Disclaimer: I do not own Ib.


Chapter 9

Ib was a patient child, but she was always the first one out of the classroom when the bell signalled the end of the school day. As she looked at the mob already forming at the entrance to the bus, she couldn't help wishing that her class was closer to the front of the school. She tugged on her scarf nervously as she joined it. Ib closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steady herself. But as she opened them she felt worse than before. When she'd joined the mass, she'd been at the edge. But now, she found herself surrounded by others waiting to get on the bus. She clutched her scarf in small fists and tried to relax. It had been a nice day, sunny and warm. She looked around herself. The mass, ever-shifting, seemed to block out all traces of light. Smothering it. Extinguishing it. Feeling her heart constrict, she looked up, hoping to see the bright blue sky. Some sort of sign of open space, of freedom. But the patch of blue above her was not comforting. She was small, even for her age, and the bodies of those seemed to tower above her. The brightness of day behind them rendered them featureless, merely shadows surrounding her. And she could just imagine those shadows expanding, branching out into that one patch of blue, of light, swallowing it up until she was left blind. She closed her eyes, willing herself to believe that she was alone, that she didn't feel so crowded. But the illusion was shattered before it could even begin to take form, as bodies bumped into her.

She made a conscious effort to take deep breaths. She comforted herself, telling herself that she just needed to wait. Just a little bit more. She just needed to wait for everyone to get in then she'd take a seat and be done with it. It didn't help as she imagined the scenario. She'd get on and end up in a middle seat. The bus would hit bumps, take turns, and shoulders would bump into hers. She'd still be crowded. Her panic rose and she opened her eyes. She looked around herself, head whipping in different directions. She needed to get out of here. Then finally she saw a tiny sliver of light between bodies. She threw herself at the gap, not allowing herself to wait until it disappeared. She squeezed through, somehow staying aware enough to mumble out apologies to the people she was shoving.

She broke out of the mass, feeling lighter instantly. She gasped in deep breaths, savoring the taste of freedom. She starting walking home. A hand tugged at her scarf as she thought of how her parents would react if they knew she'd been walking home for the last few months. She tried every day. But she could not force herself to take the bus like she did in the past. The crowd had become stifling. In the mass of bodies, all blurring together, she couldn't help remembering.

Darkness everywhere. The only light was from the lightly glowing neon drawings on the floor. She was alone.

She shook her head, trying to derail the train of thought.

Walking around, stumbling in the dark. She could feel something brush against her with every few steps she took. She whimpered out Garry's name.

She pushed the button for the crosswalk harder than necessary.

Feeling sore all over, reaching the elastic of her skirt to examine a rose that was not there.

She hopped impatiently from foot to foot as she waited for the light the change.

Panicking, running blind around the dark room. Hoping to find Garry, her rose, an exit...anything.

The walk signal came on and she hurried across the street.

So dark. So very dark. She was barely able to stop herself from tripping over Garry on the floor. So dark, she hadn't even seen Garry until he was inches in front of her.

Three more blocks to go.

A pink key on a pink drawing. Dim light flooding the room as all the statues, dolls, and mannequin heads that she couldn't see before started to glow.

Two blocks.

There were so many. All around. Getting closer.

One more block.

They missed the stairs the first time around.

Just a few houses down.

Circling around. Dodging. Garry kicking a mannequin head into a headless statue. Garry muttering something about irony. Whatever that was.

She was at the front door. Where was her key?

Yanking a doll that clutched onto Garry's pants.

It was in the last pocket she checked. It was always in the last pocket.

Garry lifting her up, taking steps two at a time. The thudding footsteps behind them.

She unlocked and opened the door.

Garry opening the door and slamming it shut behind them.

Home free.


When Ezekiel returned home, he frowned at the scene in front of him. That boy never seemed to leave. He seemed to have made himself at home on their little couch and his daughter was all too happy to have him there. His frowned deepened as he looked to his wife. Smile stretched wide across her face, it was obvious the boy had somehow coaxed her to his side. It was as if none of them thought it odd that the older male was so undeniably intimate with their little girl. His mood soured. They had not even noticed his presence when he'd been standing there for a good few minutes.

"Daddy!"

His dark mood disappeared in his surprise as she tackled him, wrapping arms around him tightly. Though he'd been knocked back a bit by the impact, he managed to remain upright, an arm winding its way around her automatically. His gaze soft upon her head, which was now burrowing happily into his stomach, he raised his free arm and ruffled her hair affectionately. She looked up at the gesture, pout upon her face, silently admonishing him for ruining her hair. He apologized to her indulgently, her face too earnest and innocent to be considered anything but endearing. He watched the pout melt away from her face, a subtle signal that indicated forgiveness. He took in her features: the twinkling eyes, the happy glow, the smile that adorned her face; and he felt inadequate. Because even as he looked at her expression, undoubtedly happy, he could not help but notice the darkness carved from so many sleepless nights underneath her eyes. This greeting was right. It had been normal. He knew that, remembered the fact as clear and irrefutable as day. But how long had it been since he had last gotten such an exuberant greeting from this wonderful child? Months of nightmares had chased this away, had taken away the glow from bright―in all senses of the word―little Ib. And now she was getting better. But progress had not been made until that boy had come along.

He made eye contact with the boy and nodded stiffly in acknowledgement. He watched the surprise flit across his face before he caught himself and returned a polite greeting in reply. Yes, he was grateful, but he did not have to like him. He would continue to watch the boy―Garry―he corrected himself. But he would try―his jaw locked uncomfortably at the thought―to behave civilly. It was probably the best course of action for his daughter, but the concept made a fresh wave of resentment wash over him. Ib needed Garry. Garry helped Ib. He made the nightmares stop. So by the transitive property, he needed Garry.

But he was her father! Shouldn't he be the one to chase the demons away? To comfort her? To make her feel safe? Shouldn't he know her better than anyone? But it was Garry who seemed to come to her rescue at every turn. He'd been the only one to make any sort of difference. He could see, though he tried not to, that he knew exactly what she was going through. He knew exactly what she needed. And he was able to provide it for her too.

He swallowed the resentment, feeling sick. His own petty jealousy would amount to nothing but harm. His thoughts were poison, something that, left unchecked, could cause the slow death of his daughter. No. He did not like the idea, and he wouldn't.

He could not help his daughter.

But he was going to let Garry do whatever he could for her.


A/N: And another one down! I'm excited for the next chapter. I've had the idea for it since a couple chapters ago but I needed to do the lead up to it. I wasn't expecting the transition up to it to take it's own chapter though. But I like the way this turned out.

Thank you all so much for reading this bit of whimsy of mine.

Until next time friendlies,

Dfsemina