𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐈𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬

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tw - abuse

tw - abuse

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ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵈᵃᵈᵈʸ ⁱˢˢᵘᵉˢ

Waking up to see blood on the walls, glasses smashed, and beer bottles strewn around the living room. Her mother's bruised and battered face was a haunting image that had become all too familiar since her very first memories. Until one day her mother did leave, along with her older brother. And she remained right where she was. Trapped with an abusive, drug addicted father and the dirty men that were permitted to stay the night whenever they pleased. 

Inevitably, soon enough, the blood on the walls had become her own. Her mother had left her to take her beatings, and for that Rachel despised her. Every aspect of her innocence lost at such a young age.

These days, she wasn't often found at home. Instead, she spent her nights at John B's place and her days with the Pogues. In all honesty, they were probably the reason she was still alive. The Pogues had stood by her through it all.

She lay awake on the pull-out couch at John B's place, lost in thought even though it was late. But she just couldn't seem to drift off to sleep, everything felt off. Suddenly, the sliding doors opened, and she sat up abruptly, her heart racing, fearing that it might be her father, the only person who could genuinely scare her. She shifted to the other side of the couch, preparing to call out for John B. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw JJ's figure in front of her.

"My God, JJ, you scared the living shit out of me. What's up?" she mumbled. But JJ remained silent. He sat down on the edge of the couch with his back to her. She didn't need to ask, she knew what had happened. She shuffled over to him, pulling herself onto his lap, facing him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. JJ sobbed silently, resting his head in the crook of her neck.

"Is it ever gonna fucking end?" JJ choked out in between sobs. "Because I don't know how much more I can take, I really don't."

She listened quietly, running her fingers through his hair in an attempt to offer comfort. She understood him all too well, every day, she felt the exact same way.

"I don't know, JJ. I really don't," she whispered under her breath. He clung to her tightly, trying to keep her close, but she gently pulled away and got up to turn on the lights.

"Don't, Rach, it'll just piss you off. I'm fine, seriously," he pleaded, fully aware of how seeing his father's violence infuriated her. 

She usually did her best to clean up the damage he had done. She turned to look at him as the lights flickered on, and her immediate reaction was to close her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm herself down. It wasn't that she was scared of blood or that she hadn't dealt with such situations before, but the mere thought of him getting hurt made her feel sick.

"Rach, it's fine, please just trust me and come back to bed," he begged, standing up and making his way over to her.

"No, it's not. We're 16 years old, JJ. We shouldn't have to deal with this crap!" she whispered angrily. Similar outbursts occurred every time they saw each other in this state. He stood silently, and she took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself. "Can you just lift up your shirt?" she asked, her tone more composed.

Instantly smirking, his mind quickly went elsewhere "Only if you lift yours up too" he grinned, attempting to distract her.

"No, I'm not joking around right now, JJ. Lift up your shirt," she spoke, and JJ sighed, revealing the bruises, some of them still in the process of forming. She was relieved that he wasn't bleeding from anywhere other than his face. Biting her lip, she contained her emotions and hurried to the bathroom to grab rubbing alcohol and a towel to help clean his face.

She knelt between his legs, carefully cleaning his wounds with the rubbing alcohol. "JJ, I think it needs suturing," she mumbled as she heard him sigh, handing her the steri-strips. The cut was small but deep enough. He pulled a face and clenched his jaw, prompting her to respond, "Don't fucking sulk, I'm just trying to prevent an infection."

She huffed with frustration, not actually mad at him, only frustrated with what had happened. As she pinched the skin together to apply the steri-strips, she felt JJ's hand gently grip her thigh for comfort. "Almost done," she whispered, quickly sealing the wound. His hand remained softly on her thigh, and she smiled. Then, she pulled him into a hug, recognising that all he wanted was to be comforted, even if he'd never admit it out loud.

"It was bad this time, why?" she asked quietly, concern in her voice.

"Well, I woke him up. He was asleep on the couch, and I shut the door too loud," JJ muttered, his hand rubbing comforting circles on her back to ease her anxiety. She felt guilty that he was the one calming her down, despite his injuries. But it was something they had grown accustomed to.

"Come on, we should sleep," JJ sighed, picking her up and throwing her onto the bed, making her giggle. She wriggled under the covers, immediately cuddling up to him. Somehow, with his arms wrapped around her, she dozed off almost instantly.

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