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I heave on the cold tiles, dry sobs wracking my body, the horror and fear gripping my body like a vice, squeezing my organs with unrelenting tightness. My hands are clamped over my ears, trying to block out the sounds, which is currently needling their way into my brain. My screams have died down, throat raw and scratchy, as I heave in air.

All I can hear is his voice.

All I can see is his face.

All I can feel is the dull aching pain in my ribs and cheekbone, and the sharp agony on my forearms.

It's like I've entered a living, waking hell I can't escape.

I want to slam my head into the floor, to make it all stop. I squeeze my nails tightly into my scalp, trying to hold on to the pain that is real, and not the horrifying agony that my mind is forcing upon my body. The palms of my hands press tightly into my ears and temples, like I'm trying to force in my own skull.

My lips tremble, and I can hear myself whimper one word.

"Please."

I beg, I plead, I whimper. Please stop, please make this end, please help me.

I vaguely register the pounding footsteps, growing closer and closer, and I can feel the panic shoot through me, and the chill that ices my spine. Tears start pouring even more uncontrollably, as I curl tightly into a ball, legs pulled into my stomach, head bowed down.

Then someone puts their hand on my arm.

I lurch back, a terrified scream erupting from my throat as I swipe wildly in the direction of the person, nails clawing at anything that comes near me. I scuttle backwards frantically, my back colliding with the wall as I press myself flatly against it, wrapping my arms protectively over my head.

"Rosie! Rosie it's me!" I hear someone yell, and I blink, returning to the clean bathroom.

I'm not in Fundy's cell anymore. He's not here. Instead, I'm looking at a black and white smiley face mask.

And that does not make me feel any safer.

I'm sobbing hysterically, shaking in terror as he crouches down, creeping slowly towards me. My heart starts to pound further as he gets nearer to me, as I struggle to breathe through the mass of tears and choking sobs that force their way up my throat, body curled in on itself.

"Rosie, you're ok now. You're safe now." He says calmly, reaching his hand out, and all I can hear is the way he talked to me in that cell, all those months ago.

"Get the fuck away from me!" I screech, flinging his arm away from me, as I scramble to escape him, only able to make out blurry silhouettes through my tears, trying to breathe with short, rapid, panicked breaths as my whole body trembles. He blocks the doorway, and I fall backwards.

"Rosie, it's me. It's Dream Rosie. You're ok now." He tries again, stepping forwards to my trembling curled up form, that lies crumpled on the floor.

I am done feeling like this. I am sick of being afraid, sick of being feeling so weak and helpless. I was happy, once, back in L'manburg with my family, before all of this. Before everything that destroyed me. Before Dream kidnapped me.

"This is your fault!" I shriek, writhing on the floor to get away from him. He seems to recoil, like I've just punched him, and I steps back slightly, standing stiffly straight with his palms outstretched. I can hear other pairs of footsteps in the distance.

He darts down, pushing my shoulders to the floor as I swing madly at him.

"This is your fault! This is all your fucking fault!" I scream, flailing around like an insect that's about to be squashed. I'm struck by how much I hate him.

"No, no, no, no Rosie." I can hear him pleading, but I don't care anymore. I just want his fucking hands off me.

"Fuck you! Fuck you! This is all your fault! See this!" I yell, ripping my arm free and holding it up. He shakes his head.

"Rosie no-"

"See this!?" I gesture at my face, "you did this to me!"

I stop fighting, going limp on the floor, face hot and puffy from the tears, arms flaring with itchy irritating pain from my fingernails. "You did this to me." I sob, my throat tightening horribly. "You did this to me."

"Dream stop, she's overwhelmed." I can hear the deep voice of Eret, but I don't even care.

"You did this to me. This is all your fault. This is all your fault." I choke out, arms wrapping over my midsection tightly, trying to stop the gripping pain that is my whole being shattering apart.

I couldn't hold on.

"Don't you dare fucking touch her Eret." I hear Tommy snarl, barging his way past an approaching Eret, and pushing a crouching Dream over.

"Rosemary?" He questions, sitting down on the floor next to my head.

"This is your fault. You did this to me. You did this to me," I murmur, like a mantra.

"Rose, who did what to you?" He asks in concern. My trembling fingers timidly reach out, curling over his hand.

"It's your fault." I say again, looking up from Tommy's hands and at Dream. I can hear him sniffle, and take deep shaky breaths, looking over us from the corner of the room.

"Rose, whose fault?" Tommy asks again, thumb brushing gently over my knuckles. I shift my teary eyes back onto our conjoined hands.

"Are you going to hurt me?" I ask plaintively, like a small child.

"No, of course not." He answers quietly. I nod, shifting my body over so my head can rest in his lap. He softly strokes my hair, one hand still pinched in my grip. Eret sits down next to him, and I can feel the hatred radiating off Tommy, but he doesn't say anything.

"George, Sapnap, Niki and Wilbur went to go move your stuff to L'manburg." He says softly, letting my bring up my other hand to grab onto his. I cling onto both of their hands tightly, pulling my legs up so my knees press against Eret's legs.

"I hate him." I whimper. Tommy's hand freezes on my forehead.

"Hate who Rosie?" Eret asks gently, cupping my hand with both of his firm ones. I twist my head to look at Dream, who has glittering tear tracks shining on his neck, breathing raggedly.

"You."

Because how could he do this to me? I used to be happy. I used to be whole.

He broke me.





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A/N I've been thinking about this for while and decided that even though Dream and Rosie are great and all, can you really look past the kidnapping and psychological torture he put her through? Rosemary has finally snapped (as the poor girl was always going to), and the question now is can she ever heal and put herself back together, and can she ever forgive Dream?

It is my birthday in approximately one hour, so happy birthday to me, I guess!

Quick PSA btw; please do not send me weird sexual messages! I'm quite literally very underage!

Please remember to vote and comment, it really means a lot to me, and helps me out a lot.

Hope you enjoyed!!

Oopsies x

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