Author's Note: First of all, I'd like to apologize for the 2-month long hiatus, and the empty promises of quick updates. I'd rather not get into why I've been avoiding updating this story. Nicky's nickname in this is taken from Little Fang by Avey Tares Slasher Flicks, bc that song is bomb af, as well as Red giving Nicky lion-related nicknames bc of her hair. Anyway, according to Google translate 'Ne boysya monstrov, lyubov' moya. Ty sil'neye vsekh, moya malen'kaya veshch'.' means 'Don't be afraid of monsters, my love. You're stronger than all of them, my little fanged-thing.' and 'Khoroshaya devochka, moy Nikita.' means 'Good girl, my Nikita.' Anyway, this chapter has someone planning on confronting their abuser, but then backing out. I do not mean to encourage anyone to confront their abusers, bc that can be a very dangerous thing. Also, as far as Paloma goes, I'm trying to make her a difficult character to place as far as her morality. Sure, she appears to be trying to help now, but she didn't help earlier. Can she really be trusted? And should she be? Idk. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this chapter. WARNING: This chapter contains anxiety and its symptoms, abuse, child abuse, emotional abuse, gaslighting, transphobia, queerphobia, self-blaming, self-hatred, mentions of drugs, trauma, and PTSD and its symptoms.

Paloma looks to Nicky, a pained expression on her face. Marka, meanwhile, smirks. The younger blonde feels her blood run cold, and she slowly tries to move back toward the door, as her birthmother starts to approach. All her previous bravado is quickly evaporating, at the sight of that familiar cruel face.

"What are you doing back here, son?"

Fuck. Fuck, what do I do? Nicky thinks, feeling terrified. Marka is always cruel. But she is only ever smug if things are about to get really bad for the younger blonde.

The teen hears a familiar voice in the back of her mind. Her mother, her real mother, reassuring her, years ago, on a particularly bad night. Ne boysya monstrov, lyubov' moya. Ty sil'neye vsekh, moya malen'kaya veshch'. Nicky feels anger rise within her breast. Anger at the woman who made her childhood hell, who still seems determined to do bad by her.

"I'm here to get some things. Then I'm leaving. So, you won't have to deal with my presence for much longer," She says carefully, but still defiantly.

"Oh, but why wouldn't I want you around, Nicholas? You're my son. I love you," Marka replies, voice as sweet, slow, and sickly as cough medicine.

The blonde teen doesn't reply, instead side-stepping around the older woman. In all the tension, she had forgotten that Paloma is in the room. When Nicky heads upstairs to her old bedroom, her former nanny follows, and closes the door behind them, making the younger woman jump, and turn around.

"Sorry you had to see that," Nicky says, looking away from her former caretaker, to the brindle cat curled up on her bed. She smiles slightly, and reaches a hand out to scratch under his chin. He purrs, gets up, stretches, and moves to rub against her.

"I'm sorry that had to happen to you, Nicky," The brunette replies, sounding earnest.

"I'm used to it."

"Nicky…I want to help you. A police officer talked to me last week. She said her name was Susan Fischer, and that she was trying to help you get out of Marka's custody. Is that true?"

"Yeah, but why do you care? You obviously knew things and you didn't do shit. You could have helped me, and you didn't. Why? Did she threaten you? Did she pay you off? Or did you just fucking hate me as much as her?!" The teen angrily spats. She thinks that she can just come back to help me eight years too late, and everything will be peachy fucking keen?!

Paloma sighs. "You're right. I was wrong. I should have helped you. I'll never forgive myself for not helping sooner. But I'm here now. I want to help now. That cop told me that you seem to have blocked out some things that happened to you. If you were able to access those memories and use them, it could help your case. I care about you, Nicky. I always did. I'm not asking you to forgive me. I'm asking for you to let me help you."

"How the fuck do I know that you're still not working for her?"

"I'm not. All I can give you on that front is my word. If you want my help, you'll have to give me some trust. I understand that you probably hate me now, but I really want to try and make things right with us," The older brunette says. Looking into her eyes, Nicky can see that she's crying.

"…Fine. Let me get my shit out of here, and to my home. You can come with, and we'll talk there. I'm not saying I trust or forgive you, because I don't. But I have to do this," The blonde teen says, the last part to both herself and her former nanny. In the back of her mind, she hears a distinctly Russian voice speak yet again. Khoroshaya devochka, moy Nikita.