This took so long to write that I literally wrote two other chapters instead of this…yeah. This one was hard. It's so negative and I was in a very positive writing headspace, so I figured I'd write happy chapters while I felt like that. Angst here I come, I guess…

Related to positive, PMs are working, yay!

Also, Ruin came out! And...I LOVE it SO MUCH!? I was not expecting the turn it took but it's so cool? Like the style and the gameplay and the VISUALS? It's totally what I pictured security breach being like back in like 2019 when the teasers were in the VERY early stage. I won't spoil anything, but seriously check it out if you haven't got some reason!

Song: Love on the Brain! Maybe my favourite Rihanna song! Don't understand why they keep playing it at events for children though…it's so obviously about abuse…

And speaking of that…warning: domestic abuse :( that's why it took me so long to write and you can probably see my procrastination in the text. I'm ok with how it turned out though.

Enjoy…I guess?

Chapter 109

Love On The Brain

Their room was the same as it was when they'd left it, with their suitcases spilling clothes and bed freshly made. But it didn't seem to belong to them anymore. The old room belonged to a man and a woman, the new room belonged to a pair of murderers.

"Here. I got you Tylenol." William came in with a little white pill and a cup of water. He was changed into a white T-shirt and black joggers. She sat on the bed, swallowing the medicine. Maybe it was the placebo effect, but her headache seemed to disappear in place of simple fatigue.

He came and sat beside her. "So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Are you joking? What do you think?" The shock was beginning to dissipate and reality was setting in. "We're killers, William. We killed Phillip."

"Yes, I was there," he said drily.

"Well? Don't you have anything to say about that?"

He was silent for a moment, then shifted his weight, making the springs creak. "Do you even know what he called you? He said you were a dumb slut. You didn't do anything like that at all. It wasn't your fault he couldn't keep his repulsive hands off you."

Clara shook her head. Her eyes pricked with tears that slid down her cheeks. "It's still my fault. If I hadn't gone with Phillip, he'd still be alive, and we wouldn't be in this situation."

"What situation? As far as the police know, he slipped and snapped his neck. Disgustingly rich old man dies in a terrible accident, weather at nine." William took one of her curls and gently wound it around his finger. "Don't cry. It'll be okay, my love."

"I just wanna sleep," she mumbled. "I don't wanna think about it anymore."

"Do you want to get out of that dress?" She nodded. He helped her change into a hot pink top and matching shorts and wiped her makeup off with a cold cloth. Then, he turned out the light and spooned her under the covers. "I love you." He stroked her back. "I hope you don't have nightmares."

"Mm."

"If you do, I'll push them down the stairs." Clara could hear the smile in his voice, and she couldn't help but copy.

"Try not to get caught."

~lll~

Clara loaded the clothes into the washing machine, while the kids sat on the long laundromat benches and ate drive-thru pancakes and syrup with sticky lips and watched the television playing the news on mute. William typed on his laptop.

"Do you need any help, Mum?" Evan asked.

She smiled, feeding tank tops into the machine. "No, but thank you."

Elizabeth suddenly began to shriek with laughter, followed by choking noises. Worried, she turned around, then sighed. "Take that off."

"NOOO!" She screamed, spraying chewed-up pancake crumbs everywhere and making everyone look at her. Which was unfortunate since she was holding a bra to her chest and standing on top of the bench. Michael unhelpfully snapped photos on his digital camera. She finally managed to wrestle it off her daughter and stuff it in the machine.

William closed his laptop. "Well, our trip was cut short by the owner dying, so what would you lot like to do?"

"He died?" Michael asked. "What happened? Did you kill him?"

"Yes."

"WHAT?!" The kids yelled in unison.

He started laughing and Clara smacked his shoulder, though her heart was pounding. "Hush! Your father is joking, kids, though he's not very funny."

"I think you're funny, Daddy." Elizabeth said loyally, wiping her finger in the syrup cup and sucking it off.

"Thanks, dear." He opened his laptop back up.

"Anyways, there's a lovely beach down west, if you'd all like to go. I made sure to pack your swimsuits." Clara suggested.

"In the ocean?" Evan asked.

"Yes, where else?"

"But it's barely spring. Plus, I don't like the ocean."

"Oh goodness. Evan, why not?"

"He doesn't like sharks," Michael said with a grin. "With their razor fangs and thirst for blood. Did you know that they can smell fear from a hundred miles away?"

"They can?" Evan squeaked.

Clara rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Obviously not! You knew that. You're so good at animal science."

"Not sharks." His voice trembled. "I hate sharks. And crabs. And jellyfish."

Michael smirked. "There's jillions of jellyfish out there. I'm not even lying. Joseph said he stepped on one and the bottom of his foot dimpled up like a bunch of little suction cups. Hurt like hell. Imagine that, but on your whole body."

"Someone would have to pee on you," Elizabeth whispered, making spooky hands.

Evan looked more frightened at the prospect of pee than fatal jellyfish stings, so Clara intervened. "You don't have to swim if you don't want to, love, but I think you should come anyway. Hurricane doesn't have many beaches, and it's our last day in California."

"Okay," he said, still unnerved. "But I'm staying far away."

"You can stay with your father. Right, Will?"

"Mm."

"Will? Hello?"

"Mm-hm."

"Will, I'm thinking of shaving my head and joining a nudist colony. You wanna come too?"

"Mm-hmm!"

"I wanna join the nudist colony!" Elizabeth yanked off her shoes and her cardigan and luckily Clara stopped her before it became a felony.

Finally, he looked up. "What did you say?"

"She wants you to take off your clothes," Evan piped up.

William raised his eyebrows.

Clara face-palmed. "Ignore him. What're you doing there, anyways?"

"Just writing an email for work. It's about that advertisement I told you about?"

"Right." She racked her brain, but the events of last night were foggy. Well, except for the notable one. "What advertisement?"

"The animated one? That they needed child voice actors for?"

Elizabeth perked up and glanced away from the television. "Child voice actors? I wanna voice act!"

Clara waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, I don't want your name out there, honey. The industry's an awful business."

"No it's not." Michael's eyes were dreamy. "You get money and cars and sexy models all over you."

"You might even get pushed down a flight of stairs," William whispered into her ear.

"Opposite of funny," she whispered back.

"I'll tell the company you two are interested," he said, more loudly this time.

"Me too," said Evan, playing with a frayed bit on his shirt. "I don't mind acting as long as I'm not in it."

"You want to be in it too, Clary?"

"I'm okay, thanks."

Suddenly, Elizabeth burst into giggles, pointing at the TV in the corner. "Look at that funny man! Why's he so fat?"

"Elizabeth! We do not make fun of others' bodies!" Clara scolded.

William coughed. "Look who it is."

She looked up. Phillip's face stared back at her.

Holding back a gasp, she squeezed her eyes shut. Images flashed beneath her eyelids. His hands grabbing. William pushing. Him falling down, down, down, and landing with that sickening crunch. The bones in his neck, she didn't know what they were called, were jutting out at oblique, wrong angles.

"Clara? Hey, Clary. Wake up." William nudged her. "What's the matter with you?"

She blinked her eyes open, flooding the world with pictures. Everything was foggy, the washing machines blurred and the hum of conversation all seemed so far away. "N-nothing." Ugh, I have got to work on that stuttering problem.

"Right. Wouldn't have something to do with our Tokelove-ing friend, would it?" He grinned. "That's why you shouldn't do drugs, see, because you never know which handsome Englishman and his exquisite jewel of a wife might shove him down some stairs."

"For goodness' sake, quiet!" She hissed. "Why does your mouth always have to do that thing where it ruins everything?! It's one thing if you're stupid in front of the children, but these people could know!" Looking around frantically, nobody was staring at them. Nobody was staring at them, sure, but what if it was because they didn't want to even look at the vile creature she'd turned into, and instead they were whispering behind folded piles of delicate dresses and baby blankets about how this foul woman killed him, she'd killed a man in cold blood and raked over his face with eyes just as dead and laughed at the jokes her husband made about it. They could know! They could know!

"Could know what?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes, could know what?" William replied smoothly. His silver eyes were narrowed, and she could hear his deep drole in her ear. Don't mess this up, Clary-bell.

"Oh, nothing. Must've been speaking out loud." She laughed, but it came out high and panicky, even to her own ear. She could feel her heartbeat in her head. It pounded relentlessly not like Phillip's

Shut up!

"Clary? You're giving the children a fright when you talk to yourself that way." William said, an edge to his voice.

"Schizo-o-o," Michael fake-coughed.

Okay, now she was starting to frighten herself. No more thoughts. "It's the humidity, that's all. Can't wait to be back home in dry, dry Utah."

"I thought you said you liked California cos of the beach," Elizabeth complained.

"Well, we couldn't live near beaches our whole life, could we? Evan would be such a wreck." She frowned. "Hold on. Where's Evan?"

"Nowhere," said Michael, moving to stand in front of a washing machine.

Clara crossed her arms. "Okay, then what's inside that washing machine?"

"Like Mikey said! Nothing!" Elizabeth insisted as she climbed on top of it and stood up like she was protesting. Now people were staring at them, and it wasn't just her imagination.

Suddenly, there was a bang from the machine and a pale fist was being thrust against the door. "Did you lock your brother in the washing machine," Clara deadpanned, while William cackled unhelpfully behind her.

"We've been spotted!" Elizabeth crowed. "Quick, turn it on!"

"Michael, stop your sister and I'll give you ten dollars."

"Can do." He wrestled his sister off while she slapped her hands over her ears and screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Hey, at least people aren't staring at you anymore." William pointed out.

And so, Michael stuffed Elizabeth's mouth so full of gum that she drooled all over her shirt and had to be changed into her bathing suit since she didn't have any more clean clothes. Clara got a sobbing Evan out of the washing machine, calmed him down by buying him a sparkly hamster keychain, then calmed him down again after Elizabeth ate said keychain. Then she calmed down everyone since Michael, who was so irritated by his brother's constant whining about the beach, had shown Evan a nightmarishly gory video of a crazed shark ripping open a group of tourists, and the younger boy had promptly fallen unconscious. Except he'd passed out on Elizabeth, who screeched like her head had been torn off, and then William said he was going to feed them all to the sharks, only Evan had just woken up when he'd said that and he passed out all over again. She had to calm herself down after William kept making jokes about the events of last night. She bought everyone ice cream as a consolation.

They did end up going to the beach, but after everything that happened, Clara didn't even feel like swimming, so she lay on the beach with a petrified Evan and an unfunny William and soaked up the sun. She figured she might as well get a tan while she was there. Michael played with his sister and stopped her from eating the sea creatures, but she distracted him by pointing out a group of women in skimpy bathing suits and gobbled up a whole galaxy of starfish. William just sat there and made cruel remarks about every person who walked by them until Clara finally snapped and called him a bitch which shut him up quick.

It was a quiet ride home, which she'd normally like if the tension wasn't so thick she could practically smell it. Like seaweed and sweat and stale French fries.

They bought takeout burgers, which Clara mostly picked at, her appetite gone after thinking of shark attacks and Phillip's neck and all the slimy starfish her daughter ate. William, however, seemed to be eating fine, finishing off his double cheeseburger and helping himself to the rest of her chicken burger.

Good for him.

Clara stuffed the leftover onion rings into the mini-fridge. "Okay, Michael, help your siblings with their bath and then you can take a shower, then bedtime at eight-thirty for you two and whenever for Michael. If you need us, we're two doors down."

"Actually, do not visit us." William said suddenly. "Not even if it's an emergency."

"Not even if a shark comes out of the bath and eats us?" Elizabeth gasped.

"There's sharks in the bath?" Evan asked, lower lip wobbling.

"Yup, big ones, they crawl right out of the drain and chomp open your stomach and eat all the chewed-up burgers and drink all your blood."

"That's not true, dear, your sister's just trying to scare you. Will, what are you talking about? Of course they can visit us."

"Not tonight."

"Why?"

He stared at her emotionlessly.

"Gross," Michael said. "I think I'd rather be eaten by a bath shark."

"I thought they weren't real!" Evan cried.

"Scrub-a-dub-dub, into the tub!" Elizabeth sang, skipping out of the room and dragging him by his wrist. Evan screamed bloody murder the whole way to the bathroom.

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose as he watched his siblings. "Please use protection."

"Now look who's being gross," Clara retorted, but something about William's strange expression told her he wasn't thinking anything like what he was implying, though she'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious.

William nodded to her. "Come on. I want to talk to you about something."

She followed him down the hallway, arms crossed around her chest and hunched back showing her nervousness.

He closed the door behind them, then turned, his eyes icy. "What the hell was that?!"

Clara blinked. "What was what?"

"You referred to me as a bitch. That's the second time I've ever heard you swear, and the first was when we killed somebody. I hardly think anything I did excuses that."

"Well," She gathered her courage. "You were being a bitch. I didn't know what else to say."

"Huh." He nodded, clenching his jaw and pulling his tongue over his teeth.

She found the need to explain herself. "You've been torturing me all day by making jokes about a human being we…you know! I've been a wreck since last night, and you're just acting like it's just another Tuesday!" A horrible thought struck her. "You haven't done this before, have you?"

He barked a laugh. "No."

"And why is that funny?"

"Just trying to make you smile. You've been so moody today, Clary-bell." He paced closer to her.

She didn't smile, and took a small step back. "Of course I'm moody! Do I have to keep explaining why?!"

"Well, I'm perfectly happy."

"That's because you're a psychopath!"

His hand lashed out and struck her on the chest. She fell against the metal frame of the bed. Her eyes filled with hot, angry tears. "William!"

In two strides he was in front of her. His expression was cold and calculating. He bent down, his fingers tracing her jaw. Clara was too scared to pull him off and looked away. Her breath came out in quick pants.

William leaned in. The hottest fires burned silver-blue, and his eyes were no exception. The closeness made her dizzy. "Look at me."

She didn't.

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he yanked her up. Her scalp stung right at the roots. His eyes crawled all over her face, his voice a gravelly murmur. "I told you to fucking look at me."

The whole long time she'd known William, she's always thought of him as beautiful. It wasn't something you did, she knew, to call a masculine man beautiful, but that was really the only way to describe him. But right then in that moment, he was so ugly it was all she could do not to squeeze her eyes shut.

"You're trembling. Bit off more than you could chew, hm?" William purred softly. He let go of her hair, but kept her caged in with his broad arms. His breath burned on her neck. "I could tear out your throat with my teeth if I wanted to."

"Please let me go." Her lower lip trembled. Blood pounded in her head. She felt like she was going to pass out.

His eyes flickered across her face. Finally, he released her. The moment he did, she flung herself off the ground and slammed the bathroom door shut, locking it tight. She ripped off her clothes and turned the shower on, collapsing against the wall and allowing herself to sob into the scalding water. Clara grabbed her sugar scrub and violently rubbed it all over her body until her skin was red and raw and the hot water sent stinging tingles everywhere. The pain helped clear her mind and figure out what to do next.

God, what do I do next?

What did they always teach in school? If a man hits you, you leave him, right? They never taught what to do if it's the man you love with all your heart and have three children to prove it.

She took a breath and turned the shower off. Maybe she just needed to sleep on it. She could go in the separate bedroom and lock the door. Drying herself off with a fluffy white towel and wiped away the fog in the mirror mechanically helped distract her. She winced at her reflection. Her face was red and blotchy, eyes puffy, and there was a discoloured mark on her chest and spine where she'd been hit. She was surprised she didn't have a bald spot from how much her head throbbed.

Pulling on her white linen robe, she carefully unlocked the door, opening it slowly in case he tried to jump her. She nearly laughed at the ridiculous idea. Am I going insane?

Clara exited and saw fresh clothes laid out for her on the bed, a pair of gray sweatpants and a hot-pink tank top. Taking them into the bathroom, she changed in the shower and kept her hair down. She felt like there were eyes watching everywhere.

She left the bathroom and froze when she saw William sitting on the bed.

He raised his head, eyes glistening with emotion. "Clara…"

No no no. She backed away. He stood up. "Clary, listen, please."

She spun around. "No! I'm not going to listen to you, you…you abuser!"

When he didn't stop advancing, she shoved him away, hard, and his hand sliced against the corner of the table. He swore, clutching it, and bit down on his lower lip so hard it probably bled.

"Crap! I'm sorry!" Clara blurted. "Are you okay?"

William chuckled, wry. "Guess we're even, eh?"

"What?" She shook her head, anger bleeding back into her bones. "That was an accident!"

"That's what I was trying to tell you, love, I didn't mean to hit you—"

She snorted. "Right."

"If you'll let me finish, I was going to tell you that I have anger management issues. Bad anger management issues. Had them ever since I was a kid. Back in England, I beat one of my mates so hard he lost vision in one eye, permanently. It's part of the reason I got sent here in the first place. It haunts me. I regret doing it every waking moment. Just like I know I'm going to regret doing this to you."

He'd never told her this before. "Really?"

Guilt shone in his eyes. "Yes, really. I would never lie to you. Especially not now. Clara, you're my favourite person. I wake up thinking of you, and I go to sleep thinking of you. I would never, ever want anything to happen to my perfect girl. That's why I did what I did to Phillip. I love you so, so much and…oh, hell, I've been rambling. You know I'm sorry."

Clara didn't know what to do. She wanted to throw something at him. A chair. Herself.

She chose the second and flung herself into his chest, tears soaking his shirt. Who was she crying for? Him? Her? "I love you too," she managed to say. "I'm sorry for hurting your hand."

"Shh, darling, it's alright." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "We both made mistakes tonight. Let's just get some rest."

William took his melatonin and Clara had some herself so she wouldn't worry herself into staying up all night. At least she could reassure herself with the cold hard fact that it would never, ever happen again.

A/N

Poor Clara :((( I feel so bad for her. Even though I'm the one writing this. I didn't want to hurt u clary!

Question/Challenge: Lighter note! Theories on the Ruin DLC? I feel like Cassie could be Gregory's sister! They do look similar.

Have an amazing day/night!

~Ghost