The authors note shall be at the end this time. THE OOC HAS A POINT. I SWEAR.
Here goes:
When we arrived back at the mansion I found my father waiting for me in the parlor. He took one look at Tamaki, told him that I would soon catch up. Tamaki wandered off to my room where we would be sleeping after smiling meekly at my father. I stepped into the room tentatively and stood before my father with a rather grim expression. The happiness that Tamaki had brought to my troubled mind quickly faded to a feeling of intense nervousness.
"Close the window before the rain ruins the floor," my father ordered from the couch.
I walked over to the window and peered out. The rain had finally started up and was coming down in sheets such that I could barely see three feet in front of me. The thick droplets struck me hard across the face and when I turned around I was rather wet. My father looked un-amused.
"You left the house."
"Yes,"
"I demand to know why you chose to disobey a direct order."
"I couldn't stay here…"
I was standing before him, about an arms length away, with my glasses half opaque and my bangs in my eyes. I was wet all down my face and upper torso. Add in the complexion of an insomniac and I knew I must've looked like a mess. He sighed and grabbed my arm, tugging me down so that I sat beside him.
"I am acting as your doctor, your psychiatrist, and your father. I need you to tell me what's going on." he said softly. It was strange to see him being so gentle with me. Well, more gentle than usual. I felt a kind of need to tell him things, and so I did.
"I was ok with the memories while I was physically doing something but as soon as I lay down to sleep I could feel her and see her. When my mind was the only thing working she was there to drive me insane." I said quietly, looking down at the floor.
"Were you asleep when you saw her?"
"I was awake and have been for about fifty-six hours."
This time my father cringed.
"Why did you stay awake for so long?"
"I had work to do for you, for school, and for the host club… and then with this new development hanging over my head I've been completely terrified of my own mind." I explained tentatively. I didn't like revealing my weaknesses to anyone, let alone him, and so I was highly uncomfortable. There was silence for a moment as we both stared blankly out into the tempest.
"You do know your work shouldn't cause you to become physically ill correct?" he asked me, without turning to face me.
"That is a luxury I cannot afford if I wish to succeed. I won't grow seriously ill of course, but a slight cold and some sleep deprivation never killed anyone." I said levelly. His attempt at kindness was rather strange. I assumed he knew how hard I usually worked for him and him alone. I couldn't believe that his words were more than pleasantries.
"I couldn't sleep so I called Tamaki and we met at school." I said dryly. He looked at me for a moment before reaching up to my face. I cringed away but he grabbed the front of my shirt to hold me still.
"I won't hurt you." he growled as he brushed my bangs aside to reveal the cut in my forehead. It had stopped bleeding at the time but I knew the must have been blood caked along the edges of the small wound. His hands were cold -much colder than my mothers, I noted- and well worn with age.
"You tried to induce amnesia." he said coldly. I pulled away and nodded.
"What you did makes little medical sense. I'm sure you thought that if one concussion made you forget and another made you remember another still would take the memoires back. This idea is wrong and dangerous. Now that your memories are returning you will not be able to stop them." he explained in his usual patronizing manner. I scowled and looked away.
"Will I keep having these flashbacks?" I asked spitefully.
"I can only assume so. Or rather, you will until you remember everything not just bits and pieces."
His voice was soft, guarded, and meant to be comforting. I sighed and continued to scowl at my shoes until I felt his hand on my shoulder, pulling me to face him. When I turned, it was not him I saw.
I saw her again and jerked away violently.
He looked rather hurt but I knew he would understand my position. I told him how I could feel her hands on my body almost all the time and that her image would come before my weary eyes and obscure reality. I told him how his smell, the scent of brandy and cigar smoke, was being replaced by her cherry-tart scent even as we spoke, although her scent was far less overpowering than usual.
"I want you to tell me everything you've remembered and to spare no detail." He said when I finished. My shoulders slumped and my brow furrowed as he spoke. I couldn't tell him that. Not everything. It was vulgar, disgusting, sick, and twisted. I didn't want him to know all that she had done to me.
I feared he would think less of me for it.
"I'm worried about you."
Magic words, so out of character, so… so… sweet to my ears. It was what I'd always wanted him to say. I'd always craved his affection. Or even just his attention be it good or bad. Here he was, trying to talk to me and worrying about me and I couldn't drop my guard for even a second. I forced myself to take a chance.
I told him everything; starting with the fact that she had raped me on more than the one occasion that he saw and ending with how whenever someone made any kind of physical contact that reminded me of her, I would be forced to see her image rather than reality. Of course, I left out the fact that I had been making out with Tamaki. I knew he wouldn't take that as well as he took everything else. Once he knew the extremities of my situation he let his head droop and his hand found his way to my hair, which he ruffled insistently.
I was surprised that his presence seemed to be warding off her image. Although as we sat in silence and I thought about it, it only made more sense. She would never do anything uncouth to me in front of him and thus now that I was near him her memory could do no more than follow suit.
"Do you feel her now?" my father asked softly as he removed his slim-fingered hand from my hair.
"No, your presence wards her off both in real life and in my memories." I explained. Lightning flashed and cast an eerie glow about the room. Thunder shook the walls and I found myself moving closer to my father unconsciously.
He waited a moment before speaking again, "What you said suggests that you do not feel as though the memories are a reality."
I didn't answer but instead let my body slump over. My shoulders drooped and my eyes fell to the floor. I knew I must've looked defeated but I knew that for once my father wouldn't use it against me. Thunder boomed yet again and I shivered.
My father reached around my thin neck and pulled me so that my head rested on his shoulder. I was taken aback by this action but still... he smelled so pleasant and I was so tired. I hadn't slept at all in days and I hadn't slept well in weeks. The thought of him warding off the memories of my mother was so tempting to me that I couldn't force myself to move. I simply laid there curled against his shoulder like a child.
"What happened to you all those years ago is real, even if it feels like a bad dream," thunder clapped as he mumbled his words of wisdom into my ear. I shuddered again and he managed to pull me even closer.
"I know," I mumbled. I was feeling insecure and nervous being so close to my father. I was happy to know he loved me but the idea was still new to my overworked brain. We sat in silence as I pulled my legs up onto the couch and folded them beside me. It was kind of comfortable being curled up like that. I began to nod off as my father held me comfortingly.
"How do you keep her from coming back here?" I asked softly, slipping off my glasses. I knew taking off my glasses was usually a bad idea- after all, I couldn't hide my eyes without them- but I supposed in that moment that I didn't need to. I knew that for once he really wasn't going to hurt me.
That one thought sent a tingle of sadness down my spine. Just when had I started thinking of him of him as someone who would hurt me? When has I stopped considering the idea that he might actually love me? When did I become my father's tool? When did I start thinking of our family as a business?
For once I didn't have the answers. But at least my father had an answer for my initial question.
"She doesn't want to ruin her life. Right now she has everything she could ever want- except you," he explained, I knew he felt me shudder yet again at his implication, "Currently, she resides in her own home where she is free to do as she wants, save return to japan. She has no job and no spending limits. In short, her life is perfect and carefree so long as she does not anger me."
I let all this sink in as we once again lapsed into silence. There was one question that had been plaguing me since our first serious discussion, but I didn't dare ask. I wanted to know what he'd walked in on and just what she'd been doing to me. I somehow knew she'd done something different that time- something even more sinister.
Still even Ohtoris have limits. I was truly exhausted beyond measure and my father's shoulder was surprisingly comfortable... My tired eyes blinked closed in protest to my complicated chain of thought and my grip on my glasses relaxed. I nodded off and curled against him like I hadn't done since my earliest days. And yet I managed not to flinch when he shifted my half-asleep form so that my head rested in his lap. I was barely conscious as he placed his hand against my head, letting it rest there as a rather stiff gesture of comfort. He took my glasses from my hand and slipped them into his pocket. I have no recollection of precisely how long I lay there. All I know is that when he finally decided to move me he elected to carry me. I was seventeen and he was carrying me. In my mind that was either a testament to my pathetic underweight body or to his strength. At the time I was too fatigued to even be surprised. In retrospect, however, I can only say that he must really have pitied me or else he wouldn't have bothered. To add to my later mortification, I have a distinct memory of curling against his chest as he carried me bridal style. None of this, however, mattered in those long foggy moments. I was just so... sleepy...
He carried me up into my room and even up the stairs into my bed loft. I was vaguely aware that Tamaki was sprawled out atop the covers of my bed as my father placed me down. I heard the click of my glasses against my nightstand as I lay there tiredly. I tugged a blanket over my shoulders and curled up in the bed. My eyes fluttered open as I prepared to speak.
"Dad?" The word felt strange to me. I'd never called my father dad before. I heard a rather sharp intake of breath as my father registered this fact.
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
Two words, a world of meaning. He knew that I was thanking him for everything; telling him that I did trust him, telling him that our family was capable of love.
"You're welcome."
I was terrified to say the words that came to mind. I wanted to say it. I wanted the words to be real. I wanted him to hear. I was scared, but I had to do it, before I talked myself out of it.
"I love you," I practically whispered.
"I love you too," his voice was strained as if the words were foreign to him.
He meant it. I finally knew that he meant it. If I'd had the energy to I would have been dumbfounded. Instead, I tugged my pillow close to me and passed out.
Fifty-six waking hours, twelve questions, a few odd shudders, and the ice was finally cracking.
A/n: ok, firstly, the delay between these two chapters was because I had finals and then the flu. secondly, my english class has always insisted that water equals rebirth therefore there has been a buildup of symbolism over the last two chapters. did anyone notice or do i just fail at life? thirdly, I'm terrified of posting this chapter... I literally had a spazztic breakdown over this chapter. I'm so worried it's badly done or that the characters are too out of character... ohh~~~~~~! I'm so nervous! P-please don't ream me DX
