A/N This next chapter's a little short, but I just needed to introduce Ellie.

Spikes-storm I have to agree. It did begin a bit Jerry Springer-ish. Sorry.

Anyway please read and review. Enjoy.

Catherine paused outside the closed door and took a deep breath. Not bothering to knock, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Ellie lay asleep on top of the bed sheets, still fully clothed. Her hipster jeans showed off her firm stomach and pierced navel. Her black vest top exposed her toned arms. Her bare feet displayed blood red painted toenails, which matched her chipped, ragged fingernails. Her long, dark hair was messy from where she'd slept on it, but that didn't matter. Some people look good when their appearance is a little wild.

She looked so peaceful as she lay there. The image was only ruined by her battered face. A shadow of a bruise was forming on her right cheekbone. The left hand side of her lower lip was split and swollen. A thin trickle of dried blood snaked down from her hairline, beside her right temple.

Catherine was suddenly struck by the memory of Ellie as a tiny, little girl. She had been so sweet. Always with a cheeky grin for everyone. Back then Catherine was the wild child, bringing shame on the family. Living for dancing. Dancing for money. Money for coke. Not living at all really. Merely leading a broken existence.

Catherine took a step towards the bed. Leaning forward she called softly, "Ellie. Ellie"

The reaction was nothing short of spectacular. Catherine didn't even see the transition. One second she was sleeping peacefully. The next she had leapt from the bed and landed smoothly beside it. Her knees were bent slightly, her weight balanced, her fists tight and raised in a fighting stance.

Catherine took a step back in shock, but her eyes locked on Ellie's, holding her gaze. Eventually, Ellie had the decency to lower her hands and her eyes. A strand of hair fell across her face. She blew it away carelessly. As she lifted her head, she raised one eyebrow and grinned.

"Sorry." At least she looked genuinely apologetic. "I'm a little jumpy. I don't do mornings."

Catherine didn't move. Only her eyes flickered up and down, inspecting her niece. She didn't bother with false, cheerful greetings.

"What happened to your face?" she demanded.

"Aahh." Ellie rolled her eyes upwards. "I got into a spot of trouble."

The stare she fixed Catherine with told her not to push for any more information.

"It looks nasty. Do you want me to clean you up?"

"No. I'll just take a shower. Then I'll be all shiny and new again," she joked. She still gave people that same cheeky grin that she had as a little girl.

Still Catherine didn't move. Ellie didn't let this bother her. She wasn't particularly shy. She stripped off her rumpled clothes, down to her underwear. Ignoring Catherine's shocked expression, she grabbed a white bathrobe, slipped it on and tied the belt tight around her waist.

As she made her way towards the door, she snatched a hairbrush off the dresser. She ushered Catherine towards the door and she obliged. She walked off towards the bathroom, swinging her hips. At the last second she turned back, winked at Catherine and closed the door, shutting her out.

Catherine leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. That girl needed help. When she'd looked into Ellie's eyes, she'd seen through the tough exterior. Inside she was just a troubled little girl, afraid and insecure. Not unlike the side of herself that Catherine tried to hide.

Perhaps this was Catherine's chance for redemption. She had to help her niece before she fell from grace, just as Catherine had done. She only hoped that she wasn't too late.