Title: Flashback
Author: Sparky8me2
Disclaimer: These people don't belong to me. I swear. They belong to Joss and the nice people at Mutant Enemy.
Summary: Snippet from Lilah's past- her POV
Spoilers: None this chapter.
Distribution: and a few other places- if you want it, go ahead, just let me know where it's going.
**
August, 1986
The heat was oppressive that summer, especially in August- it was one of those days where the media warned you against going outside for any length of time unless it was absolutely necessary. Just one week after my birthday, and I found myself sitting in the clinic a couple seats away from my stepfather. I stared at the grey walls and tried to ignore him- I didn't want to think about any of it. Not how screwed up this all was, not the bruises, not why I was there... One little mistake, one little encounter, at the end of the school year and it lands me in this nondescript little clinic way the hell out of town because it wouldn't do at all for anyone to find out Richard Sheppard's stepdaughter went and got herself knocked up.
The procedure wasn't that bad; the nurse took me to a private room and left me to change into a hospital gown. She did a sonogram while we waited for the doctor, which I opted not to look at- it wouldn't change anything.
The doctor was very kind and casually noted the bruises on my face and arms as the nurse took my heartrate and blood pressure. "Wow, those're some shiners, huh?"
I nodded. "Yeah- I took a bad fall during soccer practice. I bruise pretty easy." Neither were true- I haven't played in any sports since I was in grade school and I don't bruise that easily. But what was I going to tell him? That my stepfather's an asshole that smacked me around until I agreed to come here? It's a decision I would've made on my own anyway. I made a stupid mistake, but I'm not going to pay for it for the rest of my life, and I'm sure as hell not going to make some kid pay for it too.
"So you are here because this is a decision you want, right?"
I nodded again. "Yes."
He smiled a bit, evidently relieved. "All right. We'll get started then. We're going to give you something to help you relax, so you'll feel a bit of a prick on your arm and when you do, I want you start counting backwards for me from a hundred."
***
I really don't remember much else- I woke up in the recovery ward and the nurse was there again to make sure I was feeling all right and gave me some tylenol for the pain- even most of what happened there is kind of fuzzy.
I do remember Richard tried to talk on the way home, but I brushed him off. He always tried to do that- make some token gesture of kindness after he hit me, and I always brushed it off. Why would I want anything to do with him? Jackass.
So I think it was around then I decided all this was going to stop. I wasn't going to let myself be victimized any more. After all, I was strong, I was at the top of my classes and it was only going to be one more year until I went away to university. I already knew I was going to study law, but that wasn't really the point. The point was, as soon as I could make him, that bastard was going to pay for everything he made me suffer.
I admit, I felt myself growing cold from the day my parents decided to divorce and my mom took up with this creep, but this? Taking away one of the biggest choices in my life that should've been mine to make? Oh, no. That's not tolerable and it was certainly a choice I'd never let anyone take from me again.
Author: Sparky8me2
Disclaimer: These people don't belong to me. I swear. They belong to Joss and the nice people at Mutant Enemy.
Summary: Snippet from Lilah's past- her POV
Spoilers: None this chapter.
Distribution: and a few other places- if you want it, go ahead, just let me know where it's going.
**
August, 1986
The heat was oppressive that summer, especially in August- it was one of those days where the media warned you against going outside for any length of time unless it was absolutely necessary. Just one week after my birthday, and I found myself sitting in the clinic a couple seats away from my stepfather. I stared at the grey walls and tried to ignore him- I didn't want to think about any of it. Not how screwed up this all was, not the bruises, not why I was there... One little mistake, one little encounter, at the end of the school year and it lands me in this nondescript little clinic way the hell out of town because it wouldn't do at all for anyone to find out Richard Sheppard's stepdaughter went and got herself knocked up.
The procedure wasn't that bad; the nurse took me to a private room and left me to change into a hospital gown. She did a sonogram while we waited for the doctor, which I opted not to look at- it wouldn't change anything.
The doctor was very kind and casually noted the bruises on my face and arms as the nurse took my heartrate and blood pressure. "Wow, those're some shiners, huh?"
I nodded. "Yeah- I took a bad fall during soccer practice. I bruise pretty easy." Neither were true- I haven't played in any sports since I was in grade school and I don't bruise that easily. But what was I going to tell him? That my stepfather's an asshole that smacked me around until I agreed to come here? It's a decision I would've made on my own anyway. I made a stupid mistake, but I'm not going to pay for it for the rest of my life, and I'm sure as hell not going to make some kid pay for it too.
"So you are here because this is a decision you want, right?"
I nodded again. "Yes."
He smiled a bit, evidently relieved. "All right. We'll get started then. We're going to give you something to help you relax, so you'll feel a bit of a prick on your arm and when you do, I want you start counting backwards for me from a hundred."
***
I really don't remember much else- I woke up in the recovery ward and the nurse was there again to make sure I was feeling all right and gave me some tylenol for the pain- even most of what happened there is kind of fuzzy.
I do remember Richard tried to talk on the way home, but I brushed him off. He always tried to do that- make some token gesture of kindness after he hit me, and I always brushed it off. Why would I want anything to do with him? Jackass.
So I think it was around then I decided all this was going to stop. I wasn't going to let myself be victimized any more. After all, I was strong, I was at the top of my classes and it was only going to be one more year until I went away to university. I already knew I was going to study law, but that wasn't really the point. The point was, as soon as I could make him, that bastard was going to pay for everything he made me suffer.
I admit, I felt myself growing cold from the day my parents decided to divorce and my mom took up with this creep, but this? Taking away one of the biggest choices in my life that should've been mine to make? Oh, no. That's not tolerable and it was certainly a choice I'd never let anyone take from me again.
