Warning!
this chapter deals with suicide
and the aftermath because of that.
please take caution while reading.
*also! i know how annoying it is when a character cries all the time, so just bare with me through the next couple of chapters. the best thing about stories to me is how they portray human emotions and how realistic a person writes it. that's what i hope to accomplish in this story! losing a parent is not easy, so ana will be in the grieving process for awhile. so, bare through the tears lmao. sorry for the rant. love u besties;)*
"Dear Anastasia,
I married your dad when I was twenty five, and It was the happiest I ever thought I could be. I never truly imagined anything could top it. It was just him and I, and that's the way I wanted it to be. You see, people always say how the greatest joy accomplished is having a child. And you truly don't understand that feeling until you're in it yourself. Marrying your father and getting away from that sad, small town in Ohio was what I thought was the happiest moment of my life. But, how wrong I was. When I got pregnant with you I was beyond terrified, and I honestly didn't think I would be able to do it. But Charlie never doubted it for a second. And for a few months it was that way for a while. I knew I should have been over the moon, but I couldn't get passed my skepticism. Charlie never gave up, everyday he'd bring home baby clothes and things to build a nursery. I was jealous of his beaming joy, and I couldn't understand why I wasn't sharing in it. But as time grew on and the more people I talked to, I learned that the feeling was quite common, and the only remedy was time. So, I did. I gave it time. Because sure enough, when I saw your first ultra sound picture I was the happiest woman in the world. I had an actual visual of you then, proof of what everyone was telling me about. And then it all changed, all I could think of was you. Everyday I talked to, read and sung to you. You were becoming my greatest joy just like everyone said. And when you were born, it only amplified. I felt on top of life with you and Charlie. Unbeatable, unstoppable. In a way, I felt like I had it all. But then your dad got sick, and our lives slowly began falling apart. I felt like my safety net was diminishing, like the very thing that kept me sane was being swept out from underneath me. And then when he died, I felt like my soul had been crushed. The pain was a feeling that outlasted anything else. Losing the love of your life is a feeling I hope you never have to endure, and I hope you will never be able to understand why I threw myself away because of it. I made you grow up to fast, made you become the adult. You took care of me when I should have been taking care of you. I'm sorry, Ana. But I can't go on. I'm not, nor will I ever be the same woman I used to be. God knows how much I love you. And please trust me when I say that I'm doing this for you. Me being here is holding you back. I've seen it. Go out in the world and be free. Be with Michael. Forget about me and move on. Just always know that I love you, and you've been my greatest accomplishment in this life. Forgive me, my darling- Mom."
Michael took a breath as he finished off the letter, looking up to observe the girl in front of him. Ana had not changed, and he was surprised to see no tears falling down her face. He watched her for a few moments, wondering if she was going to say anything. He didn't know how to feel about the letter. He was glad the words weren't cruel and violent, but he couldn't help the anger he felt because of it. Despite how much he disliked Helena, he was angry she had chosen to leave and cause her this great amount of pain.
Slowly, Ana turned her face towards Michael, freezing him on the spot. She stared into his eyes, blood smeared against her face. "Read it again." Her voice had an audible break.
He narrowed his eyes. Had she not been paying attention? Nevertheless, he didn't dare deny her of her request. Michael watched her eyes begin to shine, and he took a breath as he began reading again. Her eyes began leaking slow tears as she let out soft whimpers, the words he was reading beginning to have an impact on her.
"Read it again." She cried once he had finished again.
He frowned, feeling his heart ache at the sight of her tears. His blue eyes held sympathy, and he gently caressed her hand. "Ana, you should-"
She shook her head, letting out a sob. "No, I want to hear it again."
He swallowed nervously, his eyes going back to the words. Her sobs began filling the rooms, short sobs with gasps of air. It sounded almost like she was having difficulty crying, and his eyes kept averting back to hers. Her hand was gripping his tightly, and she watched his lips as he spoke. He got halfway through the letter before he decided he couldn't read anymore.
"Ana, let-"
"No!" She snapped at him with tearful eyes. She let out a sob as she shook her head. "Michael, I need you to read it again."
Her sobs stilled, her breath becoming choppy and short as she breathed. His own eyes teared up again, and he ever so slowly brought his forehead to hers. He caressed the back of her neck, listening to her pained breathing as she tried to force back her tears. "No." He whispered. "I'm not reading it again."
Her eyes closed as her forehead leaned against his, and her hands gripped the fabric of his jeans as she let out a small cry. "Michael."
The way she said his name caused him to let out a tear. It was a mixture of disbelief and realization all at once. He knew she was close to the edge. "It's okay." He whispered back, kissing the bridge of her nose.
He didn't know what was the right thing to say, so he simply followed his heart. "You can cry, Ana. You can let go. I won't let you lose yourself."
He was practically reading her mind, because Ana was desperately trying to keep herself from falling over that edge. To hide herself away from the grief that she had experienced those years ago. Her mother was dead, she knew it wasn't a dream. But she was battling away the pain like a soldier, and she knew she wasn't going to be able to fight much longer.
Michael rubbed his thumb against her cheek, and he slowly pressed his lips to hers in a delicate kiss. A kiss that said a thousand words in one simple motion.
And then it happened. Into the kiss, her lips parted and she let out a pained sob. And one by one, they rained out of her like bullets. He pulled her closer to him and he let her lay her head on his lap, one arm laid underneath her waist as the other was placed on her back. His head rested against her shoulder blades, and he let out his own quiet sobs as she screamed out her pain into him.
It was like this for hours. Screams of pain and heartache filled the room while they laid in a pool of blood. She cried for so long, and he wondered if she would ever stop. Even if she didn't, he wouldn't mind. He'd never let her go.
But eventually, she did stop. And Michael had realized she had fallen asleep. He hated the blood that inhabited her, tainting her beautiful skin like a poison. But he couldn't bring himself to wake her. She was able to escape her pain for awhile, and the thought of him taking that from her seemed impossible.
So, he let her sleep, ignoring the numb feeling of his legs. He could only see half of her face, due to her curled against his lap, and he gently ran his fingers through her hair. His back leaned against the wall, and he let his mind wonder.
Not only for her, but Michael changed in that moment. The perspective of his mind changed, his ambition. A lot of things became cleared for him, and he felt like he was finally able to see his path. There was so much evil in the world, so many evil acts. And Ana had only had a small taste of it.
His mission was to bring forth the apocalypse for his father, a father he had never met nor did he think even loved him. The world was to be wiped out so he could raise a new population in his father's image. He would do that, but for a reason that no one else knew about.
Michael would bring the end times for Anastasia. He would get rid of the evil for her. It would be them in the end, and no one would be able to ever bring her pain. He'd protect her, just like he was always meant to. Everyday she was in danger, and it kept him on edge with every passing second. He couldn't live like that, knowing that any given moment something could take her away from him.
So, while she slept, he stayed wide awake as he thought of the future safety he would bring her.
~~~
Anastasia woke several hours later, but Michael had yet to move her. He simply let her lay there while he gently rubbed the muscles of her back. Her eyes were open as she stared off into space, mind reeling with the day's events. She still felt in a state of denial, despite how real she knew everything was. She also felt confused, out of place. When her dad had died, she had to take care of Helena. She pushed back her own mourning to help her mother through her own. But now, Helena was gone and she had no one to take care of.
Should she still be crying? God knows she wanted to. She felt like screaming all over again. But it didn't feel right. Surely, there had to be something for her to do. There always had been before.
Her mind was loud with thoughts as she weighed her options, and Michael watched her with worry. He had never had any experience in this before, and he felt like he was making things worse with his confusion. Miriam was surely stewing in anger again from his absence, but he payed her no mind. Things were going to change soon, and he would catch his mother figure up to speed. Besides, he wasn't going to rush home in Ana's state. No, he'd stay there as long as she needed him to.
The girl took a breath, finally lifting her self of Michael's lap as she looked to the blood on the floor. He looked at her with worry, eyes wide in surprise at her movement. She pushed her hair away from her face, swallowing as she tried to speak word. "I think...I should go to work."
Michael was taken back by her words, and he watched her in disbelief. Firstly, she was in no state to be working. Secondly, he didn't feel comfortable with her leaving. "You should stay here, Ana." He softly grabbed her hands, lifting her chin slightly to look at her. "They'll understand. You don't have to work today."
It wasn't about "having" to, it was about her wanting to. And maybe not even that, but she felt like it was expected. It was what she did when her dad died, and frankly she didn't know what else to do. If she didn't do anything she'd lose her mind. She had her time to cry, she had her moment of grief. But now, it was time to push forward and endure life just like she had before.
Ana shook her head, eyes flickering as she looked to him. "N-no, I should-"
"No, you don't." Michael spoke with a firm, yet gentle tone. He shook his head softly, caressing her cheek. "Not today. Just please...stay with me today." He hoped it didn't seem selfish, because the boy was practically begging for her to stay. He may not have been there to see the way she closed herself off when her dad had died, but he knew she was trying to repeat the process all over again.
Charlie died and she went to work. Now, Helena was gone and she felt like she had nowhere to push her grief. So, she'd work until she drove herself mad. That was the vision in Michael's head, he could see it. And he knew her well too, because that was exactly what the girl had planned. Though, she didn't realize it herself.
Ana stared at him, sticky blood and dry tears on her face as she sniffed dryly. She nodded softly, feeling slightly sick to her stomach. "Okay." She wanted to work, but she was thinking of him like she always did. She didn't want to disappoint him, despite the fact that her mother had just taken her life.
Michael swallowed nervously, mulling over his next decisions.
"We should clean this up." Ana spoke, looking to the blood they sat in. He directed his attention away from the floor, looking to the blood that covered her. He couldn't stand to see it anymore.
"That can wait. You should change out of those clothes." He offered his hand for her to grab, watching to see if she was going to deny his words again.
Ana pursed her lips, he kept pushing back the things she wanted to do. The things she felt like she had to do. But nevertheless, she was too exhausted to argue any further. She took his hand, and he wrapped the other around her waist as he guided her off the ground. Her once white shoes clicked against the floor as they walked slowly, leaving the red mess of the day behind them.
Helena's was the closest bathroom, so he didn't think much about it as he guided her into the room. His only goal was to get the blood off of her. He leaned her against the sink, her back to the mirror on the wall behind her.
Michael suddenly grew awkward. Should he undress her? He had thought about it many times, due to his hormonal thoughts. But now it just didn't seem right. He didn't want to take advantage of her. He brushed off his thoughts, looking through the drawers to find a washcloth he could use. Ana's eyes slowly observed her mother's clothes all over the floor.
Once he found what he was looking for, he dampened the rag and put it in her hand. She looked at it with foggy eyes.
Michael cleared his throat, he didn't even realize he had blood on him himself. "I'll go get you a change of clothes. I'll get those comfortable ones you like." He offered a smile, walking out of the bathroom with purpose in his step.
Ana watched as he disappeared, looking down to the rag as she began to shake slightly. She turned around, slowly taking in her shocking appearance as her eyes began to tear up once again. She blindly followed his instructions, bringing up the rag to her forearms as she began wiping away the blood from her body. She kept her hands moving, but her eyes traveled over her mother's things that littered the sink.
Her eyes settled on a framed picture of the two, one that looked to be from when she was only a mere toddler. Her hands kept moving, but a soft sob escaped her throat as she looked at the picture. Her mother's energy of the room bringing her back to her grief that she was trying to push away.
She felt a hand wrap around her wrist, and she looked to the mirror to see his expression watching her with sad eyes. She sniffed loudly, looking back down as she continued scrubbing her arms. "I'm doing it, I-"
"Let me." He interrupted, turning his head to look toward her as she fought off her cries.
She shook her head, hands shaking. "No, I- Michael, I should go to work." She cried, turning her tear stained face to meet his blue eyes.
"No." He said simply. "Let me help you today. Grieve today. Tomorrow you can do whatever you want, I won't stop you." He kept his eyes on hers, his hand slowly taking the rag away from her shaky hands.
Oh, how she wanted to argue. He was making her quite frustrated, really. But despite how much she wanted to escape the apartment and leave, she wasn't sure if her tired legs would even make it that far. She was releasing small cries, and he moved so she could lean against his chest.
She didn't cry nearly as hard as before, but they were steady and filled the room with heartache. He kept her as modest as he could while he cleaned her up. First, he started with her neck while she leaned against him, moving her hair as he rid her of blood. Then, he picked up her limp arms and softly scrubbed her skin from where she had missed. His arm was around her waist as he held her up, and his thumb circled her uniform covered skin soothingly.
Then, he gently sat her on the edge of the bathtub, where she cried against his shoulder as he ran the cloth up and down her legs. He was fighting a battle inside of him, because despite how much he hated the pain his girl was in, he couldn't help that part of him that was happy that Helena was gone. He may not have had the chance to meet her, but he knew she was the reason Ana's life turned out the way it did. She didn't deserve that, none of it. And he was going to make it all better for her, the world would be made not only in his father's image, but also for Anastasia's.
He finished cleaning the uncovered surfaces of her skin, and he needed to get her out of the bloody uniform. But he remembered consent was one of the most important things of a relationship, even if the two hadn't labeled themselves. He slowly sat down the rag, bringing a hand to caress her thigh while the other held the back of her head. He stayed like that for a moment, listening to her cry as he thought over his words. He felt awkward about it, and apart of him debated calling for Fiona. But truthfully, he wanted to do everything himself. He didn't want anyone else taking care of her, that was his job.
Anastasia gave into the grieving like he had told her to. Just for today, she told herself. Today she would let him do the work, today she would lean on him. She had never allowed that before, but now she would. Just for today. She cried against him steadily, barely even registering the feeling of him cleaning her of her mother's blood.
"Ana?" He whispered into her hair, kissing the shell of her ear repeatedly. "Can I take the dress off of you?" He cringed at his words, hoping he wasn't making her uncomfortable. She didn't answer him, she simply cried. Honestly, he didn't think she would mind, too wrapped up in her pain to stop him. But he couldn't bring himself to move his hands to the zipper that laid on her back. He needed to hear her say that it was okay.
"Ana." He forced out, rubbing his fingers against the bumps of her spine. "I need to know that it's okay. I-"
"It's okay." He felt her lips part as she whispered the words against his shoulder, her cries settling into sniffles and soft whimpers.
He nodded, swallowing back his fear. He couldn't dilly-dally, he couldn't let his fear freeze him up. No, she needed him right now. She couldn't do it herself, so he needed to take care of her. Just like he wanted to. So, he kept her as modest as possible, leaving her in her undergarments as he unzipped the blood stained dress off her body. He didn't stare at her, despite how much he wanted to. So many times he had thought of a moment like this, but never once did he imagine it happening under such circumstances.
He kept his head against her shoulder, just like she was doing with him, and he dragged the cloth over her torso and against the muscles of her back. She wasn't crying anymore, and he figured she had fallen asleep again. She was practically naked against him, but the energy of the room wasn't awkward like he assumed it would be. If anything, it just made him more determined to take care of her, the bond between them strengthened.
When he finished, he lifted her head to see that she was, in fact, asleep. He didn't want to leave her in just her undergarments, but he didn't want to fumble around with her limbs as he tried to slip on her clothing and wake her again. So, he carefully lifted her in his arms, her cold body pressed against his chest and making his heart swell with warmth.
He carried her into her bed, settling her under the thick, purple blanket as her body laid limp against it. He stood there for awhile, debating whether or not to climb in beside her. He had never hesitated before, but everything seemed different right now. After staring at her for several minutes, he decided it unlikely that she would wake up any time soon. Carefully, he moved to lay beside her, but he didn't settle himself under the blanket with her. She had barely any clothes on, and he didn't want her to wake up alarmed. He curled his arm around her blanket covered body, pulling her to his chest as she slept peacefully.
It was still early in the evening, so there were times were she woke up in the middle of the night confused and upset. He never knew what to say to make her feel better, so he continued reading Little Women from where she had left off several days before.
So, Anastasia let him take care of her like he wanted to, she had her day to grieve. But just like Michael suspected, when they both woke up in the early hours of the morning, Ana began her day just like any other. She showered, changed into her clothes and made herself coffee. He was surprised when she didn't bring up the lack of clothing on her body, but truthfully he was thankful she didn't. He didn't want things to be awkward between them.
He didn't plan on going back to Miriam's until later that evening, and he was slightly nervous with how she would take the news of why exactly he didn't spend much time at home. So, he spent the day with Ana, more so watching her. He helped her clean up the mess in Helena's room, and he assisted her in the laundry and other chores around the house. He squeezed her hand on occasion, letting her know that he was there.
He tried to bring up conversation, but he never knew what to say. It was obvious she didn't feel like small talk anyways. He walked her to work, hand in hand as they watched other people's lives pass by them. And when they arrived, she turned to him before they could head inside.
"We're gonna be busy tonight." She said quietly, looking up to him. He nodded, adjusting his hold on her hand.
"I doubt we'll have much time to talk." She added, hoping he would get the hint. She wasn't tired of having Michael around, but she really, really, just wanted to work without having his worried stare on the back of her head.
And she saw the exact moment where he realized her words, because the look of hurt slightly shown in his eyes. "Oh. O-Okay." He gave a small smile, causing guilt to seep through Ana's eyes.
"I just think you should spend some time with Miriam." And it was true, she was sure his mother figure was worried off the charts about his absence.
Michael let go of her hand, glancing down the street towards the direction of his house. "Yeah, you're right." He really needed to move along with his plan anyways. Chalking up his hurt, he turned to her with a smile. "Can I see you tomorrow?"
She forced a smile for his sake, though he knew it held no real emotion. "Yeah." She breathed. "I'll have pie for you. Eleven O'clock."
She would miss him for the day, but she needed just some time for herself. Time for her to settle back into her regular routine.
"Okay." He gave a small chuckle. He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a soft, sad kiss.
The two parted ways, and despite how much Ana had wanted the day to herself, working with his empty seat in the room only made her spirits crumble further.