Wanted

•Pain•

     {•edited•}
                            ~Bex's POV~

    "Are you sure you're okay?" Marissa asks as we walk to our dorm. anyone since last night. My throat still hurts from yelling and I feel numb. Every now and then I get sharp pains between my legs.
    "I just want to sleep," I tell her, pushing open the door. She walks in first, keeping her eyes on me like I could explode at any second. It feels like a hundred pounds has been lifted from my shoulders.
     "Are you sure there isn't something wrong? That you might want to talk about?" She asks. I lay down on my bed, curling up in a ball. Between the pain, the sudden emotional trauma, and not getting sleep last night I'm exhausted, to say the least. "I'm gonna let you sleep."
     "Thank you," I mumble, thankful that she finally taking note that I don't want to explain myself. Maybe she would be a good person to talk to, she's a good listener, but I'm sure she'd flip when she hears I murdered a man. Her brother is a cop for God's sake. "Can you make sure I'm awake in an hour?"
    "You need more than an hour."
    •••••••

     Waking up to the sound of hushed voices "yelling" at each other is never comfortable. Before showing in actually awake, I peek one eye open to see what's going on. Marissa has her arms crossed over her chest, glaring up at Atticus who looks mad at her. He's the last person I want to see.
     "What am I supposed to do?" He asks, seeming genuinely confused.
    "Talk." Marissa spins around on her heels before I can close my eyes again. She tenses when she notices, looking back at her brother. "Looks like you have no choice now." I sit up, ignoring any pain that comes with it. Every bruise on my body seems to be hurting and my head is spinning. "I'll be back soon. I need to make a run to the store."
    I nod, looking in front of me blankly. I don't even know how I'm supposed to act at this point. You can't act a certain way when you feel nothing. My eyes slowly find their way to Atticus who stands quietly at the door. Marissa closes it behind herself, giving me an "I'm sorry" smile. The alcohol in her system has worn off it seems. He walks further in, his movements slow and testing.
"Why are you looking at me like I'm gonna blow up at any second?" I ask, my voice still not having returned to normal, it's still shaky and raspy from yelling. He sits down on the edge of my bed, resting his hand on my leg.
"She said you were acting weird and was worried," he tells me. I knew she was doing something when she said we needed to walk slow when she always practically runs back to the dorm. She wasn't happy when I started pulling her out of the club last's night, thankfully she wasn't with that guy still at the time.
"I'm fine," I mumble, not able to make eye contact.
"No, you're blank. What happened?"
"I said I'm fine," I snap, wishing he wouldn't press it. But this is Atticus, of course, he's going to press it. He cares about other people. "I'm just sick and tired."
    "Nice try trying to be smooth. Sick and tired of what?" He says. Do I tell him? Can I tell him? Will he look at the same afterward? He knows about my past with Pablo, not the present, neither of us thought there would be a present. I feel disgusted with myself even though it wasn't willing and I'm terrified he'll feel the same.
     "You have to promise not to tell anyone if I tell you," I tell him, my voice cracking. He wipes a tear away from my cheek, nodding slowly. I take a deep breath before starting, preparing myself for the vivid flashbacks. "Last night I went out with Marissa and Alaric to that new club that opened here. We were having a good time, everyone was safe. Pablo showed up and started talking to me."
    His eyes narrow, his grip on my leg tightening; I highly doubt he even recognizes he's doing it. His eyes are fixed on mine, brows drawn together. "Did he do anything?" He asks. My eyes drop, tears welling up in them again. I didn't realize how much a person can cry until now.
    "I tried getting away from him, so I went to the bathroom. He came in and made everyone who was in there get out. Between being sick and scared out of my mind I could hardly fight back against him when he started pulling on me. I-I couldn't fight him off," I explain, tears running down my face.
At this point, I'm shaking again and feel like I'm sitting back on that bathroom floor. My eyes find my shoes that are laying next to my bed, some blood at on the whites of them.
"You can't do anything about it," I tell him, trying to sound as calm as possible, clearing my throat. If I freak out more than I already am he'll probably think there's even more to the story, which there is but I'm not telling him. Maybe I should? Would he tell? Years of being told not to trust the police remind me not to change my way of thought today.
"What the fuck do you mean I can't do anything about it?!" He yells angrily. I flinch, my eyes falling. "You got fucking raped, Bex. There's no reason why I can't. He can't get away with it again!"
"C-can you please stop y-yelling?" I ask, wiping my tears. He sighs, looking at me then looking away again. It's not his fault, I wouldn't want to look at me either. "Are you mad at me?" His expression changes in not even a second, going from pissed off to concern.
"There's nothing for me to be mad about towards you, you didn't ask for this. He's the one I'm mad at; I'm sorry if it seems I'm taking that out on you." I nod, letting him take my hand. "But you have to let me do something. He can't get away with this."
"Just lay with me," I tell him, tugging gently on his hand. "That's what you can do. I-I don't want to be alone, even with just Marissa." There isn't any hesitation before he nods. I lay back down on my side. He lays himself next to me, my back pressed against the wall. His arms wrap around me and pull me to his chest, my eyes immediately closing. There's that feeling again, that feeling where he makes me feel completely safe and protected. I hold onto him tighter, silent tears slipping from my face. I'm scared that feeling is going to get me into trouble.
"He won't hurt you again," he tells me. "I promise." I know.
••••••

The past week has been the hardest in my life. It wasn't even this bad the first time. I've never been in so much pain, yet been so numb, at the same time. Alaric comes over every day to check on me and to assure me that everything is still okay. Marissa has learned to stop asking questions because she's not gonna get answers.
     Even my communication with Atticus has broken off. He tries talking to me when we're together and all my answers are short. I can hardly kiss him without feeling sick to my stomach. I want him to touch me and hold me, make me feel like everything is fine, but I can't handle when he does.
     "You wanna do something?" He asks, sitting down next to me on the couch. He takes my hand, playing with my fingers. He brings it up to his mouth and kisses the back, giving me a soft smile. I shake my head, shooting a few inches back. He doesn't make me feel threatened, but every time I'm too close to him it feels like I'm being suffocated.
     "I'm good," I tell him. We both know that's a huge lie. In furthest I've been from okay in my entire life. He turns his body towards me, letting go of my hand.
    "You have to communicate with me in order for this to work. The past week you've been closed off some everyone; even Alaric. I understand that what you told me is what you're comfortable with me knowing, but what's the rest cause I'm tired of this." I'm not surprised at all that he's saying all this, it was a matter of time.
As I look at him, I wonder how bad it is going to hurt. Things with him just started, but there were so many emotions so fast. During the past week, I've been thinking things through so much and finally think I've come up with a safe decision. "We need to end this," I mumble, swallowing down the lump in my throat.
"What?"
"We can't keep this going. I'm s-"
"You can stop talking now," he says. I close my mouth, the words left on my tongue. "We got on each other's nerves for weeks, got I stupid ass fights because we wouldn't admit anything, try seeing different people, then finally get together and you want to end it after a few weeks? You're not leaving unless you give me a good ass reason."
     I can't get any words out before I start crying. Almost immediately his arms around me and I'm crying once again into his chest, soaking his shirt with my tears. His hands run over my back, whisking soothing words in my ear. I take deep breaths, starting to hiccup. He pulls back, cupping my face in his hands.
    "You're gonna have to work with me," he says. I nod, pressing my lips together. Despite my attempt, I know I can't leave him, not now. He's the one thing that's keeping me from falling into pieces completely. Without him, I think I'd be a worthless mess.
    "You're not gonna look at me the same," I tell him. His eyes search mine, shaking his head. He doesn't try giving me that cliche speech about how nothing I can do or say can change how he feels. My emotions are scrambled in every way. "Pablo can't hurt me again because I-I killed him."
    His hands fall from my face, his shoulders limp. My heart pounds in my chest as he stands up. Everything hurts right now, my body, my heart. I find myself more worried he'll leave me than slap cuffs on my wrists for murder.
     "I got his gun and shot the mirror first. H-he moves back and I aimed at him," I say, trying to redeem myself. I don't want him thinking it was in cold blood. "I couldn't move after; I was terrified. I've never- I've never done this before."
    He leans against the wall, his arms crossed. My stomach is doing flips, not the good kind either. It feels like the aftermath of throwing up. "You killed someone." I nod, finding it hard to hear those words aimed at me. It's usually someone else doing the damage, I cause it and am it.
    "There was nothing else for me to do," I cry. "It was never going to stop if I-"
    "You could have gone to the cops-"
    "AFTER IT HAPPENED!" I yell. "Not during, what's done is done and I wasn't going to let go on longer. The cops aren't on my side, I know they won't be if this gets out. So please, I don't care if you never want to see me again, just please don't tell anyone. My whole life could be ruined by this."
       He looks at me with many mixed emotions. I walk over to him, finding some relief in telling him. When I reach out to touch him he steps away. My hand hangs in the air as he walks to the kitchen counter.
    "I'll drive you back to the dorms."
   •••••
                  
      "You told him?" Alaric asks, managing to keep his voice even. I nod, my eyes burning. The ride back here was more awkward than the first time I was alone with him. He rests keep his hand in my leg how he's been doing or try talking to me. It was silence the whole time.
   "He could hardly look at me," I say. A lump forms in my throat again. "I feel so lost, Alaric. I want to go home, I want to stay here. I've felt like shit the past week."
   "I know," he says, taking my hands and squeezing them. He locks his eyes with mine, giving me the softest smile I've ever seen. "You're a Florencio, killing is in your name, not you. The first time is the hardest because you're shocked that you're capable of that, but it's our job to realize that literally, anyone can pull a trigger, it doesn't make you a monster. Cops shoot people, a nun could do somebody if they needed. You have to realize that if Pablo was still alive he would still probably be after you and maybe other people too. The chances of you saving more lives than you took are high."
     His words are everything I've needed to hear, giving me the reassurance I was needing. "I want my dad," I cry, my eyes burning. My chest and rises and falls rapidly from crying so hard. Alaric looks down at the floor, blinking back his own tears. We can never handle situations like this together. It's stupid because he's never been there for me, I don't even know what it's like to have him comfort me, but I know that's who I need right now. He understands all this, I could talk to him about this, but I'm so fucking scared he'll turn away from me again."
     He lets go of my hands. "I know."
   ••••••
          
        Walking alone at midnight probably isn't the safest idea. I couldn't sleep with so many thoughts running through my head. Alaric eased some of my pain, but there's still more. After our conversation I tried calling Atticus, figuring I was in a better state to talk, but he didn't answer.
      Marissa is still being careful with her words, not saying too much, but not too little. We studied with each other for an hour or two, finding it a good way to distract me. She didn't ask how things went when I was with her brother, which I was grateful for. There isn't an easy way to tell someone that your relationship is on the rocks because you killed someone.
    Someone standing in front of the door makes me stop. The outline of the person is tall and wide. My steps get slower the closer I get. Once close enough I can recognize my dads face. I honestly think I would have preferred a masked man. He straightens up when he sees me.
    "Alaric told me to come," he says. I keep my head down, too nervous to make eye contact. "Used some choice words." I shift back and forth in front of him.
    "You didn't have to come," I say. He bites in his lip, looking away. "We'll just end up fighting like always." He shakes his head, stepping closer.
    "I know you don't think I do, but I see the difference in you right now. The last time I saw you you were...not like this," he says, gesturing to me. "I notice things."
    "If I even tell you will you care?" I ask, not sure if I want the answer. His jaw ticks, not saying a word. Everything in me is telling me to walk inside and not tell him anything, but I know how much it will help. "I killed Pablo."
    His brows raise in surprise, his expression unreadable. I would rather that than immediate anger; part of me was expecting that form him. The worst part of this for me is thinking about it, not just this time at the club, but before too.
     "Why?" He asks, tucking his hands in his pockets. Just the simple fact that he asked me that almost makes me cry, my vision blurred again.
    "He raped me," I tell him, feeing a ton of bricks being lifted from my shoulders. "A few times, but it happened again the other night. He came into the bathroom and forced himself onto me. Shooting him was the only thing I could think to do. I wasn't expecting them to even do damage, just get me enough time to run."
    His expression hardens, hands balled into fists. The veins in his arms and hands threaten to explode, nearly popping out from his skin. Looking at him like this, I feel like a little kid who's gonna get in trouble.
    "When was the first time?" He asks through clenched teeth, grinding his jaw angrily.
    "When we were together. I was too scared to tell anyone," I say. He lets out a breath that sounds like he got punched in the stomach.
    "You didn't tell anyone?" I shake my head. I'm sure he knows I told Alaric long ago.
    "I-I'm not trying to make you feel worse than you already do, but this could have been handled. You could have come to-"
    "You never listen," I say, shrugging. "I didn't think you'd care." He scoffs, shaking his head.
   "You could have come to me!" He yells, the veins in his next protruding. "I could have helped you. That isn't something you don't go to someone about. You needed me. You're my fucking daughter, if something happens to you I won't hesitate to do something about it."
    His words are ones that I never thought would come from his mouth. I never thought he would tell me he cared, even if it is while yelling.
    "It hurts so bad, dad," I cry. He nods, wrapping his arms around me. I bury my face in his shoulder, taking in the familiar scent of metal and cologne. My hands grip the back of his shirt for dear life my sobs are the only thing to be heard.
    "I'm here for you, even when it seems like I'm not, I always am. I love you," he says, smoothing down my hair. I smile through the tears.
     "I love you too."
    
    AN: Well...that was eventful. Personally, I thought it was time for Santi to be the daddy he knows he can be 😊 I really hope you guys enjoyed!
    Question: What do you think will happen with Atticus and Bex?