A/N: And so we come to the end.
Kerrianne's eyes opened to darkness, complete and overwhelming. She fumbled for her iPod; the analogue at the top of the screen read 03:05. Sleepy, she rolled over and slipped again into unconsciousness, the cotton bandage wrapped around her hand soft against her cheek.
Kerrianne hit the floor of the car a split second before the first gunman opened fire. Her Ma pushed her - hard - out of the way, breath sharp and fast in Kerrianne's ear as she flung her body over top. Even with bullets ripping threw metal above her head, Kerrianne did not register why her Ma lay on top of her, or why her Da knelt over the both of them, a crushing weight, until it ended.
And then someone - Kerrianne thought it might be Trinny -screamed: "What the hell was that?"
The doors opened, grating on their hinges. The car, a broken mess, trembled as the people around her moved.
"What do we do?"
"What do we do? We can't stay here!"
"We don't know who they where or where they went."
"Aye. We need back up."
"We can't stay here, come on."
"Jacky-boy. Your call."
"Get up, Kerri," Her Ma said, voice tight.
Kerrianne crawled towards the open door on hands and knees, stumbling out into the cold night air. The wind wiped her hair; she smelled gun smoke and burning rubber and her legs buckled. She caught herself on her hands and knees, felt her skin break but strangely there was no hot rush of pain.
"Jesus," Trinny said.
Da scoped her up. For a moment, Kerrianne inhaled the lingering smell of cigarettes on his clothing and than her Ma and Trinny held her between them.
Ma's hands touched her face, looking her over. "Are you hit?"
Kerrianne blinked, eyes burning. Her Ma was shaking.
"Kerri!"
"What's wrong with her?" Trinny demanded, voice high. Afraid.
"She's in shock," Her Da said. "Fi, just...Keep her upright. Keep her moving."
"Aye, love."
They walked back; the men with their guns drawn, Kerrianne tucked tightly beneath her Ma's wing. They stumbled into the warm of the flophouse and Kerrianne noticed for the first time that she could feel her pulse leaping in her hand. She glanced down at her palm and screamed as she saw the shard of glass shoved beneath her skin.
Everyone jumped and stared at her - and she began to cry.
Again.
Her Ma swore in Gaelic and her Da grabbed her wrist, grip gentle, to examine her palm.
"Come on. Over here," He said, sounding tired and looking old.
He led her to the sink, an arm around her shoulder as everyone else crowded into the other room and someone ran to get Maureen. Ma followed them, arms wrapped around herself.
"What are you doing?" Kerrianne asked, wincing as he held her hand beneath a warm soft stream of water. She loathed the small sound her voice made. "You aren't going to pull it out?" She asked, incredulous.
"Kerri," Her Ma said, and as Kerrianne turned her head, her Da pulled the glass out of her palm. He was quick but the adrenaline that had kept her calm on the walk back had faded and Kerrianne felt everything; her pulse, the sensation of the glass moving beneath her skin, and the resounding pain.
The blood swelled around the cut. Kerrianne watched the red run over her hand, cradled in between her Da's rough palms, and slip down the drain.
Her Ma brushed a stray bit of hair back behind her ear, pressed a kiss against Kerrianne's temple. "I think you'll live, love."
Chibs sprung to life quickly; awake suddenly and with a start. The texture of this waking, instinctively different, he could pin to the woman cuddled close bedsides him. No man ever slept soundly with a partner. A bedmate meant sex, yes, and tossing and turning and snoring and cover-hogging and a bad nights sleep more often than not.
Fiona lay on her back next to him, head still pillowed on his arm. She studied the fingers of one hand, the twin resting on his other arm beneath the afghan.
"Whatch'a doing, Fi?" He asked, watching her sniff her fingertips.
"Good morning, love," Fiona said, turning to face him.
"Is it morning already?"
"Four-forty."
"That's not mornin.'" Chibs grunted, head finding the ball of her shoulder; a warm, comfortable substitute for a pillow. Fiona did him one better and cradled his head against her breast, fingers moving through his hair. He nestled in, past the gap of her shirt. His ear pressed up against her heart beat, listened to the steady pump of blood. "Why are you awake?"
"I can't seem to sleep too deeply these days."
"Your safe here, Fi. I wouldn't let you and Kerri stay with Kellan if I thought Jimmy might find you here."
"No. It's not that," Fiona whispered, her voice a brush of air on his forehead. "I couldn't sleep when Jimmy had us under lockdown. We were only getting one chance to get clear. Couldn't afford to miss it. My internal clock's just a bit screwy now is all."
"Everything's gone a bit screwy."
"Yeah," Fiona agreed, sighing. "I need to get up."
"Where you going?" Chibs asked, reluctantly sitting up and letting her go. Much to his disappointment, Fiona pulled her trousers on, did the buttons of her shirt up.
"I smell like sex. I need a shower."
"You smell bloody marvelous," He said watching her roll her eyes.
"Of course you think that. You're the one who just marked his territory."
"Last night was not about me marking my territory," Chibs said, feeling a little hot about the collar. "I didn't come here for sex. I came to make sure my wife and daughter -"
"Shh, love, I know that," Fiona said, in a tone meant to sooth. Gingerly, she sat back down next to him. "Doesn't change the fact that we needed to do it last night."
"How you reckon?"
"Reaffirmation of life."
Chibs wondered if Fiona thought of the drive-by or Jimmy when she said that.
"I needed you with me last night. And I need a shower this morning. Besides," Fiona pressed an open mouthed kiss to his ear, lips forming one of the best sentences Chibs had heard in a while: "There's an open invitation."
Fiona pulled her second of three shirts - something of Maureen's kindly lent - and a clean pair of pants out of the small overnight bag shoved in the corner. She peered down at Kerrianne, gratified to see her daughter off in the land of the fairies. Fiona smoothed back errand curls, pressed a kiss to her head. "Love you, little girl."
She opened the bathroom door to steam and an eager husband. His body warm behind hers beneath the spray, hands balanced lightly on her hips, gliding up along the silver scars, from where her belly stretched fifteen years ago to accommodate a baby, to palm her breasts. It's been a while since sex was more than a push and pull, a play for power. With no reason to be on her guard, Fiona goes limp and lazy.
"This good for you, darlin'?" Filip whispered into the back of her neck. His fingers found her nipple.
"Yeah, love. That's grand."
When Kerrianne woke up it took her a moment to register why the bed beneath her felt hard and unfamiliar. Than the events of the past few weeks came rushing back; a whirl of red and black, the crack of Jimmy's leather belt and the roar of bullets as they ripped threw metal. She reached for her Ma with trembling hands. Father Ashby only had the one spare bedroom with the hard double, which meant her Ma should have been curled up besides her.
Only she was not there.
The sheets on the other side remained tucked in, edges neat and crisp. Not slept in; the other side was not slept in and Kerrianne felt the first stirrings of panic, a hot coil of alarm that sent her tripping out of bed.
She stumbled into the hallway, blinking into the harsh light of the hall lamp. A beam of light eked out from under the loo door. Kerrianne heard the steady tap of water hitting tile and her Ma's laughter. Her Da said something, voice low and lost with the rush of water disappearing down the drain, and her Ma laughed again. Kerrianne's stomach dropped as she realized that her parent's where in the shower together, naked and...Oh, gross!
Kerrianne slunk back to bed, curled up in the middle, exhausted, and tried to block out the blurred edges of her memories from becoming sharper.
The last time her Ma went to bed with Jimmy, she'd left it bruised. Nothing suggested her Da would do...that, but Kerrianne still waited for the other shoe to drop (she wondered if the blow of disappointment would feel like a belt breaking upon her back when delivered, if it would leave her physically or emotionally winded). Ma seemed content to sink into her husband's arms, happy even to be there again. Accepting the affection like it was commonplace, and Kerrianne wished again for her Ma's bravery. For her Da's courage so she might put herself before the emotional bullet the next time the shot was fired.
She pressed her thumb to the roof of her mouth, thinking that she was both a Larkin and a Telford, so really if bravery and courage where inherited like eye color or hair texture or skin tone, shouldn't she have them in spades? The felt the cotton of the bandage on her chin. Remembered her Da tying it around the cut on her palm.
Kerrianne stopped sucking her thumb. She stared down at her hand, taking in both her broken nails and the crisp white of the bandage. Wondered what might happen if she acted brave. Would it eventually become second nature and natural?
Kerrianne never pretended to be something she was not, and she never took risks or chances. For every small cruelty Jimmy inflicted, there was a fantasy, childish, of how much better her real Da was. Getting to know the real man, the stranger in the shower with her Ma, seemed as perilous as dousing herself with Chum than swimming sans cage with sharks.
And of course, she realized that she was no stranger to her Da. He had six years of memories; her birth and her birthdays, her first steps and her first words, her first bruise and her first scrape.
But he would remain one to her if she did not do something.
Carefully, as if her newfound spark might fizzle out, Kerrianne pulled herself out of bed.
It was an ungodly hour as she crossed the upstairs hall - trying to ignore any sounds coming from the bathroom - and scampered down the stairs. She was going to put the kettle on and drink tea until her parent's came downstairs, so she could kiss her Da good morning for the first time in nine years.
A/N: If you like this story and haven't read any of Whoneedsasword's fan fiction, go check out her work at: u/4262423/Whoneedsasword.