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Special thanks to eleron36 to the wonderful idea, and Neeecole66 for keeping me up late with stories of 70's clothes and fuck-me-heels...And to everyone else who bothered leaving reviews. :)
Pixie
Once I was satisfied that Jace was asleep, I stroked my fingers through his hair, resting his forhead on my collarbone. Over the last two nights I'd spent here, I'd learned he didn't get bad dreams when I did this.
Besides, I had an excuse so that I wouldn't have to go to sleep.
I doubted even he couldn't keep away my nightmares.
As I closed my eyes, resting my cheek on Jace's soft hair, I thought about the pretty blonde woman that had walked into his shop, earlier.
She looked oddly familiar; Like somebody I'd used to be close with, but the memory slid away like water as soon as I thought that. Strange.
I pressed a kiss to Jace's forehead when he made a whimpering noise in his sleep, and he instantly quieted, nuzzling his face further into my skin. I remembered when my mother used to do this to me, before she stopped caring, and began thinking I was a horrible, lying, monster.
I bit my lip, and sleep wrapped itself in a blanket around me, and my head dropped ontop of Jace's.
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Seven Years Ago
This has been going on for a year now.
Jon doesn't care, I showed him the marks Daddy gave me, and he just gave me a disgusted look, and told me to get out of his room.
Mommy doesn't believe me. I showed her Daddy's bruises, and she tried to shove my head into the pot of boiling water she was heating up for the pasta, but I escaped from her hold, and ran out of the kitchen.
Daddy came again, that night.
He hit me for 'telling' Mommy, and squeezed my throat when I began crying.
Dirtied me.
Hurt me.
Violated me.
Spoiled me.
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Daddy's niece, Kaitlyn, was coming over for a visit, and he warned me and Jon to be on our best behavior; And told me to make conversation. He didn't believe I couldn't talk. Or he just ignored it, since it was his fault, afterall.
Jon and I were sitting on the couch, side-by-side, waiting for Daddy to be come back home from the airport with Kaitlyn.
Mommy was moodier than usual, and snapped at Jon when he asked her about Kaitlyn. I was silent, my legs pulled tightly to my chest and I thought about what life would be like if I didn't live here. I could live with the Little Mermaid. I could jump into the ocean, and let her fish-friends pull me down into her underwater kingdom. Or I could walk through the woods, and look for my very own beast to take me in his enchanted castle. I always prefered Beauty and the Beast to The Little Mermaid, anyways.
I doubted any life was that great.
The door swung open, and Mommy instantly stiffened, her face tense and angry.
Daddy walked in, his strong arms wrapped around a girl who looked about twelve, with bright blue eyes and long, golden hair. She was extremely pretty, and I smiled shyly at her.
Kaitlyn took one look at me, and scowled.
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Daddy ignored me, most of the night, showering Kaitlyn with hugs and questions.
Mommy regarded her with dislike, and would snap out 'thank you's' whenever Kaitlyn complimented her cooking.
Jon stared at her with wide, awe-filled eyes.
They all ignored me.
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That night, Daddy didn't come up into my room.
I crawled out from underneath my bed, and snuggled into the covers.
I was soon fast asleep, and didn't even hear her screams.
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I woke up earlier than usual, and smiling, for once. I'd gotten a good night's rest without Daddy in the mix...
I found Kaitlyn in the living room, reading a book, her appearance messy, half-mooned circles under her eyes. She didn't see me come in, so I took that opportunity to look her over without her glaring in my direction.
She was tallish, and curvy. Exact opposite of me. Yet there was something about her that was similar to me...
It jumped out to me like a 'STOP' sign, flashing so suddenly I blinked.
Her low cut tank was revealing; And revealed enough that I could see fresh bruises, dotting along her collarbone, and under her arms. Bruises similar to mine.
I tapped her nervously on the shoulder.
Kaitlyn swung around, eyes narrowed. She yanked her earbuds out. "What the hell do you want?" She sneered, her icy blue eyes annoyed.
I flinched away, but pulled up my shirt, baring the bruises that were branded onto my pale, freckled skin.
She stared at them blankly.
Help me.
"So?" She demanded.
Save me. You know what I'm going through.
"Little freak," she muttered, turning back around.
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Kaitlyn left the next day.
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I left a week later.
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Present
My eyes opened, and I wiped the sweat out of my eyes, trembling at the memory.
Jace was still asleep, breathing softly.
Kaitlyn...
I shuddered, and might have whimpered some. She'd recognized me. But she hadn't said anything. She didn't care.
Kaelie.
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Jace
I woke up with with my face buried in Pixie's chest.
And for the first time, I didn't think a single perverted thought, for the sole fact that she was stroking my hair back, tugging at my curls lightly.
I think I may have purred a little.
Pixie brushed her hand against my jaw, indicating that she wanted me to look up at her.
Her eyes were warm and affectionate as she looked at me, but she looked incredibly tired.
Speaking of tired...I remembered the bruises I'd seen last night, before I'd fallen asleep.
I pulled out her warm arms, and the cold air of morning slapped me across the face, and I blinked.
"Pixie," I murmured, my voice raspy from sleep. "Did you sleep at all last night?"
She tilted her head curiously, shyly. Then nodded.
Why is she lying to me?
I let it go; No use in starting the day with fighting her. Instead, I sank back into her embrace, nuzzling my nose in her neck. I wasn't taking advantage of her faith in me. Friends were allowed to snuggle. Right?
My hand trailed down her side lightly, and slipped under the edges of her shirt. Pixie immediately stiffened, but this time I didn't pull away. I untucked my face from her neck, and raised her shirt above her tiny, dot-like belly button.
Bruises covered her. Old bruises; Ones that should have faded away by now, but were too roughly given they weren't able to heal.
My hand began shaking as I restrained myself from punching something. Somebody had hurt her. Hurt my Pixie.
Pixie pulled herself out of my grasp, laying a soothing hand on my shaking, much larger hand. She was comforting me when she was the one who was hurt.
"What happened to you, Pix?" I whispered, tracing the dark markings on her hips and lower ribs. "Who did this to you?" Tell me so I can kill them, I added to myself.
She shook her head, trying to tug her shirt back down. I wouldn't let her.
I pulled her onto my lap, holding her tight to me, my grip loose. "Why won't you say anything?" I whispered, my mouth hovering right above her ear. "Why won't you let me help you?"
Pixie began to tremble slightly, and twisted her head, burying her face deep into my thin cotton shirt. She shook her head.
I sighed, and turned her so that she was facing me. I grabbed her hand gently, and began playing with her fingers. She refused to look at me, as if embarassed to have flaws. Flaws similar to mine, except mine were already healed.
"Pixie..." I bent down, brushing my lips against three of the finger-shaped bruises. "Please?"
She froze, staring at me in shock; I hadn't kissed her until then, I realized. I guess I'd gotten so used to her showering me with undeserving kisses at random times, I hadn't really thought about if it was alright if I could kiss her. '
"Who did this to you?" I asked, again.
Pixie made a sighing noise, and pulled my hair. Hard.
I yelped, and immediately removed her hands out of my bed-hair. "What the hell?"
She shook her head, then jumped back on the bed, and began thrashing around.
Was she having a fit?
Pixie threw her head back, and ran her hands down her cheeks, clawing her nails across her face, her mouth wide open in a silent scream.
It took me a second that, in her own way, she was 'telling' me what had happened.
I cautiously got up off the bed, and watched, furious and sad, as I watched Pixie weep, and scratch at herself. She kicked the covers off her body, and grabbed at her chest, squeezing roughly.
"Pixie-"
Still shaking with silent sobs, Pixie's hands clawed at her breasts, savagely attacking herself. The neckline of my baggy old shirt she was wearing pulled down, and nail-marks she'd given herself now scarred them.
I watched, frozen as she tore at herself, trying to rip her skin off her, it seemed. I couldn't seem to move; I needed to, though. She was hurting herself.
It wasn't until she began tugging down her shorts, did I climb quickly onto the bed, and pulled her hands away.
Pixie made a horrible sound.
She screamed, yanking her hands out of my grasp, and began to rake her nails down my cheeks, and I felt blood start to trickle down my cheek. She began trying to push me off of her, and I saw that I was leaning over her; I was terriffying her.
"Stop it," I ordered roughly, gripping her hands and pushing them into the pillows, over her head. "Stop doing this to yourself. I'm not...I'm not him, alright? I'd never hurt you, Pixie."
She stopped screaming, and began to cry, silently.
I lowered myself down next to her, and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her small body to mine, wiping the blood from my face with my other hand.
"Shh," I murmured, rubbing the tears away from her cheeks with the pads of my thumbs. I hated watching people cry, usually, but watching Pixie cry was so damn painful.
She began rubbing at her arms roughly, then stuck her hands up under her shirt, rubbing harder and harder on her bruises.
I recognized what she was doing. I'd done it to myself, after escaping the bastard who'd taken me away from my family: She was trying to wipe away him away from her.
Pixie seemed to realize the bruises weren't going anywhere, and began sobbing again.
I couldn't do anything; She was too fragile right now. The littlest thing could cause her to snap. So I just held her, and hoped that it'd be enough. For now, at least.
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I told you I wouldn't throw Kaelie in there just to rip them apart...;)
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