A/N: Hi guys! So I'm not sure if you got this, but the last chapter of Fear of Falling really was the last chapter I had left. The story was supposed to end there. But, due to popular demand, I'm going to continue this story to where the movie ends, and I've also got a sequel planned! Be in mind it may take a while considering that I'm also working on other stories, and I'm working on YouTube videos and my portfolio for my animation and art. Chapters will not be posted regularly, but I will try my best to get them written as fast and awesome as I can! Thank you so much for sticking with me this far and all the reviews! You have no idea how much I appreciate it!
A WEEK LATER
Sarah had decided that Vanessa needed a whole new wardrobe. She couldn't keep wearing her tattered blouse and shorts, and her own clothes were far too big for her.
"Really, M-Ms. Hawkins, you d-don't have to do this," Vanessa protested as she and Sarah strolled into the local strip mall in the next town over.
"I told you, please, call me Sarah. And yes, I do. You need some proper clothing, dear, those rags won't hold up for long,"
The few stores they went to were thrift stores, and stores that took in other retailer's overstock. Vanessa didn't mind: she had no desire for the latest fashion or overpriced garments. To be honest, she had no taste in clothing, and no idea how she would be shopping if she had no preferences.
"Let's start by finding fabrics that you like, then we'll go onto style,"
Vanessa discovered her tastes were simple, almost sort of bland. She liked the feel of cotton, wool, denim, leather, and she didn't like anything that showed off a lot of skin, like tank tops, tube tops, and short skirts or booty shorts. The majority of what she chose covered up her legs, and half of her arms at least. Sarah did insist that she get some tank tops and shorts for sleepwear, as nights on Montressor did get hot. Her boots were in good condition, only having a few holes in the sole, yet Sarah had her choose two new pairs of shoes: a pair of flats and better boots. When they were finished and ready to go to Doc's house, she tried to pay for her own things. Sarah would have none of it, telling her the new wardrobe was a welcome back gift from her.
Jim had been waiting for the girls when they returned, a warm smile lighting up his features. He smiled much more than when he left all those months ago, and it'd only been a week. It was good to see him happy, his mother thought.
"Here, let me take those for you," the strong young man took the dozens of shopping bags and went to put them in their separate rooms.
"T-thanks again for t-taking m-m-me sh-shopping . . . Sarah,"
"You're absolutely welcome, sweetheart. It was so much fun! I can never take Jim shopping, just like every other teenage boy,"
Vanessa, surprised to say that she had fun as well, agreed to go shopping again soon, and headed off to her room to review her new clothing. Doc had given her a room on the second floor in the East Wing, close to the observatory. It was a good-sized room, with a queen bed – an actual bed, not to mention the softest bed she'd ever slept in – a brushed metal desk and chair, a vanity for applying makeup, and a dresser – also brushed metal. The best part of all, she had to admit, was that she had her own private bathroom. The first time she took a bubble bath in four years, she'd nearly died and gone to heaven.
Her bags were on her bed when she closed the door, and Jim wasn't anywhere in sight. Deciding to try on some of her new outfits, she emptied the paper containers onto the scarlet bed spread, then arranged them the way she had tried them on in the store. Some of them, like her night time ensembles, she put away into the dresser, and left out three outfits she had deemed her favorites. Vanessa removed the tattered, shrunken, and ratty clothes she'd been wearing a third of her life and slipped on a dark purple, three-quarter sleeved shirt with a U-neck and a pair of tan capri pants. The clothes weren't baggy, hugging the barely visible frame she had, but roomy enough to move in. Vanessa observed herself in a full-length mirror in the corner by her desk, finding that she looked quite normal and healthy. As an experiment, she removed her bandana and undid her braids so that her short, poppy red hair framed her heart shaped face.
A knock at her door did not deter her attention from the mirror, "Come in,"
The door opened and closed, and she heard a low whistle, "Well, hello gorgeous. Where did my Butterfly go?"
Vanessa jumped slightly at the sound of Jim's voice, thinking it was Sarah who had knocked, "Oh, I t-thought you were s-someone else,"
"Like who, a second boyfriend?" he joked, approaching her gradually, his eyes roaming over her body, taking in every detail. If it were any other man, her skin would be crawling, yet with him, she felt heat and butterflies course through her. He brought her into the circle of his arms, his eyes now stuck on her face. He ran his fingers through her hair, which was now soft as silk and tangle free, "You should wear your hair down more often,"
Vanessa chuckled and lifted her arms over his broad shoulders. "I c-c-can't stand it loose, it gets in m-my face,"
"I wanted to see if you would come for a rise on my solar surfer,"
She gave him a suspicious and skeptic look, pursing her lips and lowering her eyebrows over her honey eyes. His chuckle turned into a full out laugh, "I'll be very careful, not do anything crazy, and I'll make sure you won't fall, I promise,"
Biting her lips, she considered the pros and cons, knowing he would be cautious with her at all times. At last, she agreed to the ride, and they ran off together.
Jim's original solar surfer had been destroyed in the Inn fire, so he spent the last week creating a new surfer out of scratch like the genius he was. Vanessa helped him between filling out paper work and reinstating herself into the Montressor system, however, the most helpful thing she did was hand him tools. The surfer was docked in the landing underneath the observatory, a clear space where they could take off in any direction.
"I tested it out three times before now, so we shouldn't have any problems," he informed her, pushing the vehicle to the edge of the platform into the sunlight. The orange sails began to glow like scales, the sunlight's energy flowing through. She heard the whirl of the motor and rockets at its end, and as Jim brought her close enough, she stretched out a hand to touch the handle, feeling the electricity vibrate in her grip.
"Go ahead, hop on,"
"You p-p-promise you won't let me f-fall?" she inquired as she redid her braids and tied up the bandana.
"I swear,"
Taking a deep breath, Vanessa stepped on to the surfer, grabbing the handle with both hands. Jim got on behind her, encircling her in his arms, her back pressed to his chest.
"Ready?"
"R-Ready,"
ZOOM!
Memories of the stellar boat ride flooded back to her as the massive waves of wind pushed past her. Jim wasn't even going fast, yet her newly done braids came undone in the jets of air pushing past them. Vanessa felt his arms tighten around her as he sped up little by little. They flew over hills of rock and sand, even passing over an oil rig.
"Wanna try some manuvers?!" he asked, or rather, shouted.
The ride was just beginning to get boring, "Sure!"
This oil rig appeared to be the kind that didn't mind visitors, as long as you didn't go into any restricted areas. Vanessa gripped the handle bar, ready for him to go to town. That's exactly what he did – Jim flew past clanking machinery and whirring gears, flipping the surfer this way and that. Vanessa's smile grew wider with each passing turn and she laughed at his excited shouting and hollering.
"YA-HOO!" he yelled, pumping his fist in the air, "Ain't this fun?!"
She agreed with her own shouting. They made it past the rig and slowed down considerably, enough to be floating in mid-air. Vanessa carefully turned her back to the sail and faced Jim, "Why are we -?"
God, she is so beautiful, Jim thought, staring down at the girl in his arms. Her hair flowed behind her in poppy red waves, and her golden eyes shimmered in the setting sunlight. He loved everything about her – he loved the freckles that sprinkled her sun kissed skin, the scar on her right eye, the way she bit her lip when she was nervous, and even the innocent stutter that impaired her speech. He reached up to stroke her cheeks, which turned red at the slightest touch of him.
"How about that kiss?" he whispered, pushing her loose strands from her face. True to her name, butterflies erupted from her stomach and her breath caught in her throat, forbidding her from saying a word, so she nodded her agreement. Vanessa felt him close the very small space between them, one hand burying its fingers in her hair while the other cupped her cheek. Vanessa took hold of the edges of his jacket and pulled him forward until his lips pressed against hers in one sweet, perfect, Monstressor-shattering moment. Her head spun with ecstasy and bliss and every good feeling ever known to woman. All of her fears melted away with the touch of his lips, fearing about them, the future, her past, or even falling off of this solar surfer. She was in one golden moment with an amazing young man.
"And, finally, here is my observatory,"
The doctor lead Vanessa up the long, winding staircase to the highest point in the mansion, in the large, circular tower on the west side. The first thing she saw was the gigantic telescope on the far side of the room. The second thing she noticed was the skylight above. There was hardly a roof to the observatory. A thick sheet of glass sheltered them from any weather. It was night time when Doc finally showed her his overly large study, and the stars above looked amazing. Thousands and thousands of lights poked out of a black velvety surface.
Staring at them made her feel incomplete, remembering how she was once among them not too long ago.
"You have a v-very nice set up, D-Doctor," she complimented. Her gaze swept across many desks with scattered papers and utensils decorating the floors around them, the towering stacks of books that looked as if they would fall over any second, even a few potted plants that might have given the room life if they weren't brown and limp.
There was one part of the observatory that differed from the rest. A single desk on the side closest to the telescope had been cleared of any sort of paperwork. Pencils and mapping tools lay in neat, orderly spaces on the desk top, and a plush looking, high-back chair was tucked into the back.
"That is your desk," Doc answered her mind's question, "I thought, since you're going to be my assistant, you'd want to have your own workspace."
Vanessa's fingers brushed over the dark oak surface, imagining spending late nights pouring over maps and observing planets through that amazingly large telescope.
A small smile pulled at her lips, "Where do we start?"
"Well," Doc strolled to the other side of the room and collected several rolls of parchment, "Considering we've been in deep space for several months, I'd say we have some maps to update,"
Ye know ye love it.
Vanessa's brow furrowed in her sleep and her lips quivered. She switched her sleeping position to her side, only to go to her back again, then to her other side.
Shut up an' take it, little girl.
Her breathing shallowed, hitching every now and then.
Who wants to be havin' a bit o' fun with the cabin girl?
Aww, eyeball that, lads! She's so eager to get started!
Scream all ye want, nay one soul will save ye.
Her eyes snapped open and she screamed at the top of her lungs. Her breathing became ragged and tears slipped uncontrollably down her face. Her arms clasped around her, but it wasn't enough to cover her up. She tried to use the blankets to conceal every inch of skin, to keep the leering away from her body. It wouldn't go away; the seducing eyes and the whispers of flesh upon her own, the pain filling her from between her legs.
"Please stop," she whimpered, "Please go away, please,"
This is how Jim found her. He was the first to heard the screaming, his bedroom being right down the hall from hers. Knowing the scream all too well, he bolted from bed and ran down the empty corridor. He stopped at her bedside, almost running into the end table and making the lamp fall, which he turned on to cast the darkness away.
"Vanessa?" he panted, "What happened? What's wrong?"
Vanessa shook her head and continued weeping. Jim didn't want to touch her for fear of triggering something, so he sat beside her and whispered consoling words and phrases into her ears. It wasn't five minutes later when Doc and his mother showed up at the threshold. Doc, his nightcap barely hanging off his ears and wearing bunny slippers, held a candle in his palm and was the first to enter.
"We heard a scream," he announced, "What happened?"
"I think she had a nightmare," Jim answered. Vanessa had begun to lessen up on her hysterics enough to lower the blankets from her shoulders. Jim crawled closer to her and slowly wrapped his arm around her, letting his fingers trace circles on her arm. She continued to quietly plead those who wronged her sexually to stop. Doc and Sarah made themselves comfortable on the edge of her bed, hoping the presence of friendlies would calm her down. To their happiness it worked, and after she fell back asleep, eyes dry but slightly red, and breathing returning to normal, Jim pulled himself away in a manner not to disturb her, and while she did whimper a bit, she didn't wake up. The three of them retreated to the hallway.
"That poor girl," Sarah whispered, her hand held over her heart, "I can't imagine what she went through,"
"I don't know how she's going to live a normal life. She'll be guarded at all times from any physical contact. It's no way to live," Doc responded.
Jim stayed quiet, staring at his love's sleeping body. She stayed motionless, peaceful. He hoped she would stay like that through the rest of the night.
Maybe I should stay with her for the night, he thought, Just in case she wakes up again.
"Jim?"
Jim returned his attention to the adults, "I'm sorry, what?"
"We were just talking about maybe sending Vanessa to a psychiatrist," Sarah repeated, "I might help her to talk about the abuse she's been through, and they might have some way to help her repress or let it go. What do you think?"
Shrinks? Really? Did those actually work? He wasn't sure, he'd never been to one. He also didn't know whether she'd want to talk about the . . . unspeakable events. It certainly took him a while to coax them out of her.
"It might help," he answered with a shrug, "We can ask her in the morning,"