This is the first chapter of the rewrite! I combined the original first two chapters, and changed some details. I hope you all enjoy this, and again, sorry for the wait!

-Xena (thisisreallystupid)

For the first few months I fought back. I fought back with everything I had. But no matter what I did, he would always win…

He hit me a lot in the beginning, not that he ever stopped….but it was worse back then. Back when I went against everything he said, when I still thought that being strong meant openly rebelling against him. I didn't realize how wrong I was until it was almost too late, and I almost pushed him too far.

I had been an idiot. I kept trying to pick fights with him. Constantly trying to push my limits, to see how far I could get.

He'd already beaten me so that I had at least three cracked ribs, a broken nose, a sprained ankle, and a dislocated shoulder. My body was covered in countless bruises as well, some of them old, some of them new. Lying on the floor, I could barely stand, let alone put up any semblance of a fight. But that didn't stop me from trying.

As he was walking out of the room, I managed to struggle to my feet. Despite barely being able to breathe, I said to him, "I hate you. I will always hate you. And you will never break me."

I had said those words so many times. But that time it was different. I wasn't screaming at him, I wasn't trying to hit him. In fact, I wasn't trying to upset him in anyway. I was simply stating a fact.

As he turned around the expression on his face made my resolve falter, and I felt my stomach drop. Unable to hold myself up, I collapsed to my knees.

He walked towards me calmly, taking his time before kneeling in front of me. Reaching forward, he softly stroked my cheek, before trailing down to stroke my wing. "We could be so happy you know. The two of us could be so powerful together; we could take over the entire world if we wanted. All you have to do is stop fighting, and listen to me. You do that, and I'll give you anything…within reason of course."

I was so tempted to stop struggling, and give into him. But, I didn't, and I think he realized that, because next thing I knew he had grabbed me by my hair and yanked me towards him. "You need to start listening to me, and soon, because my patience is getting thin. And if I have to, I'll have your wings cut off, and don't think I'll be kind enough to put you under for it either." He then let go of me, and walked out of the door.

Shaking slightly, all I could do was curl into a ball.

It was at that moment when I realized that I couldn't keep on going this way. I was at my breaking point. But, I hadn't lost all the fight in me. That said, I also realized that if I were to get out of there alive, and whole, I would need to be smarter.

So I started to go along with what he wanted. And, as a result, I slowly began gaining his trust. After awhile he even began giving me more freedom, believing that I had begun seeing things his way.

I was able to do practically anything I wanted, as long as he agreed to it. But, I learned to read him, which allowed me to know when was a good time to ask for something, and when wasn't.

...

About two years after the incident he paid to have us married, and moved us to an upper-class neighborhood.

He loved parading me around in public, making sure I was seen as the perfect wife. Sometimes he even went as far as having the neighbors come over for dinners, and barbeques. Although he never said so, I knew that he did it to demonstrate his complete control over me.

He controlled everything. Even as I stood in front of the mirror, at six-thirty in the morning, I was making sure my makeup and hair looked perfect, because he didn't want me looking like a "pig".

Sighing, I walked into my daughter's room. Good, she's still asleep, I thought, brushing hair blond hair out of her face.

I couldn't help but smile. Not in the six years that I spent in this hell hole had I ever broke. My own daughter's name was proof of that. Before I was captured, Fang and I both loved the name Alex, so we agreed that whoever had a child first, would get to use that name.

Gently I adjusted the blankets around her small frame; I frowned, when I saw a bruise on her thin arm. Grinding my teeth together, I tried to calm down. It'd just end up worse if I freaked out. I shook my head, trying to dispel the anger that was building inside of me.

I made my way to the kitchen, where I pulled out a frying pan, as I got ready to serve him breakfast. He had decided after awhile that I should start cooking for him because, "that's what good wives did".

When he finally woke up and made his way downstairs, I was chopping mushrooms for an omelet.

He frowned when he saw what was on the plate I handed him, "I don't want an omelet today,"

I don't know why, maybe it was remaining anger about Alex's bruise or maybe I was just having an off day, but I couldn't help the sarcasm as I replied, "Sorry"

He slapped me, hard. And it hurt like hell, but I refused to touch my cheek. Instead I looked back at him, "Do you want me to make something else?"

He studied me harshly for a moment, "You wouldn't have to make me something else, if you'd done it right the first time."

I forced myself to flinch, and lowered gaze, "I'm sorry."

"You know, I don't think you are." He said, taking a step closer, effectively pinning me against the counter. "It's been awhile since I've punished you for anything, perhaps I need to remind you of your place." With that he punched me in the face.

Backing away, he left just enough space for me to turn to the side and cup my face. I was getting ready to receive another blow, when I spotted the knife I'd been using earlier.

When he went to grab my arm, I snatched the knife from the counter and plunged it into his chest. Yanking it out, I felt no remorse as I watched him fall to the floor. As his blood soaked the floor, I watched as he began to fade away. Unable to resist myself, I bent down and whispered in his ear, "I told you, you'd never break me."

Then I dropped the knife and went upstairs to get my daughter.

With Alex in my arms, I grabbed the cordless phone from the master bedroom, and dialed 911. After explaining to the operator that my husband was dead, I went to sit on the outside stairs leading to the front door.

As I waited for the police, I rocked Alex back and forth, murmuring in her ear over and over, "I love you baby. Don't you ever forget it, I'll always protect you."

"love you to mommy," Alex replied, her speech slurred from being half asleep. I smiled, and continued to rock her, until she fell back asleep.

Soon several police cruisers showed up, along with an ambulance. Immediately, two police officers rushed up to me.

"Hello ma'am, we're here –" the shorter one started.

"He's in the kitchen." I interrupted him. Nodding, they went in, with two paramedics quickly following.

The sole female officer came up to, "Ma'am, are you alright?"

I wanted to make some snarky reply, because it was obvious that I wasn't. But when I looked at her, all I saw was compassion, and all I could manage was a simple, "No."

She nodded, then reached out a hand to help me stand, "Here, let's go over to the ambulance to have you and your daughter checked out, ok?"

I ended up sitting in the back of the ambulance with Alex for what felt like an eternity, before we were finally taken to the hospital. I was in complete shock, and all I knew was that I wasn't being arrested yet.

…

The investigation seemed to drag on and during it, everything came to light. As a result of my situation, and the fact that it was in self-defense I ended up not being charged with anything.

The police offered to help me find my family, and I took them up of their offer. Unfortunately, because the flocks' information was classified, it was going to take awhile to find them without getting the FBI involved. So, to sort of make up for that, they arranged to have me and Alex's surname changed to Ride.

I couldn't stand living in that house anymore because of everything that happened there, so I sold it and everything in it. Asking them to keep me updated, I decided to move.

Using that money I went to the town that my mom lived in. Honestly, I didn't expect her to still be there, but that didn't mean I wasn't disappointed when I found out she'd moved two years before. But, I didn't' have anywhere else to go, so I stayed there. I got a two bedroom apartment, a job waitressing, and enrolled Alex in preschool.

I wasn't stupid enough to believe that everything was going to end up perfect. But I hoped that maybe things would end up ok.

I wanted more for my daughter. I didn't want her to have to deal with the crap I had to. I didn't want her to end up like me, with nightmares every night, unable to trust almost everyone, barely able to go into town without being afraid of everyone. She deserved a better life than that. I loved her so much, I would die for her, and every night I would hold her and tell her that.

It was several months after we'd moved to Arizona, and Alex looked up at me, her clear sea green eyes wide, "Mommy, when's daddy coming home?"

It took me several seconds to get over the shock of that question, "Daddy's gone, baby. He's not coming back."

I thought she was going to cry, but instead she just looked thoughtful, "Good, I didn't like him, he hurt us,"

Tears came to my eyes, "Oh baby," I enveloped her in a hug.

Alex wiped a tear from my face, "Why are you sad?"

I laughed, "Oh, no, Alex, I'm not sad. I'm just happy,"

She nodded, "Good, cause I don't like it when you're sad,"

Smiling, I pulled her closer to me, "I love you, Alexandra Hope Ride, don't you ever forget it." She nodded, her eyes starting to droop. I knew she was fighting sleep. "Go to sleep baby," I whispered in her ear.

She kept fighting it, but finally Alex fell asleep.

I held her close, as she slept. She was the reason I didn't kill myself while I was in that hellhole. She was the reason I kept living.