"There are all these moments you think you won't survive. And then you survive."
-David Levithan
This isn't important, but I really want a cookie right now.
chapter 26
Obsidian and Adriel didn't say a single thing about Bar's scars.
They, at first, stared for a moment and served the damage as if they were calculating just how many times his father had to beat Bar to get those results and then moved on, as if witnessing a crime and having no desire to report it.
They didn't look at the self-harm lines crossing over his wrists, they didn't gape at the whip marks going over his spine.
They didn't ask questions, either.
Adriel just asked if they wanted to play chicken first or marco-polo and like that, they were just four teenagers in a pool, goofing around.
Bar was relieved.
He didn't have to lie. He didn't have to make up some fake fight just to cover for his pathetic father's ass.
He was just able to be himself... Bar liked it.
But then— then it happened.
Obsidian and Adriel didn't notice but Bar did.
He watched Clementine get out of the pool, the water trickling down her skin making it seem like it was glowing, her wet curls tugged to the side and showed off the neck that Bar wanted to mark up.
Her swim shirt over her bikini and Bar saw as the shirt got caught on the ladder, feet already in motion to help but Clementine didn't notice.
She stumbled, her knees crashing into the tiles next to the edge, and her shirt ripping— the sound of the fabric tearing echoed and exposed her in just her bikini.
The scar just wasn't on her face.
No, it curved from the left side of her collarbone and down, edged in a jagged line toward her right hip and swerving over her thigh in some kind of cruel signature.
It was a white, angry line too. Bar could tell that it had been done under the pretense of causing pain.
It was made on purpose.
And it caused a bone-deep kind of rage to settle within Bar, something primal; something that had his broad shoulders tensing and for his fists to clench.
But this wasn't time for such trembling anger, this wasn't the time to be full of ire and unreasonable.
Bar knew that.
Bar didn't stare, he didn't even look at Clementine's voluminous body as he quickly grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his goddess's shoulders, making her jerk as she came out of the shock.
"I..." Clementine didn't know what to say— she just looked up at Bar.
He wanted to say something. He wanted to ask: how does someone as kind as you get a scar like that? How did whatever greater being that's out there think you could deserve that? How? Why? When?
But he didn't say anything.
The horror in her eyes was answer enough; he wasn't meant to see that.
Bar, the towns beast— her beast, wasn't meant to witness what cruelty had befallen Clementine and whose tale now would be forever told by her skin.
Even after she saw his scars.
But the goddess didn't ask him anything then, either.
Bar had no expectations of her explaining to him what happened but he was curious— a hungry curiosity that made him gently hold her as she shakily told her brother they were going to go get changed.
It was a curiosity that stole his attention away, that didn't even have him notice the elevator ride or the silent way Clementine walked the whole way towards her room.
It was a curiosity that had his head swimming.
Bar's scars were like burn marks on paper, something unsightly. Something disturbing, an echo of danger.
But hers... they were something different entirely.
Bar understood now that Clementine wore her scars like she wore earrings that she could hide behind her hair. She did nothing to minimize the one on her face but wore long sleeves that hid the rest easily.
Bar knew the shame that coexists alongside pain; alongside abuse.
He knew the mental damage of what something like that scar was could case.
Bar felt that, if he asked about them, she'd laugh and say: they were a decoration not yet ready to be seen but always put up— this holiday is all year round.
Bar didn't know how she handled anyone— including the three of them who witnessed her tumble and what laid underneath that now torn shirt— seeing what marred her skin without freaking the fuck out.
He had freaked out when Clementine saw his scars.
How was she so calm?
If that was him and his scars, Bar didn't know what he'd do but it wouldn't be pretty.
His scars were something he kept close to his chest— literally and figuratively— and they weren't for public knowledge. This he'd keep to himself. This wasn't meant to be looked at and viewed as if it was an exotic animal at the zoo.
Even if, on most days, Bar felt like he was a lion in a cage, roaring to get out but everyone around him was deaf.
And Bar, despite what he thought, didn't know how the little goddess felt about him seeing her scars so he kept his gaze away.
The little goddess didn't mean for him to see, so he'd try not to until she was comfortable and said so.
Bar had very great respect for Clementine, after all.
He knew how to respect a boundary even when he didn't know why it was put into place.
"Sweetheart," Bar began softly, not quite knowing what to say or do. "Are you okay?"
Clementine nodded, "I'm fine— I-I just didn't... um, expect that."
Bar knew what she meant. He would've seen eventually but even inevitable things can be shocking and painful.
"I'm sorry," Bar truly meant it as he places a soft kiss to her forehead. "That I saw without your consent, babygirl."
"It's okay, grumpy." Clementine, with slightly watery eyes, kissed Bar and then pulled away. "I'm going to, to get d-dressed."
Bar nodded and watched as she timidly stumbled off.
The brute didn't want to leave the goddess by herself when she had that upset, isolative look in her eyes but he had to.
Quickly getting dry and dressed into his shorts, since his piercing were still wet along with his necklace and he no longer cared if Clementine saw his scars, before going out into the maze that was her house and tried to find her room.
He didn't, and what he found were six pairs of wide, blue eyes staring at him.
Six sets of blue, unrelenting, unblinking eyes that belonged to six different, disturbingly similar blonde, shockingly copy and paste women.
They couldn't be older than in their twenties but a couple of them looked around Bar's age.
Each of them were wearing a different color. One the shade of grass in the morning when it's twinkling with dew, one the color of crimson blood, one a deep blue like the sky at dusk right when it's beginning to fill with stars, one a bright white like the morning clouds after a thunderstorm, one like a fox's fur, and one like the bright petals of a lilac.
"Uh," Bar was frozen, unsure, and outnumbered by far.
His beastly, tattooed body was well exposed, along with his scars, and the women didn't miss the way his muscles rippled when his biceps flexed by accident.
He didn't know how he'd react with people seeing his scars but apparently, this was it— paralyzed, tense, and confused.
"Who're you, handsome?" Fox-fur dared to ask, a sharp eyebrow raising as she glanced over the brute. "One of Obby's friends?"
The way she called him handsome made him cringe but warning bells off went off by the way she said Obby and Bar tensed.
That sounded so much like the little goddess that it almost gave Bar whiplash.
These women... they were so different than his Clementine. He didn't know what to expect but it wasn't this.
And what a horrible way to meet your girlfriend's family. Half-naked, slightly worried, and unprepared.
"I wouldn't say I'm his friend," Bar tried to put warmth into his voice, to appear nice, but it came out cold and unattached. A habit that unfortunately was brought out whenever he wasn't around the little goddess or Gwen. "I think he really fucking hates me actually, I'm Clementine's."
The women blinked. Two had shocked smiles on their face, and one snorted.
"You're Emy's... you're her boyfriend?" Morning-dew sounded so surprised and it made Bar narrow his eyes, not even able to entertain the idea of what they might be thinking. "But... I didn't know she wasn't seeing anyone and you look—"
"Like she's way too fucking good for me?" Bar filled in, noting the way the sisters' eyes widened, obviously not what they were going to say. "On the subject, do you know where my incredibly beautiful, smart girlfriend is? This place is a goddamn maze."
"I'll text her to meet us here," The one who laughed and dressed like the clouds chirped, leaning forward, a smile on her lips. "What's your name? Are you really her boyfriend?"
"I'm Red," Bar didn't lose his tense posture, but he did lean against the wall and cross his ankles, wishing he put on his shirt or at least grabbed his phone. "And yeah, I'm hers."
"Is that going to change anytime soon?"
That made Bar glare as he snarled out, "No."
He didn't want to be talking to them. He didn't like feeling interrogated.
"Hm," Clouds leaned back into her seat, fingers typing for a second before her blue eyes were back on Bar. "My name's Opal, if you were wondering."
"I wasn't."
These women, unlike Obsidian, weren't anything like Clementine. No minty eyes. No freckles. No forehead wrinkle. No softness to their sharp cheekbones.
Bar had no extra kindness to spare for them.
And they made him feel— uncomfortable.
"Oo, I like him," Fox-fur laughed a laugh that sounded like a raven's caw. Clementine's always sounded like a giggle rolling over itself; a little strange but cute. How are they related? "I'm Topaz. The one in the blue is Phire, the one in that hideous green thing is J-J, that one—" She points to the one with the shirt like blood. "—is Rue, and the last one is Amy. We're Emy's older sisters."
Bar knew that.
He knew their full names too, not just their nicknames. Opal, Topaz, Sapphire, Jade, Ruby, and Amethyst— not AJ, Clementine made that clear while talking about her siblings.
Everything the little goddess told him, or he asked about, Bar dutifully tried to remember.
He liked knowing things about her.
Bar, newly found, didn't like her siblings much. Or at least Opal— who seemed rather judgemental.
"That's nice," Bar said, coldly brushing her off in the nicest way he could. "I want to be... approachable and talk and make a good impression and all that shit because that's what a polite boyfriend would do for their girlfriend's family but I'm going to go find my babygirl and—"
"Ah," Amy grinned. "He calls her babygirl. Cute."
Yeah, Bar was definitely going to leave now. He kicked off the wall and turned, only to bump into a smaller, soft body that had the tension fall from his shoulder.
Clementine yelped as she stumbled slightly but Bar steadied her with a deep breath, their bodies pressed together.
And, right away, she noticed his frown and frustration.
"Oly," The little goddess places her hand on his cheek, and Bar leaned into it, safe in her touch. "Are y-you okay?"
"I met your—"
"Hey, Emy!" One of her siblings called from behind them. "We were just saying hi to your boyfriend, who you didn't tell us about." It sounded like a sneer and it had Bar's temper ticking. "Very... uh, out of your league."
When Obsidian said his family were all good people, he failed to mention they were bitches.
That's the thought that popped into Bar's head, along with a few colorful words.
"Out of her league?" Bar hissed, turning around. "What the fuck is that—"
"Oly," Clementine tugged on his hand, tone reprimanding, and Bar instantly stopped, though his glare didn't lessen. "It's okay."
"You don't need to lie," He began, moving his dark gaze between the now paling women— as if they were just realizing who Bar was and by something one of them faintly whispered, they were. "To get me to behave."
Clementine cleared her throat and stepped in front of Bar, having his arms wrap around her protectively.
How dare they insult what was his.
They were her goddamn sisters, shouldn't they care for her? Shouldn't they be nicer? Shouldn't they automatically think that their own flesh and blood is better than some fucking stranger?
What kind of people take a look at someone like Bar and see that as a chance to take a jab at their own sibling?
Bar didn't want an answer.
He would never do that to Gwen, or any of his best friends. And they wouldn't do that to him.
What kind of relationship did Clementine have with them?
"Why didn't y-you put on a, a shirt?" Clementine softly questioned, hand warm against his bare skin. "Did they int-introduce themselves?"
"I thought the only one who'd be seeing me was you," Bar replied, a bite to his tone as he looked at her six sisters, half of them had their eyes roaming his body. "I want to go put on my shirt but I don't know how to get back to the room, and yeah, I know who they are."
And he really wants them to just stop looking at him.
"I'll go get it for you," Clementine said, eyeing her siblings warily for a second before her minty eyes met the brute's. "Will you be okay here?"
Sapphire didn't let Bar answer as she said, "Oh, he'll be fine." She had a twisted look in her eyes. "Besides, I wanted to ask Red some questions."
"I, um," Clementine obviously didn't like the sound of that and, to be honest, Bar didn't either.
But he didn't want to be a bother.
"It's okay, sweetness," Bar sighed, kissed her forehead, and then moved down to kiss her nose too. "I can handle a few questions, please just get my shirt, alright? I'll play nice as long as they do."
In other words, he's going to turn really fucking mean if they insult Clementine again.
The little goddess frowned but nodded, "I'll be r-right back."
"When you do come back, don't go where I can't see you," Bar said, his tone polite but demanding. "I don't want to get lost again and I need to make sure you're okay."
Clementine rolled her eyes— and Bar squeezed her thigh warningly in response, although she squeaked she still managed to speak, "What am I, t-twelve?"
"From one to ten? Yes." Bar said, making a cute, light blush to spread up her neck and across her cheeks. "Don't walk too fast, either, Ms. Clumsy."
"I won't, Mr. Grumpy."
And then Clementine, with a reassuring squeeze of Bar's hand, departed to find Bar's shirt.
He was left alone with her sisters.
Great.
"So," Jade, who didn't talk to him before, leaned forward, green shirt contrasting her blazing azure eyes. "How long have you been with Clementine?"
"A while." Is all Bar said, no details. It wasn't the full truth, but they had been dating and he had liked her for a long time.
"How much do you like her?" Amethyst cut in.
"A lot."
"Do you love her?"
"Is that your business?" Bar retaliated, not knowing the answer.
It seemed early in their relationship to be throwing the word 'love' around like that, but it seemed too late in Bar's life to know the meaning either.
Is there a time limit to knowing when to use that word? A book to read to tell someone the do's and do-not's of loving someone?
It's... strange. Love is something everyone should experience first hand. When it has been ripped away and replaced with abuse, people like Bar no longer know when to dish it out.
People like Bar often only knew how to take; take beating, take insults from people, take hate, and horrible things, and knowledge when they shouldn't.
Broken boys often try to fill their cracks with things they shouldn't.
Bar didn't want to rush anything, to move too early. He didn't want to scare Clementine away.
"Love?" A deeper voice cut in— Obsidian, who just came in from the way Clementine left. "Who does who love?"
The sisters perked up, and Topaz answered, "We were asking Bar if he loved Emy. He didn't answer."
Bar refrained from snapping and saying, I did answer, just not the way you would've liked.
"That's not your business," Their brother stared at them, seeming to pass along a message through their matching scowls. "I need to talk to Red."
Sapphire motioned carelessly, "Talk away."
Like hell Bar would let them eavesdrop.
"Bye," Obsidian only mockingly waved, and with a scowl, Phire led the women away, Jade telling Bar that it was nice to meet him, which he grunted to in reply.
"They're..." Bar couldn't find a nice word for it. "A lot to handle."
"Yeah," Obsidian sighed, a towel around his neck with his swimming trunks still on. "They're gossipy, Sapphire's whole group is."
Bar rose his eyebrows, "You have groups?"
Just what kind of family was this? Dysfunctional.
Just like Bar's but in a completely different way.
"There's a lot of us, so we kind of stuck with our twin and then some," Obsidian explained. "Some of us get along, some of us really don't, but we each have like a group that we belong to. Emy is the only one outside of it all. The referee, I guess."
"Interesting." And slightly weird, but Bar didn't say that. "What groups are there?"
"Sapphire's, who include her twin J-J, Rue, Pearl, Amy, and AJ. Char's group, which is Ron, Pazzy, Garnet, and me." Obsidian gestured to himself. "Then Angelite's group, Emerald, Opal, and Diamond."
"Oh—"
"I'm sorry, I still don't like you." Obsidian bluntly said, thumbs rubbing his temples. Bar froze, shrugged off the slight hurt, and nodded. "But I still need to tell you something."
"I understand," Bar said, and he did. He didn't have the right to learn about their family through Obsidian, he didn't have a right to know the older twin and his dynamics and siblings. Even as Clementine's boyfriend. "What do you need to tell me?"
Obsidian stared intensely at Bar for a second, made sure Clementine wasn't in hearing range before decided to end the suspension.
"Emy treats the words 'I love you' like a grenade and you're a child playing with it," Obsidian warns. "The pin's still in. It's non-lethal, for now. But isn't everything? Isn't everything not dangerous until it is? And that's what you are now right? Dangerous? You're gonna pull the pin out, the bomb's going to go off. There's nothing you can do about it, just don't let it hurt her, okay? Your bomb doesn't have to break everything."
"We're not... ready for I love you." Bar said, holding himself slightly, feeling vulnerable in more than one way. "But that doesn't mean I don't deeply care for her. I won't— I won't let it break everything. I won't let it break anything."
The day Bar tells Clementine that he loves her, is the day he can say it and knows for sure she won't be hurt. That he can say it without overwhelming guilt.
"Oly, I-I got your, um, shirt?" Clementine walked into the room, minty eyes flashing between her twin and her boyfriend with questions in them.
Obsidian left the room with a slight backward glance.
His warning hung heavy in the air like how the smell of burnt wood sticks to clothes.
The brute, without hesitation, made his way across the living room to Clementine, his shirt ignored.
"Baby..." Bar trails off, eyes softening as his little goddess meets him halfway, her arms quickly wrapping around him as her face hides in his chest, sniffling. "What's wrong?"
"I, I don't want to t-tell you something."
Bar didn't know how to take that, "Then don't tell me."
Clementine frowned, and lead them to her bedroom. Once the door was closed and they were by the shelf of trinkets— that had the lilac dinosaur stuffie that Bar gave her on it.
"Are you okay?" Bar knew she wasn't, without her even saying anything, he could tell.
He just wanted to know how to help.
Clementine didn't answer, instead she asked Bar something, too.
"Do y-you know the worst part about being the, the child to parents who're m-more ghost to me than alive?" Clementine questioned, eyes watery as she stared hard at Bar, her fists shaking. He didn't like the hate he saw there, he couldn't understand the pain, he didn't want to know the consequences of being haunted that way.
But she'd tell him regardless.
"It's that when their c-child is hurt... they are there too late," She explained. "They worry after t-the fact. They don't care. Not a bit."
Bar waited, his eyes not leaving the goddess, and wishing he could hold her, to offer any comfort at that moment.
In her minty eyes, he could see the memories playing out before her. He could see the path they cut through her mind.
Bar wished he could create a new walkway, maybe trade her a memory full of love and peace for whatever pain she went through.
But he didn't have memories like that.
Bar knew that her pain was like her scar; forever etched into who she was. He couldn't just take that part away.
"What happened to you, babygirl?" Bar couldn't help but ask. His voice was soft and tender and caring but the look in Clementine's eyes was anything but.
Before him, she became a soldier without a battleground. A fallen warrior without a grave.
"What h-happened?" She repeated, a lithe finger tracing the scar going over her features. "So much." Her voice cracked and trembled, as if it couldn't bear the weight of what she said. "So m-much happened."
Bar frowned, eyes searching her face, not knowing what to say.
Clementine took a deep breath and went over to sit in the bed, patting the spot next to her.
Bar compiled and when he sat down next to her, the goddess climbed into his lap; bodies getting tangled and her head resting under the brute's chin, Bar finding his heart breaking a little less with her so near.
"Let's m-make a deal," Clementine murmured and Bar listened. "You, you tell me your full name and I'll tell you... I'll tell y-you how I got my scar."
Bar couldn't even be disgusted with himself, with his name, as he spoke. He was simply too concerned.
"Only if you want to, babygirl. I'll tell you my name, anyway."
"It's a deal?"
"It's a promise," Bar corrected.
They locked pinky fingers and Bar noticed her pounding heart as he traced imaginarily patterns into her back, his other hand playing with her hair.
"Y-you first," Clementine softly demanded. "Please."
Bar didn't hesitate.
"Bartholomew Lorenzo Maximilian Alessio— what you were trying to name that poor butterfly— Sebastian Red."
"Hm," The little goddess hummed, not saying anything for a moment. "I like your name."
"Oh, God." Bar tilted his head back and groaned. "You're going to name our kids something stupid like that, aren't you?"
Clementine's worries momentarily fell away as she laughed, moving up to grin at him, "Our kids, huh? You want to make mini-mes, grumpy?"
Bar swore underneath his breath lightly, his cheeks dusting pink, "Well... I... I always wanted kids." But he knew that he'd be a shit dad. Oh god— how was he supposed to make this less mortifying? Flirting. "And since you make me want to practice making them so often, it's not my fault my mind jumped there. You like my name. My shitty, excessively long name. Who knows what you'd want to name your kids."
"Didn't you say our k-kids?"Clementine, rather cheekily, corrected even though she became flushed.
Bar glowered at her and the little goddess giggled, joyfully poking the brute in his cheek, right where his most prominent dimple was.
"We're naming them something that's not even remotely stupid," Bar stated— simply and confidently. "Because I'm not going to have my kids hating me for naming them something like Bartholomew."
"I like Bartholomew," Clementine pouted.
Bar pointed at her, "That's exactly why I said what I said."
The little goddess sighed, and then a frown fluttered itself to her face and darkened her minty eyes into something sadder.
"My scar..." Clementine began and Bar willed himself not to tense. "Are y-you sure you want to know?"
"Yes," Bar nodded, tucking the little goddess closer to his body, feeling like he somehow needed to protect her from everything— her past, her fears, the world. "You told me that you wanted to know me... that you wanted to know the darker parts of me. I want to know you, and part of you is your past. No matter what you went through, I can handle it and I'll accept it. I'll accept you, babygirl."
Clementine took a deep breath nodded, and then told him. She told him everything.