A/N: PLOT HAS ARRIVED- also ACTION!
(Where is this whole story even going, I swear...)
Warnings for this chapter: Child Abuse, Body Dissociation (of a sort)
Disclaimer: refer to Prologue
Chapter 1
Reincarnation supposedly took a long time to happen; a couple of centuries at least – according to whatever source her former self had taken the piece of information from in the first place.
But looking at the imposing building of Starford Academy, there was no doubt in her mind that she had ended up in the same time period she'd died in. Indeed, much like the house had already been hinting at, the school was also just the right amount of modern-but-not-futuristic that the former 22-year-old could remember from her previous architectural knowledge.
And that was enough to send her brain into a panicked frenzy of unanswerable questions all over again.
... Another blunder from the Powers That Be?
... actually, she'd rather avoid dwelling too deeply into that, so shoving-it-all-to-the-back-of-her-mind-for-future-perusal it was.
And really, she told herself, if anything the fact that she would end up in the same time period, bar a few years or so, was convenient; she wouldn't have to get used to stuff she was supposed to have grown up with, for instance, and she wouldn't have to pretend not to gawk at giant androids or whatever sci-fi-worthy stuff the future had in store.
Basically, her previous knowledge was up-to-date.
Also, if the size and modernity of the building was any indication, Ann's fath- her father (that was going to take some getting used to), was loaded.
Which meant that she was now one step closer to figuring out his identity (she couldn't just up and ask him details she was already supposed to know after all) and his role in Ann's life.
She clenched her tiny fists when they entered the building:
Progress.
She took back what she'd said about that man being her father:
He'd left her all alone to fend for herself!
In a place full of snotty kids and self-important adults!
Sure, they had been shown around the school together, and she'd been able to pick a class of her choosing so that she could observe how courses went, but then- that man- he'd been standing in silence right behind her, listening to the Madison-or-whatever lady, and the next second, he was gone!
"... -belle? Annabelle?"
And why wasn't that 'Annabelle' fellow replying to-
...
Oh.
The brunette almost face-palmed before speaking up.
(She really needed to get used to that name and soon.)
"I'm sorry Miss, I spaced out for a sec; you were saying?" she asked in Ann's soft and absurdly young voice, which she was barely starting to get used to after a week of silence.
(Her own fault, she could admit.)
The group leader looked taken aback for about a few seconds – whatever for? –, but soon got that vapid smile back in place on her painted lips. The brunette just knew the woman was going to spout something about channelling your emotions into something productive – as if she wasn't talking to a bunch of kids who were slowly falling asleep as she lectured them –, since that was pretty much what she'd been up to for the past thirty minutes or so, but-
"Erm sorry to interrupt, Madie..."
-fortunately, a man walked in just then, and she recognised him as the not-so-bright PE teacher who'd given her and her 'father' (yes, she was still sore) their tour of the school, earlier.
This time he was accompanied by a new duo composed of a young girl with a rainbow headband, and a tall dashing man in... a... suit...
... who reminded her of someone...?
"This is Trixie and her father," the PE teacher introduced with an uncertain smile, "they seem very interested in your class."
'Maddie''s answering smile was tense, and the brunette could immediately tell that there was some kind of history between the two, but she was quickly distracted by the father again.
Tall, lean, dark hair perfectly coiffed, and suit devoid of any crease... He certainly couldn't be reminding her of one of her past self's boyfriends, she admitted to herself, acknowledging that he seemed in a league of his own (a small voice in the back of her mind that definitely belonged to past-her protested outrageously at that assumption).
Still, this familiarity... She was immediately intrigued.
A former babysitter of Ann's?
"Oh, I see. Well, please, take a seat, we were just getting started with today's session."
A cousin...?
She unthinkingly stood up in order to fetch a larger chair from the back of the room – some sort of kid version of an armchair that she had spotted earlier – when it became obvious the small seats arranged in a circle wouldn't be large enough for any grown-man to sit on.
Needless to say, she was reminded of her new body and its strength only after she'd started dragging the chair with her.
She still managed to haul it to its final destination, ignoring 'Madie''s "Oh that's very nice of you, Anabelle" (which didn't mean she offered to help) and her unsubtle glances at her own son who was busy eating his boogers. In the meantime, the new little girl with the colorful headband had thoughtfully been making room between the brunette's bean bag and the only unoccupied small seat left – which she took for herself –, so that there was just enough room to fit the sort-of-armchair in-between the two.
Before she could get to that final step however, she felt the chair becoming lighter in her hands, and realised the father had lifted it himself.
He was also squinting at her.
"... Thank you." he said slowly with a British accent of sorts, and she barely managed not to snort: why did he sound so wary of an eight-year-old?
"Don't mention it." she replied, taking back her seat, and smothering the urge to chuckle as he kept on sending her a suspicious side-eye even as he sat down himself.
In addition to being familiar, this guy was pretty funny.
... Her grin dropped.
All joking aside, the thought gave her pause. How could this man remind her of someone if she didn't have any memories?
She blinked as puzzle pieces rapidly started assembling together in her mind.
If... If this was indeed the same time period as before she'd died... and in addition to that, she felt like she knew this person... Did that mean there was a possibility that she had actually known him 'before'...?
Then... Did that mean she could discover her past-self's identity? Her former name...? Her former life? Her former family?- Did that mean- that, somewhere, she had family members, grieving for her without knowing she was back...?
What if, instead of reincarnation, she had really somehow ended up in Ann's body after an accident, like in that Drop Dead D*va TV show-
"I feel sad..."
The soft voice of the helpful little girl broke her out of her impending panic attack.
She took several deep breaths, letting them out slowly, trying to control the wild beating of her heart.
Right now, she needed to calm down. Focus on the present. Wild theories could wait for when she got back to the house.
... It wasn't like she could ask the familiar man anything that would confirm her theories without sounding crazy either, and panicking over something you couldn't do anything about was pretty useless as a general rule.
"OK, why?"
The brunette almost rolled her eyes as she finally tuned back in to the conversation for good: couldn't the group leader at least try to sound interested in one of her potential future students?
"Because... my Mommy almost died..." (oh boy) "... her job is scary."
The little girl went on to explain that her mother already had to help so many people with their problems that she didn't want to worry her with her own, and the former 22-year-old could feel her heart melt a little at her sincere concern.
"... So I pretend to be okay."
... Yeah- no- that was not good. She may not have had actual memories of her own, but she did have knowledge of unhealthy coping mechanisms, and plenty of examples provided by fictional works of all kinds, to back her up (be they more or less reliable).
Before she could pitch in, the father spoke up:
"Well, welcome to the club of parental deceit, child-" she had to hurriedly cover her mouth lest she burst out in surprised laughter, "It's a lonely place, but- that's the price of being clever."
Was a father really supposed to say stuff like that?
After regaining her composure, she lightly coughed in her hand to get the girl's – Trixie, was it? – attention, as well as her father's, and leaned forward so that she could see the younger one better.
"If you don't mind me adding something Trixie," she started, trying to gather her thoughts despite the momentary distraction caused by hearing her own high-pitched voice again, "... from what you've said, I can only assume your mother works in the military or something in that same vein?" she waited for her nod and acknowledged the small-voiced admission that the woman in question was actually a cop, before continuing, "Then aside from the innate instinct mothers generally have about their children hiding something from them, I think your mom probably has even more chances of feeling that something is wrong – since it's basically her job to figure secrets out – but that, for some reason, you're not telling her..." Trixie's mouth opened in a small 'o', but she wasn't quite finished yet, "So, in the end... don't you think trying to keep this all to yourself has even more chances of worrying her than directly talking to her about it...?"
The little girl pressed her lips into a thin line, and the former 22-year-old could tell that she was at the very least thinking about what she'd said. So, satisfied for now, she leaned back and felt the father's gaze following her movements, but she avoided looking back in order to check, if only because she was certain a single glimpse at the man would be enough to make her mind swirl with a whole new bunch of theories once again – and she didn't need that at the moment.
"That was very... articulate, Annabelle. Now, does anyone-"
"Okay, now what?" she heard the father cut in, "How to control all that... juvenile angst-" she did snort here, unable to stop herself on time – which earned her a bewildered pause in the man's speech – "... usefully?" he continued.
A sort of comical gig followed his strangely-worded question, and by the time he seemed to get frustrated that emotions couldn't be channelled into actual energy – did he have unpaid electrical bills or what –, she was holding her sides, bent in half, quietly sniggering. It was progressively getting harder not to look at him, especially since all she could see was Madison's smile, slowly becoming stiffer in reaction to his words.
Then, after some totally inappropriate reference to nude drawing, he addressed the kid on her right who had been bowed over a piece of paper the entire time, and...
"No, this is a picture of my Mommy stabbing Debby."
If that couldn't make her lose it, nothing ever would.
"Pfft-HAHAHAHAHA!"
She could feel every eyes in the room converging on her in surprise, but mostly, she could feel her own eyes filling up with small tears of hilarity. There was no stopping her now – and frankly, after all the unexpected events thrown upon her lately, a good old fit of mad giggles felt too good to pass up, not to mention that she couldn't care less for her audience's opinions.
The father's skeptical question to his offspring regarding her state didn't help in the least:
"Are suspicions of murder such a common joke among your... kind...?"
She doubled over and began gasping for air – it was almost painful to laugh at that point, but she couldn't stop-
"-haha- my-" she gasped, "-my ri-hi-ibs-"
Aaaand a new wave of uncontrollable giggling assaulted her when she caught a glimpse of the man despite her best efforts, who was slowly edging as far away from her as possible on the small kiddie armchair, practically getting on his daughter's knees in order to escape-
"Lu-" "Ann."
Her breath caught in her throat.
It was as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been dumped on her head.
Even if it had come from behind, she immediately recognised one of the two voices that had spoken up at the same time.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Woops. Did the ma- her father think she was having a breakdown again?
The last remnants of her laughter had been completely snuffed out by his words, so after a calming inhale, she was about to stand up and explain the situation – unwilling to let him believe she had already broken their deal – when she abruptly realised that-
... her knees were shaking?
"I sincerely apologize for any inconvenience my daughter may have caused you and your group," her father addressed Madison as he walked deeper into the room, his steps muffled by the carpeted floor.
"Oh, not at all, she just-"
He gave the woman a wave of dismissal, shutting her up immediately, before focusing his stare on 'Ann' again, "I should have known the risk of her having an episode so soon after the last one was too high."
Oh so that's what they were calling it now? An 'episode'?
Unlike what she had planned, the words never left her mouth, stuck in her throat, and the former 22-year-old gulped, noticing how dry her tongue was.
What was happening to her?
"Annabelle. We're leaving." the voice, now father away, commanded, as her father turned to leave the room without waiting for her.
She nodded absentmindedly even though he probably couldn't see it, baffled by this new development – as if her body had obtained a mind of its own – but her knees were shaking so intensely that it took her forever to get up from her chair.
Which apparently didn't please her father too much.
"Annabelle."
An involuntary flinch confirmed her suspicions:
She- no, this body, feared that man.
The part of her that was twenty-two was annoyed by this, while also acknowledging that a little bit of parental fear couldn't hurt. But the part that was still 'Ann'... It didn't even want to do so much as look up and meet the older man's eyes.
... It seemed that, despite everything, this body really wasn't truly hers yet – or rather, even if Ann had lost almost the entirety of her conscious memories, her body itself hadn't.
"Don't drag this out." the man added, and there was an edge to his voice now, that she couldn't identify.
Wow. Rude much?
-was what she wanted to say, but once again, her mouth betrayed her by staying firmly closed.
Clearly, deeply ingrained reflexes weren't so easily ridden of, and the urge to avoid eye-contact and speaking up seemed to fit in that category.
That... could become problematic in the future.
She jumped at her father's sigh, still in a staring contest with the floor. She hadn't made much progress, and was situated just out of the circle of chairs, her back now to the small armchair and its occupant.
She couldn't remember moving.
"Ann," her father's voice had marginally softened – although it didn't sound any closer –, and her muscles loosened some at hearing it, "it's alright, you don't have to drag your feet, I'm not mad at you. We will come back some time later okay?"
Her tense shoulders immediately relaxed at that, immensely relieved that the deal wasn't off the table after all.
... What was she? Pavlov's dog?
Damn, she wished she could become this good at parenting some day; he definitely had the authority part down pat.
Ann's body still refused to look up however, so it was somewhat blindly that the brunette crossed the eerily quiet room and reached her father's side, using his shoes as a point of reference – and noticing a pair of heels on her way there which she could only presume belonged to the other person who'd spoken up earlier. Once she was close enough, she felt a large hand heavily drop on her shoulder, then beginning to stir her in the direction of the exit.
For some absurd reason, on the spur of the moment, she believed she could chance a furtive look upwards-
Her entire being froze.
In that instant, she truly was one with Ann.
The man had already been staring at her, so when her legs locked up, he immediately noticed it. Without a word, he crouched to her level, his hand still on her shoulder, then picked her up with no apparent effort, holding her under her knees and head over his shoulder.
In total opposition with the fact that he was basically carrying and hugging her at the same time, her body didn't relax in the slightest.
Then, as if to confirm her foreboding feelings, firmly gripping her much smaller body and trapping her arms against his chest, he whispered close to her ear, causing a shiver to shot up her spine:
"You're never getting out ever again."
The world stilled.
...
...
... what?
"You should know not to disobey me." he went on, tone emotionless, "Even more so in public. Disrespecting me... when I was even willing to humor you, since you showed initiative for once..."
His warm breath on her ear caused her entire body to jerk involuntarily.
W-what was this man saying...?
The strong hand pushing against her shoulder-blade so that she wouldn't move, squeezed even more firmly. Painfully.
"And I forbid you from uttering a single word until we're home."
... What the Hell was going on?
Hadn't he just said they would be back soon? What was that about never getting out again? How could he say such things so casually?
The other people in the room... Could no one see what was going on...? This wasn't normal, right? She wasn't just making things up, was she...?
But then... Why wasn't anyone doing anything?
Her eyes were wide-open, but she couldn't see the faces of the people in the room. The features and colors were blurring together, and it was only getting harder to distinguish anything as they became smaller and smaller the further the man holding her walked away.
Couldn't they hear how loud and fast her heart was beating? It was pulsing in her ears and throat, pounding in her skull...
Couldn't they hear?
Her breath hitched and she clamped her throat on a panicked sob.
Blessedly, it was then, with the small noise that resulted from that action, that her more logical side took over at last; after all, getting as scared as Ann's body already was, was sure to be counterproductive, and what use was an adult mind if not for taking over where a child couldn't deal with the situation?
Shit, she thought once she'd sufficiently gotten a hold of herself. Clearly, she'd miscalculated. She had underestimated- basically everything about Ann's dad. He'd seemed so... normal? if a bit strict, maybe, but, nothing like-... That couldn't possibly have just been parental authority, or at least it had nothing to do with what she remembered it being from her books. That was menacing and downright terrifying behavior.
Why on Earth was he so pissed!
But she couldn't ask. Ann's body was now so completely petrified, her jaw was locked; in addition to that, there was a persistent ringing in her ears that made it impossible to hear anything else.
... Could he do it though? Forbid her from leaving the house ever again? Was that allowed...? Was that even legal...?
Would he do it either way? Or had it been an empty threat? It certainly hadn't sounded like an empty threat...
The brunette blinked harshly, trying to clear her vision.
Shit- this man!... his face when she'd looked up... He was a ticking bomb! His mood had made a 180 degree turn compared to before he'd left her with the group... had she triggered him somehow?
How was she supposed to know?
The only thing she could tell for sure, was that it didn't bode well for a peaceful and safe new life at all.
Although...
Wouldn't staying in the house actually be safer than going outside and risking succumbing to a car accident or something of the like...?
No, she mentally berated herself. Staying locked up all the time in that house with this stranger and his spectacular temper, never being able to leave and not knowing what kind of anger issues she was going to have to deal with... she would go mental sooner rather than later.
And then would this new life even be worth living?
She swallowed the painful lump in the back of her throat.
What could she do? With Ann's terrified and young body, what could she possibly do?-
"Sir, just a word please?"
A crystal clear voice cut through the haze.
Underneath her, rigid muscles tensed even further and she supressed a whimper at how tight she was being held.
Then they relaxed.
Ann's father had stopped just before crossing the exit.
She felt his head turn in order to look over his shoulder, opposite to where her own head was, and her blurry vision improved some – just enough to see who had interrupted their retreat.
A few meters away from them, the woman she'd seen the shoes of was standing tall, facing them, Trixie huddled to her side.
... Per chance, was this Trixie's cop mom?
Moreover, she couldn't acutely distinguish her face from this distance, but seeing the two side by side... It seemed so familiar...
She mentally shook her head: now was really not the time for such things.
This was her chance-
"What is it?" Ann's father's cold voice cut through the silence.
Oi, would he mind being a little more polite to her savior?
"I'd like a word with your daughter if it's alright? She helped my own daughter," here she gestured at Trixie, who nodded a bit uneasily, gaze shifting from her face to her father's, "earlier, with a problem we've been having lately."
The former 22-year old blinked. She'd been here the entire time? Well, at least she didn't take wrongly to her talking so openly to her daughter-
"I doubt that..."
The muttered words close to her ear seemed to cut deeply in Ann's body memory, and she flinched violently in the arms still holding her.
A minute tightening of the arm on her back, served as a warning and a reminder.
Right. No talking.
... This was really starting to piss her off. What on Earth had Ann's father been doing to her, for the young eight-year-old to react in such violent ways to mere words?
In any case, the words had been uttered too softly for Trixie's mom to hear them, so she went on as if uninterrupted.
"I'd like to thank her-"
"Done," the man immediately replied, then went on to speak in her stead, "she really appreciates it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have urgent matters to take care of."
He abruptly started walking again, taking 'Ann' and probably everyone else by surprise, and she watched, dismayed, as they left the room and its occupants behind.
No, no-no-no-! She'd missed her opportunity!
Unbidden, despair began to seep in her bones.
Was that it...? Was she destined to live her new life miserable and in constant fear of her new lunatic family member?
... All alone with this very suspicious man...
Indeed!
... who has killed his wife and keeps her soulless body in the attic...
Most likely!
...
... Wait, what? ... F-for real?
Yup.
... What the Hell! She got that he had anger (and probably control) issues, but she didn't know he was a freaking murderer!
Where had this information even come from! Ann's remaining memories?
Why are you even here...? This isn't your world.
Exactly! Why was she here again?! She hadn't asked for any of this!
No, but like, seriously, how come you're here?
Well, she couldn't just find a reason out of nowhere, now could she!...
...
I see.
... Wait a minute... that wasn't her voice-
Well. Not like it should be too much of a problem. If you are ever in dire need of help – which you really kind of are right now if you want my opinion –, I strongly suggest you call out to Samael. He has enough free time as it is.
Wha-who-
That man doesn't just intend to lock you up in his house by the way, hence the immediate need for help if you catch my drift; he wants to make sure you will never leave... ever again.
Wait a minute, who was talking-
As in, he wants to kill you.
Yeah, she got the hint the first time! Thank you very much! But that wasn't-
You're welcome. Samael, don't forget.
Oh come on! What was going o-
"Ann, dear," her internal debate – conversation? – was interrupted by the emotionless voice of Ann's father, "you know you're precious to me..."
It sure didn't look like it, she deadpanned internally.
'You're precious to me'- 'You're precious to me'- 'You're-'
She couldn't get those words to stop repeating over and over in her head, and the more they rang, and rang and rang, like out-of-tune piano keys, the more she could suddenly feel-
-a fire, growing inside her.
"That's why I-"
Yeah. Not listening to whatever bull was going to follow that statement.
"-help..."
The back of her shirt was aggressively gripped.
"What did I tell you about not talking-"
She ignored him.
"-Help..."
-her voice was gaining in assurance, having finally overcome Ann's visceral fear-
"-HEL-hmm!"
Unfortunately, the man holding her was starting to understand that she was getting desperate, and had clutched the back of her head, before shoving it against his shoulder, muffling the scream she'd tried to let out with his heavy cloak in the way of her mouth.
A foolish move.
"You shut your goddamn trap, you fucking-"
She bit down. Hard.
Gasping, Ann's father grabbed her hair and forcefully yanked back in an effort to detach her jaw from his shoulder, but he hadn't anticipated that she would go willingly with the move, so he stumbled back- but sadly didn't entirely let go.
Even so, she took the momentary distraction for what it was, and used it to deeply inhale as much air as she could, before...
"SAMAEL!"
... releasing the most glorious holler she'd ever let out in her life (probably).
She wasn't able to see anyone coming, because she was immediately and harshly backhanded after that, but she didn't have the time to be shocked that he'd actually come to blows, and, for good measure, she continued to scream at the top of her lungs, both for help and for this 'Samael' that the voice in her head had mentioned.
It felt stupid, screaming that name that had emerged from seemingly nowhere in her mind, but...
She was desperate enough to try.
"Who bloody dares calling that na- What the-"
The former young adult didn't pay any heed to the blows landing on her, to the hairs being yanked from her small head, to the furious snarls, or even to the bruising force ensnaring her. Because all she could think of in that instant, was that-
Someone had come.
She didn't feel her lungs fighting to draw air in them, leaving her to desperately gasp as she tried to call for help still...
Just as she didn't feel her consciousness fading, before she eventually and definitely blacked out.
... to be continued...
OMAKE
22: I wonder where that voice came from... It was really helpful, surprisingly. That aside- that teacher was so boooring... (whines as if she was five)
Ann: Trixie seems nice though; her father is a bit silly too- nothing at all like mine...
22: Ah, I guess so... Are you sure you haven't met him before?
Ann: I don't know... I'm not really allowed to go out of the house.
22: Let's... just not talk about your assh- your dad anymore.
Ann: Okay?...
A/N: Yup. 22 made a mistake in thinking Ann's life was perfectly normal, but it's not like she could have recognized the signs; knowing about something you've read in a book and living it are two very different things after all.
Anyway, that's it for this chapter! I feel like the meeting with the cast members got overshadowed by all the drama, but PLOT shall not be stopped even by canon it seems...
Whether you hated it or loved it (or somewhere in-between), don't hesitate to mention it in the reviews! ;D