Seana; Scars From The Past

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I know this is a Outlaw Queen collection, but technically, Sean and Lana are Outlaw Queen, so this is Seana. (As you know I wrote the most stories earlier and originally this was my first Seana story and I'm too lazy to delete the whole "Sean and Lana are OQ and I fully respect blablabla")
Not everything in this story is true, and I fully respect the relationships Lana and Sean have with Fred and Tanya, as well as their beautiful friendship.
Normal writers should rate this something because there is a mentioning of self harm, but I'm not American or Brittish and I don't know what the ratings mean, so I'll just tell you that there is a mention of self harm. (This is based on nothing, just my wonderful, kind of dark mind)
Enjoy reading this!

Lana and Sean were watching television, but Sean wasn't really focussing on the screen. He was focussing on Lana's right wrist. She was having an tattoo of a feather on her wrist, and he had stared at it for the last ten minutes. There was something not exactly right about the feather. Lana moved her arm and then he saw there were lines, scars, on her wrist, underneath her tattoo. Sean moved his right arm, which was around her shoulders, and grabbed her wrist loosely. He tried to think of a reason how she could have gotten these scars.
Maybe in a fight, just like how she got that scar on her upper lip. Said the voice in his head. But it just didn't make sense. It was something else. The question was what?
Lana looked at him, but he just remained looking at the scars. Then suddenly it clicked. Multiple horizontal lines. Underneath each other. Covered by a tattoo, which she had told him stood for hope. And she had also told him there was a hard time in her life, which is why she got that tattoo in the first place. But maybe not. Maybe the "hard time" meant her cutting herself. And maybe the feather was there to cover her self harm scars.    

"What is this?" he asked, even though he was quite sure he knew what it meant.
"It's nothing." Lana said, trying to move her arm out of his grip, but he was stronger so it didn't work.
"This is not nothing." Sean whispered. The voice in his head was now telling him he was a idiot for not seeing this earlier, they had pretty much intimate scenes. But most of the time the focus was on his right wrist (technically Robin's right wrist) and not hers. And you still should have seen it earlier. The voice stated.
Lana was avoiding his eyes, looking at his hand, then her hand, her wrist and the floor. Anything but his eyes.
"Lana, what is this?" he asked again, pushing her a bit more.
"It's not what it seems." she whispered, still not looking in his eyes, her gaze fixed on the glass of water on the table in front of her.
"You're telling me these are not self harm scars?"
"I'm not, 'cause they are." Lana whispered and finally looked at him.
Something about her admitting these scars were what he thought they were, just made it worse. Made it real. Lana has been hurting herself, on purpose.
"Why did you do it?"
Lana remained silent and he was about to ask it again when she answered, the television long forgotten.
"You know this time in your life, when nothing seems to matter? When you don't seem to matter? That life isn't worth living anymore? And that nobody would miss you when you were actually dead?" Lana asked, and Sean nodded, but didn't know exactly where she wanted to go with this.
"Well, I had that moment when I was pretty young."
"What's 'pretty young'?" Sean asked carefully, scared for her answer.
"Sixteen." Lana whispered and Sean felt his blood froze in his body.
"You were sixteen when you did this?"
He was very well aware of the fact that her father got killed when she was sixteen, but still... sixteen?
"No." Lana said, looking at her wrist again when she added: "I was seventeen."

Seventeen. She was seventeen when she decided that making herself bleed was a good idea. Sean doubted if it ever would be a good idea. Probably not.
"Are you mad?" Lana whispered.
"No." Sean answered, and it wasn't the entire truth, but it wasn't a complete lie either. He was mad, at the reason why she did it, but not at her, so he decided 'no' would be the best answer.
"You're a terrible lier." she told him, but Sean wasn't listening. He was counting the scars. At first he thought it were seven lines, but he discovered there were more lines between them, eight in total. Which meant there was a gasp of time between the first seven en the other eight, because it would hurt to much if the first weren't completely healed. He wasn't sure if she would've actually cared about pain levels back then. At least not about that it would hurt her more if she didn't wait. God, he hoped there was a gasp of time between those scars, 'cause the pain would probably be immense if she hadn't.
"Fifteen scars." he whispered, still looking at her wrist. Then he looked up at her and said quietly: "You have been hurting yourself on purpose fifteen times. And I just discovered it."
"Nobody else knew. Not even my mother or Deena." (Deena is Lana's older sister.)
"You should have told somebody." Sean said and then he asked her something he regretted the moment it leaved his mouth.
"Did you do it because of your father?"
Lana smiled sadly and nodded.
"I did indeed. My parents divorced when I was four. I lived with my mother for the first ten years and then with my dad until..." she trailed off, she didn't need to say what happened. Her father, Sam Parrilla, a famous baseball player, has been shot by someone in the chest and he died from the wound. That's how Lana lost her father.
"Deena and I didn't exactly grow up with each other, so we weren't so close when we were younger." Sean didn't expect that, since the sisters were incredibly close right now.
"Life just didn't felt right anymore and then I found a knife. Before I could think about it, I had already done it and it was hurting like hell. But I whenever I felt very bad, I did it again... and again, and before I knew it, it were fifteen wounds. Which healed and turned into fifteen scars. I couldn't look at it without feeling that pain, the mental pain of losing my dad and the physic pain of the cutting. So I decided to take a tattoo to cover them." Lana was almost crying now, and Sean felt the same way. He letted go of her wrist and hugged her, whispering they were fine and that it was the past and no matter how many scars she had, he would still love her, maybe love her even more, because everybody has flaws and these scars are no matter what, a part of her. And he loved every single part of her. Even if her self harm scars were sending knifes through his heart whenever he thought about Lana hurting herself.

Sean had never thought of Lana as a self harm person, but it turned out that even the persons with the brightest smiles and the most beautiful laughs can do that. Because in the end everybody is human, even the humans who work sixteen hours a day, and everybody has a moment or time they rather forget.
It turned out Sean found Lana's moment that day. And he would never forget it. Not in a billion years.

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