The Hanging Noose

Seventeen

Authors Note: trigger warning! Mature themes ahead!

The night begins to draw to a close. A tipsy Dottie and a sober Reggie are the first to leave, with Dottie carefully handing Karl over to Ada, conscious on not waking him up.

"I'm staying at Reggie's tonight, Mum," she announces, her words slightly slurring as she grabs her bag.

Polly raises an eyebrow, "when will you be home?"

"Reg will give me a lift back tomorrow," she lifts her head to meet Reggie's eyes, "won't you?"

Reggie nods, "of course. I'll have her home by lunch, Mrs Gray."

Polly hums in response, not even batting an eyelid to Reggie, who stands by the snug door, waiting for Dottie. Polly stares at Dottie, her eyes bulging, her hand grasped hold of Dottie's, almost as the pair are having their own conversation.

Dottie then smiles at Polly, "alright, Mum, we'll be off now."

Polly nods, dropping her daughters hand and watching as Dottie then walks in to Micheal, who places his hands on Dottie's shoulders and leans his forehead near against Dottie's own forehead.

"Be safe, yeah?" He mutters, staring at Dottie.

Dottie nods, holding on to his wrists.

"You can come back home, you know," Micheal says, "sleep in your own bed. Mum and I will get you home. You don't have to go back to his if you don't want to."

"I know," Dottie slurs, staring at Micheal.

"You can stay here, with us. Carry on drinking, Karl will miss you when he wakes up," Micheal tries to bargain, a twist in his stomach knitting in anxiety.

Dottie smiles in response, she lets out a small laugh.

John leans back against the booth, cockily smirking at Reggie. "Oi, Reg, you see that yeah? It's like a bond no other siblings have. Whatever happens to our Dots, Micheal knows straight away."

"Like twins."

"Oh closer than twins," John adds making Finn frown next to him.

Finn goes to talk when John elbows his ribs causing him to hiss.

Dottie smiles hastily at Micheal before she leans in to kiss his cheek, "I'll be home tomorrow by lunch."

Micheal nods, "alright." He brings her in to his chest causing Dottie to giggle, her head pressed against his heart.

"Fuck me you're drunk," she whines, patting his ribs and causing him to chuckle slightly. "Can you let go now? I want to sleep."

Micheal obeys, with a small smile situated on to his face. He haps his sisters shoulder before she says goodbye to the rest of the family.

Dottie and Reggie walk quickly down Watery Lane to the small house that Reggie owns. It's not far from where her and Micheal first sat when they had waited for Polly.

Reggie waited for Dottie to fish out the keys as he stands by the door. He rolls his eyes when she drops them, stumbling over her own feet to pick them up. He grabs them from her, pushing them in to the lock on the door and twisting the door open. He steps in first before offering a hand to Dottie, who smiles as she takes it.

Reggie's grey eyes burn in to Dottie as he slams the door shut, shoving her back in to the door.
"I thought you weren't drinking tonight."

Dottie screeches, dropping her bag as head comes in contact with the wooden frame of the door.

Reggie tightens his grip on Dottie's arms. "Eh? Answer me."

"I-I'm sorry."

Shaking his head, he releases one of his hands from Dottie's arms to hit the door beside her. She winces, feeling all of the alcohol and happiness from within her drain instantly.

"We agreed you wouldn't drink. Do you think I enjoyed watching you being a drunk? Being so drunk that your mother had to help you to stand up? Huh?"

Dottie twists her head, feeling Reggie's breath fan against her skin.

"Answer me!" He demands, pushing his body further in to Dottie's.

Dottie tries to recoil, trying to shrink further away from him. "Im sorry, Reggie," she croaks out, staring up at him, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get that drunk."

"No? You didn't mean to accept the drinks your cousins fed you?"

She shakes her head.

Reggie leans his head down, his voice low and his eyes dark. "What did your bother say to you?"

Dottie frowns, hesitating.

"Just now, when you laughed. What did he say to you, Dottie? Did he tell you to leave me? Hmm?"

Shaking her head immediately, Dottie stumbles over her words, trying to sound sober. "N-no, he just... he wanted to make sure I-I'm safe—"

Reggie glares, grabbing hold of Dottie's jaw. "So he doesn't trust me? What have you said to him? What the fuck have you said to him, Dorothea?"

Dottie cries out, shaking her head.

Reggie presses his body further against Dottie's when she doesn't answer. He digs his nails in to her skin causing her to squirm.

"Do you think I enjoy being made fun out of? I've sat all night listening to your fucking cousins degrade me, and what do you do? Laugh about it to your brother."

"No, it wasn't like that—"

Reggie raises an eyebrow, "so I'm wrong? Is that what you're saying?"

When Dottie doesn't respond, he brings his knee up to her stomach, bashing her abdomen with his knee. She cries out, doubling over. He lets her fall to the floor, looking down at her before raising his foot.

Dottie curls up as tears begin to fall down her cheeks. She cries out as Reggie's foot pummels in to her again and again. He freezes, and Dottie breathes out, expecting the whole ideal to be other. Her breath is whipped away from her when a fist plunges in to her rib cage.

Reggie continues to punch her causing her to try to become as small as possible. Tears stream down Dottie's face as she yelps in pain.

"Please stop!" She screams, trying to protect herself. She sniffs when she hears the floorboards creak. "I'm sorry, I really am, Reg."

She listens out for his footsteps, and then turns her head to see where he is. He walks back in to the hallway with a tea towel. He throws it over to her.

"You've been laughing at me, at my expense, and you expect me to treat you like a fucking princess." He spits, glaring at her.

"I wasn't laughing—"

"Silence, I don't want to hear you. Clean yourself up. I don't want the blood to stain the floors."

Dottie stares at him.

"Did you just fucking hear me? Or are you that dumb I have to do it myself?"

Dottie doesn't respond.

Sighing, Reggie stalks over to Dottie.

"No, no, no, please. I'll do it myself."

"Too fucking late," Reggie growls, lifting his fist up and plunging it against Dottie's cheek.

She screeches, trying to push herself back from him. He kneels down, grabbing hold of the tea towel and pressing it to a fresh stinging cut on her cheek.

"I'll have that dress washed," Reggie says.

Dottie doesn't respond, instead she continues to stare at Reggie wondering how this Reggie has overtaken the sweet and caring Reggie she met.

"I'm sorry," she manages to croak out, not really sure why she was apologising for being punched.

Reggie nods, "that's okay. Now come up stairs. Seeing you with a child makes me want one. Come on."