Tears of Flame

Disclaimer – If you don't recognise it it's mine. If you do, it ain't. Simple, yes?

A/N This is the first fanfic I've written, so please r/r and tell me (honestly) what you think. I don't mind flames, I know my writing leaves definite room for improvement. I do, admittedly, have something of an L/J fanfic fetish, so you'll probably hear more of me in time. Oh, a warning – this chapter includes strong language that some may find offensive. And things in italics are thoughts. Enjoy!

Chapter 1 - Escape

She lay there, in the corner of her room, between the stacks of boxes. Where it was safest, she thought to herself, where she had most protection. She cringed back from the door, even though it was closed, pushing against the wall, hoping it would swallow her up and keep her safe. Her mind numb with shock, she curled up, causing her stiff and aching limbs to screech in pain. Her face still stung where he had hit her. Limp auburn hair hung over her face, another wall, another way to protect herself. This is wrong! she thought. He's my father, he should look after me, not treat me like this! Her fingers, shaking in fury and fear, traced the bruises that spiralled down her arms and the rapidly swelling lump on her forehead. Despite the pain, Lily refused to cry. She wouldn't give him power over her, or at least, no more than he already had.

            Lily tried to slow her breathing, which was ragged and heavy, making her frail frame heave with emotion. She tried to slow the flow of adrenaline coursing through her veins. One day, she promised herself, one day…

            Eventually, her eyes fluttered shut as she retreated within herself, back to her memories of the days when no one could hurt her, where no one had tried. Lily's mind was filled with shadows of the life she'd had, filled with shadows of her mother; her scent, a clinging hint of spring rains and roses; her hair, a cascade of blonde past her waist; her laugh, a refreshing tinkle of far off bells; her smile, that pulled Lily in and told her she would never be alone. But she was. In her mind, Lily saw her mother, clear as if it were yesterday, twirling round her, pulling Lily into the dance. Lily saw her mother, just as she remembered, but she couldn't so much as glimpse her eyes. Mama, show me your eyes. I can't remember your eyes. Oh, please Mama… but Mama just spun away, laughing, her eyes obscured by her flowing blonde halo.

            Dad was different in those days, Lily knew. She pictured him too, laughing as he picked Lily up and spun her round, and Lily laughed with him. He pulled her in close and hugged her before setting her down again. Lily watched as her mother, out of breath with the dance, sat on the grass, butterflies dancing around her head. She's so beautiful, Lily thought. She was so beautiful…

            But then it all changed.

            Lily was not sure when her memories of her mother slipped into dreams. She relaxed subconsciously, releasing the tension she had not even known she still carried. Her breathing was now deep and measured, in time with her pounding feet as she ran barefoot through her dream, chasing a pale blue butterfly, like the ones she'd imagined with her mother. Laughing, she tripped over her own feet and tumbled over the soft grass, before springing back up and continuing the chase. Reaching out with her hands, she enclosed the butterfly in hot fingers, careful not to hurt it. She drew it close and opened her hands. She watched it flutter on her fingers, enjoying the rare moment of peace. Then a voice came out of nowhere.

            It was little more than a whisper, a whisper that seemed close and very distant at the same time. The voice was male and felt like soft spring flowers, but the distant echo sounded firm and incredibly wise, as old as the mountains. In her dream Lily realised without surprise the voice was coming from the butterfly, and as if it were nothing unusual she lifted it to her ear and could distinguish the words in the whisper.

            "Fear not, whatever may happen, for I am coming for you and I will keep you safe. You are not alone." Lily smiled, and watched as the butterfly flew away towards the sun. Feeling happy and hopeful, the dream Lily curled up on the damp grass and drifted to sleep, warmed by the dying rays of the sun.

***

            The warmth of her dream remained with Lily as she woke, and clambered clumsily out from behind the piles of boxes, her bruised limbs cramped from the awkward position she had been sleeping in. She knew she could trust the voice, that it would help her. It had sounded so serene, it gave her a sense of wellbeing that remained with her too, and as she reached the kitchen and started to make her dad's coffee she sang a little to herself. Singing was one of the few things that kept Lily going. A small act of defiance, to prove to herself that her heart and mind were free, however battered her body. Unsurprisingly, her dad hated it when she sang, even if it was only softly to herself. Therefore she rationed her singing, and it was all the sweeter for the thrill of danger. If her dad ever caught her, he hit her. It showed him he wasn't completely in control of her, that she was still free. He hated to feel like he wasn't in control.

            Lily was still wrapped up in her dream, wondering what it meant, as her dad walked into the room and demanded his coffee. She was so lost to reality that she didn't notice she was singing quietly as she took the steaming coffee cup over to him. She put it down next to him on the table and turned away, but he grabbed her wrist, fingers clenched so hard he bruised her pale skin, and she gave a gasp of surprise and pain, the faint hovering smile vanishing from her lips.

            Lily, uncomprehending, looked into his eyes, to see them glinting coldly in his reddening face, glaring at her in anger and malice. He opened his mouth and raised a hand, as if unsure which weapon to use. Lily flinched back as he struck with both.

            "What the fuck do you think you're doing, you little brat!" he snarled, viciously backhanding her across the face. Her hand went up instinctively to her stinging cheek, her eyes blinking back tears of pain and shock. "What are you up to, eh? Why are you so fucking happy? Why the hell are you singing?" He slapped her again, and she staggered under the force of the blow. For a moment it looked as if she was going to collapse, but she drew herself up tall, eyes blazing as red as her hair, and said softly "Because Mum came to me last night. She keeps me singing." Her father looked slightly taken aback at her defiance, and coupled with the mention of his wife it made him even more livid than before. Eyes narrowed until they were almost indistinguishable from his progressively purpler face, he grabbed the first object that was within reach of his hand and flung it at Lily, as hard as he could.

            Scalding coffee drenched one side of Lily's face, which was turning red and blistering within seconds. The mug hit Lily's forehead and shattered, a shard of china cutting open her cheek. A vivid red lump stood out where the mug had struck, pulsing softly in time with Lily's heartbeat.

            Lily didn't feel any pain. In fact, she didn't feel anything very much. She didn't even really register what had happened. All Lily felt was anger. Her father, expecting her to collapse, sobbing, to the floor stared at her in shock as she seemingly grew at least two feet and advanced menacingly towards him, her eyes on fire. His eyes widened in shock and fear as sparks of lightning crackled amid Lily's wild curls. He backed away from her, staring. What was happening? She continued her deadly advance, fire at her fingertips and murder in her eyes. An aura of power radiated off her glowing skin, and waves of fury rolled from her. Her father scrambled frantically across the floor and curled up in the corner, whimpering. Lily stopped a few feet in front of him and pointed a finger at him. A bolt of lightning leapt from her hair and ran down her arm, gathering at her fingertip. Ready to strike if she said the word. They both knew it would be fatal. But the word never came. Glaring at the wreck of her father pleading with her from the corner, Lily returned to herself. The lightning disappeared, along with much of her fury. This… this pathetic creature deserved nothing but her pity. Killing him wouldn't be worth the effort. Giving her father a last, contemptuous glare, Lily turned on her heel and left the house. Her father still sobbed hysterically on the kitchen floor. Lily never wanted to see him again.

***

            Hours later, Lily came reluctantly to a stop and felt the last of her anger drain away, and with it her last vestige of strength. Anger had been all that was fuelling her frenzied walk through the grimy city streets. She was now in a dingy alleyway, utterly and irrevocably lost. As she stopped, the pain from her horrific injuries came flooding back, her face feeling like it was on fire. With a last futile wail of anguish and despair, the pain became too much, and Lily blacked out.

***

"Honey! Honey, wake up! "She heard a voice call through the darkness. She turned and saw her mother's beautiful face before her. Lily was still sobbing from the pain in her face, but the sight of her mother wrenched her heart. It was a deeper, terrible pain, and Lily burst into fresh tears and shrieked at her mother "Why? Why did you leave me? Why did you leave me with him?"  Her mother just looked sadly at her, and before Lily could demand an answer, the voice came again, "What's wrong, dear? Wake up!" Her head screamed in pain and her mother's face swam before her eyes, turning into that of a concerned looking woman who had ginger hair with a streak of silver. "Who… Wh… Where…?" Lily stuttered weakly, before the scene faded once again, the pain overwhelming her.