Author Notes - Something something not dead yet something something. This chapter was... a struggle, since this marks a major change in Marge's life. Let's just say that I take a life-changing event that happened to her, and move it forward quite a bit.

Just be glad I didn't go through with the original plan for this chapter to be followed by the one where Mona is forced to run away.

CHAPTER TWELVE - THE CYCLE OF ADDICTION

1961… They say that misery builds character, but is that really true? And if it is, did anyone ever say that it had to be good character building?

Every day, Marge waited for her father to get out of the hospital. Every day, Patty and Selma hoped that they wouldn't have another problem to deal with. Every day, Jacqueline prayed that her daughters wouldn't go without a father so soon. And, every day, the disappointment grew. It had been almost a year since he collapsed on the plane, and almost a year since Selma received damage that she was told had been permanent. Almost a year had passed, and neither situation had improved at all.

Then came the day that changed everything. Like most days with catastrophic endings, it began like any other ordinary day, so regular and unusual that one would never think that their entire life would change.

'PATTY! I KEEP TELLING YOU TO STAY AWAY FROM MY DOLLS!'

'WELL MAYBE IF THEY WERE BETTER BUILT, THEY WOULDN'T BREAK SO EASILY!'

'THEY'RE AREN'T EVEN YOURS TO PLAY WITH!'

'WE ONLY HAVE ENOUGH TOYS FOR ONE KID BETWEEN US! GIVE ME A BREAK!'

As Marge played with her own dolls - as in, Selma's old ones that had missing limbs or even a missing head in one case - she smiled as she heard her older sisters fighting with each other down the hallway. For the first couple of months since the 'incident', their fights had come to a crawl and they hardly argued at all. Hearing their fights again helped her get to sleep at night.

'Don't pin the blame on me! Ask our mom why she never bothered to buy us anything more!'

'My theory? I bet she wasn't even expecting to have YOU!'

'Oh, now that's just low-hanging fruit! Did you really just throw the 'unwanted child' routine at me?'

'Hey, you were born after me! I wouldn't be surprised if you just popped out of the blue!'

Most might be concerned when hearing such harsh arguments coming from their family members, but Marge wasn't worried at all. On the contrary, they typically just made her laugh, for she knew that they weren't actually all that angry at each other. Only when they didn't fight did she worry.

'They sure get really heated,' She said to the ragdoll in her arms. 'Don't they, Stacy? They've been reeeally bad since they started highschool.'

The young girl sighed blissfully at the thought. Imagine that: her own sisters, finally embarking into that wild world of highschool! Being so young, she could hardly remember when they were still in elementary school like she was now, and even their time in middle school was a blur to her. She could only imagine how happy they were to take this big step in their life.

'Maybe you should stop taking your anger out on me! Look, I get it. That assignment is just too difficult for someone of your intelligence.'

'LOOK AT MY HANDS! Do you think the teachers give a crap about teaching me?!'

Marge clutched her ragdoll like it was a baby, and waltzed into the hallway. The sounds of fighting got even louder as she approached their door, and that was just how she liked it. When she peeped in, she had to withhold a gasp. For the most part, it was just how she expected it to be - a blonde twin with her head in her palm like she was nursing a headache, and a redheaded twin stomping around the room in anger. But there was something that did not seem right.

Though difficult to see thanks to how much she was flailing them around, Patty's hands were practically red, even dark purple in some places. Marge cringed at the sight, feeling her own hands begin to hurt. Since Selma's hands were as fine as could be, Marge knew that something was horribly off. But what? Maybe she had just been starting some fist-fights again, but she never sustained that much damage from a fisticuffs. She wasn't much of a daredevil either. The young girl had no idea what could've caused it, and didn't feel like stepping into a twin fight.

Selma sighed. 'Maybe if you just behaved, you wouldn't-!'

'I'll behave once they scrap that stupid handwriting class!' Patty yelled, her face nearly turning as red as her hands.

'Maybe we should leave…' Marge whispered to her ragdoll. 'Maybe Momma would like to play!'

She held 'Stacy' close to her chest and stepped away from the twins' room, still able to hear their shouting even as she made her way down the stairs. They began yelling over each other, though, so she couldn't understand their words anymore. She couldn't find her mother in the living room, and so checked for her in the kitchen.

As soon as she stepped into the room, she gasped. Jacqueline sat at the table with her face buried deep into her hands, making quiet weeping sounds that Marge could barely hear. The new phone wasn't on its receiver, and instead hung from the kitchen counter.

'M-Momma?' The young girl said, almost weeping herself as she approached her mother.

Jacqueline flinched and launched into an upright position, and her heart sank when she saw her youngest daughter looking up at her. Little Margie got her hazel eyes from her father, except hers had an air of innocence and preciousness to them. Well, usually. In moments like this, they were the eyes of a frightened puppy.

'Oh, M-Marge…' Jacqueline said, trying to keep herself together.

'What's wrong, Momma?' Marge asked, holding onto her doll even tighter.

As Jacqueline looked into her daughter's eyes, she realised that she had hit a major crossroads. Should she tell Marge the truth, or give her a gentle lie? After many moments of silence went by, she leaned back in her chair with a sigh.

'Get your sisters.' She said. 'We're going to visit Daddy in the hospital.'

Now, Marge may have been young, but she knew that while the words were nice, that tone definitely was not. Her eyes sparkled under the kitchen light as she thought about this request.

'W-Why?' She asked.

'Don't ask questions.' Jacqueline replied. 'Just tell your sisters that we're going to the hospital, and to get ready.'

Marge wanted to ask more questions, but since her mother told her not to, she didn't and just walked back up the stairs. She couldn't imagine what could've been so bad that Momma refused to talk about it, but she wasn't one to disobey her own parents, so she walked up to her sisters' room while they were still knee deep into an argument.

'Why do you just accept your lot in life?!' Patty yelled. 'I know you agree with me when I say that school is dumb, but you just watch as my hands get smacked and do nothing! Don't you want to see stuff get better?'

'Don't act like you're doing this to make anything better.' Selma retorted. 'You just like annoying people.'

'Yeah, but it's fun.'

The youngest sister took a deep breath and waltzed into their room. She hadn't been noticed quite yet, if Patty throwing one of the dolls across the room was any indication. It almost hit Selma in the face, but she managed to duck in time and it just hit the wall instead.

'Can you throw anything else but my dolls?' She asked, putting her hands on her hips.

'I could,' Patty replied. 'But where's the fun in that?'

The blonde twin clenched her fists. 'Oh, when I get my hands on you, I'll - oh, Marge!'

Only then did the twins realise that their younger sister stood in the room. Patty rolled her eyes and groaned, but Selma approached the little girl instead. That look in her eyes was rare, but whenever it could be seen it was a sign of terrible things to come.

'What's she doing here?' Patty demanded, taking a seat on her bed.

'Momma wanted me to get you.' Marge replied, her voice trembling just a little. 'She didn't tell me why, but she wanted to see you.'

Patty groaned again. 'Look, whatever she's accusing me of, I swear I didn't do it! Unless it's my homework. In which case, I definitely did do it.'

'I just told you, I don't know what.'

'And since when does she call us both when you did something stupid?' Selma remarked.

'Twin privilege?' Patty replied, before she groaned for a third time. 'Fine! We'll go see Mom. But only because we're not doing anything else right now.'

Marge wanted to lead them down to the kitchen, but Patty shoved her aside before they even made it to the stairs. Selma followed their youngest sister, however, and so made it to the kitchen in not even a minute. Patty, on the other hand, had checked just about every other room in the house before she finally made it to the right room, and she would've knocked Selma's smirk off her face with a fist if her mother wasn't in the same room.

'What's wrong, Mom?' Selma asked. 'It seems… serious.'

'It'd better be serious.' Patty said. 'Or you owe me five minutes of my life.'

Jacqueline sighed. 'We're going to the hospital to visit your father.'

All at once, the three Bouvier daughters understood the situation. Their hearts sank almost at the same time, and Selma immediately picked up Marge and held her as close as possible. Alas, Marge was beginning to get a little too big for the teenager to carry, but Selma didn't care. Patty, as per the usual, kept up a brave and irritated face, though her shaky fists betrayed whatever tough image she was trying to upkeep.

'I-Is Daddy okay?' Marge asked, as the only one brave enough to speak.

'We're going to the hospital to visit him.' Jacqueline repeated, avoiding the question seemingly on purpose. 'So we can have a nice long talk with him.'

'I-I don't like the way you're saying this.' Selma said. 'This is way too calm.'

'What the hell is going on?!' Patty demanded, breaking her exterior personality for a moment.

'If you've had anything you've wanted to say to your father,' Jacqueline said. 'I suggest you say it to him when we get there.'

The twins gasped. Selma's grip on Marge tightened, like the young girl was just a teddy bear, while Patty grabbed onto her twin's shoulder and leaned in close. Marge didn't quite understand their reactions, but she knew that things were bad when Patty dared to get close to anyone in her family.

'Get ready.' Jacqueline said. 'We leave in five minutes.'

All four female members of the Bouvier household hadn't muttered a single word as they made their way to the hospital. For most of them, the situation left them with no words to say. For little Marge, she wanted to ask why everyone was so sad and quiet, but chose to stay silent for the sake of her sisters and mother. Still not a single word was said as they walked down the hallway to their father's room. Patty kept herself distanced away from the others, while Selma stayed so close to Marge that both of her hands were on her shoulders.

'Say whatever you want.' Jacqueline said, her voice even hoarser than usual. 'Your father won't care. Just make sure that your last words are good ones.'

'Why?' Marge asked.

'Just… just make sure you end on a good note, okay?'

Marge could feel Selma squeezing her shoulders, in the same way Marge would squeeze her doll whenever she got stressed. She wanted to make her big sisters feel better, but she stayed quiet because she had no idea how to do it.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally arrived at Clancy's room. The nurses and doctors had left without anything but a nod of their head, not saying even a single word. Jacqueline took her daughters inside, dreading the way they would react to their father's state.

'AAHHHH!'

She certainly didn't anticipate that Marge would scream. The maternal instinct inside Selma kicked in, and she picked up her little sister like there was a nasty little dog about to bite her. The middle child found herself staring in shock, while Patty turned herself around and pretended she was more interested in the weird pictures on the wall.

Marge could hardly recognise her father now. His skin had gone so pale that he looked like a vampire, and she could see so many more bones that she couldn't see before. His breathing was laboured, and he couldn't get very far without coughing harsher than she had ever heard. He had lost a lot of hair, and his eyes appeared to be sunken in. The most appropriate way to describe him that Marge could think of was that he looked like a zombie. But not the kind of zombie that tried eating people, but the kind that knew they were undead monsters and desperately wanted someone to kill them.

Perhaps she really was too young for the stuff that Patty liked.

'Hey… darlings…' Clancy greeted, speaking as if every single syllable pained him to say.

Jacqueline stepped aside and seated herself down on a chair against the wall, allowing her daughters to do whatever they wanted. For a long moment, none of them moved. Selma and Marge could only stare like they had seen hell itself, while Patty couldn't even dare to do that. After just a few seconds, however, Selma placed Marge down on the floor as gently as she could and ran over to her father. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his ailing body and hugged him tight, as if she hoped that it would undo the inevitable.

Clancy, with what little strength he had remaining, placed his hand upon her shoulder as she quickly devolved into crying onto his.

'There, there, my sweetie.' He said, coughing in between words. 'Let it alllll out. You always were the more emotional one.'

'Oh, s-shut up.'

'I never said… that was a bad thing… It's good, ya know… to be emotional sometimes…'

'N-Not right now, it is.' She choked. 'Oh, t-this could be the last time we ever see each other, a-and I'm just a complete mess…'

Her father looked her right in the eye, using his hand to make her face him. 'Anyone would be. There's nothing wrong with that. It means you really do care, and I hope you never forget it. I mixed you and your twin up a lot ever since you were born, so let me make up for it now… Selma.'

Selma found out the hard way that she was keeping most of her tears inside, for her father's words unleashed them all at once. Now a sobbing mess, she buried her face into her father's bony chest and cried more than she had across her entire life. Clancy, though it hurt to have his arm up for any more than a moment, placed his hand upon her back. There wasn't much heat left to give her, but he gave her whatever he had left.

'W-Why does this have to happen, Dad?' Selma asked, only able to do so after at least a minute of letting out her emotions.

'Because.' Clancy replied. 'And that's it. Because.'

'T-There's gotta be a better answer than that…'

'There really isn't, darling. And we just have to put up with it.'

Marge may have been yet to grasp the full ramifications of the situation, but she could tell with ease when someone she loved was upset. The sight and sounds of Selma breaking down broke her little heart, and it only took a moment for her to embrace her big sister as tight as her small arms could manage. Her eyes began to sting, but she didn't care about that - her sisters would always be more important.

'I-I was always so annoyed whenever you confused me with Patty,' Selma said, still crying her eyes out. 'B-But if I knew this would happen, I-I never would've been annoyed at all.'

'Now, now, no need to say that.' Clancy said. 'How would you know? Perhaps if I knew this would happen, I would've tried harder to tell you two apart. But, why worry about things we can't change?'

'S-Surely there was something we could've done to stop this from happening!'

'I would surely hope there wasn't! Then that would mean we could've avoided this. And wouldn't that be an awful thought?'

'I-I suppose you're right.'

Only then did Selma realise that Marge had embraced her legs and hips, and decided then and there that her little sister deserved to be a part of this. She held onto Marge and hoisted her up into her arms, still struggling to carry her but refusing to put her down. Marge buried herself as deeply into Selma's chest as she could possibly go; the sight of her father frightened her, but she didn't dare look away. After all, the rest of her family made a big deal out of 'never seeing him again', and while she didn't understand why, she didn't want to look away if this would be their last ever meeting.

'Aw, how's my little Margie going?' Clancy asked, placing his hand on her cheek.

She grabbed onto his hand, trembling a little from how bony it felt. 'I-Is Daddy going to be alright?'

He sighed. 'No, dear. I'm afraid I won't be.'

'Did you have to say that?!' Selma cried.

'And let her be disappointed? I don't like hiding the truth from my own daughters.'

For just a moment, his eyes darted over to Patty. She hadn't moved from her spot, still facing away from him and at the wall instead. Knowing her as well as he did, the reason for it was clear as day to him - if she didn't show anyone her face, no one had to see her crying. He didn't tell her that it wasn't working, since he could still easily hear her quiet sobbing, for he didn't want to make her feel any worse.

'W-What will I do without you?' Marge asked.

Clancy chuckled. 'You? You'll be just fine. You're so young, but you've already made me so proud. Remember when you went up against that mean old lady? It takes a lot of guts to do something like that. Not to mention a sweet little heart. And you'll never be alone. Your mother and sisters will always be there for you.'

'W-What about Selma?'

The blonde twin's heart couldn't take any more. She held onto Marge even tighter than before, hardly able to handle that the young girl cared more about her sisters than herself.

'Oh, she'll be fine too.' Clancy said. 'She's sandwiched between you and Patty, isn't she? If she can take getting hit in the face with that water rocket so well, I think she'll be just fine. And I know she's got quite the heart herself. Perhaps not as good as yours, but it's still pretty damn good.'

Selma managed a smile through the pain and heartbreak, and put Marge aside on the bed so she could lean in closer and get her fragile father a hug. She had to be extra careful not to hurt him, so she could hug him quite as tight as she wanted, but she could feel his heart beating against her chest. It beat like a machine low on fuel, pumping out what little energy it had left in a struggle.

She knew, just from the hug, that he didn't have much left. And that thought got her crying again. Marge's own heart pained to see it, and she wanted - so badly - to do something about it. But what could she do? The realisation that she couldn't do a thing to make Selma feel better just hurt her heart a little more.

'Oh, Dad…' Selma murmured, her voice choking and cracking. 'I-I can't…'

Clancy shook his head. 'Hey, let's not make this meeting so depressing, okay? Let's talk about, I dunno, unicorns or something.'

Selma chuckled. 'Dad, I'm fourteen, not three.'

He feigned a gasp. 'Wait, you are? Oh, you grew up so fast! It seemed like only yesterday that I held a tiny screaming blonde baby in my arms. Or was that the redheaded one?'

'It was definitely the red-headed one. I would never act like that.'

'You sure? Because the kid who came out second was quite the little screamer.'

'Hey!'

Marge giggled, delighted to hear her sister yelling once again, and her wonderful laughter helped both Selma and Clancy to forget - just for a moment - how horrible the situation really was. That was just the way Clancy wanted it to be; no need to waste what could have potentially been the last time he would ever see his amazing daughters.

Time drifted away from the younger sisters and their father. They conversed about seemingly everything - school, dolls, movies, even unicorns - but the situation at hand. The hours went by like minutes, to them at least. Patty remained by the wall, hardly moving an inch the entire time, and she suffered through the time that appeared to drag. Jacqueline joined in on the conversation a few times, but could not draw her attention away from her eldest daughter.

Before anyone knew it, the sun had begun to sink below the horizon. No one noticed, for they were too busy engaging in their little discussion. Now, it was about the newest Disney movie that the girls had gone to see in the theatres when it premiered a few months prior.

'I still can't believe Disney, of all companies, would have a villain so outrageous!' Selma exclaimed, back to holding Marge in her arms. 'Wanting to skin puppies was horrible enough, but she was so insane that she drove like mad with no regard for her own safety!'

'Well,' Clancy said. 'What do you expect from someone whose name sounds a lot like 'cruel devil'?'

'Wait, her name…' She gasped. 'Oh my god, so that's why Cruella De Vil sounded like such a weird name!'

'Were the poor little puppies cute?'

'Well, Marge thought they were, but they weren't so interesting to me. How could I focus on the doggies when the movie had a woman so unhinged and-?'

The conversation came to an abrupt stop, when the quiet voice from the youngest child interrupted them.

'Goodnight, Daddy…'

Selma looked down to find that the young girl in her arms, exhausted after a long day of stress and lovely conversation, had fallen asleep. Marge had her head buried deep into Selma's chest, with one of her arms limping over her older sister's shoulder. Clancy, refusing to make the scene even more emotional for his daughters, tried his hardest not to cry.

'Goodnight, Marge…' He murmured, placing his hand on her shoulder one last time.

Jacqueline stood out of her chair, and walked over to her younger daughters. 'Looks like it's time for us to leave. We don't want Margie to lose out on her bedtime, do we?'

'No, we don't.' Selma replied, before turning back to her father. 'Goodbye, Dad. I hope you go somewhere wonderful.'

'Don't worry too much about me.' Clancy said. 'Worry about yourself, and little Margie. But, allow me to say… goodbye, Selma.'

Selma held onto Marge as tight as she could, not just to keep her safe but to keep her own emotions in check. After such a lovely goodbye, she didn't want to burst into tears once again; she could always do that at home anyway. So, she carried Marge away and towards the door. On her way there, she passed by her redheaded twin and frowned.

'What about Patty?' She asked.

Jacqueline sighed. 'If she doesn't want to talk to her father, then we can't make her. But, just in case… I want you to take Marge and wait for me in the waiting room. Knowing Patty, I fear what she'll do.'

After several seconds, Selma nodded. 'Alright.'

The blonde twin quietly left the room with her little sister in tow, leaving her twin alone in the hospital room. Once Jacqueline was sure they were out of earshot, she approached her oldest daughter.

'Patty,' She said. 'We have to leave.'

'No.' Was the near-silent reply.

Jacqueline did a double-take. 'Excuse me?'

'NO!'

Patty shouted as she spun around to glare right at her mother. Jacqueline gasped and took a step back. The young girl's eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and tears and mucus flowed down her face uninterrupted. She breathed heavily through her gritted teeth, and her fists were clenched so tightly that her knuckles were beginning to turn white.

'I'm not leaving Dad!' She screamed.

It took a few moments for Jacqueline to get her words back. 'P-Patricia? Are you-?'

'If Dad's gonna die, then I'm not leaving his side!'

'Patricia, that's-'

Patty pushed her mother aside and ran for her father. Moving quickly she knelt by his side and grabbed onto his arm, doing so with movement so swift that she banged her shoulder against the metal bars of the bed. It hurt like hell, but she didn't care. Through her teary eyes she glared at her mother, holding onto her father tight like a mother bear defends her young.

'Patricia, this is completely out of line!' Jacqueline yelled. We are heading home, and that's-!'

'Don't.' Clancy said, interrupting her. 'Let Patricia stay. If she wants to stay until I have to say goodbye, then let her. You know what she's like when she gets angry. Let her stay.'

Jacqueline's expression softened, and she sighed. 'Alright. She can stay. There's just one thing I want to do before I leave.'

Making sure not to disturb Patty as she did so, Jacqueline leaned in and gave her husband a long but soft kiss on the lips. She only stepped away once she was certain that her final kiss was long enough.

'Goodbye, Clancy.'

Despite everything, Clancy smiled. 'Goodbye, Jackie. I hope someone else can give you a happy ending.'

Jacqueline chuckled. 'That's not gonna happen. I already found my happy ending.'

Once Selma had finally reached her home, she went to tuck Marge into her own bed. When she went into the younger sister's room, however, she found herself unable to release her from her grasp. So, she kept hold of her like Marge was a little teddy bear, even though Selma's arms were already beginning to ache from carrying her for so long.

Selma herself felt exhausted after dealing with everything, and so retreated to her bedroom with Marge in her arms. So late at night, everything seemed a little too quiet. She peered over at the empty bed with the 'P' engraved in its head, feeling just that little bit more lonely. The temptation to wake Marge up was strong, but when she looked down to the little girl sleeping so happily and peacefully, she laid that temptation to rest.

'You lucky girl…' She muttered. 'Too young to understand what's really going on.' She groaned. 'Oh, who am I kidding? You get it. You're just… not as aware as we are. And, as weird as it sounds, I kinda envy that. Life was more fun when I was younger. Sure, I fought with Patty a whole lot, but that was normal. Then middle school happened, and now…'

Seeing as she wasn't going to be letting Marge out of her hands, she got into her bed with her little sister still in her arms. Her daywear remained on, since changing her outfit would require free hands, and she kept Marge very close to her body. Somehow, the little one had remained asleep through all of this. It must've been a dreadfully exhausting day for her.

'I-I don't know what I'm going to do without Dad around…' Selma murmured, beginning to tear up once again. 'H-He looked so frail in that hospital bed, a-and his heart felt like it wanted to give up. I want to believe that Dad has a chance to recover, but… I-I don't think he does…'

The exhaustion she felt was simply unbearable, but her body refused to shut down and go to sleep for reasons she didn't understand. Only when she held Marge close to her chest and knew she was safe was she able to finally drift off to sleep.

'You'll be fine, Marge…' She said, right before drifting off completely. 'I'll always be here for you.'

Patty didn't wake up until well into the morning. It hadn't taken long for her and her father to fall asleep, even though she tried as hard as she could to stay up all night. She had witnessed her father closing his eyes too many times, and she wanted to make sure that she had caught the final time. Since the hospital staff decided to leave her alone, she stayed asleep far longer than she normally would.

When her eyes slowly opened and her vision stopped being blurry, she noticed her surroundings. She found herself leaning up against the side of the bed, in a horribly uncomfortable position with her cheek up against a metal bar. Clearly, she was only able to fall asleep because she was just that damn tired. Something rested in her grasp - her father's arm. It felt just a little colder than it did the night before.

She gasped. 'Oh my god… Dad!'

The teenaged girl clambered to her feet as quickly as she could, and looked into her father's face immediately. His eyes were closed and he smiled, but she couldn't hear any breath coming out of him.

'Oh no… oh god no, please no…'

All she could do was stare at his lifeless face, waiting for him to wake up and greet her the same way he did every morning before he collapsed on that plane. Just to make sure, she placed her head upon his chest and waited for the sound or feeling of his heart.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

'No… no! Dad!'

Everything hit her at once. Now, with no one around to see her, all she could do was cry.

'Mrs Bouvier, we have some terrible news regarding your husband. He… he did not make it through the night. Your daughter Patricia appears to be quite upset as well.'

Jacqueline was just a little grateful that Patty chose to stay the night at the hospital, for it gave her plenty of time to respond to her husband's death. By the time she had driven to the hospital, she had already cried herself out. As she drove her daughter back home, she allowed Patty to let it all out in the backseat. Hearing the inelegant sobbing of her daughter gave Jacqueline the urge to slam her fist through the window. Why on earth her daughters had to go through something like this was a question that no one, no matter how smart, could answer.

Because there was no answer.

'I… I haven't given your sisters the news yet.' Jacqueline said. 'But I'm sure that they already know. Even Marge must've realised what happened when I refused to say anything.'

'And I'm supposed to care why?!' Patty shouted back.

Jacqueline almost scolded her for yelling, but managed to stop herself. 'The point is, you are not alone. We're all taking this loss hard. And it's perfectly normal. If anyone tries to tell you anything about being 'hysterical' or anything like that, kick their teeth in. … Oh, I don't need to tell you that. You'd kick their teeth in regardless of what I told you.'

She made sure to keep the drive back home nice and slow, to make sure that her 'tough' daughter could let most of it out before they returned to the rest of the remaining family. As she parked the car, she hadn't expected to see her other daughters already waiting for them on the doorstep. Unsurprisingly, Selma still had Marge tucked up into her arms. The little one hadn't taken the news well at all, crying into her big sister. The older sister, on the other hand, looked as though she hadn't cried a single tear since that morning. When Jacqueline got closer, however, she noticed the sunlight reflecting off Selma's eyes. The both of them remained silent and let their mother walk by them to open the door, but Jacqueline realised that a certain someone hadn't followed her.

The eldest of the three daughters remained in the backseat of the car, perhaps to let out the rest of it before looking at her sisters again. Except, as she slowly began to realise, there was simply too much and there was no way she could get it out so quickly. So, the moment she opened the door she dashed past her sisters and pushed her mother aside to run back to her room as quickly as possible.

The loud THUD of the bedroom door slamming shut could be heard even from the doorstep.

'W-We're not gonna see her again for a while.' Selma said, her voice sounding as if she could just barely take in a breath.

'Listen,' Jacqueline said. 'Do you want me to take care of Marge for a bit? I don't know if trying to take care of her yourself is such a good idea.'

'I can't let you take her. She needs me right now. And… and I need her.'

Jacqueline sighed. 'I… I understand. But don't forget that you've got more than one sister.'

You'd hope that grief-stricken teenagers would be allowed days off school, but Springfield Middle School wasn't so fond of that idea. While Marge was allowed to stay home with her mother to deal with it, the higher grades were never so fair to their students. So, the twins had to go to middle school regardless of what they wanted. Grief and school never quite got along.

'DON'T TOUCH MY PEN, YOU ANNOYING SACK OF-!'

Perhaps the teacher should have realised something was off when Selma was the one getting angry for seemingly no reason, but that would require the teachers to be well-educated on children's emotions. As it was, such behaviour led to only one thing in middle school.

*WHACK*

A 'good' old caning.

'I can't believe these stupid, goddamn teachers! How the hell do they expect me to react?!'

Patty, whose streak of 'teacher hate' taught her all the best places to hide from authority, had taken her sister and herself to one of the spots where the more 'rough' students went during the lunch break. The teachers never cared to check around near the dirty supply shed, seeing as it was on the edge of school grounds and the moss-infested brickwork wasn't exactly most people's definition of a nice place to eat. There weren't many other students there, but the small group could easily be identified by one thing - the heavy scent of smoke.

And now, away from the teachers, Selma could rant all she wanted without risk of joining her sister's rank of 'reddest hands in the classroom'.

'Don't they give a crap about what we're going through?!' She screamed at her twin, before she threw up her arms and groaned in exasperation.

Patty grinned. 'Welcome to the side of the rebels, sis.'

'Don't make stupid jokes about it! I'm not in the mood!'

The redhead flinched. 'Wow… is this how I sound when I get angry at people? Cos I think I like it.'

'Oh, you are hopeless!'

She leaned up against the grody wall and buried her face in her hands, growling to herself and thankful that she had already cried herself out the day before. Patty rolled her eyes, and suddenly her attention snapped to the small group of kids nearby. They hardly gave the twins even a cursory glance, but she could hear snickers escaping from their mouths.

'HEY!' She yelled while glaring right at them. 'Only a couple of days ago, we lost our father, and my sister is still really upset about it. If you wanna laugh at her, you're gonna need to mess with me!'

The group of kids shut up immediately, and most of them stepped away and kept their glances well away from the redhead. Only one kid didn't leave - a girl roughly the same age as them, known for having decent grades for someone who clearly didn't care that much about school. The cigarette that she always had in her hand when 'out-of-bounds' was the primary cause of that smoky odour.

'Wow, uh, okay.' The girl said. 'I wasn't expecting something like that.'

'Well, that's our story.' Patty said. 'So either do something that actually helps, or just leave us the hell alone.'

The girl smiled. 'If it's stress you're struggling with, have I got the solution for you.'

'If it's the same treatment the doctors recommended, then no.'

'What? No, it's nothing like that. Let me introduce you to what my friends and I have nicknamed the 'Miracle Stick'. It is a bit much, but we think it's funny.'

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a couple of 'miracle sticks'. It took Patty less than a second to recognise them as cigarettes, not unlike the ones her father smoked every single day so often that the entire house smelled just like them.

'Good one.' She deadpanned. 'To help us deal with our father's death, you're giving us something that reminds me of him.'

'So you're familiar with these,' The girl said. 'But you haven't tried one before?'

'Oh, I've tried. I've tried a lot of times. But I have a little sister who always seems to find out about this sort of thing before I can take even a single breath, and she didn't like it very much.'

'What about Blondie over there?'

Selma gave a glare quite similar to her twin's. 'Okay, first of all, I have a name. You can call me 'Selma', alright? Second of all, those 'miracle sticks' give me a bad feeling and I don't like it.'

The girl chuckled. 'Oh come on. Isn't the smell inciting?'

'It might be, but I lost my sense of smell a good year ago now. So, I'll never know. What a shame.'

The girl - who is being referred to as such since neither Patty nor Selma cared what her name was - didn't appreciate the awkwardness that her own question had caused, so she just handed them her 'miracle sticks' without another word. Patty swiped the stick out of her hand with a glare, and as she approached Selma the girl just so happened to take in a deep breath of her cigarette and blow out a whole heap of smoke that so happened to end up in Selma's face.

Just like it was a few years ago, the concentrated smoke must've been too much for her body to handle, and she sneezed with the force - and volume - of a hurricane. It was sudden enough to make the Girl almost drop her own cigarette.

'Goodness!' She exclaimed. 'Could've warned me.'

'Oh, sor-ree.' Selma remarked. 'It isn't my fault that smoke is irritating as hell.'

'No need to worry about that. Believe me, you get used to it in no time. And they melt away stress like nothing! I'll even light the baby for you.'

Selma wanted to object further, but before she knew it not only was the cigarette in her hand lit, but Patty was already smoking hers. The redheaded teenager coughed heavily for a few seconds, but put the stick back in her mouth as soon as the coughing fit was over and took another breath.

'What's it like?' Selma asked, her tone indicating that she really didn't care that much about the answer.

'Absolutely horrible.' Patty replied. 'My throat feels like it's tightening, and I've tasted better corpses than this. And I want more of it. Now.' She took yet another breath.

The Girl grinned. 'That means it's working!'

The blonde twin still wasn't entirely sure that these 'miracle sticks' could do a thing, but all that talk about them 'melting away stress like nothing' encouraged her to take a breath. For once, thankful that she couldn't taste anymore if Patty's 'worse than corpses' comment was anything to go by, she popped the cigarette into her mouth and took a deep breath.

The moment that nasty smoke infested her lungs, she coughed up a storm. She could feel her lungs fighting against it, screaming at her to stop immediately. But, as much as she wanted to obey them, her brain demanded another breath. So, she went for it, and her brain lit up as those chemicals reached it. It begged for another breath, so she went again. And again. And again.

'Dad's probably still got a few of these left.' Patty said, choking back the tears upon mentioning her father again. 'They'll last us both a while. But where the hell do we get more of these amazingly awful things?'

'You can buy 'em, you know.' The Girl said. 'Worst case scenario, my friends and I are willing to lend.'

'That would be great.'

In mere moments, it seemed, Selma had already reached the end of her stick. If it weren't for the class bell that went off soon after - indicating that they were late to class enough as it was - she would've asked for another one immediately.

Author Notes - Jesus christ, reading through this again got me surprisingly emotional. I kinda forgot how brutal I made this chapter at points. I hope that carries over to my readers, because that's kind of the point. It is part of the reason why it took me a while to publish this chapter, though.

The good news is, other than the inevitable chapter where Mona has to run away (which I am not looking forward to writing), this should be the most brutal part of the story. If you could get through this one, you'll be good to go for the rest of the story.