My Reason to Be

Several days have passed since her father had left that note on her door and the message on her phone, yet she had not seen or heard from him since. It put her on edge, leaving her jittery and tense even as she tried to ease her concerns and to think positively about the situation. She should be relieved that he hadn't shown up, she knew that, but it made her wonder why he was waiting. Her father wasn't a patient man—at least not from what she remembered. When she'd disobeyed an order from him, the backlash was nearly instantaneous.

Now, buried beneath the heavy blankets atop her bed, Iris was not sleeping fitfully. Her knees were drawn up to her chest protectively, her muscles twitching and convulsing in her sleep as her eyes shifted beneath closed lids. Her lips did not form words, but faint whines and gasps of distress disrupted the silence of her small studio apartment. The faint buzz of her small heater was barely enough to cover the noises, quiet as they were, and left her to continue dreaming.

The nightmarish appearance of her parents, shouting incoherently as they towered over her like demonic giants, caused her to crawl backward into the darkest corner she could find. Her arm was hot with blood, the skin cut clean where her soulmark had once been. Her flesh was cut open, clean to the bone, and poured hot red blood as Iris desperately tried to pull the wound close, to seal her skin once more.

Her mark. They had ruined it.

Sobbing with her efforts, she wasn't aware enough before the knife was gliding across her skin again, this time at her right thigh, destroying another mark as her skin parted like silk beneath the knife. Throwing her head back with a shriek of pain, she no longer had anywhere left to move as the corner she had chosen for refuge closed in on her.

Sharp, strong knocking started at her door, waking her with a strangled gasp as Iris jerked into a half-sitting position. Her kitchen light was still on, giving her usually dark apartment enough light that she had been able to fall asleep in the first place. Her skin was hot and covered in a thin layer of sweat, leaving her hair to stick to her forehead and neck as she desperately clawed at her duvet as though scrambling for something to defend herself.

When the knocking at her door sounded again, Iris was able to bring herself into consciousness enough to realize that she was not huddled in a corner. Nor was she coated in a layer of her own blood, hot and sticky as it had poured from her split skin like a never-ending flood. She was in her dim apartment, sitting in sweat-soaked clothes as someone knocked at her door with sturdy knuckles.

Realizing through a fear and sleep addled mind that she had been having a terribly vivid nightmare, Iris jolted at the thought that she may have woken one of her neighbours. Choking back a sound of distress, the woman rolled from her bed and moved to her door as the knocking ceased for a moment. She didn't even think to look through the peep-hole as she slid the locks aside and pulled open the door with a stuttered apology on the tip of her tongue.

However, the words died away when she glanced up to meet familiar blue eyes, rimmed red and filled with fear as they looked down at her. Who stood before her, she did not know, but the sight of Kevin Cumb's body and whichever identity was presently in control caused a broken sob to wrack her chest as her tense shoulders dropped in relief and despair.

The fear in those blue eyes abated, but it was replaced with utmost concern as she was pulled into a tight embrace and silently ushered back into her apartment, letting her door close them inside and away from the prying eyes and ears of her woken neighbours. Her soulmate, wearing a thrown together outfit of black sleep pants, a pair of shoes and a soft maroon shirt that she knew was much too thin for the weather outside, had never looked more welcoming as she melted into their embrace.

"Sh, sh, shh, quiet now," a soft British accent cooed to her gently, guiding them to sit on the edge of her bed as one hand stroked through her nightmare-knotted hair. Iris could do barely more than hiccup harshly, eyes opening in surprise as the familiar, comforting words were finally whispered to her. "It's alright, little one, I'm here."

The tone, the words, the softness in which those words were spoken; this was a woman. A new soulmate had rushed over to her because she had been having a nightmare; the very soulmate whose mark had provided her with so much strength and courage; so much comfort when she was in her darkest times. She continued to shush Iris gently, pulling her in close as she rocked her from side to side as she carefully ran her fingers through her hair. With her cheek resting on her soulmate's shoulder, nose directed in toward her neck, Iris took in a shuddering breath as she fought to stop her sobs.

The smell was feminine and calming, like gentle perfume and home cooking.

Continuing to breathe in this new smell, Iris's sobs gradually eased as the knots were slowly pulled from her hair, the gentle voice in her ear never quieting with soothing words and calming hushes. "That's it, dear, deep breaths." She moved to pull back from Iris, lips parted to speak again, but the smaller of the two panicked as she felt her soulmate leaving her.

"Don't go," Iris gasped out desperately, sounding broken even to her own ears, "please, don't go!" Her hand snagged the shirt her soulmate wore, clinging to it desperately as she burrowed her face into a familiar neck, inhaling the new and comforting smell that rose from her skin.

Her soulmate sighed softly, sounding sad, as the arm around her shoulders tightened and the hand carding through her hair stopped to cradle the back of her skull and hold her close. "No need to worry, little one, I won't be going anywhere." She still trembled with the power of her ragged breaths, but Iris gradually relaxed into her soulmates comforting embrace.

"I'm sorry," Iris rasped out through raw vocal cords. She'd kept them awake again, and this time she'd been asleep when it had been happening. Her nightmare had been so real, so terrifying for her unconscious mind, that her soulmates felt it. "I never give you any peace."

"Oh, dear, don't think like that," she soothed, gently tipping Iris's head up so she could look into the soft, whiskey eyes that she had heard so much about from the others. They truly were a beautiful colour, but it was heartbreaking to see how glassy they were with tears, rimmed red and surrounded by bruised skin from lack of sleep. "When Kevin was young, we swore that we would protect him so that he, just like you, would not have to wake from fear in the middle of the night. Iris, you have our protection, as well."

Wrapping both arms around the thin woman, she tucked Iris's head beneath her chin and sighed softly when she felt that Iris was barely shaking now that her sobs have subsided.

"You, little one, have twenty-three people ready to do anything for you. You need only ask."

Taking a deep breath, Iris nodded her head against her soulmate's shoulder before she finally returned the embrace properly. It was mildly strange, hearing the soft tones of a woman as she hugged a distinctly male body, hardened with muscle and strength. However, nothing would stop Iris from opening her heart to her soulmates, no matter the gender.

Turning her face inward to once more rest against a pale, soft neck, Iris finally stopped trembling. "Thank you," she whispered, linking her hands behind the back of the woman holding her. The phantom fear from her nightmare still lingered in the back of her mind, but having someone that she knew she could trust helped to ground her, anchor her to the present. To reality.

She was safe, she wasn't alone, and her parents couldn't hurt her here.

"Patricia," the woman said suddenly. Iris drew away enough that her arms were still embracing a strong torso, but she was no longer hidden beneath her soulmate's chin. Looking up into calm blue eyes, a sweet smile was on her lips as she looked down into Iris's calmed ones. "My name is Patricia." So, this was the one who scolded Luke's eating habits. It was comforting to have finally met the personality behind the name, and Iris was so very happy that she had been determined enough so come here when she felt Iris's fear.

A smile brightened Iris's expression, making her look a tragic beauty with tears still staining her cheeks and caught in her dark eyelashes. "It's nice to meet you, Patricia," she answered softly, looking truly happy. "I…I've gotten so much comfort and strength from your mark over the years." Drawing her left arm from around Patricia, against her own chest instead, Iris showed the black writing on the back of her palm.

Patricia blinked in surprise. She had heard the others talking about their interactions with Iris, and how she often would trace the mark on the back of her hand in absentminded thought. However, she couldn't have imagined that it would be her words. Her words had given her soulmate so much just from being there; from being a constant and visible presence in her life. The surprise finally faded as she smiled once more, taking Iris's hand in hers and lifting it to press a kiss against the mark.

"I am honored, little one."

Iris flushed at the gentle action before she blinked in surprise as Patricia released her hand to instead move aside the collar of the maroon shirt that she was wearing, bearing the black mark that was Iris's begged words, don't leave, please, don't leave! Reaching up to gently trace over the mark, a sad smile touched her lips as she realized what they must have thought when they had first read it on their skin. It sounded like something Barry would have shouted to her as she was running away that first time.

Had they assumed they would try and leave her for some reason? Was that why they were all assuring her so adamantly that they had no intention of going anywhere?

Copying Patricia's action, Iris leaned forward and ghosted a gentle kiss against her words, dark against pale skin. Her soulmate sighed softly at the soft caress of Iris's lips as the feeling of being whole and accepted warmed her from the inside. So this was the soul bond?

Shifting back and angling herself to face Iris, Patricia reached up to gently trace a finger beneath one of Iris's tired eyes, feeling the softness of the skin that accompanied the bruise-like appearance. "How are you feeling now, dear?"

Looking away as she inhaled deeply, Iris knew the immediate answer would be that she felt much better now that she was no longer alone. However, the more in depth answer to Patricia's question was that she felt drained and afraid, still left in a state of unknowing when it came to her parents. She really had no clue why they had showed up and ordered her like they had years before, then vanished again with no further contact.

"I'm scared," she finally answered quietly. Her crying had left her mouth dry and her throat raw, leaving her to sound as though she truly had been caught in fits of screaming as she slept. "Were you told about my parents?"

Patricia's expression darkened slightly—the popular reaction when her parents were brought up to any of her soulmates, it would seem—and she nodded slightly. "Barry didn't go into detail, he felt it was up to you when your secrets were to be told, but we all are aware that you had been…abused, and Dr. Fletcher assumed it was you parents."

"Yes to both," Iris admitted quietly. "They're back…my parents. My father left me a note and a voicemail message, telling me to hide my marks. But…I decided to do the opposite." Patricia watched as, even now, Iris began to stroke her finger over the mark on her hand while she was speaking. "And he hasn't done anything, which scares me almost as much as if he had. He was never a patient man in the past, so I don't know why he showed up once and then just disappeared."

"Waiting is one of the hardest things," Patricia offered in response as she nodded along. She didn't know what else they could do to help Iris—the next move was up to her parents—and that left Patricia feeling just as helpless as she was sure that Iris did. But they weren't after her or the other alters, they were after Iris and that fact alone had everyone on edge. "Do you think you can sleep anymore?"

Iris shook her head without even having to think about it. Closing her eyes just brought back the images of trying to pull together her sliced skin, blood pouring out in unrealistic quantities. She swore she could still feel the sensation of her fingers sliding over the edges of the cut, trying desperately to pull it closed but the blood leaving her skin too slick to pull.

"Do you want to talk about your nightmare?" Patricia proposed instead, leaning into Iris's line of sight when she saw the troubled look was returning to her soulmate's gaze. "Hedwig always feels better after he tells me about bad dreams."

Hedwig. Another familiar name that went with a soulmate she was yet to meet. Her suspicions that Hedwig was a child continued to grow.

Scooting back along her bed, toward the pillows that were pushed and strewn in disarray from her restless movements, Iris pulled Patricia up with her so that both women were sitting back against the headboard, their hands intertwined between them. "It wasn't just a dream, not really. It was my parents, and they were cutting my marks."

Patricia tensed at her confession, tightening her grip on Iris's small, delicate hands as her words register. "What do you mean it wasn't just a dream, dear?" Even her words sounded forced.

Iris locked up for a moment, tensing her lips into a thin line. Patricia didn't know? Letting out a shuddering breath, she disentangled one of her hands and rotated her arm to bring her attention to the words on the outside of her forearm. The distraught sound that issued from Patricia's chest drew Iris's gaze up in surprise; tears welled in her blue eyes, a pinched, pained expression marring her features. She took Iris's arm in a gentle hold, running her fingertips along the scar that had been sewn together so dutifully.

Her parents had probably hated the doctor that helped her when he had preserved the words.

"Oh, little one," Patricia breathed out in despair. "Please, tell me this is the only one?"

Iris bowed her head, wishing that she could give Patricia that assurance. "No, it's not," she whispered sadly. "It's what I was dreaming about, before you woke up when you knocked. They were cutting my marks again, like when I was younger."

Patricia could only shake her head as she continued to stare at the scar as though wishing it would disappear. "How could anyone do this to a child?"

"I have asked myself that many times."

Pulling her small, fragile soulmate in close, Patricia hardened her resolve as her arms wrapped tightly around Iris's frame. "They will never touch you again," she swore, her soft tone strong and sure as she let Iris lean into her in comfort. "They will never even come close."

Neither of them moved, curled together amongst Iris's sheets and duvet. Patricia began telling her stories; tales of the things that the many identities in Kevin Crumb's body got into over the years, all to distract the younger woman from her dreams, from her life. Very soon, Iris was laughing softly as she listened to Patricia's take on the story she already knew about BT nearly breaking his nose. She told her about the ongoing things that happened in their home, and how often Hedwig was the troublemaker in a group of adults that were not amused by his pranks.

Patricia already knew that Iris did not have work that day, courtesy of Barry, and therefore felt no guilt as she watched Iris steadily fall back asleep as the barest hint of sunlight began to creep in though her windows. She continued to talk, however, in soft, lilting tones that worked to lull Iris deeper into her sleep—hopefully without nightmares.

Only once Iris had gone completely slack against her, leaning their sides together as her head rested on Patricia's shoulder, did the other woman stop regaling her sleeping soulmate with stories. Looking down at her, it broke Patricia's heart to know the extent of her soulmate's pain—and she had a disturbing feeling that it wasn't the full extent, not yet.

Closing her eyes and relaxing beneath Iris's weight, she let herself slip from the light as she soon opened her eyes to where Barry was sitting. Arms crossed with a troubled look, he didn't appear the usual Barry as he frowned deeply at the floor. Looking up only when Patricia came to sit next to him in an empty seat, he knew as soon as he met her gaze that she had been told about Iris's past—at least a fraction of it.

"We need to get her out of there," she began. "Alone and scared; it's no way to leave her."

"I know," Barry admitted tiredly, straightening from his slouch and scrubbing at his face with weary hands. "But what can we do? We don't have much room here; we barely have enough room for all of us."

"We only have on body, Barry," Patricia answered honestly. "She doesn't need much room—you've seen her home—but she does need our protection. Even without her parents here, they are haunting her. What good would we be if they actually tried to hurt her? We're across town."

"Would she do it?" Barry asked in response, sounding as tired as he looked.

"I think she will," BT answered as he stepped up to them, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans as he looked down at them with a pained expression. "She's never been wanted before. She's only ever been pushed away by people who were supposed to want her—to love her. Maybe…maybe this will prove to her that we are all in. We won't leave her."

Barry looked up to the younger man before he smiled faintly and let out a small huff as his shoulders relaxed. "Do you really think she'll just move in with us?"

"Not right away," Patricia answered. "But we can make a space for her at home, so that she's not alone all the time. I'm not proposing we take her from her home and make her give up her apartment, but I want to offer her a sanctuary. Somewhere her parents won't find her when she wants to sleep in peace."

"The note on her door tells us that her dad can get into her building," BT continued. "I'm with Patricia on this one."

Barry quirked an eyebrow, not having expected BT to so readily agree with the older woman, but he also knew that BT posed a very valid point. Iris was broken from the rejection and abuse of her parents, and offering her a place amongst them—the greatest show of faith for a group that had been ridiculed before—may just be the necessary step toward piecing her back together.

BT suddenly grinned. "I think you'll be hard-pressed to find anyone that wouldn't want her around."

"Amen," Luke called from his chair, throwing a fist in the air. Even Dennis came to stand just behind Patricia, placing a hand on her shoulder as he met Barry's gaze and nodded. The most they could do was offer the chance to her; after that, it was in her hands.

"She's ours," Dennis added. "If she'll take us. And we protect our own."

Leaning his elbows on his thighs, Barry looked over the many faces that made up their circle of identities. Some slept, others were nodding their agreement to the conversation that had woken them, and the remaining ones wore sad, pained expressions as they remembered the pain of Iris's nightmarish memories. Across the space, Kevin was sleeping fitfully in his chair with Hedwig snoring next to him. "If she'll take us," he agreed quietly.

Patricia smiled.

It wasn't Dennis! So many of you were aiming toward that mark being Dennis's, I was sitting over here with an evil smile, you have no idea.

The first of the Horde! It has begun! This is the kinder, less sinister side of Patricia, but you'll get evil, protective Patricia later.