Broken

A ripple of sound came to Wally's ears -- rap, rap, rap -- radiating from his window. He started slightly before looking up from the homework he was currently laboring over (Trigonometry; always a fun time. He really should learn not to put these things off until 1:30 on a Sunday night.). The light in his room was low, coming only from the lamp by his bed several feet away, but even in the darkness he could make out his visitor: a pretty Asian girl, long black hair in a ponytail, party dress on, make-up smeared and eyes glassy red. Kuki.

Without a word he got up and marched over to the glass panes, motioning for her to move back. She did, moving carefully on the tree branch she was perched on, and he pushed the widow up, shoving it firmly in place. He offered her his hand and she took it, small, silky fingers sliding into his own. Wally felt an electric shock ran up his arm and through his chest, setting off lights and flashes in the back of his brain. Mentally, he berated himself for allowing even such a small thrill of feeling to poke through.

Feet firmly on the floor, Kuki wasted no time walking over to Wally's bed and sitting down, knees drawn up to her chest. Wally looked at her in the dim, almost romantic light ("Stop it, brain," he thought, agitated.), watching a few strands of hair fall into her face, eyes tracing the curves of her body, hugged by her dress. She would look perfect if it weren't for the obvious anguish in her eyes. He clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to fight off the rage building in his gut. Quickly, he sat down beside her and said nothing; it was a familiar situation. In a moment Kuki would either talk or cry or they would simply sit in silence for the next hour or so. Wally bit back the angry thoughts that were beginning to emerge and forced himself to think about a particularly nasty math problem he was working on until she made a move.

Kuki took in a stuttering breath, "At the party," she started, voice wavering, "with Justin…"

Ah yes, the party. The one she wouldn't stop talking about all week. The one she was going to with her boyfriend Justin that was going to have a live band and everything. Wally's teeth started to grind.

"Did he do something to you?" He asked, amazed at how neutral he'd managed to keep his voice.

Tears sprung up in Kuki's eyes and she let out an involuntary sob. Wally automatically wrapped his arm around her thin shoulders and her face dove into his shirt, trying to muffle the gasps and tears.

"He didn't rape you, did he?" He asked, trying to keep his voice low and gentle and promising to suffocate that boy while he slept if he had.

He felt Kuki shake her head. 'No,' Wally thought, 'but I bet he came pretty damn close.'

They sat for a while in silence as Kuki cried. Wally rested his chin in her hair while inwardly he seethed. She was always doing this, always dating boys that seemed nice and charming but were really bunch of ass-wipes that were only interested in her body. It was times like this that Wally wished Kuki wasn't quite so friendly and outgoing and nice. It was times like this that he wished she didn't attracted boys like flies to honey. Actually, he wouldn't really mind if she never attracted any boys ever again. It was hard, loving someone who was so free and so willing to be loved by everyone; it was like loving the sun. Minutes passed and her tears began to ease, changing from wailing into soft hiccups. Wally, realizing the bulk of her tears had past and feeling the need to console her, began to speak.

"He's an ass, Kuki," he said, rubbing her arm slightly and keeping in a few harsher insults. "You're better off with him gone."

"Don't say that, Wally," she said, pulling away from his chest to speak. "He just had a little too much to drink. I'm sure he'll apologize tomorrow."

The quiet lion of fury inside Wally's head, which before had only been growling, began to roar at this comment. Why did she always defend these idiots? Couldn't she that they didn't deserve her defense? That they were useless little shits that wouldn't know how to treat a girl if they took a class on it? Liquid heat rose in his throat, pushing out words and spite that he hadn't meant to say.

"What about the next time he has too much to drink?" Wally growled. "And the next time? And the next? Will you just keep forgiving him if he says some crappy apology?"

"Wally, stop it." Kuki said, moving away from him slightly. "You know it's not like that. I really like Justin. It'll be fine by tomorrow, I'm sure of it."

The word "like" twisted in Wally's gut like a knife, but he pushed through the feeling, fueled by his rage. "Then what is it like, Kuki? Is it like Mark? Or Rob? Or Chris or Joe? Why do you keep dating all these shit-heads that walk all over you?"

"Stop it!" Kuki said again, standing up. "I came here because you're my friends and I thought you'd help me feel better, not so you'd get mad at me!"

"Well, hell, what else do you want me to do?" Wally shot back, standing up himself. "You let these fuckers like Justin use you! What is going to take for you to realize that? Do they have to beat you or molest you first? Or will you never learn and end up marrying one, make every day of your life a living hell? God, Kuki, how can you be such an idiot –"

A slap to the face cut off Wally's rant. His cheek stinging, he looked down to see Kuki standing there with her arm raised and tears in her eyes once again. Time seemed to stand still at that moment as Wally saw the shadows on her face, cast from his lamp, the angry red flush on her cheeks, the scratch on her collar bone he hadn't noticed earlier. Before he could say a word, she ran to the still-open window, hair flying behind her, and jumped out, climbing down the tree at record speed with no regard to her dress. Wally was after her fast, but not fast enough.

"Kuki!" He yelled to her retreating form. "Kuki, wait!"

She didn't stop.

Wally watched for just a moment longer before he made a dash for his coat and began pulling it on inside-out. He would go after her. He had to. He would run and catch up with her and explain and apologize and say…

He paused. What would her say? That her loved her? That's her loved her for years and years now, since he was ten?

How would she believe that after what had just happened? What right did he have to love the sun?

Wally slowly took off his jacket and walked over to his window, shutting it quietly. He sat back down at his desk, looking at his math problems but not really reading them. Placing a hand over his eyes, he clenched his fist hard, nails biting into the skin, before slamming it hard into the wood, cracking it slightly.

"Dammit." he said, voice breaking. "Dammit."

At a corner, several streets down, a pretty girl in a party dress stood crying silently, wishing a certain boy doing math homework would run after her and hold her tight and tell her that he loved her.

A/N: Hurm… I feel like I made Wally get angry way too fast. Also, the theme to this seems just a bit too similar to Once Upon a Time… but I guess, as a whole, it's not too bad. I do think that the situation and their characters are fairly accurate for once. Or I could be wrong. Who knows?