Wow, thank you everyone for the amazing reviews! I didn't expect such a great response to this! I did originally plan for it to be a one-shot, but you inspired me to write some more, I'm not sure how many parts it'll be in the end, but I have at least three more after this one. Hope you like!
They say that when you die your life flashes before your eyes. But she didn't have to wait for death, she got to relive her worst moments every night in her dreams. Sometimes, in the aftermath, she wondered if there were any good times to remember.
The look on her father's face as he bore down on her. The feeling of his hands, exploring places no father should ever be allowed to touch. The last specks of glitter settling in the snow globe, the cold feeling of dread as she knew what would happen next. The pitiful wailing of her baby as she was taken from her forever. The screech of brakes as Danielle's body flipped over the car. The sharp stab of pain, the knowledge that she had, yet again, lost her chance to be a mum. Her father's voice, echoing over and over. "Honestly V, did you really think you'd make a good mother?...Did you really think you'd make a good mother?...Did you really think you'd make a good mother?...Did you really think...?"
Her eyes snapped open, she was shaking, her cheeks damp with tears. It really was ridiculous, she had the same dream every night, you'd think she'd get used to it. But somehow she never did. No matter how much she might be able to kid herself during the day that everything was alright, that she was getting over it, at night it was an entirely different story. At night there was nothing to stop her dad creeping into her thoughts, hurting her even more.
Dashing more tears off her cheeks, she sat up, swung her legs out of bed. Silently, she made her way into the kitchen, and sat at the table, staring into space. She didn't want to wake him up again. There was no denying that she'd appreciated the comfort, but she still couldn't shake the feeling that she didn't deserve it. That the more she talked about it , the closer he'd come to realising that he didn't want to be with her. Who would? She was dirty, tainted, damaged goods, everything that Archie had always delighted in calling her. Drawing attention to this risked losing him. And if that happened, she just wouldn't be able to cope.
So that was why, when Jack limped into the kitchen, leaning heavily on his stick, expecting her to spill her soul to him again, she refused to drop her defences. It was self-preservation really. And besides, everyone expected her to be alright by now, surely that meant she was meant to be. Maybe she was just being silly, clinging on to the memories for so long. Maybe she was even being silly thinking that Jack really wanted to talk about it. Maybe he wanted her to be fine too, was growing irritated with the constant histrionics. Yes, it was for both their goods really. So why, when he had stomped back to their room, did it feel more like she was ruining their relationship than saving it?