This is Part 1 of a new fic. Basically, Monica is married to Ethan and they have 3 children. It deals with domestic violence so be warned. It's Mondler (after a while!). Monica is married to Ethan (and it was only when I re-read this that I remembered S1 Ethan, and so her husband is now him, but with someone else's personality). So sit back, relax, and reply!

Two Beds and a Coffee Machine

Part 1

"I loved you! I loved you when I dated you, when I married you. When I made love to you and when I carried your children. It's you. That's all. You that's driving me to this!"

Ethan laughed bitterly, his red face shining with hatred, "Don't try and turn this onto me. You're the slut who's sleeping her way through every man in this street"

Monica felt the tears fighting their way though and her voice was suddenly low, all her anger gone, "How dare you?" she whispered, loathing now running through her voice, "I loved you. I have always loved you and I have never ever been near another man. I never could. I don't do that"

"Oh yeah? Why can you never stop lying to me?!"

"When have I ever lied to you?!"

"All the fucking time Monica. 'Oh, can't cook tonight, Anna's got a sleepover'. 'Oh sorry I didn't clean, Charlotte kept me busy all day'. 'Oh, sorry I'm such a frigid cow but I've just given birth!' You can never be honest with me!"

Monica suddenly snapped, her usually calm head abandoning her, "You bastard. You total bastard. You wanna talk about honesty? How about Michelle? Amy? Jessica? Kathryn? All the women that I ignored and pretended you weren't fucking!"

Ethan didn't answer. Instead he brought his fist down, knocking her sideways as it collided with her left cheekbone, "You whore" he spat as she lay stunned on the floor, clutching at her flaming red cheek, "I'll going for a beer"

Monica was still lying there when the door slammed shut.

--------------------

"Henry, grab the rucksack from under your bed. Put some clothes in it OK? And any toys you want" Monica instructed as she did the same for herself and the girls. All the while frantically checking the clock, praying he wouldn't be back yet.

"Done!" Henry announced proudly as he threw his rucksack onto the bed.

"Well done", Monica congratulated, still distracted, "Go and get your sisters and get their coats and shoes on OK? Can you do that for Mommy?" her eyes filled with tears as she nodded and ran out of her bedroom excitedly. Following him with her eyes, Monica sank down onto her bed and sobbed. She couldn't believe things had come to this. When she'd married Ethan she'd been so in love, planning everything. The retirement home, the holidays abroad every summer. Everything. She was going to have the perfect life. She was not going to be someone's punch bag. Suddenly remembering why she was packing up her things, she threw the few remaining tops into her case and carried it downstairs to where her children were waiting.

"OK, babies, we're gonna go and stay with Mommy's friend for a little while OK? OK" After checking that Ethan wasn't walking up their street, she loaded her children in the car and began to drive. She wasn't even sure where she was going. She hadn't seen most of her friends since she moved from the city. No one would even remember her now. They especially wouldn't like her dumping her three kids on them while she fled her abusive husband.

There wasn't really any point in her fleeing. She knew she'd go back. She always did. No matter what Ethan did to her, said to her, punched into her, she always went back. How could she not? She had no job, no money, no hope and three kids. Without him she was nothing. No matter what she kept telling herself.

"Mommy, I'm tired"

Monica glanced in her rear view mirror. Henry's head was lolling on his right shoulder, his thumb in his mouth. Charlotte was asleep in her car seat. Only Annabelle remained awake and Monica could tell that wouldn't last long.

Knowing this moment would come, the kids would get tired and she would pull into a motel before going home the next day. Why didn't she ever just keep driving?! If she got far enough away she knew she wouldn't go back. But again, she never did. The words were automatically out of her mouth, her car already poised to turn, before she even thought about it now.

"OK guys. I'm gonna pull into the next motel OK? I think we could all use some sleep"

And so for that night the Sleepezy Motel became their home. And for that one night Monica enjoyed the slumber, aware that wherever her husband was at that very moment, he couldn't hurt them.