Chapter Ten: Nothing Else Matters

When she was ready, Eli helped her stand, pretending not to notice as she did her pants up. She was trembling from the fight and unstable because of the alcohol, so Eli put one arm behind her to steady her, while she clung to his other arm. By the time they got out to the living room, everyone was gone, except for Drew and Marisol. Marisol was eyeing Eli, looking like she wanted to say something to him, but decided against it. Drew ignored them as they walked out the door.

She tried to open the car door herself, but her hand fumbled with the handle, so he opened it for her, holding it open as she slid in. She fumbled with her seatbelt as he moved around to get in the car himself, but she had it sorted out herself by the time he had the key in the ignition.

He wished he'd been home when he'd gotten the news, because his house was closer to Marisol's than the Dot. They arrived in front of his house in almost no time at all. As he shut the car off, he turned to Anya, who was holding her head with one of her hands. "Stay here, okay? I just need to tell my parents you're going to be coming in, so they don't freak out." She nodded, but he wasn't sure she really heard him, and he hurried out of the car and across the lawn.

Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, Eli was realizing how hard Owen had hit him. His jaw ached, and he found his whole body was aching, no doubt from the tension that he'd felt during the whole fight. He suddenly felt more tired than he should have, and just wanted to sleep.

He found Bullfrog and Cece curled up on the couch watching a movie. They looked up when he entered, and Bullfrog immediately paused the movie, Cece jumping up and going to him. "Eli, baby, what happened?" She reached for his face but he pulled away, knowing he must have a bruise and not wanting to feel the sting when she touched it.

"Do you guys remember telling me before that if something bad happened, you'd do whatever to help me, no questions asked?" Bullfrog was standing behind his wife now, looking Eli's face over carefully.

Cece looked terrified. "Honey, tell us who did this to you."

"Mom, please," Eli said. "Do you remember telling me that?"

"Of course we do, Eli," Bullfrog said, a strange expression on his face that Eli couldn't quite interpret. "What do you need us to do?"

Eli closed his eyes for a moment. "There's this girl –"

He opened his eyes to see Cece's eyebrows raise in surprise. "A girl hit you? What did you do to her?"

"Nothing! It wasn't a girl that hit me." Bullfrog moved past him, but Eli kept looking at his mom. "Please just believe me when I say I didn't do anything wrong here."

"Is this girl you're referring to the same one sitting in your car right now, bud?" Eli turned and saw Bullfrog had lifted a slate in the blinds and was looking outside. Cece brushed past him and joined her husband at the window.

"Eli, who is that? That's not Clare…."

Eli fought to bite back a sarcastic remark. "I know it's not Clare. Her name is Anya, and just…look, I don't want to get into it right now, but let's just say she needed some help, and I helped her, and I need her to stay here tonight."

Bullfrog turned his head and looked at Eli. "Now, I know I told you you'd get over Clare and all, but I think it's a little soon for a girl to be spending the night. I know sex seems like all fun and games at your age – and believe me, it can be – but it can carry some consequences too -"

"Dad, come on!" Eli snapped, his impatience getting the better of him. He ran his fingers over his eyebrows, trying to calm down. This wasn't their fault –they were way behind in what was going on his life, and as traumatizing as his father's advice on sex was, he was just trying to help. "I am not asking you for permission to have sex with her. I just need her to stay here because I can't leave her on her own right now. So either you can let me bring her in here, or we're going to sit out in my car all night."

Cece walked back over to him, giving him a sad smile. "Of course she can stay, sweetie. We're just worried about you."

"I understand, mom, but I'm fine." He started to head to the door, but Bullfrog stopped him.

"Just tell me one thing. Did you at least give him worse than he gave you?"

Eli smirked. "As if you could expect any less?" With that, he raced back outside to find Anya resting her head on the window, her finger tracing along the window track. He waved at her from the front of the car and waited till she saw him and moved before he opened her door. "All set," he said, trying to keep his voice bright.

She walked behind him, slowly but more steadily than he anticipated, but she froze when they got to the door. Of course his parents wouldn't have had the forethought to go somewhere else, and were still in the living room, sitting on the couch and obviously waiting for them to come in. "Right," Eli said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "Anya, this is my mom, Cece, and my dad, Bullfrog. Guys, this is Anya MacPherson – we're in French class together."

Anya was holding onto the doorframe with one hand, looking rather surprised at seeing them. She glanced at Eli nervously, and he knew they were both thinking the same thing. Her makeup was smudged, she smelled of alcohol, she was drunk, and worst of all, she was wearing Eli's shirt. None of that screamed 'Look at the nice girl I just brought home, Mom and Dad!'

Cece was looking at her, and Eli saw the way her eyebrows raised as she recognized the shirt she had on. He was holding Anya's original shirt in his hand, but he had wadded it up so much that he didn't think she noticed. "It's very nice to meet you," Anya said carefully, and Eli could tell from the way she inhaled after that she tried very hard to sound stone cold sober as she said it.

"Nice to meet you too, dear," Cece said, smiling in a way Eli knew she didn't really mean.

He lightly grabbed Anya's forearm, and felt the way she flinched. Cursing himself for even trying to touch her, he jerked his head toward the bedroom door. "Come on," he said, and the two went into his room. He shut the door behind him, not caring what his parents thought of it.

"Please just take my bed tonight," he implored, leading her to the bed and sitting her on it. He tossed her shirt into the far corner of the room, knowing as he did so that his therapist would have wildly disapproved of the move. But he didn't care. Tonight was not the night for progress, not after everything.

It appeared Anya's adrenaline had worn off as well, leaving her just as exhausted as he felt, because she didn't complain, just kicked her shoes off and brought her legs up onto the bed. He thought he should probably offer her something more comfortable to sleep in than her jeans, but before he could voice the thought, she looked up at him, her eyelids dancing as she tried to stay focused. "Stay with me?" she asked quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't really want to be alone tonight. And you…you make me feel safe, so I want you to stay." She lifted her hand, holding it out to him, and Eli froze. It's the alcohol talking, he tried to tell himself. Anya would never ask him to stay otherwise.

But what did that mean? Did it mean he had to turn her down? Where was the line here? It wasn't as if she was suggesting they have sex, just actually sleep together – what was the harm in sleeping, really? But would she be mad the next day when she realized he was really there?

Eli was too tired to overanalyze the situation. For once, his exhaustion outweighed his neuroses. He removed his jacket and his shoes, moving around Anya and joining her on the bed. He propped the pillows up at the head of the bed, so that when he laid back against them he was still half sitting – a suitable compromise in his mind between staying with Anya and not looking more suggestive than he wanted to be. He waited for Anya to move, unsure how she intended to lay.

She was quite a bit bolder than he expected, but as he watched her move, he realized it was as much out of exhaustion as anything else. Like him, she just didn't have the energy to care about what they should be doing, what was proper or what wouldn't be taken the wrong way. So she laid down on her side, her knees against his left leg. She slid her right arm behind his back, around his waist, and laid her head against his chest, her left hand resting on his shoulder. Her hair was right below his chin, and over the stale alcohol on her breath, he could smell her shampoo – honey and vanilla.

He leaned back against the pillows, his jaw pounding, and wrapped his arms around Anya, who he was pretty sure was already asleep, closing his eyes.

It was cold without her shirt, and she was reaching for her phone, determined to get ahold of Eli again. To tell him to come get her, that she didn't want to be there, to just escape….

His hand was on the button of her jeans, fumbling to undo it as he bit her on the shoulder. It hurt, and she wanted to move away, but his other arm was circled around her exposed stomach, holding her against him.

"Anya."

She whimpered, her hand finally making contact with her phone. The hand disappeared from her jeans and she was happy, but only for a moment, as the next her phone was ripped from her hand and she heard it crash against the wall. Then the hand was back, pulling at her zipper.

"It's okay. Stop."

Anya knew she was supposed to be fighting, supposed to be screaming, supposed to be saying no. How did she even get here? She felt his hand on her now, fingers playing at the edge of her underwear. No.

"Anya. Stop. Anya!"

She lurched forward, gasping. Looking around wildly, Anya found she didn't recognize anything about the room she was in. How could that be? What was the last thing she remembered? She covered her face, too scared to look around anymore. Owen. She was still with him, it wasn't over.

"Anya, it's okay." Anya's hand slid down her face. That soft, scared voice wasn't Owen at all. She whirled around, coming face to face with a very startled Eli. "Eli?"

He'd been woken by her thrashing around, hands clawing at her own stomach, pulling at his shirt and making long red marks just above her jeans. Half disoriented, he'd tried to wake her, softly at first but getting more firm as she whimpered, tears falling from her eyes even as she slept.

She didn't know she was in his room when she woke, and she hadn't even realized she was with him until she looked back, saying his name like she couldn't believe it was him. "Yeah, it's me," he responded with a smirk.

"What – what happened?" she asked slowly, looking down at them on the bed, then looking around the room, trying to orient herself.

His stomach felt queasy. "How much do you remember?"

She blinked at him, a concentrated look on her face while she tried to figure out how much she did remember. "I remember going to the party, I remember trying to talk to you, I remember…" she hesitated, taking a shaky breath before continuing, "…I remember Owen, and I remember –" she looked at him sharply. Her fingers came up, running softly along his jaw. "Oh god, I'm so sorry, Eli."

He looked at her as if she was crazy. "Sorry for what?"

Anya's head was pounding, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl in a hole and never come out. She was stupid, stupid, stupid and this was all her fault. Poor Eli. The whole left side of his face was bruised, and all because she hadn't had the courage to tell her friends no when they asked her to the stupid party. All because she hadn't paid enough attention and drank too much. All because she couldn't handle her own life, and he had to keep coming in and fix it for her. "Your face…" she whispered, pulling her hand away when she realized it might be hurting him.

Eli snorted. "I don't think it's your job to apologize for my face, but it's good to know how you feel about it."

She managed a weak smile for his benefit. He was trying to be cute, but really…she didn't deserve that. Not after everything he'd been through for her. "You know what I meant."

"Actually, I don't. I haven't gotten the chance to look…how badass does it make me look?" He tilted his head and made a face, as if posing for a picture.

"This isn't funny!" she insisted, swatting at his arm. "You could've gotten seriously hurt, and for what?"

He straightened out, all laughter gone from his face. "First of all, I wouldn't have gotten seriously hurt. This was not my first fight, and I can guarantee you it isn't going to be my last. Secondly…'for what'? You said you remember what happened…are you sure you remember?"

She knew he didn't mean it the way it sounded, but it made her skin crawl to think about. She knew she was lucky, she was so lucky that Eli had shown up when he did. It made her uncomfortable to think of what Owen did, but it was nothing compared to what he could have, and would have, done if Eli hadn't shown up. But still, he'd done things she hadn't wanted him to, and she'd sat there and allowed it to happen, even if she hadn't really meant to. And he'd taken off her shirt and everyone had seen her that way, and she just wished she could bleach that image from everyone's minds.

At the time, she'd barely understood what was happening until she saw Owen punch Eli. It was as if things suddenly became clear, and her only thought had been rescuing the boy who was rescuing her, and so she'd grabbed Owen, but he'd thrown her off. As if triggered by the memory, she felt her lower back twinge and she grabbed it, wincing. "What's wrong?" Eli asked immediately.

"Nothing."

"No, you're hurt, aren't you? Let me see." He reached toward her, but thought better of it. Of course – if he tried to help, it'd be like Owen, and he didn't want her to think that way of him. Begrudgingly, she turned to the side, lifting up the back of her shirt on the side where it'd hurt.

Eli hissed, drawing in air through his teeth. "The nightstand?" he guessed, and she nodded, pushing the shirt back down and turning around. "Anything else?" he asked, eyeing her carefully.

She considered lying, but after everything, she figured Eli at least deserved honesty. Besides, maybe telling him would make the whole thing more justified. Pretending she was fine cheapened the reason for him coming at all. She pulled the neck of the shirt over to the side, turning again to show him the bite marks on her shoulder. She looked away as he examined them, but she when put the shirt back she caught the look of rage in his eyes. "I'm fine," she told him.

The look didn't change. "He won't be."

"It doesn't need to go any further than this, Eli, it really doesn't," Anya said. "It's only going to lead to more trouble for you that you don't deserve. He didn't really…do anything."

He leaned forward, still looking intense. "He did enough." He paused, licking his lips. "Are you sure you aren't blocking anything out or forgetting anything?"

She thought for a moment, then nodded. "Things are fuzzy, but I know it didn't go any further than it was when you came in."

He closed his eyes. "I think you need to tell me what it was he was doing when I came in."

"What? Why? You…you saw."

"I know. But if you can't name it, it's going to control you." He grabbed her hands, making sure she was looking him in the eyes. "Do not give him the power of your silence."

She wanted to tell him no. Owen didn't have any power over her, he hadn't done anything to deserve power, but…Eli had a point. If she allowed it to be something she couldn't say, it would only be scarier, something harder for her to deal with than it needed to be. She looked down at the floor, pulling her hands from Eli's. She would do what he asked, but she wouldn't face him while she did it. "He was touching me. His hand was…down there, and he was touching things. But it didn't go any further than that –" she looked at him, "I swear it didn't."

Eli saw the pleading look in her eyes, and he realized what she was afraid of. That he would think she was Owen's now, that there was some part of her that belonged to him. As much as she didn't want to say it, she also wanted to make sure he didn't read more into it than there was. He gave her a half smile, wishing he could touch her, kiss her. He wanted to be able to erase Owen's hold on her, and he wanted her to be able to be his if she wanted. He would take care of her, he would deserve her, even if no one else ever had before. But he couldn't, too afraid she'd pull away, too afraid to push before she was ready and ruin the whole thing.

"I believe you," he said instead, folding his hands together to keep them still. "But all that really matters is that you're going to be okay."

"How did you even know I needed you?"

"Drew," he said simply, but then saw how confused Anya looked. "I was with Adam, and he called Adam to try to find me. Owen was bragging that it was going to be 'his night', so to speak, and Drew thought he'd give me the head's up."

Anya laughed bitterly. "Good to know I can be in a house full of people claiming to be my friends, and the best anyone can do is call someone else to come get me."

"They're cowards," Eli said automatically. He was angry with every single person at that party, and he didn't care whether Anya considered them friends or not. "See, one of the perks of being a 'misfit'…you don't care about keeping up appearances. They're all too afraid to ruffle feathers, to stand up for something when the others won't, so they just shut up. I don't."

Anya smiled at him. "That's not because you're a misfit, Eli," she said, placing her hand on his knee. "It's because you're amazing."

She started to lean forward, and Eli moved forward too – not enough to close the gap between them, but enough to show her he was on the same page as her – and then there was a knock at the door. Anya scooted back as if burned, her hand flying off of Eli's leg.

"Yeah?" Eli called out.

The door cracked open and Bullfrog's head popped in. He glanced on Anya, seemed to take a quick survey of their positions in relation to each other, and then looked straight at Eli. "You have guests."

Eli glanced over at Anya, who was looking at him with raised eyebrows. Looking back at Bullfrog, he asked, "And they are?"

Bullfrog hesitated. "Adam," he started, and then, looking almost apologetic, "and Clare."

Next time, in Chapter 11: Not Ready to Make Nice – Eli gets backed into a corner, Anya sees Eli for who he really is, and a line gets drawn in the sand.

A/N: You guys are just the best! Seriously, you have no idea how much your reviews mean to me. I'm so happy you're all enjoying the story, and I loved some of the choice names you had for Owen. Trust me, neither Anya nor Eli are done with him yet. But for now, Eli's gotta deal with his Clare problem. Thank you again for all your support and kind words! :)