pink-red, but the area near her vagina was still blood red. It looked brutal and sickening. His baby's innocence, torn and bloody. Instantly Derrick pushed her legs back together, feeling like something was very, very wrong. He tried not to let his horror show on his face when he looked back up at Sydney. He wanted to throw up. His gut was twisting, only adding to the heat that was spreading through his fingertips, his stomach. He tried to breathe. Don't throw up, don't throw up.

"Honey, who did this to you? Sydney, look at me." His teeth clenched together and he was sure he looked like a mess at this moment. A fat bead of sweat slid down his face. Fuck, when did he start sweating? He was so cold. Now hot. Now cold again. Fuck, he needed some water or something.

She didn't say a word. His throat locked, eyes unblinking as he helped her get dressed again and helped her into the car. He reached into the back seat and placed a hand on her knee. Whenever he usually did this, he'd give a tickling squeeze and she'd giggle loudly, but tonight she yanked her leg away, not a single sound escaping her throat. Derrick managed to keep his nausea at bay - for the time being.

When they burst through the doors of the emergency room, she was being held tightly on his hip. A few people looked up when he arrived, but for the most part they didn't pay attention. Sydney's injuries weren't visible at the moment.

He got to the front desk and realized his fingers were trembling.

"I don't. . . someone raped my daughter," he whispered, noting the change in the face of the woman working the front desk.

"Excuse me, sir?"

"My daughter is bleeding, or was bleeding, and it doesn't look good and she isn't speaking and I don't know what-"

The woman cut him off, instead pulling a nearby doctor to the front. Her words were low in the doctor's ear.

"We have vaginal trauma on this little girl, we need a rape kit and quiet room for her."

And with those quiet, horrible words, people sprang into action.

It went against all of Derrick's instincts to let someone take Sydney from him, but he did it anyway. A part of him wanted her away from him so he could fall apart without her witnessing it.

Another part of him felt wrong the second she wasn't in his arms. A part of him wanted to hold her tightly and never, ever let go because she was his little girl and someone, some fucking monster had hurt her in the worst way possible. He wanted to destroy something, or hurt someone, anything to make him feel in control again.

"Can I see her? Where are they taking her?"

"Mr. Harrington, just wait a few minutes. I'll be sending you in to see your daughter in just a few moments. The doctors are performing a rape kit right now. Don't worry, she's in good hands."

If he could have pushed his way through every damn wall in this hospital to get to her, he would. Deep down he knew that the doctors were only doing their jobs, but nothing reasonable was at the forefront of his mind at the moment. His chest ached and his mouth was dry. He had never felt more powerless than at that moment.

Five minutes later he was led into a stark white hospital room. Sydney was lying on the bed with an IV pumping in fluids - mild painkillers, he'd been told. She looked a little out of it and was staring at the white tiles of the ceiling.

"Sydney?" At hearing her name from her Daddy's mouth, Sydney's eyes moved slowly until she was looking at him, but she didn't turn her head an inch. A thick white blanket was pulled over her, and he could see a hospital gown that was too big for her, falling down her small shoulders.

He hadn't been in there for two minutes when three police officers walked in.

"Mr. Harrington, this is detective Mike and I'm Riley. We'd like to ask you and your daughter some questions."

Derrick blinked slowly and nodded, everything feeling surreal. It wasn't until the officer raised his voice that he was paying attention again.

"Mr. Harrington, are you okay? Please follow Mike out while I sit down with your daughter."

At that moment Derrick raged. "You couldn't possibly expect me to walk away from her when she's like this, could you? She's my fucking daughter and she's hurting. I'm not going anywhere."

"Mr. Harrington, in order to rule you out as a suspect we must talk to the two of you. Alone."

The pain in Derrick's chest was a fire now, flames licking at his insides. He nodded in defeat and left with the officer, staring back at his daughter sadly until the door closed.

After an hour of questioning, which included severe repetition and hard stares from the officer talking to him, Derrick was called back into the hospital room. A nurse and the detective were standing there as a blank-eyed Sydney stared up.

"Mr. Harrington, we've called in a consultant of ours to help with questioning your daughter. She's so far been silent to our questioning."

Derrick nodded and ran his hands through his hair. "Okay. When is this specialist consultant chick coming?" He was frustrated and tired. It was getting late and his daughter was, well, almost comatose in her responses to him.

"We called her a few minutes ago, she lives close and always arrives quickly."

He didn't even think to ask her name.

"She's wonderful, a real pro and very famous for her skills with children and trauma cases. Maybe you've heard of her?"

Derrick looked up and narrowed his eyes. It couldn't be, could it?

His question was answered when a flustered brunette stepped in.

"Is this the room for Sydney Harrington?" she asked quickly, breathing heavy. Then her eyes met his.

"Oh, Derrick. Oh my god, it's you. I heard the name but I didn't - oh, God. I'm so sorry." Her tone of voice was heartbreaking and full of real sympathy, and he knew then that it was bad. Really bad. Her eyes were giant, watery amber, shaking fingers as she looked over the little girl in the hospital bed. Not the first, and unfortunately not the last. She swallowed. It was painful.

And then he burst into tears, and all Massie Block could do was stare at him.

Reviews are GREATLY appreciated. I've taken a risky chance in a fandom that doesn't see this sort of thing often - tell me how I'm doing.