Title: The Other Woman
By: Lisa Marie aka youcrazything
Rating: R. WARNING: Dark fic
Summary: Bonnie thinks about her life and where it has led her.
A/N: I dunno where the hell this came from… you all know that I tend to stick with the comedy. Hmm… must be the lack of sleep…

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She knows it was never about him truly caring about her. She knows that he was confused and frustrated. She knows that he regrets every moment he has spent with her. And yet, all she can do is think about how she wishes he were here. She lays splayed out on her couch, head hanging back over the edge.

Its days like this she wonders if it would be so bad to take one of her kitchen knives and just slice along the veins on her wrists. She can imagine the blood welling to the surface and spilling out. She can imagine her life slipping from her as she wears a smile on her face with tears streaming down her face. Bittersweet; it's the story of her life.

She can remember her mom and dad on her 10th birthday, so happy to celebrate the day their beautiful daughter had been born. She can remember the times her father took her to the carnival and bought her the big packets of cotton candy. He would always steal some of the fluffy, sugary candy from her and they would laugh as their fingers and mouths become sticky. She remembers her mom tucking her into bed at night and telling her how much she loved her.

But she also remembers the screaming. Screaming so loud that she would clamp her hands over her ears and hide under the dining table. She remembers waking up to hearing her mother sobbing downstairs. She remembers the long walk down the stairs, remembers finding her mother sitting at the bottom, head in hands, sobbing as if her life was over. She remembers the realization that her dad was never coming back. She remembers when her mother started taking her anger out on her. The love she had proclaimed while tucking her in at night disappeared with the crazed look in her eyes and each blow she laid on her. She remembers finally standing up and insisting on getting emancipated. She remembered never feeling so alone in her life when she moved into her tiny little apartment.

Then she had met Adam. He had been the first to appreciate her art. He didn't care that it was dark and that she was so obviously troubled. He still called it art, still said it was amazing and beautiful. She had almost felt like she was transported back to the time before her parents abandoned her. That had been the immediate attraction to him.

He had taken her to see Mrs. Girardi as soon as he got the chance. She was intrigued to find out that this amazing woman really did have a knack for art. She somehow reminded her of her own mother, before she had become cold and angry. She knew she was hooked when she found out that Mrs. Girardi was the one and only Joan Girardi's mother. Joan had fascinated her every since they first met at the shelter. She remembers hoping that maybe she and Joan could eventually become friends. It was the first time she had felt any hope of not being alone for a long time.

Bonnie snorted to herself, bringing her thoughts back to the present. Fat chance of that happening. She had definitely ruined any chances of becoming Joan's friend.

She remembers the first time Adam had come over. She had invited him so that they could collaborate on an art project. They combined her dark style with his knack for using junk other people threw away and made the coolest sculpture she had ever seen. She remembers how much fun they had building it. The last time she could remember laughing so much was before her dad had deserted her.

They had finished the sculpture and stood back to admire it. She had turned to him, eyes bright with excitement. Their eyes locked, and there was no way she could deny the attraction she felt towards him. She had felt a thrill run through her when his gaze dropped to her lips for a moment. She knew then; she could feel it. He had wanted her too. They had leaned in and gave into the tension that had been building up all night. It had all happened so fast, but soon their clothes lay in piles on the floor and he was pushing her back on the bed. She had been so overcome with passion for him; it almost scared her. She'd had sex before, but it had always been meaningless, just another way to pass the time. Now, she knew that this was more; she truly had feelings for him. And it had been amazing.

She had expected him to be the cuddly type; something she had never had before. So, she had been surprised when he had pulled away so soon after they were finished. He had sat up and pulled on his boxers and pants and sat on the edge of the bed, looking confused.

She had sat up behind him, wrapping an arm around him and attempting to cuddle up to him, asking him what was wrong. He had shrugged her off and turned to face her. She could have sworn her heart had stopped when she saw the look on his face. That's when he had told her. Joan is my girlfriend. With that, he had left.

She had felt sick to her stomach. Joan, this girl she had found so intriguing and wanted so badly to accept her. She had done the unthinkable; she had slept with the girl's boyfriend. Her stomach had lurched and she ran to the bathroom, throwing up all of her stomach's contents into the toilet. As the retching subsided, she started to cry. Big, heart-wrenching sobs escaped her as she leaned back against the wall. What have I done? She had thought to herself over and over.

He had come back of course. She tried to refuse him, she really had. But she couldn't; her feelings for him had only grown with the intimate act they had shared. It had only been a few times, but she learned fast. She had known that every time she let him lay her down on the bed and take her over, she was slipping farther and farther away from any chances of befriending the one person she had remotely liked in the longest time. She had stopped caring. She could feel herself becoming cold and hard again every time she let him inside of her. She was closing herself off again. She even tried to turn it around the last time, tried to make it a relationship. But really, what did she know about those? None of the other guys she had been with had wanted one, why should he be any different?

She had purposefully approached him in front of Joan that day of the mock trials. The hurt and pain had all been real, but she had wanted to put on a good show, make him get what he deserved. Bastard, using her for sex, and lying to one of the nicest people she knew. She had hung back afterwards long enough to see Joan walk out of the room, tears streaming down her face. She knew Joan had broken up with him. She felt a sense of closure wash over her with the knowledge. You had it coming; you creep, she thought bitterly as she stared at Adam through the door.

Now, as she contemplated her smooth unscarred wrists, she wondered if it would really hurt all that much. It would just take one swift cut on each wrist; then she could sink into oblivion. An insane laugh escaping her lips, she placed a hand on her stomach. And his bastard child could go down with her. He wouldn't get the satisfaction of knowing he had knocked her up. I should just do it… slit my wrists and leave him a fucking love letter written in blood. The thought only made her laugh harder. Who would care if she died? No one, that's fucking who.

She stumbled her way into the kitchenette area and grabbed the blade out of its holder. She held the blade up in the light, admiring the glare that shined back at her. It'll be beautiful, she thought. Blood splattered everywhere, me in the middle of it all, pale and dead. Someone should paint it and make it a fucking piece of priceless art. She chuckled madly to herself. Lover boy should do it. Fucking priceless irony.

She arranged herself on the couch; she had to be in the perfect pose for the portrait after all. She lifted the gleaming blade to her wrist, tears started to tread down her cheeks, all while she cackled hysterically. It was exactly as she had pictured it. Sweet nothingness was soon to come; she could almost taste it. A knock sounded on the door, startling her badly. The knife dropped from her hands onto the floor.

"Shit!" She cried out in frustration. She screamed out, "You can't ruin my moment!"

"Bonnie? Bonnie! What's going on?" It was Joan on the other side of the door. Just fucking great. Life was a real bitch sometimes. Before she could do anything to stop it, Joan had managed to burst through the door. She rushes in only to come to a sudden halt when she sees Bonnie laid out on the couch, laughing madly and crying at the same time, knife clutched back in her grip.

"Oh God!" Joan cries hand flying to her mouth in shock.

"What, are you gonna be my savoir?" Bonnie slurs out at her. "That's too damn priceless. I fucked your boyfriend and now your going to beg me not to slit my wrists, right?"

Joan's eyes darken, but she quickly reaches out to Bonnie's shaking hand and gently took the knife.

"Look, you may not be my favorite person right now," Joan told her softly. "But don't do this."

Bonnie stops laughing. The crying starts coming more forcibly now.

"What do you think you're doing, bitch?" She screams at Joan, grabbing at her, eyes wild. "Didn't you hear me? I fucked your boyfriend! And guess what sweetie? Bastard managed to knock me up. I have your fucking asshole boyfriend's baby inside of me! Still want me to live?"

Joan only stares at her in shock as Bonnie grabs and tugs at her jacket.

"Do you hear me, bitch?" Bonnie cries desperately.

"Shhh," Joan comforts her, pulling her into a hug. "Its ok. Its ok."

Bonnie is breaking down now. She falls limp against Joan and sobs hysterically.

"No! Its not!" She chokes out between sobs. "I can't have a baby! I'm 17 years old! And I betrayed you…"

"No," Joan says darkly, eyes going cloudy again. "Adam betrayed me. I barely know you."

Bonnie goes suddenly deathly calm.

"I wanted to be your friend, you know?" She shakes her head, looking for all the world like a lost little girl. "I haven't wanted to be friends with anyone before."

"Then why the hell did you sleep with Adam?" Joan demands harshly.

"I didn't know he was your boyfriend. He didn't tell me until after we…"

"Oh God," Joan whispers, blinking in shock. She feels like she could vomit. He had played them both. The Adam she knew would have never been capable of such a thing. What had happened to the boy she fell in love with?

"I am so sorry," Bonnie tells her, sincerity clear in her wide, teary eyes.

Joan wants to hate her for taking a part of Adam away from her, she really does. But, how can she when Bonnie is sitting here in front of her, just brought back from a total breakdown and practically begging for her forgiveness?

"It's ok," Joan promises, even though she isn't so sure it will be. "I'll help you get through this. We can be…" Joan sucks in a deep breath, as Bonnie looks up at her, wide-eyed and hopeful. "We can be friends."

"Really?" Bonnie asks in a small voice that reminds Joan of a little child.

"Yeah," Joan replies, a forced smile appearing on her lips. "We'll get you through this, I swear."

Bonnie lets out a tired sigh of relief as she leans back on the couch, exhausted from all the drama.

"Thank you," she whispers as her eyes finally flutter closed, sleep claiming her.

Joan feels a presence nearby and looks up to find Cute Boy God standing in the doorway.

"For a kind, merciful God, you sure like to mess with your people," Joan comments coldly with her arms crossed as she glares at him.

"Actions have consequences," God told her simply. "Adam knew this but didn't want to think that he'd have to face up to his."

"And Bonnie? What did she do to deserve this?" Joan demands, angry that God could do such horrible things to her and the people around her.

"Free will, Joan," God reminds her. "Adam used his wrongly. Bonnie was an innocent who just got caught in the middle."

"How is that fair?" Joan shouts at him, wondering if her growing faith in him can survive this.

"It may seem like the world is falling apart now, but it will get better."

"Promise?" Joan asks in a small voice, feeling so lost with everything that has happened in the past couple of days.

"Mercy, compassion, forgiveness, companionship, love. All things that come out of the smallest gestures, but can have such a deep impact on others," God informs her, his own love and compassion shining through his avatar's eyes. "You gave all of that to Bonnie. Restored her hope. You did well, Joan. Time heals all wounds, but for someone to have faith in you no matter what…now that is a miracle."

Joan watches him turn to leave, his trademark wave sent over his shoulder. She can feel that he is right. No matter how dark things were now, they could only get better. And she wasn't alone in this.

She carefully sits down next to Bonnie, trying not to disturb her peaceful slumber. She gently brushes the hair away from her forehead and is struck with the realization that she knows nothing about this girl. She vows to get to know her; to help her through what is going to be some very rough times.

"I promise, it will be ok."