See? I told you I'd get better at updating!

Amber had finally collapsed from sheer exhaustion sometime after Corny and Link helped her inside. She'd tried so hard to stay awake, to explain her plans to them; to tell them that she was going to get a job, save up money. Tell them that she would never go back to that house unless they drug her dead body inside. But she couldn't find the words, or the strength. Her voice was broken from screaming, her eyes dry from crying. She couldn't even begin to break down the horrors that she had seen, the terror that she had experienced. It had been a long day, and she was beyond any capable means of functioning. She could barely remember them helping her into this room with walls so light pink that they looked like the inside of a flower.

When she woke the next day, the sun was high in the sky, and her body was drenched in a cold sweat. She began to panic immediately, screaming at the sudden thought that Chip could walk through that door anytime; or maybe he had already been here, and that explained this cold, damp wetness that veiled her body. Either way, she let the sound explode in her lungs, screaming, kicking, crying hysterically. She was too delirious to realize that this wasn't that place; this wasn't where the monster resided.

In fact, she didn't realize it at all until Corny pushed through the door, his face molded into a mixture of shock and worry. He rushed toward her suddenly, grasping her flailing arms and holding her tight, his strong hands pushing her hair down, his voice whispering softly to her.

"Amber! Amber, calm down." He withstood the blows that she dealt him without realizing that it wasn't Chip, and his arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly as she sobbed against him. "Sweetheart, it's okay. It's all right." Her body went limp suddenly and he gathered her into his arms, his body moving slightly as he began to rock her like a child. "He's not here," even saying the words put a lump in his throat, and he tried to force it down as he felt her tears seeping through his shirt and into his skin, "He's not going to hurt you again, baby."

They stayed that way for a long time, and he held her like she was an oversized rag doll, his fingers stroking her matted blonde hair, charcoal tears dripping down her cheeks. She clutched at his shirt with her fingernails, desperate to get herself closer to him.

"Make him stop, Corny. Please, just make him go away," her whimpers were so soft and childish that it broke his heart, and she felt his hold strengthen around her. "I don't want to be hurt anymore," the words slipped from between her trembling lips, "He's already destroyed me, Corny."

She felt herself shuddering in his arms, and he let his chin rest against the top of her head, clenching his jaw tight.

"He's not going to hurt you again." That was his solemn vow. If it killed him, he'd make sure that man never laid a hand on Amber again.

She was silent for a moment, and her tears gave way to the soft, pathetic aftershock of sobs.

"He's probably going to come kill me." Her words were so soft that he almost didn't hear them. She swallowed hard against him, her knees pulled up into his lap. "But he doesn't know there's nothing left to kill. I'm already dead inside."

Her words sent a pain through his chest, and he hooked his fingers beneath her chin, gently directing her face up to look at him.

"Hey," his voice was so soft, "you are not dead inside. You're just a little broken, Amber."

She watched him with her large, empty eyes, but didn't make any attempt to acknowledge his words. She slumped against him again, squeezing her eyes shut and letting a solitary tear roll down her cheek. She didn't try to push it away.

"I'm more than a little broken, Corny." She whispered the words into the fabric of his shirt, "I'm shattered."

He let his teeth dig into his bottom lip, chewing on it while he held her.

"You just need a chance to start over, Amber." He felt odd saying the words to the girl who had once had the perfect life. The girl that had once scoffed at others for wearing the same dress to school twice a month; the girl who had turned her nose up at the prospect of dancing on the show with anyone who didn't stock fancy foods like caviar in their kitchen cupboards. She had been knocked down, and quickly. As tragic as it was, it was also heartbreakingly beautiful. "I'm going to help you start over, okay?" He was still rocking her now, his arms gathering her into a crumpled heap, "We are going to fix you."

She listened to his words, her head resting against his chest.

"You can't fix something that's beyond repair," she nodded slightly, "Corny, there's so much more than you understand. It's so much more horrible than you could imagine."

She sniffed against him, not bothering, or wanting, to move. It was an unimaginable bliss there in his arms; it was the kind of comfort she'd never gotten from anyone. Those arms were suddenly her haven, and she closed her eyes, another tear slipping down her cheek. She suddenly began to thank God for Corny. She was lucky that she had him, lucky that he cared enough about her to do this for her. The thought of what might have happened if she hadn't had Corny to confide in made her stomach feel queasy. It made her wounds ache, made the area between her legs begin to throb.

"What did Link do last night?" Amber wondered suddenly, still not moving. "Was he okay?"

"He's fine," Corny soothed her, "he stayed for a while after you fell asleep." He wanted to tell her how desperate his eyes had been, how lines of worry had creased his forehead, but knew he couldn't. The last thing she needed now was to know that she was worrying others. "He cares about you a lot, Amber."

She nodded against his chest, her eyes drooping.

"He's a good friend." She felt tired again suddenly, and let herself begin to nod off, her body going limp in his arms. Her fingers slid from their grasp on his shirt, and he cradled her body for another moment before sliding her back into the bed.

He pulled the blankets over her, letting his fingers stroke the unkempt hair that fell around her face. She sighed softly beneath his touch, and he curled his fingers into tight fists, shoving them into his pockets. It was hard to watch her like this; he had always seen Amber at her strongest points; she had always been brash, and irresponsible, and he had always considered her a nuisance. Seeing her like this, she was like a child again. She was so vulnerable, so completely heartbroken. It was painful, just to watch.

He wondered if she was curious that he'd cleaned out a spare bedroom at the back of his house for her. He had been hopeful, before he'd given her that key, that she would never need to use this room. He had been so sure that things would be different by now, and that she wouldn't need to run just to stay alive.

By the time Amber woke from the restless sleep she'd fallen back into, it was late afternoon. She finally found her feet and wondered into the living room. Corny looked up from reading the paper and lowered it slowly to his lap.

"What's wrong?"

Her throat was dry, and she could feel the mascara burning into her eyes from the previous night. She felt like she was the walking dead; her head was spinning, she was still exhausted. She knew she must have looked a mess, and she blinked at him.

"Listen, Corny," she let herself say the words slowly, "I'm not really in much of a position to be tossed around, you know?"

He arched an eyebrow at her, and she stumbled a bit, letting herself lean against the couch for support.

"I just…I need to know if you're serious about this, about me living in your house. Because if not, I have to find some place to go. I have to…have to, I don't know, get a job, and find an apartment. I can't go back there. I just can't." She was trying to push the words out of her mouth as fast as she could.

He studied her for a moment.

"What do you mean, 'get a job'?"

She swallowed hard.

"I've got to have money, Corny…I have to start saving so that I can eventually-"

"What happened to your council money?" He asked suddenly, shaking his head at her, "That should be enough to get you started."

She stopped, took a breath, and turned to look at him.

"What money?" She glared at him, and he studied the darkness under her eyes, the purple bruises on her neck. It suddenly hit him that she was right; she wasn't broken, she had been completely shattered.

"Amber, all of the council kids get paid for being on the show. You knew that….didn't you?" Although it was already obvious that she didn't.

She wanted to say yes; of course she knew it. She wanted to say anything at all, but could do no more than shake her head slightly.

"My mother," she finally whispered the words, nodding, "she never even told me." She couldn't help but laugh softly, rolling her eyes into the back of her head as she felt them beginning to burn with tears. "I've been on that show for five years. I danced through the pain that her asshole boyfriend inflicted on me. He almost broke my fucking ankle, and I still danced. He put me through so much shit, so much pain…And she doesn't think I deserve that money? That selfish bitch."

Corny swallowed hard, and Amber shook her head, looking away from him.

"I….I'm sorry," he didn't know what else to say, and suddenly felt awkward for even broaching the topic, "I really had no idea, Amber."

She clenched her jaw, nodding her head.

"Yeah, well apparently you weren't the only stupid one." She shook her head again, "No wonder she gave me so much money for my birthday. She's been stealing it from me for five years. This isn't even a percentage of what I should have gotten from her."

She felt the hatred rising in her throat, building in the space between her eyes and blinding her. She stood without another word and made her way to the bathroom, sinking onto the toilet seat and burying her head in her hands. She let herself scream, just the way she always had when Chip had touched her, forced his way into her. She let herself scream for the things he had stolen from her that she could never have back, cry for all of the years of emotional torture she'd have to undergo because of him and his filthy, disgusting self.

Tears of outrage burned her cheeks, and she took a moment, finally collecting herself enough to step into the shower and let the hot water burn her body. She let it pour over her, scrubbed at her skin so hard that she began to bleed. She couldn't get used to this dirty feeling, couldn't clean the filth from her.

By the time she was finished in the shower, she made her way into her bedroom. There was a small envelope on the bed, and she snatched it up, her fingers ripping open the back and pulling the piece of paper from inside. Her eyes scanned over the words.

Amber,

Went to pick up some food for dinner tonight, be back soon.

I locked the doors when I left. Someone's coming to install an extra deadbolt a little later.

Corny

P.S. Did you really think I was going to toss you around?

Believe it or not, I didn't paint the walls in this room pink because it's MY favorite color.

Amber, you're not living in my house.

You're living in our house.

Amber felt the breath escape her lungs, and let herself crawl onto the bed, hugging the paper to her chest and letting herself stare up at the blank ceiling. She buried her head in the pillow suddenly, letting herself inhale the aroma of the bedclothes.

This was what it felt like to finally be home.