A/N: This chapter is a flashback on the life of Flash. It provides a bit of insight on her homelife. There are some German phrases that I have put in there. The meanings are at the bottom of the page. There is also a poem of which I have given credit to the writer underneath.
**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER HAS LANGUAGE AND VIOLENCE.**
Let us in, Vater.
March, 1895
"Du Heirensohn*! Get back here or I'm gonna kill you!" Otto Becker bellowed angrily, spit flying from the corners of his mouth. He stumbled through the hall to the foot of the stairway, his feet shuffling clumsily to a stop before he peered through the darkness to the closed door at the top. He let out an angry grunt before taking a hefty swig from his half empty bottle of whiskey. It dribbled down the front of his shirt but he didn't seem to notice.
Joseph squinted through the crack at the bottom of the bedroom door he shared with his sister. He could make out his father at the foot of the stairs, the sheer size of the man hard to miss even in the dim lighting coming through the living room.
"He's just standing there drinking. I think we'll be okay. He should forget about us soon if we just stay in here and keep quiet. Hopefully he will just stumble to bed," Joseph said, a hint of doubt evident in his voice. He lifted his head back up to meet his sister's eyes. "What did you do to piss him off, Allie?"
Allie shook her head quickly and let out a small snort. "All I did was ask him when Ma was coming home. She's helping down at the soup kitchen, but he seems to think she's in the bed of Mr. Golden." She made a disgusted face before continuing. "You know how Pa is. Ma does everything wrong in his eyes. I'm pretty sure he's been drinking since daybreak."
Joseph let out a small sigh and threw his arm around his sister. He laid his cheek on the top of her head, blood causing her hair to stick to him. He shifted and grabbed the candle, using the flame to assess the damages. Her once stark blonde hair was now a deep red and matted to her scalp and down the side of her face. He grabbed a handkerchief and wet it with a glass of water by the side of his bed and began gently cleaning the blood from her face.
"What did he do to you this time?" he asked her sullenly.
Allie shrugged her shoulders and grabbed the piece of cloth from him, running it through her hair. "Threw a bottle. I don't think he was throwing it at me this time. Not intentionally. Still got me good though. It doesn't hurt nearly as bad as when he threw the knife last time." She grabbed at the small satchel she kept under her bed, dumping the contents out onto the floor. "You mind stitching me up?"
Joseph nodded and grabbed a needle from the cushion and set to work, his hands moving effortlessly over the wound. They were both experts in stitching each other up by now, having to do it countless of times, more than either of them cared to admit. He placed all the items back in the bag when he was finished and handed it back to her. She slid it back in place, tucking it under a small blanket that was given to her when she was a baby. She stroked the edges of the frayed material absentmindedly.
Joseph cleared his throat to break the silence. "Next time, try not to mention Ma. You know how he gets whenever she is brought up. You gotta remember that."
Allie grunted angrily. "It's bullshit, Troop, and you know it! Ma would never have an affair with anyone. She takes care of his drunk ass day in and day out. When would she have the time? I just don't und-"
"Shut up," Joseph hissed. He held a finger to his lips. Allie concentrated to hear downstairs. She couldn't make out very many of her father's words but she did hear her mother's name in the jumble. Máire. "Ma is home," Joseph whispered.
Allie could hear the muffled shouts coming from her parent's bedroom downstairs. This was nothing new to her or her brother. This was an every-night occurrence in the Becker household. Her father would get hammered and abuse them all over something stupid. It was always something stupid. The most common thing he had taken to was that their mother was a cheating whore. He even went so far as to say that Allie and Joseph were not his children, just some random guy off the street's kids. Bastards.
They could hear the screams of their mother and then silence. Nothing good ever came out of the sudden silences.
Allie and Joseph shared a look, their eyes getting big and their mouths forming into hard lines. They both jumped up at the same time and Allie slung the door open, tearing down the stairs with Joseph running after her. They ran through the living room and down the hallway that led to their parent's room. Joseph grabbed the door handle and jiggled it, soon realizing it was locked. He looked at his sister with wide eyes.
Allie banged on the door furiously with both of her hands. "Let us in, Vater! Let us in! What are you doing to her?" She shouted at the door. There were no voices talking anymore but she could hear a faint gurgling sound. "We have to get in there now!" she said fearfully turning to her brother. She searched his face for understanding and he nodded.
"On three," Joseph said, grabbing his sister's arm and pulling her down the hallway. They turned back to face the door, their hearts in their throats. Allie could feel her adrenaline kick in and her hands started to shake. "One... two... Three!" Joseph shouted and charged toward the door, Allie right by his side. They shoved their bodies hard into the wood and heard it crack before falling into the room. They stumbled around, catching themselves on the chestnut dresser.
They stood there in shock for a split second at the sight of their father on top of their mother. He had his hands clamped tightly around her neck; one knee planted firmly on her chest.
"Sheisse*! Get off of her!" Allie screamed, lunging at her father. She grabbed him by the hair and tugged him but it was no use. She slapped at his arms and clawed at his face, but he was too drunk to feel any of it. "Trooper, help me!"
Joseph was frozen, his mouth hanging open. He couldn't move. Try as he might he couldn't will his legs to go forward.
"Trooper, help!" Allie shrieked, still clawing at her father. That seemed to shake him because he darted forward and began ripping at his father's fingers to loosen them from his mother's neck. Her face was turning a light blue and her eyes were bulging full of terror.
Allie pulled back and took off out of the room, leaving Joseph fighting to save their mom.
"Allie where in the hell are you going?" He shouted. "I can't do this alone!" There was no answer and he thought she had taken off to hide until she came barreling back into the room wielding a cast iron frying pan.
Allie raised it above her head and used all of her force to send it slamming down on Otto Becker's head. There was a sickening clang and her father let go. Their mother lay motionless on the bed, eyes closed, but she was still breathing. She was only unconscious.
"You little shit! I'll kill you!" Otto spit at her. His alcoholic rage had peaked.
Allie raced for the door but her father grabbed a hold of her shirt, ripping the sleeve off. She took the opportunity and stomped through the living room and up the staircase to her bedroom. Joseph darted around Otto and charged up the stairs behind his sister, slamming the door behind them.
"Hide. Now," he whispered urgently, blowing out the candles. They could hear their father lumbering up the stairs and they knew their mother was safe for the time being.
Allie slid under her bed, gripping her baby blanket tightly in her hands. She held it up to her face and breathed in, smelling faint traces of pine and wood smoke. It helped to calm her down a bit. Joseph slid in beside her and they got as close to the wall as they could, praying that their father was too drunk to find them.
The bedroom door banged open and they could see Otto's feet stumbling in. "Drecksau, Drecksau*, where are you?"
Joseph clamped his hand over his sister's mouth to muffle the sound of her whimpers and together they watched as their father shuffled around the room to the foot of Joseph's bed. He leaned down and tore the blanket from the bed, peering under it and Allie let out another scared whimper.
Otto stood back up and shuffled to Allie's bed next and stood at the foot of it quietly. Allie could hear her heart pounding in her ears and felt her chest get tight. She could hear Joseph's breathing speed up and he looked at her with his wide eyes again. It was quiet until it wasn't.
Otto grabbed Allie by the feet and tore her from under the bed. She let out a scream and tried to grab at the springs under the mattress for some leverage.
"Found you, little pig!" Otto shouted with glee. He scooped her off the ground and forced her to her feet, holding the back of her neck to force her to look at him. He leaned in close to her face, his breath hot and putrid in her nostrils. He smelled like a distillery. "You're a little bitch, just like your mutter. I'm gonna show you what we do to bitches around here," he breathed into her face.
Allie struggled to free herself from his grasp, but her attempts were short lived. "Verpiss dich*!" She yelled and spit in his face.
Otto let out a low grunt before picking her up and slamming her against the wall. She felt a crack in her torso and pain spread throughout her abdomen, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. She knew he must have cracked a rib. She let out a small sob, which only fueled Otto's rage even more. He slammed her once more into the wall, knocking down a shelf in the process, the contents of which toppled to the ground and shattered. He let go of Allie, dropping her into a crumpled heap on the floor.
Allie lifted her head just in time to see her brother jump onto her father's back, gouging at his eyes and drawing blood from the fleshy part of his cheeks.
"You wanna play hero, do you boy?" Her father hollered. "Let's add some heat to that fiery spirit of yours." Otto grabbed at Joseph's arms and slung him up over his head onto the bed. He took a swig of whiskey from his bottle and doused the boy with what was left. Joseph coughed and spluttered, the whiskey getting into his eyes and mouth.
Allie tried to get up, but she was immobilized, the pain in her back and stomach too great to struggle against. Her head was swimmy and she felt like everything was coming at her in waves, the fog of the events hitting her eyes in slow motion.
Otto took out a match and lit it, examining it in front of his eyes before tossing it onto Joseph's alcohol-soaked body.
Joseph let out a scream as his body caught fire and Allie's blood ran cold. The sound echoed in her eardrums and buzzed in her brain. She saw a wisp of motion out of the corner of her eye and turned just in time to see her mother break an empty vodka bottle over her father's head.
He fell to the ground with a hard thud and lay motionless at her Máire's feet. Allie prayed that he was dead, that their nightmare of a life was coming to an end. But she could see the steady rise and fall of his chest and knew that he was only knocked out.
Máire shot towards the chest of drawers and pulled out a thick quilt. She had sewn them each one for their tenth birthday the previous year. Darting towards Joseph, she began to frantically smother the flames, starting at his head and working her way down. The smell of charred skin and burning fabric filled the room. Allie gagged; the combination of the smell coupled with her pain sent her into a fit of retching.
Once Máire had tended to Joseph, she made her way over to Allie, gently helping her to her feet and leading her to her bed. She stripped her of her blood-stained clothes and helped her slip into a soft cotton night gown.
"Be calm, my love. It's going to be alright," her mother whispered in her ear, stroking Allie's hair out of her face and placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "Sit tight, I'll be back in a moment." Máire made her way over to her husband still passed out in the floor. He didn't so much as stir when she lifted his leg and dragged him to the doorway and to the top of the stairs. Their mother was not big by any means, her stature short much like her daughter's. She was lean and petite, the counterpart of her husband who had a good 125 pounds on her. But she was able to shimmy him down the stairs with minimal difficulty.
Allie turned to her brother, trying to catch a glimpse of how bad his wounds were. The light was dim but she could make out a few blisters across his arms spreading out to his stomach. His hair was mostly still intact, only slight sprinklings of burnt spots here and there.
"Troop... are you okay?" She whispered hesitantly through the soft glow of the room. When he didn't answer she continued on. "You didn't have to save me. You should have run. You should have stayed with Ma. Anything other than what you did. You could have died."
"And you most definitely would have if I hadn't done something," he said softly. "You would have done the same for me, I know you would have. But we have to be careful now. He's getting more violent. Best to steer clear of him when we can."
Allie opened her mouth in protest, but her mother walked back into the room.
"Get some rest, you two. You need to build your strength back up." She turned to walk back out of the room but Joseph stopped her.
"Mama, what do we tell people this time?"
She paused with her back to them and let out a soft sigh before making her way to sit on the foot of his bed. "We tell them you fell into the fire pit while we were burning leaves. And Allie," she said addressing her daughter, "You got into another fight in the school yard. No one will question that given your reputation."
"I'm tired of making excuses up just to keep up appearances," Allie huffed. "It's not fair." She lay back on her bed and crossed her arms, giving her mother a frustrated groan. "We're not a big happy family like you want everyone to think."
"Allie Jane," her mother said sternly raising an eyebrow. "Do not speak to me that way. You know I'm trying my best. This is just how things have to be for a while. Just a little while longer, I promise. I almost have enough saved up for us to leave. Please just hang tight. Both of you."
"Yes Mama," Allie sighed, keeping her annoyance out of her voice. They'd been planning to leave for over 3 years at this point and Allie didn't think that day was ever coming.
Joseph gave a yawn, wincing slightly from the motion as it pulled at the skin on his face. "Mama, will you read us the poem before you go? Please."
Máire gave him a small smile before nodding. "Yes, alright. But straight to sleep afterwards, yes?" They both nodded in agreement and she stood to go get the book from the bookcase, thumbing through the pages before landing on their favorite poem.
Oh a sunny summer morning,
Early as the dew was dry,
Up the hill I went a berrying;
Need I, need I,— tell you why?
Farmer Davis had a daughter,
And it happen'd that I knew;
On each sunny morning Jenny,
Up the hill went berrying too.
Lonely work is picking berries,
So I join'd her on the hill;
"Jenny dear," said I, "your basket's
Quite too large for one to fill;"—
So we staid— we two— to fill it,
Jenny talking— I was still—
Leading where the hill was steepest,
Picking berries up the hill.
"This is up hill work," said Jenny;
"So is life," said I, shall we
Climb it up alone, or Jenny
Will you come and climb with me?
Redder than the blushing berries
Jenny's cheeks a moment grew,
While without delay she answer'd,
"I will come and climb with you."
*Poem by Lucella Clark*
*Du Heirensohn- You son of a bitch
*Sheisse- Shit
*Drecksau- Dirty pig
*Verpiss dich- Piss off