owo what's THIS?! i live!! had a busy couple years, came out as non-binary, changed my name (my pen name still stands), found the love of my life, and got engaged! got my fiancée into WR recently and remembered about this story. since i had the inspiration to write another chapter, i thought i may as well! so enjoy, and as always thanks for all the lovely comments and likes!
CHAPTER TWELVE
Belle was feeling… personally, Belle wasn't entirely sure how she was feeling. She recognised the numbness creeping in, it was the same numbness that she felt after most confrontations with her father, and after she'd first found out about her mother. It was a familiar numbness, and so, longing for that familiarity whilst her entire world changed around her, she clung to it.
There was anger there too, bubbling just beneath the surface. This? This she was intimate with. Anger was her oxygen when she felt like she couldn't breathe. Anger was her lifeline to clutch to so she didn't drown. If she let go, she feared she would simply drift away into the nothingness. She also felt fear, and the fear fuelled the anger. Fear of the unknown, fear of her father returning, even fear of her own emotions. Fear that this was too simple, too easy; there had to be a catch.
She could also pick out relief, another emotion she was accustomed to. She felt it whenever she got home to a note saying her father wouldn't be back till late, whenever she realised that one of her mistakes had slipped by without being noticed, whenever she managed to hide the bruises successfully, whenever the blows finally stopped and she could breathe again. Except this time it felt different, it felt… final.
She glanced across at her mother from the passenger seat of the car, unsure of how to feel about her. Sure, she'd kept her word and helped her, but this one act couldn't change how Belle felt towards her, and had done for over a decade. She privately acknowledged that it was a start, and that it was a major first step, but feelings don't just change overnight. There was a rocky road ahead of them- but it was by far better than the one behind.
"How are you feeling?" Rachel asked after seeing Belle's gaze flit across to her.
"I…", Belle started then stopped, "I'm not sure."
"That's understandable."
"You know that moment just after the height of a concerto, when the percussion dies down and the melody slows, and your heart's still racing and your breathing is still fast to match the peak of the music, but you know that even though the loudest part is over, it isn't finished?"
Rachel nodded, not expecting her daughter to say that much.
"That's sort of how I feel. Except less… exhilarated. Less happy."
"I can only imagine. Is there anything I can do?"
"You've done enough." The phrase could have come out sharply, but the soft note of gratefulness in her voice meant that Rachel understood it to be a thank you.
"Are you going to be okay going inside to pick up your things, or do you want me to?" Rachel knew that forcing her help upon the teen could damage the fragile peace between the two.
"I'll be fine," Belle said, before offering a small olive branch, "but I could use some help carrying stuff back to the car?"
"Anything you need," Rachel said, shooting a small smile at her daughter.
When they got to the house, there was a police officer outside, who nodded at them as they entered, obviously expecting them. The house was pristine, which was unsurprising to Rachel, not a single thing out of place. There were awards up all over the walls, mostly music, some academic; there were no photos of Belle anywhere.
Belle entered her room and sank into her bed immediately, closing her eyes. Rachel hovered in the doorway, unwilling to cross the threshold into her daughter's private space without permission. This room was the different to the rest of the house- clean, yes, but with clothes hung over the backs of chairs, posters on the walls of musicians, only some of whom Rachel recognised, and photos with her friends. It didn't slip her notice that there was one of Belle and Bolton on the bedside table. The room itself was warm, oranges and yellows and greens, a stark contrast to the cold feeling the rest of the hour elicited. Music sheets were scattered on most every surface, even some pinned up on the wall. Rachel's heart broke when her eyes rested on a first aid kit on the floor, open and clearly frequently used.
"Belle?"
Her voice made the girl open her eyes and look at her.
"If you need a minute, I can leave you be," Rachel said.
"I'm fine." Belle did absolutely not seem fine. "How much can we fit in your car?"
Sinking into the comfort of practicality once again, Rachel realised.
"Not everything, unfortunately, but enough to last you until the weekend. We'll come back then and get anything else you might need, Eddie- Mr Lawson- has offered to lend us his car."
Belle nodded. She pulled out a suitcase from under the bed and put clothes in it, books, music sheets. She glanced across at Rachel, still hovering in the doorway. "You can come in, you know."
Rachel took a small step over the threshold, glad that Belle was seemingly trusting her with her personal space.
"What can I do?" She asked.
Belle motioned to her instruments in their cases. "Could you take them out to the car? Will they all fit?" A note of anxiety crept into her voice.
"I believe so. All except the piano downstairs."
"Okay, that's fine. There's one at school anyway."
As they slowly loaded as much of Belle's possessions into the car as they could, Belle spoke very little, hyperfocussing on the task at hand. As they were leaving the house, the policeman once again nodded at them before they drove away.
When they pulled up in the driveway of Rachel's house, Belle didn't move at all. Staring straight ahead, she remained frozen in her seat. Rachel laid a hand on her arm and she instinctively flinched away.
"I'm sorry, love, I-"
"It's fine. I'm fine."
"You have a right not to be, you know."
Belle didn't respond.
Rachel sighed, deciding not to push her anymore today. "Come on, let's get your things inside."
Belle took a second but eventually started moving, grabbing her suitcase and instruments. Rachel helped get everything else, and led her into the house and up the stairs to what used to be a spare bedroom, with Belle following her in.
The room was previously nondescript, with white walls and white linen, and bare furniture. However Rachel had been busy the past few months. The walls were still white, but the bedding was colourful, with musical notes all over it. There were fairy lights strung up everywhere- the top of the bed, around the walls, the doorframe. There was a wooden wardrobe and chest of drawers in one corner, a big ottoman at the bottom of the bed, and a large corner desk that was mostly bare save for fairy lights and a lamp in the shape of a treble clef. A comfy looking desk chair sat in front of it. Lined up on one wall were stands for all of Belle's musical instruments.
Belle gasped lowly as she stepped in the room. "It's…for me?"
"Of course it is. I wanted you to feel at home, Belle. This is your home. I didn't know what your favourite colours were so we can paint the walls, any colour you want. Just-" Rachel put her hands on her daughter's shoulders and looked her in the eyes, "you're safe now."
Belle nodded, tears threatening to spill over her eyelashes. She blinked several times to get rid of them, and before she could second guess herself threw her arms around her mum.
"Thank you, Rachel."
Rachel just shook her head, cradling Belle in her arms. "It's alright now. It's alright."