AN: Thanks so much for the positive reviews people, they really do urge me to write more. This next chapter isn't pretty, and I didn't enjoy writing it, but it had to be done for the story to continue. As always, please leave a review :)

Magenta was used to her parents never being around, the day she was born her father had gone straight to the pub to "celebrate" her birth, and her mother had stayed in bed all afternoon and thrown herself back in to full time work just a day later. Riff Raff had always been the one to take care of her. It was very rare that they were found apart, they adored each other, they were all each other had. But he had been working at the palace for around a year now, and she only saw him for a few hours at night since. It had become apparent to her then how much she depended on him.

With her mother and brother working and her father practically living in the pub, Magenta was alone in the house almost all of the time. Sometimes she would go outside and play with the other children on the streets, but she was often ridiculed because of her tatty demeanour, and since her family couldn't afford for her to attend school she felt very much out of the loop.

Most days Magenta spent her time tidying the house. She hated any mess or dirt, and since nobody else ever bothered to clean the house she took it upon herself to do so. Magenta was just six years old, but her toys would have to wait.

Another task that had recently been assigned to her was making the meals. Livia and Riff Raff usually ate all of their meals at the palace, but there was still her father to see to. Most people would be horrified to see a six year old hovering over a scorching stove, but not Magenta's parents. And so, around five o'clock, Magenta began preparing her fathers dinner.

Half an hour later, Magenta heard the front door crash open, signalling that her father was finally home. She was still too small to reach the stove properly, and so had to stand on a rickety chair. Doing so, she peered in to the bubbling pan at the soup she was heating up. It wasn't quite done yet.

Markouz walked in to the room, sniffing eagerly at the delicious aroma that was clouding the kitchen. He was quite a short man, unlike his wife who was tall and willowy. His hair was slightly balding, but what locks did remain were scarlet and slightly wispy. Magenta had definitely inherited her mane from her father. As he came in to the room, she sensed that he reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke, amongst other things.

"Hi, daddy," Magenta said, smiling nervously, the strange accent that had suddenly developed as she grew older thick upon the air. She was quite a plucky young girl, but the only person who Magenta was truly terrified of was her father. Or, more accuratley, his temper.

Markouz glared at her. "Why isn't dinner on the table, Magenta?" He demanded to know.

"Well, its- its almost done," Magenta stuttered. Markouz took a few steps towards her, and she retreated from him.

"I don't ask a lot of you, Magenta. All I require is that my dinner be ready on the table the nanosecond I get home," Markouz said, his voice getting higher as he got angrier.

"Like I said, father, its almost ready. Just take a seat and-" Magenta was cut off by her fathers yells.

"Don't tell me what to do!" He screamed, and without much warning his hand shot out and he slapped Magenta hard across her face. She was too stunned to respond. Markouz had slapped her before, but never with that much force. Glaring down at his little daughter he spoke quieter, "There's no excuse for pure laziness, and I won't have it from you," He snapped.

"I'm sorry!" Magenta cried, stroking her burning cheek.

"Sorry isn't good enough. You get things way too easy around here, its time your pretty little eyes were opened!" Markouz announced.

Magenta had no where else to run, she was already backed up hard against the wall. Her heart was beating fast. Why couldn't Riff Raff be here to protect her? He always took the brunt of their fathers temper for them, but now Magenta had been left alone to deal with it herself. She knew it was fruitless to reason with him and so she took a deep breath, and prepared herself for the worst.

The first blow left Magenta breathless. Her father's fist swung out, hitting her squarely on the corner of her right cheekbone. Magenta wavered, but forced herself to stay standing. Her head was pounding with the pain, but she would not allow herself to be conquered, not yet. The next punch was aimed at her stomach, and despite her best efforts Magenta collapsed to her knees. Her father kicked her in the back so that she sprawled out properly on the dirty stone floor.

"You're going to be sorry after this, you little bitch!" Markouz hissed.

She knew that this time it was going to go further than the odd push and slap.

Magenta looked up, peeking through her fingers, and saw with a sickening jolt that her father held an empty glass bottle in his hands. She gasped and closed her eyes tightly just in time to feel the bottle smack down on the top of her head. Glass shattered everywhere and she screamed. Thankfully the bottle hadn't cut in to her completely, but the feel of glass prickling in her hair and the thin trickle of blood running hot down her face was enough to make her carry on screaming.

"Shut up!" Markouz ordered, gripping his daughter by her hair and pulling her up. The pain was unbearable. Magenta saw him glance over at the steaming pan. Realising his motives, she screamed again, and he threw her against the wall where her head cracked with a sickening thud.

And then, like a miracle, Riff Raff appeared. He took one look at the scene before him and yelled, "Get off her, you bastard!"

Markouz laughed, dropping Magenta to the floor like she was a rag doll. Thankful to be released but now terrified for the fate of her brother, she scurried in to the corner.

"Here he is, the big brother!" Markouz scoffed, "And just who do you think you're calling a bastard, you little punk?" Markouz asked, poking his son hard in the chest with one stubby finger.

"Argh!" Riff Raff's cry seemed to make the kitchen tremble. He ran forwards, but passed his father and picked up the hot pan. He swung it fast, sending the hot soup raining down on Markouz. Magenta felt a few sprays of the soup spit at her, but she remained unscathed. Her father however was howling. He sank to his knees, screaming in pain.

"Don't you ever touch her again!" Riff Raff cried, bringing the heavy pan down on his fathers head, "Ever, ever again, you bastard!" He carried on repeating the word as he swung the pan around, beating his father senseless.

Magenta howled and sobbed. Eventually, realising that she was frightened and hurting, Riff Raff ceased. He dropped the pan with a clatter and, leaving his father unconcious on the floor, ran towards his baby sister.

"Magenta, come here," He demanded softly. His eleven year old face looked as if it had aged a good few years in just a matter of minutes.

Slowly, Magenta stood up and wobbled over to him. Riff Raff caught her in his arms and hugged her tightly. "I'm never leaving you again," He vowed.

Magenta cried against Riff Raff's chest quietly now, and she didn't stop until the soup on the floor had turned stone cold.