Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything, except for my OC.
Author's Note: I hope everyone enjoyed the last chapter, because I was very happy with how it turned out. I apologize if the chapter was really long, but I really got into that chapter and I knew that everyone wanted things to end on good terms after what had happened to Marilyn.
WARNING: This story is rated T for drug and alcohol use, sexual content, language, physical abuse, and sexual abuse. The following is not for young viewers. You have been warned, so enjoy! ;)
[Marilyn's POV]
I couldn't remember the last time I'd slept like that. When I didn't have to worry about my drunken father breaking down my door, yelling and hitting me for no reason. When I didn't have to be terrified of waking up to my mother's dead body after she'd overdosed on heroin in the middle of the night. There wasn't the need to wake up several times in the middle of the night just to make sure that I was still breathing. I was so tired, I wondered if I would ever wake up from this long dreamless sleep. God knows that I was much too exhausted to dream.
I finally felt myself being roused by a harsh redness behind my eye lids. My natural reaction was to open my eyes, heavy as they were. A sharp beam of sunlight had found its way between the dark curtains and right onto my face. I winced at the brightness that threatened to blind me, blinking several times before I found my sight adjusting. Though I felt well rested, that sleep was just too good to give up. I began to put my back to the unwelcome light when a sharp pain on my left side nearly took the breath out of me. I froze, the pain making it impossible to move.
No matter how light a breath I took, no matter how short, it hurt so bad. I was stuck in an awkward half-sitting, half-laying down position that arched my back and made my side burn and sting. I kept my lips shut tightly and slowly exhaled through my nose, working my way through the pain.
I looked at the sleeping body next to me, hoping that I wasn't going to wake him. It seemed like he hadn't moved a muscle since I'd fallen asleep, still lying on his back. His hand was laid on his stomach, gently holding onto mine. Honestly, he looked uncomfortable. Stiff as a board and all tensed up, even in his sleep. Although I wanted to lay back down and ease the intense stinging of my ribs, I knew that I couldn't stay here. It was early enough that Tom may not be awake yet. Getting home and up to my room before he had the chance to catch me gone was my first priority. Jack would just have to understand.
That being said, I felt almost guilty for something I hadn't even done yet. The way he'd taken care of me, though I really did find it unnecessary, was the kindest thing that anyone had ever done for me. As much as I refused to admit it, he cared. He cared for me, someone that didn't deserve his attention nor his kindness. I was causing him trouble just by being here, and it would be in his best interest if I never would have showed up at his doorstep. What needed to happen was for me to leave, and never bother Jack Mercer again.
This idea wasn't exactly thrilling. I had felt better in the short amount of time we'd spent together than I had in years. He made me feel just a litter safer, a little more human. He reminded me that I was still alive and not just a ghost living through my horror story of a life over and over again.
I fought against the throbbing pain to sit all the way up, careful to keep quite though I wanted to scream to the top of my lungs. Then, I slowly crawled over top of the sleeping Mercer boy, at the same time, slipping my hand out of his gentle hold. Thankfully, he was too far into his slumber to notice.
It hurt to stand up straight, but it was bearable. Walking, on the other hand, I was unsure of. Slow, short breaths were all that I could manage as I pulled up the shirt I wore to see the what the damage looked like now. I'll admit, I was terrified of what was waiting underneath the white cotton. I thought I was going to go into shock at the sight. The bruise had spread, covering most of my left side. It was an ugly mixture of purples, blues, and greens surrounding the subtle dent in my rib cage. Just looking at it made the pain there so much worse.
My hand automatically went to my mouth in a desperate attempt to keep my tears at bay. I honestly don't know how I would have gotten through the night without that little buzz that had lingered in my system. Now that it was long gone, I was feeling the full intensity of the events of last night. My head felt like it had been split in half and poorly put back together, my inner thighs were so sore, and then there was my broken ribs that seemed to make everything else a little easier to endure.
Before leaving, I needed to make a quick trip to the bathroom. I left Jack's room, refusing to take a last glance at him. After relieving myself, I went to the sink to wash my hands, avoiding the mirror. After I had scrubbed my hands clean, I took a moment of preparation before finally glancing up at my reflection. My right eye was still bruised, and the skin was puffy around the scabbed cut underneath it. How in the hell could Jack Mercer be crazy enough to have any interest in someone who looked like this?
Stop it! Fucking stop it! I shouldn't be thinking about him. I needed to be concerned for myself, worrying about someone else for no reason wasn't going to help me at all. Hoping to snap myself out of it, I cupped my hands under the faucet and gathered a tiny pool of water, soaking my face with it. It really did no justice for me at all.
"God, I'm fucking loosing it." I gasped in a short breath as I left the bathroom.
I shuffled down the stairs as quietly as possible, trying to be gentle on my broken side. Reaching the door, I felt the relief begin to flood my body. The relief of being out of this house and never having to think of Jack Mercer again. With that relief, suddenly came dread. Never think of Jack Mercer again, really? I knew that wasn't possible, not after last night. I'd never be able to forget what he'd done for me, and I was about to walk away with the intention of not seeing him after the fact. What the hell?! That is supposed to be a good thing, Marilyn! If that was so, then why did I feel so guilty?
"Oh! Marilyn, is that you, dear?" A surprised gasp startled me and I froze with my face towards the door. Mrs. Mercer seemed surprised of course, but also curious. I would have expected for her voice to sound upset, with me being in her house without her knowing about it.
I was afraid to turn and face her, afraid for her to see me like this. Once again, I felt myself being worried of what someone would think of me, someone I barely even knew. I swallowed at the lump in my throat as I turned away from the door, shamefully looking Evelyn Mercer in the eye. The curiosity on her face transformed to a look of worry and concern.
"Oh my goodness! Sweetheart, what happened to you?" The elderly woman rushed to me, gently placing her hands on my shoulders.
I bit my lip, unable to find the words to explain myself. Evelyn's aged fingers carefully pulled my hair away from my face so that she could get a good look at my black eye.
"Honey, talk to me." Mrs. Mercer's dark blue eyes waited desperately for me to speak. I knew I had to say something.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Mercer. I shouldn't have come here. It was l-late last night, and I-I just didn't know where else to go. Jack let me in and . . ." I babbled meekly, failing to control my frantic word vomit.
"Sh, sh. Marilyn, it's alright." Evelyn took my face in her hands, her motherly voice calming me into silence. "Why don't you come sit down and you can tell me everything."
She put her hand to my shoulder and motioned me toward the kitchen. No, no, no. I need to go home. You just don't understand.
"Mrs. Mercer, I can't. I really have to go." I tried not to show the anxiety through my words, but this old woman was reading me like I was an open book.
"Well, I'm not about to let you leave out of this house wearing that, it's nearly freezing outside." I bit my lip, knowing that she had a good point. The thin shirt and pajama pants wouldn't do against November-in-Detroit weather. "Now please, come sit down."
For some reason, I couldn't refuse Jack's mom. If it were someone else, I probably wouldn't have hesitated like I was now. She and Jack had this way of sincerity about them, making it hard to turn them down. I finally nodded and walked with Evelyn over to the table and sat down. It hurt to make such a simple movement as this, but I was careful not to let Jack's mom see the pain I was in. She went to the counter and went to filling up a white mug with coffee. She hadn't been awake very long I guessed, seeing as her curly, almost white hair had a bit of bed frizz and she was wearing light pink pajamas under a white robe.
"Do you like coffee?" She asked, taking a second mug out of the cabinet.
"Um, yeah sure. Black, please." I answered politely, fighting the urge to bite at my fingernails.
I noticed Mrs. Mercer's lips curl up at the ends as she filled the second mug, she even let out a hum of a chuckle.
"What?" I asked curiously, finding that I too was wearing a slight smile.
"Oh, nothing. It's just that most young ladies today don't really like black coffee. They usually have more sugar in their cups than anything." Evelyn kept her amused smile as she set one mug next to me and then sat across from me at the table. I slid the cup in front of me and traced a finger around the rim for a moment.
"Yeah, I guess I don't like things sugar-coated." My smile slowly faded as I looked up to Evelyn. She was trying to her polite smile showing, but I knew it had to be hard to force it from where she was sitting, and who she was looking at.
"That's something we have in common, Marilyn." She perked up her smile again as she took a sip from her cup. Her words worried me, giving my the feeling that I was going to have to tell her the truth about last night. All of it, no sugar-coating.
"I'm really sorry about coming here, Mrs. Mercer." I whispered, hoping that she could how honest I was.
"Sweetheart, I'm not worried about that at all. I'm actually very glad that Jack gave you a place to stay last night. The only thing I want to know is what happened before that." Evelyn reassured me, her comforting voice was like a mood changer. Now, her eyes held a seriousness as she waited for me to explain why I looked the way I did.
How could I tell her what happened? It was something that no one should have to hear about, especially a sweet old woman who looked as if she'd give you the shirt off her back. It would be too much for her ears. I nervously brought the mug to my lips and sipped at the hot, black liquid that soothed my throat as it went down.
"I ran into some trouble last night." I began, but I wasn't sure if I could say much more than that, not without the memories flooding back into my mind and possibly horrifying Mrs. Mercer.
"Marilyn." Evelyn's voice brought my eyes up to look at her. "You can tell me."
Right, no sugar-coating. That was much easier said than done. After taking another sip of the coffee, I sighed. I'd been trying to keep my breaths quiet, but each time I inhaled I felt like I was being stabbed in my side.
"I was coming from a friend's house. I . . . had been drinking a little, so I didn't want to go home." I admitted the last part shamefully and lifted my eyes from the table to Mrs. Mercer.
She hadn't looked away from me, she only listened with a mixture of anxiousness and maybe dread. I'd expected to see a judgmental expression formed on her face by now. When I didn't see the tiniest hint of one, I continued.
"I walked to the south part of town, just trying to kill time. Some guys started calling to me from the playground across the street. I tried to ignore them, but . . . they came over to me and . . . um." I got harder for me to breathe. I tried to keep from choking up, but the painful reminders made it difficult.
"Oh my God." Evelyn whispered, a watery film and formed over her eyes. Her fingers her pressed against her lips as she lowered her gaze.
I bit the inside of my cheek and turned my attention to the window closest to me. It was obvious to Mrs. Mercer that something bad had happened , but she just might have regretted asking at this point. I finally faced her again after taking a moment to control my emotions, she seemed to be puzzled by my lack of . . . shock, I should say.
"Are you all right?" She asked very seriously, clearly suggesting my emotional detachment of the whole matter.
"I doubt it, Mrs. Mercer." I answered her with an attitude that I noticed to be too casual. Evelyn nodded, she didn't pry, she didn't judge me. I liked her. I was glad that Jack could call her Mom, I wish I could.
[Jack's POV]
I felt sleep leaving me, but I was still so tired that I didn't want to let it go. I rolled over on my side, without a thought. Then, I remembered Marilyn. I immediately rose up, afraid that I'd accidentally laid on top of her. My eyes snapped open, but there was no Marilyn.
Shit!
The realization instantly hit me, that she'd left. But it wasn't so surprising. I should have known this would happen. Deep down, I think I expected it.
I threw my legs off the side of the bed and just sat there for a moment, that's all I could do. For some reason, I began to feel angry, but not at Marilyn. The need to punch something was urgent, like my head was going to explode if I didn't hit something . . . or someone.
I had to get up, my legs needed to be moving.
I left my room quickly and jogged down the stairs and was headed for the front door when I heard my mother talking in the kitchen. Then, I heard another voice. It was one that I knew all too well. My body turned in the direction of the kitchen almost instantly and I went seeking what I hoped to be Marilyn.
I paused in the doorway when I caught sight of Marilyn sitting at the table. I leaned against the frame and let out a heavy, very relieved sigh. The sound directed the girl's attention to me as well as my mother's.
"Good morning, Jack." Ma said to me. By the tone of her voice, I sensed there was going to be a long talk coming soon.
"Hey, ma." I lowered my gaze.
"Have a seat. We were just talking." She said, giving the blonde girl a sympathetic smile.
I sat next to Marilyn, her eyes avoided me.
"Hey."
"Hey." She whispered before taking a drink of coffee.
I glanced back and forth between her and my mom, not sure what to say. I noticed Marilyn's fingers trembling, fidgeting nervously. I knew a clear sign of withdraws when I saw it, I'm pretty sure my mom figured it out too.
"Well, I need to go get ready. Marilyn, you just make yourself at home, okay?" Ma took her coffee and walked out of the kitchen.
"Get ready for what?" Marilyn asked, her body seemed more relaxed but her breathing was still shallow, her fingers still twitched.
"She does volunteer work at the foster care center." I answered simply.
After silently mouthing an "oh", Marilyn sipped at her coffee for a moment. Her nails ticked against the porcelain mug.
"You know you look like hammered shit, right?"
"Yeah." Marilyn said with a smile.
"Smiles look good on you." At this, her lips relaxed back into their usual somber position.
"Smiles look good on people."
"Then what are you?" I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped.
Marilyn glanced at me once, finished her coffee, and then looked back at me.
"I'll let you know."
She got up, slowly.
"Where you goin'?"
"Home." She answered as she walked out of the kitchen.
I jumped and followed Marilyn to the door and stood between her and her escape.
"No you're not." I said firmly. After everything I found out last night, I didn't want Marilyn to back to walking the streets and I especially didn't want her going home.
"What are you gonna do? Hold me hostage?" The girl rolled her eyes.
"Maybe."
"Jack, I have to go." Marilyn whispered. Her green eyes seemed more grey.
I didn't want her to leave. There was no guarantee that I'd ever see her again. That thought was scary.
[Marilyn's POV]
I couldn't figure out what Jack was thinking, part of me didn't want to know. All I wanted to do was go home and get it all over with. The longer I stayed away, the worse the trouble would be. But Jack Mercer just didn't understand.
"Tell you what, I'll walk you there." He began, but I was instantly objecting.
"No."
"We'll get you some clothes -"
"No."
"Yes, and you're gonna stay here for a while."
"No, Jack! I said no!" I pushed him away from the door and ran outside. I didn't look back. The cold air burned in my lungs.
"Marilyn." Jack called, but I ignored him. "Marilyn!"
Within seconds, I heard bare feet smacking the pavement behind me. I would have tried to run faster, but the pain in my side was like someone was stabbing me with a knife. I should have stopped, but I was too stubborn. I'd made it half way down the street before my body couldn't take the strain I was putting it through. My feet stopped, but my lungs felt like they were being squeezed. While working through my coughing fit, I saw the pair of bare feet finding their way in front of me.
"Marilyn, stop it." Jack sighed.
"No! You stop it!" I shouted as I looked up at him. He needed to go away and leave me alone. Just go away!
"Stop what? What the hell did I do?"
"Stop doing this to me! Stop being nice, I don't deserve it! I just want to go back home." Raising my voice hurt, but I was too frustrated to worry about it.
"Why do you want to go back?" Jack's voice didn't rise above normal tone.
"Because there, I know what to expect! I know what's going to happen. But you, all you do is confuse me and I don't like not knowing."
I didn't get the chance to say anything else. Jack's lips crashed onto mine. I tried to push him away, but his arms were wrapped around me and wouldn't budge. Then, I gave in, much faster than I would have. I let him kiss me, I even kissed him back. But then I realized what a fucking cliché it was and I ducked my head down to tear our lips apart.
"Now you know."
