Shadows Taller Than Our Soul (Cordelia Goode x Billie Dean Howard x Reader)

Part 5

"Billie we need to get her upstairs, the girls can't see this." Cordelia's body twitched with anxiety and her voice trembled as she tried to make herself clear.

"Sweetpea," Billie mumbled into your hair, "we need to stand up, okay? You can lean on me."

The three of you stumbled up the stairs at a much slower pace than what Delia would have been comfortable with. You had your arms looped around their necks loosely and they had an iron grip around your waist, holding you up when you could no longer hold yourself.

Bille sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you down into her lap, cradling you like an infant as you curled into her; tears fell freely but the energy to cry eluded you, the numbness you delved into as a form of escape shrouded you now, leaving you no choice but to withdraw into nothingness.

She cried as she held you, rocking back and forth in an effort to soothe herself just as much as she tried to soothe you; a potion of guilt and regret burned her whisky eyes and she shook with the force of the reality she was faced with, her chest burning as the flames of anguish licked at her heart.

Cordelia had sprinted into the bathroom, turning on the water in a hurry to get you cleaned up before you gave in to the choke hold of exhaustion; she suspected you'd sleep through the night uninterrupted despite your tendency to have nightmares when you were upset. She closed the door behind her to hide the moment when she crumbled and the tears she shed infused the bathwater with her pain as she sobbed under the disguise of the running water. This was her fault. Billie wanted to fight for you and she just gave up, and look at you now.

She had loved you forever, but the way her affection was now poisoned with the heartache you harboured made her body tremble and she clawed at the tiles to support herself in standing as she choked on her own self-loathing.

You didn't remember Billie guiding you into the bathroom or Cordelia peeling off your sweat-stained clothes, nor did you recall the way manicured nails traced over every bruise that littered your skin, logging each time your tender heart had been hurt. You only remembered the sensation of the water rising around your skin as you sunk and the tight grip Delia held you with as she helped you sit. You could remember the sensation of the steam that caressed your dull skin, soothing your aches as you settled into Billie's embrace where she sat at the edge of the bath.

Cordelia had stormed into the greenhouse to collect the paste she would use to heal your bruises, though her heart sunk with the suggestion that she couldn't heal your mind after the abuse you had endured.

"Hot" you mumbled, turning your head into Billie's chest, gripping her blouse with a force that turned your knuckles white. She wrapped her arms around your damp torso, resting her chin atop your head, "I know darling, it will help with the aching."

She pried your hands away from her so she could move to kneel, tracing your skin lightly as she washed off the blood that stained your arms and your face. You brought your knees into your chest and stared at your bruised toes while she lathered your damp hair, scratching your scalp again the way you loved.

When Cordelia returned, they hauled you out of the water and you whimpered at the way the cool air gnawed at your skin, turning your already purple bruises a darker shade. You slipped into that state of distance again, fixing your gaze on the light that glowed above you as they shuffled around you, taking turns to hold you up on your weak legs and dry you off before rubbing in the soothing paste and pulling a pair of Cordelia's pyjamas over your head. Perhaps if you were in the right mind you would have noticed it was the pair you always borrowed from her, claiming you slept better with them. Though when you stared at the clothing with a dull expression Cordelia's heart tightened.