#trevor whump
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beetlecakes · 1 month ago
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There better be some good Trevor angst/whump this season. He’s growing weak LIKEEEE
I’m actually insane but I love him
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letthewhumpbegin · 8 months ago
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Wonder Woman (2017)
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sunsetelo · 3 months ago
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At work writing an outline for a new fic bc why tf do I want to write a Trevor sickfic.
THE GHOSTS CANT EVEN GET SICK SJIDJSJS
Whatever found family need it I guess
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femmmie · 1 month ago
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hi! if youre still taking whumptober prompts can I request something with Trevor and josh? maybe with Trevor getting hurt and josh comforting? thank you!
HAHAHA You know anon, this is the funniest thing. But I got the Joshes confused. So I hope you enjoy Trevor and Josh Fleury x)))))))) omg. Still I had fun with this fic!!!
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bubblespalace · 7 months ago
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Hetty fic bc I'm now fixated again
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Sometimes when I'm in the midst of inventing progressively shittier character traits for Cristien Belmont, I like to imagine that when he finally dies, Trevor and Richter will be waiting at the door of the afterlife with freshly shined weapons and fists primed for a pummeling.
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ms-ajt-whumps · 1 year ago
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The Machinist
Trevor Reznik- played by Christian Bale
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alpaca-clouds · 2 years ago
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Winter Whumperland 01: Returning Nightmares
This is me, trying out AMOW's Winter Whumperland Challenge.
Fandom: Castlevania (Netflix)
Characters: Adrian, Trevor, Marie (Trevor and Sypha's child)
Genre: Whump with some Fluff
Length: 958 words
Ao3 Link
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He had not been there, when his mother had been killed and yet in his dreams he so often was. Standing there, among a crowd, seeing her burn, the fire first blistering her skin, burning her hair and searing away that simple linen dress, before gnawing on her flesh. She would scream much longer than he knew people to scream during burnings like that. It was not the worst part about it, though. The worst part was, that he could only stand there and watch, himself unable to move, unable to stop them, unable to save her. He would just watch, utterly paralyzed with it.
At times he would wake at this point, but he did not this time. Instead, once more seeing his father arriving at the castle. He heard himself speak those words once more: “I will grieve with you, but I won't let you commit genocide.” As his father turned, the man Adrian had known for his entire life was gone. There was no loving father anymore, no man who would look at him with pride. There was only burning rage and a cold, cold hatred. As Adrian drew his sword, his father was already there, punching him, throwing him to the ground. And Adrian's heart was faltering. He knew he should command his sword to defend him, should get back up, but as he looked in this face that had been there for his entire life he could not. He screamed, when his father's claws buried themselves into his chest, when he realized that his father really was going to kill him.
It was this pain, that woke him. He opened his eyes, trembling. Sweat covered his face, even though it was a fairly chilly night. He took a few deep breaths, once his mind finally returned to the presence. It had been almost seven years ago. His father was dead. He had survived. He had a family of his own by now. Two wonderful humans sleeping by his side. A young child in a crib.
Rain was splattering against the window, as it was a stormy autumn night.
He had forgotten about one person sharing the bed tonight. “Papi?”
As he turned to the side he found Marie, who had been sleeping between Trevor and him. Right. As so often during nights like this, she had been unable to sleep, awoken by the thunderstorm earlier this night, fleeing to her parents’ bed.
“Everything is fine, sweetheart,” he whispered. He laid down again, turning to her. Softly he caressed her rosy cheeks. “I just had a bad dream.”
The six-year-old looked at him with a serious gaze. “I know bad dreams,” she said, as if he did not know it. After all bad dreams were the second most common reason for her to flee to their bed. He smiled softly.
“I know.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” she offered seriously, just as they would often offer it to her.
Mirroring his gesture, her little hands carefully put a strand of his hair behind his pointy ears.
He hesitated. She was still too young to hear about what had happened before she was born. She did not need to know more than she did already about the time his father tried to extinguish humanity from the face of the planet. Neither did she need to know that his mother had been burned as a witch. She knew that something bad had happened, of course. There were enough other children and youngsters in the village who had lost family to Dracula's attack. But she had never learned that the mad vampire king was her own grandfather. At least in spirit.
“I dreamt of the time my mother died,” he hence replied, not elaborating. “That's all.”
She took that in, her expression still ridiculously serious. “You miss her, right?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“I am sure that one day you will see her again,” she then decided with a smile, her hand now resting on his cheek.
He chuckled. Ah, maybe she was right of course. He supposed that even though he was immortal there would come a day when he would die as well. Killed in battle, probably. At some point even he would die. “You are probably right.”
There was a grunt behind Marie, as Trevor opened his eyes. “What are you two talking about in the middle of the bloody night?”
“Papi had had a nightmare,” Marie replied.
“Had he now?” Trevor looked at Adrian questioningly. There was instant worry in his gaze, making Adrian sigh.
“It's alright,” he replied. “I am alright.”
Trevor sighed, doing just the same as his daughter had before: Combing some loose hairs from Adrian's face behind his ear. “Tell me if it isn't, okay?”
“You know I will.” Careful to not squish Marie between the two of them, he leaned his forehead against Trevor's, for a moment just soaking in this familiar touch. The closeness. He was not alone. Even with his parents gone, he wasn't alone.
Being held by this man was always a balm on his soul. And somehow Sypha was still sleeping to all of this – as was little Simon.
Marie was the first one to yawn again. She closed her eyes, cuddling up to Adrian as she did. “Wake me, if you have another nightmare, will you, papi?”
“Of course I will,” he whispered, putting one arm around her.
He looked at Trevor once more, who smiled at him. Because despite everything… Things had turned out alright. The nightmares might never go away, just as those other little things and insecurities would stay. But he was alright. He had a family, people that loved him. He was going to be alright.
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lancedoncrimsonwings · 14 days ago
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Dragon Age is the whumpiest game honestly... I have to resist the urge to deliberately get my Rook hurt or jump in too deep water because those pain noises are on point 😬👌🏻
And watching my partner play 5 minutes of it is what made me play purely because of the whump ngllllll
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thewhumpyprintingpress · 11 months ago
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ABCs of Whump Cover Reveal and Preorders Open!
Hello everyone! It is my pleasure to unveil the fabulous cover of ABCs of Whump, designed by @demondamage.
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ABCs of Whump is now available to preorder on our Ko-Fi shop! The physical zine is priced at $13.99 and the digital version is $1.99. Preorders will be open from today, January 8, to March 10, 2024. Physical zines should ship out by early April, and digital zines will hit your inbox on April 2!
50% of profits from this zine will be donated to the Trevor Project, which provides crisis support to LGBTQ+ youth.
Now without further ado, I present to you the table of contents.
A is for Anaesthesia @callaeidae3
B is for Bad Dog @clickerflight
C is for Chains @burntcoffeeart
D is for Defiance @whumpingisfun
E is for Electrocution @onlywhump
F is for Faceless @kira-the-whump-enthusiast
G is for Gun @lightnavalgun
H is for Hiding @darkforestwarriors
I is for Incision @coyotehusk
J is for Javelin @whump-queen
K is for Knife @painsandconfusion
L is for Living Weapon @laffy-taffy-creations
M is for Migraine @the-slythering-raven
N is for Nails @whump-captain
O is if Oubliette @wildfaewhump
P is for Pain @soheavyaburden
Q is for Quiet @bloodytalonswhump
R is for Ransom @pigeonwhumps
S is for Sensory Deprivation @clickerflight
T is for Torture @whump-side
U is for Underwater @emcscared-whumps
V is for Vivisection @miseribusiness
W is for Whip @rizzamacka-whump
X is for X-Ray @demondamage
Y is for You @laffy-taffy-creations
Z is for Zip Ties @whumpsical
Make sure to go show some love to our partner in crime on this project, @befuddled-calico-whump. This has truly been an awesome project to work on, and every single one of these artists has done a fantastic job. I can't wait to share this zine with y'all!
Here are the links to preorder!
Physical zine
Digital zine
We're now also offering bundles of WPP books so you can stock up on your whumpy reading material
Physical bundle
Digital bundle
And if you want to peruse our whumpy wares, here's the general link to our shop.
Whumpy Printing Press Ko-Fi Bookstore
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steddieunderdogfics · 5 months ago
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For the hurt/comfort weekend, may I suggest the ongoing fic “count to thirty. breathe twice. repeat.” By WingedQuill!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/42662157
The summary: “Billy Hargrove doesn't keep his promise to Max. He doesn't keep it in a pretty spectacular fashion, actually. Instead of staying away from her friends, he murders one of them.
Unfortunately for Billy, Hellfire meets right after basketball practice. And fortunately for Steve, Eddie knows CPR.”
Steve is hurt super badly, and the party, Hopper, and Eddie (including Wayne and the Corroded Coffin guys) are there for him ❤️
count to thirty. breathe twice. repeat by WingedQuill
Rating: Mature
48,013 words, 17/? chapters
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Tags: Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, (really ao3 is "CPR" too basic of a tag for you?), Post-Season/Series 02, Hurt Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, the intimate rituals of saving your unattainable crush's life, the intimate rituals of murdering your rival in the locker room, Attempted Murder, Implied/Referenced Torture, rip steve's hair i should tag this fic MCD for that alone, Whump, this probs counts as whump let's be real, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, i continue my Branding(tm) of cutting off all my blorbos' hair, watch out trevor belmont ur next, Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ensemble Cast
Summary:
Billy Hargrove doesn't keep his promise to Max. He doesn't keep it in a pretty spectacular fashion, actually. Instead of staying away from her friends, he murders one of them. Unfortunately for Billy, Hellfire meets right after basketball practice. And fortunately for Steve, Eddie knows CPR. (Or: There is a clearly defined set of steps to keep someone's heart beating. There's no guide for the aftermath. Steve, Eddie, and everyone they love write one together.)
Thanks for the rec!
This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is Hurt/Comfort.
Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!
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ao3feed-jonmartin · 2 months ago
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oxford blood
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/NAwmQ7f by fossilgoblin Jon sticks a cigarette in his mouth on the first step he takes away from O'Hare International Airport, even though he didn't bother trying to sneak a lighter through customs. He shoulders his way into the 7-11 with it firmly between his teeth, buys the first green BIC he sees, and lights up the moment the door's swung shut behind him. America smells like pesticide and a landlocked mustiness he can't describe. And even as he'd bought his ticket back in Beijing, he hadn't been entirely sure what he was searching for. OR: Jon's in America. Jon gets MSG sick and calls Martin almost every night. Jon realizes he might be in over his head, in more ways than he anticipated, and finally accepts some help. An ode to grimy Ole Chicago, phone calls home, casual queer love, disability, amateur detective work, unlikely friendships, and all the weird shit in my Jonny Sims Spotify playlist. Words: 3245, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood, Julia Montauk, Trevor Herbert, Basira Hussain, Mentioned Elias Bouchard | Jonah Magnus - Character, mentioned Melanie King - Character, Mentioned Not-Them (The Magnus Archives), mentioned Georgie Barker - Character, many random American NPC's Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Additional Tags: Set in Episodes 107-113 | Jon's Trip to America, Getting Together, Phone Calls, Autistic Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, He/Him and They/Them Pronouns for Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gender Non-Conforming Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, ARFID, Whump, Sickfic, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Comfort/Angst, loving relationship, The Magnus Archives (Podcast) as a Workplace Comedy, The Mechanisms Were Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist's College | University Band, Fix-It of Sorts, Disabled Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Monster Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, almost canon compliant, I really fucking tried folx, Episode: e107 Third Degree (The Magnus Archives), MSG as a plot device read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/NAwmQ7f
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angstyaches · 3 months ago
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The Hexagon: Part Three
Parts One-Two
CW: prolonged hunger, insomnia, anxiety, hopelessness, fear of never seeing loved ones again, paranormal whump.
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48 Hours
They were quiet for a long time. The night was not.  
Shayne knew his restlessness was only making Charlie's anxiety worse, but staring up at the shimmering warded walls towering above them was making him feel incredibly nauseous. That, and the stillness, while the world was so active just beyond the hexagon, was unbearable.
He pulled himself upright, bringing his knees most of the way up to his chest. 
And looked. 
A few evenings ago, while he and Charlie had been walking, Shayne hadn't noticed a lot of demonic activity out here. Before the trap had activated, he'd been starting to think they'd made a mistake coming out here. They had, obviously; but for different reasons.
It was possible that the demons had all hidden, inherently sensing the danger that Shayne presented for them, or maybe he was known amongst all of them, not just the Mulberry inhabitants. But with their predator trapped, they shifted in and out of pockets of darkness at leisure.
Shayne had never had the chance to see them like this before – peaceful. He’d only ever seen them curious, furious, or terrorised by his presence.
Hunger bit relentlessly at his stomach, uncaring of the fact that he would have had to burn himself alive just to get to the creatures that it wanted him to chase down and devour.
In a way, being trapped freed him from that instincts, or, at the very least, knocked it on its ass.
The night air cooled the back of his damp shirt and set him shivering. His jaws ached from clenching his teeth and screaming. He rubbed at the sides of his face with both hands, then at his eyes when he realised how sore they were from looking through the wards. 
But he wanted to see. He wanted to watch the demonic dark in which he didn’t exist.
Buried in his mind were vague memories of staring into a large fish tank as a small child; Dahlia holding him close to the glass so that he could put his hand to it and imagine he was touching the colourful fish on the other side. This felt a bit like that.
Instead of appearing as pools of light-sucking shadow like the Mulberry demons, the demons here seemed to glisten as they shifted through the night. Like an animal's fur when damp.
Occasionally, two glistening puddles would come close to colliding, but the demons would simply observe one another, reveal a vague outline of a form using whatever remnants they’d consumed ,and then move along amicably.
Charlie rolled closer to him, still curled up on the ground. He let out a confused hum as he noticed Shayne’s upright position. 
Shayne cleared his throat but didn’t have the words to explain the morbid curiosity that had come over him. Lucy might have told him it was a defense mechanism, a way of wrapping up his sadness so he didn’t have to deal with it.
But that didn’t sound like the kind of conversation to burden Charlie with. Not now. Not here. 
Instead, he carded his fingers into Charlie’s hair. His skin crawled as he felt the blonde strands rise to meet his touch. He felt the misshapen horn that had sprouted from the left side of Charlie’s forehead, shorter and a little more gnarled than usual. When Shayne swept back the hair, the spiraling roots of the horn left their impression just beneath Charlie’s skin, but had taken on a pale, grey pallor rather than striking strokes of black. 
The effects of the wards were getting worse. If Charlie Too had been trying to fight through them, they weren't anymore, and Charlie himself definitely didn’t have the energy to spare.
“I wish I could have spoken to my parents,” Charlie said. 
Shayne gritted his teeth at the thought of Ingrid and Trevor.
“And Rin. And Jon and Nicole. And Belle. Just one more time, to...” Charlie sounded choked up, but he didn't cry. Shayne wished he would; the absence of tears was worse than a flood of them. “To tell them...”
Beyond the wards, a formless demon took momentary notice of the hexagon.
“That you love them?” Shayne asked.
Charlie exhaled sharply in agreement.
“Charlie...” Shayne blinked against the sting in his eyes and throat. “Those people already know you love the shit out of them.” 
The demon outside shifted into a vaguely arch-like shape and faded into nothing again. Shayne wondered if CT would be able to live like that soon, if they would be able to escape the hexagon, or if they’d still be trapped here... 
Shayne’s fingers tightened slightly around Charlie’s hair.  
... After. 
“You’re so good at making people feel loved. And warm. And safe.”
Shayne realised it hadn’t even occurred to him to reassure Charlie that he would see his family again. Neither of them would have believed it. Of course, people would realise they were missing, but even if they came looking, they wouldn't know where to look.
Despite all of that, Charlie didn't flinch, or look up in despair. There might have even been the trace of a smile straining to lift the corner of his mouth. “Thank you, lovely.” 
Shayne swallowed, unsure that he deserved any thanks. How? How had he been so careless with something as precious as this beautiful blonde boy who would follow him into Hell itself if he was asked?
His stomach sank violently. The space, the space. The space you take, little monster – 
Shayne steeled himself against that voice. The tickle at the back of his neck was just the wind. It had to be. He needed it to be. The very nature of the hexagon was that it was just him, and Charlie, and CT. Maybe. 
She didn’t get to be here now. 
“Shayne,” Charlie whispered. The word sounded as though it were being passed through time itself. It carried nothing but the plain fact that it existed. 
“Yeah?” 
“Nothing. It's stupid.”
“What?”
“I just wanted to hear your voice. Make sure you're...” Charlie gulped audibly, his entire body flinching from the effort. “Really here with me.”
It felt as though Shayne's stomach might fall forever and never stop.
“You know I'm here with you, right?” Charlie whimpered.
“I-I know. A-and I'm... I'm here.” Shayne fumbled his hand out of Charlie's hair to brush a thumb against Charlie’s cheek, accidentally catching the lobe of his ear first. And because it had been nice, hearing Charlie say his name, he swallowed even more of his fear and whispered, “I'm here with Charles Benjamin Waters.” 
Eyes shut, arm tucked under his head, Charlie smiled again, but these weren't true smiles. They were consolation smiles.
Shayne’s lips parted, then shut again. Nothing he could say would make the moment any easier. He tore his eyes away and absently rubbed circles into Charlie’s scalp until he knew that Charlie had fallen asleep.
The certainty that he was alone set off a cold, writhing spasm in the pit of Shayne’s stomach. His breath quivered as he looked down, tempted to wake Charlie back up, but that... that would be selfish, and – 
The space. 
With a jolt, he realised he was about to dig his fingernails into Charlie’s scalp. He slid his hands across himself, holding his sides. No. He couldn’t let himself wake Charlie. There was no point in both of them being awake and afraid.  
Besides, if Charlie was able to sleep, he should sleep. Neither of them had really slept.
Charlie let out a gentle, questioning noise. With trembling hands, Shayne stroked his hair again. He found CT's horn a little longer, a little less knotted. It seemed like too much to hope for, but maybe sleep had brought some kind of relief to them both.
And you thought about waking him, Shayne thought to himself with a twinge of guilt. It wasn't the last sound Charlie made in his sleep, and every time, Shayne rested a hand on his head until he settled again.
56 Hours
He didn't realise he'd stayed up all night until liquid lavender started creeping into the sky, drinking up the dark and swallowing the stars. Not that it mattered in the hexagon, where everything was dipped in sickly pinkish purple.
This was Elliott’s favourite time of day, that hazy limbo just before dawn, and the thought hit Shayne like a fist to the centre of his chest. Thanks to countless hours of combat training with Elliott, Shayne knew exactly how such a blow felt, but that wasn’t what came to mind now. It was the way Elliott’s eyes could hold onto a scowl even as his mouth grinned. It was the rumble of his laugh.  
He had to pull his hand away from Charlie’s hair, clamping both palms over his mouth to keep the clawing pain in his lungs from bubbling up into a cry. Shayne couldn't convince himself that Elliott knew, truly knew, how deeply Shayne had forgiven him. Or how much he appreciated having Elliott and Felix in his life. 
He braced himself to swallow another sob, but something else stilled it in his chest. 
A movement. Different from the others. 
Shayne lowered his hands from his mouth. The shock took the tremble out of his fingers.  
“What the fuck?” he whispered. 
The ground was drenched in dew as he pushed himself to his feet. Pine needles stuck to his hands, irritating the damaged skin on his right palm, and he didn’t even think to brush them off. He staggered up close to the north-eastern-facing wall of the hexagon.  
The rising sun had put a couple of inches between itself and the slanted horizon. Golden sunrays scattered between the tree trunks. 
And highlighted a figure standing amongst them. 
Shayne’s knees buckled slightly. Only a shred of self-preservation stopped him from pressing his hands up to the ward. 
The figure wore a dark garment that fell all the way to the forest floor, but beneath it was the shape of a person, far more clear-cut than the average demon could have conjured up from their remnants. They raised a cloaked arm and unfurled their hand. 
Shayne turned away to shield his eyes from the glare released into the morning haze. The effect was like dizzying spots in his vision, only the spots were bright purple, just like the wards.
But when he looked out again, the shadows of the trees were all that lay ahead of him, and for once in his life, Shayne’s eyes actually struggled to adjust to the gloom. He hadn’t really considered how the wards’ glow might mess up his senses, not until the walls had dissolved, leaving behind a sickly off-yellow hue that stained everything in their absence. 
The hexagon had vanished, and for a moment, he thought the figure had, too. Maybe this had all just been a weird head rush, his mind finally breaking from the stress, the hunger.  
When Shayne took a step forward, hands outstretched, there were no wards to stop him, no new burns on his palms. Nausea squeezed at his stomach as he tried to make sense of it all, to force this new information into a brain that had pretty much accepted its fate and didn't know what to do with anything else.
Downhill, a cloak billowed and disappeared through the trees. The figure picked up speed, their footfalls heavy and solid on the ground.
“Hey,” Shayne gasped.
And he suddenly knew exactly what to do.
He gave chase.
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femmmie · 2 months ago
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Trevor has to put him down again. Even though he does it very gently.
"Th- argh, thank you so much, Trev, you're a real one."
"Anything for you, Spencer."
Spencer blushes behind his glasses, averting his eyes. The cowboy accent is getting to him. 
Running up that hill: whumptober AND flufftober day 3
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heliophxle · 12 days ago
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ermmm reintroduction to smoshblr cus uhhh i kinda fucked off lolll
im carter, im australian, and i write smosh fanfic. requests for duos/prompts/other shit are always open cus i have so many ideas and need vessels LMAO
known in certain areas as "the Trevor whump author" so do with that what you will.
my only claim to fame is i wrote the very first fic for Sword AF, so yeah.
this is my latest work, its a LOTF spommy au if u wanna check it out, will probably post infrequently on here or tons at once.
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lewmagoo · 2 years ago
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dona nobis pacem | rhett abbott
latin: [ˈdona ˈnobis ˈpatʃem], "grant us peace."
description: in which one man's determination to protect his family nearly costs him everything
warnings: 18+ only, angst with a happy ending, whump, plot divergence (i mean, OR has no cohesive plot so does it matter?) mentions of death and murder, violence, blood, brief and nondescript mention of childbirth/fertility issues, physical altercations, stab wound, mentions of hospitals/surgery, rhett's daughter witnesses him getting hurt (necessary warning), talk of trauma, please let me know if i missed anything
characters: rhett abbott x wife reader, together you have a daughter named belle
notes: this story is quite long, and pretty intense, so read at your own discretion. if you are unfamiliar with the storyline of outer range, this might be a little confusing to you, idk. also, i encourage you to listen to dona nobis pacem 1 by max richter while reading this.
Rhett Abbott was a fool to think he could keep his family safe. 
He never wanted any of it to touch you. The mess his brother had caused was not meant to sully you. It was all he was certain of, in a moment otherwise full of fear and uncertainty. Whatever happened, this couldn’t touch you. You couldn’t know. 
But how could he ever think he was capable of protecting you? How could he ever think his wife, and his precious baby girl, would not be dragged into this turmoil?
Those were his thoughts, grim as they were, as he lay bleeding out against the front seat of his truck as you begged him not to leave you, pleading with him to hold on just a little longer. 
But as his consciousness faded, much like the quickly setting sun, he knew this was it. Nothing would be the same ever again. Life as you knew it was seconds from spiraling out of control, torn asunder all because of the foolish actions of one man. 
It was never supposed to end like this. But as his eyes drifted shut of their own accord, he was powerless to stop it. Rhett had fought so hard not to lose his family, but he’d neglected to take into account that his family was going to lose him. 
He should’ve known it was all going to fall apart the night he came home, Perry in tow, clothing stained with another man’s blood. They were quiet as they crept into the house, but not quiet enough, because you were pulled out of your fitful slumber by the headlights of a truck shining through the window, and the whir of an engine. 
You knew it was your husband. Rhett had gone out that night with Perry. He usually didn’t, preferring to spend the evening with you and your five-year-old daughter, Belle. But he’d been struggling as of late. His bad shoulder was bothering him. The one he’d injured countless times throughout the course of his rodeo career. And though he didn’t verbally express it, you knew the pain was nearly unbearable for him. He favored the shoulder often, and sometimes struggled to lift things. But he was too stubborn to ask for help, so he suffered in silence. 
When his pain grew to overwhelming magnitudes, he would pop some painkillers and nurse a beer or two, just to take the edge off. That was why you weren’t surprised that he’d gone out with Perry to their favorite bar.
He had slipped into your bedroom just as you were putting Belle to bed, kissing you both on the head and informing you that he’d be home later. 
“Be careful,” you told him. 
“I will. Luh’ you.”
Now he was standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands trembling with an anxiety he’d never known. He should have heeded your warning. Be careful. But it had all happened so fast. One moment he’d gone to bring the truck around, and the next, he was watching his brother standing over the lifeless body of Trevor Tillerson. 
Panic had seized him. What were they going to do? This was murder they were dealing with. Not some petty crime. Perry had finally let that blinding, unhinged temper possess him like a horrifying demon, and he’d killed someone. Snuffed out a life just like that. 
Rhett’s first reaction was to help his brother, as he always did. He couldn’t just leave him to deal with it by himself. But the moment he asked, “what do you want to do?” He should have known that it was going to change everything. There was no coming back from this. 
Foolishly, he thought it noble to protect his brother. But why on earth should he expect that same protection in return? Perry was so muddled in his own mind that he was going to drag everyone down with him. Even if it resulted in a young father being taken away from his family. 
Rhett considered this as he drove home with a body in the back of his truck, blood soaking the bed. His chest was tight, and his mind was spiraling. He had a wife and a child at home, for God’s sake. How could he be so foolish as to aid and abet his brother? 
And more importantly, how could he protect you from all of it? 
But he knew it was futile when saw you as he pulled the truck onto the Abbott property. You were at your bedroom window, peering out because the truck pulling in had awakened you. 
His stomach sank with dread as he pulled the Sierra into the barn. He knew it was only a matter of minutes before you came down to see what was going on. And how could he keep this a secret? You would find out, because he could never keep things from you. He told you everything, and couldn’t even attempt to lie to you, because you always knew when he was. And he had pledged to you on your wedding day that he would always be truthful to you. 
Even if that honesty threatened the very foundation of your lives. 
It took everything in him not to double over and retch once he jumped out of the truck. He focused on taking deep breaths as he walked around to the truck bed, terrified to look at the body of Trevor Tillerson, because that would make it all too real. 
“What are we gon’ do, man?” He asked his brother. “You got us into this mess. What the fuck are we supposed to do now?”
Perry’s eyes, soft and dark like a goddamned calf’s, blinked slowly at Rhett. The younger Abbott grunted in frustration and stepped forward to say something else to get a response out of Perry, but he stopped. 
The sound of footsteps made them both freeze. They shared a look of pure terror. Moments later, their father appeared in the doorway, idling there for a moment as he eyed his sons. Both boys held their breath as he approached, wondering what he’d say, what he’d do. 
His boots crunched against hay and rubble. One step. Two step. Three step. Then he reached the truck, and his face remained stoic as he took in the sight before him. 
Royal looked at the body, and then back up at his boys. His jaw tightened. His eyes were bleak. Then he took a deep breath, seemingly about to speak, when suddenly, a voice Rhett knew all too well called out into the cool night air. 
“What’s going on?”
Your husband’s eyes darted to you, standing in the doorway of the barn, and he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. But it was the raw terror in those sky blues of his that made your heart drop to your stomach. 
He stepped toward you, holding out his arm. “Baby, don’t—” 
But you were already rushing forward, wanting an answer to your question. Rhett caught you before you could look into the truck, his hands firmly holding your shoulders. “Stop,” he said, voice low, desperate. 
“Rhett, what—”
“Don’t want you seein’ it. It’s not for your eyes.” He was adamant. He didn’t want you to have to live with the sight of death. 
You grabbed his forearms, holding on tight. “Tell me what happened.” 
His chest heaved. He opened his mouth to speak, but Royal placed a hand on his shoulder. “In the house.”
Rhett simply clamped his mouth shut and nodded. His hand found your own, and he squeezed tight, though there was a tremor in his grip. The sickening buzz of anxiety hummed in your chest as you followed Royal back to the house, your hand still clasped in your husband’s. 
Someone was dead. You just knew it, that was the only thing you could think of that would result in this much upheaval. And the more you considered it, the more dread welled up within you. 
You had so many questions. Your mind was reeling. What did this mean for your family? Whatever was about to happen would change the trajectory of life as you knew it. And the entire walk to the house, all you could think of was your daughter, and how this would affect her. 
When you all made it to the house, you ended up in the kitchen. Rhett leaned back against the counter, eyes ahead, darkened with fear and anxiety. You stood beside him, body leaning into his. His breathing was rushed. In all the time you’d known him, you’d never seen him like this. He was always so steady, your anchor in a time of storm. 
Now he was the one in the midst of a storm. 
“Trevor Tillerson’s dead.” It was Perry who revealed the truth. “He…he made a comment about Rebecca, and I-I-I lost control. Next thing I knew he was on the ground, not breathin’.” 
You stared at him. Long and hard. Royal said something, but you couldn’t hear it over the rush of blood in your ears. This was all Perry’s fault? And he’d pulled your husband down into the miry clay alongside him? 
“Do you just have no thought for how your actions affect others?” You spoke up, tone dripping with venom. Heat was blossoming in your chest. The early signs of a rage that would not easily be contained. 
“It happened so fast,” he weakly defended. 
“I don’t care! You didn’t once stop to consider your daughter?! Or your brother? Or his child?!” Your voice was growing louder. 
“Alright, enough,” Royal interjected, holding a hand out toward you. “We’re not wakin’ the whole house over this.” He snatched the phone off the wall, seemingly ready to call the sheriff. 
Rhett sucked in a sharp breath as he watched his father pace. He was waiting for his signal, waiting to follow his lead. He had to know what to do. Right? 
“His brothers know?” Royal asked, voice tight. 
“No. They were trashed,” Rhett answered. “W-we thought, if we brought him back to his place, he’d have a better chance of—”
“Then why is he here, goddammit?!��� His father hissed, jaw clenching. 
You waited with bated breath. There was no quick and easy way out of this situation. Your husband was likely going to jail, unless Royal pulled a magic solution out of his ass in the next few minutes. 
Then, suddenly, “alright, let’s fix this.” He slammed the phone back down onto the cradle, stepping over to Perry and tugging him out of his seat. 
Beside you, Rhett tensed.
“You’re not calling the sheriff?” Perry asked in disbelief. “Look, I fucked up, okay? Don’t make this your problem.”
“We dial that phone, both of you go to jail. Not just you! You get that, right?”
Your stomach turned at your father-in-law's words. He was right. Perry was going to drag himself and his brother down into a pit in which they would never be able to claw their way back up from. The thought filled you with a rage you couldn’t begin to describe. How could he have been so foolish? 
You didn’t even realize you were stepping toward him until Rhett gently caught your arm. He knew what you were about to do before you did. “Don’t.” Pleading. Serious. Your eyes locked with his, and you nodded, reeling yourself back in. 
Deep breaths. In and out. 
Your vision cleared as Royal moved on, instructing both boys to remove their bloodied shirts. “Me and your brother are gonna figure this out,” he said. “Go upstairs and to Amy.” Then he pointed at you. “You go back up to Belle.”
And then he was pulling Rhett after him, and you were stricken with an ice cold shock of fear, instinctually reaching out to grab your husband’s arm. 
He stopped, glancing back at you with an anguish you could not bear to look at. “We’ll figure it out. Go be with Belle.” He pressed his forehead to yours, only to pull away seconds later when Royal sharply whispered his name. 
You watched him grab a hoodie off the peg by the door, and then he stumbled out into the night, and your chest ached with an agony you had never felt before.
What did this mean for your family? Rhett was an accessory to murder. There was no way he would get off scot-free from this. This was going to turn your lives upside down. But above all, it was going to turn your young daughter’s life upside down. 
Perry’s footsteps were what tore your gaze away from Rhett’s retreating form. Your brother-in-law made his way toward the steps, but you caught his arm as he passed you. 
He wouldn’t make eye contact with you, and it sent scorching fire through you. “Look at me,” you hissed through gritted teeth. Your grip tightened on his bicep as his guilt-ridden eyes met yours. “Don’t you dare let my husband take the fall for this, Perry.”
“I-I won’t,” he responded. 
“Swear to me.”
“I swear.”
But whether or not he would make good on that promise remained to be seen. Letting out a breath, you released his arm, and let him ascend the creaky steps to the second floor. 
You closed your eyes, still reeling from what had taken place. How were you just expected to go back upstairs to your daughter when her father was in the process of disposing of a body? 
The thought sent a wave of nausea through you, and you shuddered, pushing the feeling aside. It was best that you went back upstairs before Belle woke up and realized you were gone. So up you went, slipping back into your bedroom, where your daughter still slept soundly. If only you could remain as undisturbed and peaceful as her. Something told you that there would be many sleepless nights ahead for you now. 
Out in the dark of the Wyoming night, Rhett dutifully followed his father, his mind racing as he pulled his hoodie over his naked torso. He had no idea what Royal had planned. He wasn’t even sure if it was a good idea to follow that plan.
“Look, there ain’t a clean way around this,” the Abbott patriarch explained, his walk determined. “Your brother’s been through enough. There’s not a chance in hell I’m lettin’ Amy lose her dad, too. You agree?”
But Rhett recoiled like he’d been slapped. “But what’s that mean for me? For my family? I’m just supposed to take the fall for his fuck-up, and my wife and daughter lose me?”
Royal stopped abruptly, gaze hard as he stepped into his son’s space. “Nobody’s losing anybody, alright?” He gritted, chest heaving. 
“So what are we gon’ do?” Rhett asked, voice wavering. His limbs burned from the anxiety coursing through him. Was he going to lose everything, because of one foolish decision? 
“C’mon,” Royal simply said. 
Inside the house, you’d just slipped into bed, when you saw another set of headlights shine through your window for a second time that night. 
Panic seized you, and you sat up, swinging your legs over the bed and padding over to the window. Your heart sank like a stone in your chest, the weight of dread pulling it down. 
It was the Tillersons. Luke and Billy jumped out of the truck, and you stumbled back from the window so they wouldn’t see you. Wordlessly, you hurried across the bedroom, but you didn’t even make it into the hall before the loud, incessant pounding of a fist on the front door made you freeze in your tracks. 
The pounding grew louder, and behind you, you heard a soft whimper come from your daughter, who’d been asleep in her bed, but was now awakened by the noise. 
“Mama?” She called out. 
Cursing under your breath, you turned on your heel, creeping back into the room. “It’s okay. Try to go back to sleep, okay? It’s just someone here to talk to Uncle Perry.” You soothed her by running your hand over the top of her head. The pounding made you both jump again. Her fearful eyes met yours in the dark. “I want you to stay here. Don’t come out of this bedroom until either me or Daddy comes in. Understand?”
“Okay,” she whispered. 
You kissed her forehead and then you slipped away, closing the door behind you. When you made it to the steps, you caught sight of Perry creeping toward the door. 
His hesitation filled you with an anger you could barely contain. You were quick to scramble down the steps, light on your feet. “Answer it, or I will,” you spoke out. 
“What the hell do I say to ‘em?” He hissed, eyes slightly wild. 
You threw your hands up. “I don’t know! This is your mess! Get yourself out of it!”
As he moved to answer the door, you slipped into the kitchen, gazing out into the night, your heart thudding erratically against your chest. You searched for any sign of Rhett, hoping he was out of sight. There was no telling what would happen if the Tillersons got ahold of him. 
But then your ears tuned into what Perry was saying to Luke and Billy, and your eyes moved from the window to the door. You couldn’t see the boys, but you could see your brother-in-law, leaning against the door. His hand was against the opposite wall, fingers flipping the light switch that controlled the barn lights. S.O.S. 
“Where’s Rhett?” 
Your chest tightened at the mention of your husband’s name. You waited for Perry’s reply, and for a terrifying second, you were certain he was going to throw his brother to the wolves. And essentially, he did. 
“I don’t know.”
Your eyes went wide, and you almost lurched forward to intervene, but you thought better of it. It might cause the situation to escalate. But if Perry didn’t protect his brother like he was supposed to, you were going to have no choice but to step in. 
But then you saw a shadow out of the corner of your eye. And when you looked back out the window, you spotted Rhett, creeping low in the darkness, quick on his feet as he made a beeline for the back door, out of sight of the Tillerson boys. 
Acting instantaneously, you quietly rushed to the door, reaching it just as Rhett crept onto the porch. He caught your eye through the screen, and you held your hand up, signaling him to wait. The door had loud, squeaky hinges that would surely alert the men that someone was coming into the house. 
So Rhett waited. Both of you did, unmoving, as you listened to the exchange. Then, suddenly, they were storming off the porch, and Perry was running after them, lying right through his teeth as he tried desperately to keep them away from the barn. 
You took that as the opportunity to pull Rhett into the house, right into the shadows. His breathing was rushed, his chest heaving. When you took his hands in your own, they were trembling. 
“Shh,” you soothed, leaning into him, crowding his space. He needed to calm down before you even attempted to ask him any questions. 
His eyes drifted shut, and he focused on the feeling of your body pressed into his, grounding him. When he opened his eyes again, he found you still looking at him. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “We shouldn’t have brought this mess home. I…I didn’t know what else to do. Perry wouldn’t fuckin’ tell me anything. Just sat there staring straight ahead. So I panicked.”
“No, you shouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place. But what’s done is done. What is your dad going to do?”
“He said he’d take care of the body. I don’t know what he meant by it. He took off with his horse toward the west pasture. Told me to go back inside.”
“So Luke and Billy won’t find anything?”
“I don’t think so, no.”
“Not unless your brother fucks up and opens his mouth when he shouldn’t,” you hissed through your teeth, shaking your head. “How could he do this to us? To you? Doesn’t he realize what’s at stake?” 
“He wasn’t thinking,” Rhett tried to reason. But even he knew it was futile. 
“He’s never thinking!” Came your bitter, whispered exclamation. “He’s out of control. And I’m not going to let his stupidity tear my family apart.”
Your husband locked eyes with you, and even in the darkness, you could see how deeply this had shaken him. But there was also a burning determination in that cool blue. “I’m not going to let anythin’ happen to us, you hear me? No matter how bad this gets, none of it will touch Belle. I’ll protect that baby with everything in me.”
You knew he would. He was fiercely protective of his child. Not only for the fact that she was his flesh and blood, but also for all you’d gone through to have her in your lives. Her birth had not been an easy one, and you’d nearly lost her as a newborn. Five years later, she was healthy and happy as could be. But she was also your only child, because that was all your body could take. And you’d be damned if you let her be sullied by the mess her uncle had just plunged all of you into. 
If Rhett swore to keep that child safe, he would make good on that oath. Even if it cost him his life in the process. 
“I know you will, Rhett. I know,” you assured him. 
He sighed, pulling you close, his large hands cupping your face. “I’m so fuckin’ terrified, baby.”
“Me too,” came your trembling reply. It felt as if you’d just been thrust into the frontlines of battle, completely exposed with no weapon or armor to protect yourself. 
“I’m gon’ follow my dad’s lead on this,” he informed you, “if we do what he says then maybe we’ll be okay.”
You lifted your hands, placing them against his chest, above his racing heart. “If that’s what you think is best, then I’ll stand by you. But I’m telling you right now, if your brother so much as thinks about letting you take the fall for this, so help me God I will fight tooth and nail to take him down.” 
Rhett simply nodded, because he knew you meant what you said. He knew that you only remained civil with his brother so as not to cause a rift in his family. Sometimes it was better to remain silent, even if it pained you to do so. You had no desire to cause strife, because you knew it would negatively affect your daughter. And part of you feared that if you pushed Perry enough, he might snap altogether and forbid Amy from playing with her cousin. You couldn’t do that to your precious girls. They were inseparable, and forcing them apart because you couldn’t remain civil with your brother-in-law was the last thing you wanted to do. 
So you held your tongue. But over the last six years of your marriage, you had watched this family wear your husband down. You knew that it was only a matter of time before you decided that enough was enough. In fact, you already would’ve uprooted your family and moved elsewhere, had it not been for your financial situation. 
You were doing what you could to put money into savings, but it had not been easy. You’d had your eye on a quaint little house not far from the Abbott property, but someone had outbid you, and ever since then, you had been unsuccessful in finding another place you could afford. So, in your in-law’s house, you lived, in Rhett’s old bedroom. 
Your daughter slept in a little bed in the corner of your room. The situation was less than ideal, but it was all you had. Now, however, you thought living in a cardboard box might have been a better option than staying under this roof, where your entire family had just been put in danger. 
Now here you were, shaking with fear and rage in your husband’s arms, wondering how you were going to get through this. Nothing would ever be okay again, you sensed. 
Your private moment in the darkness of the kitchen was interrupted when Perry came back inside. Rhett kept you from blowing up at him with a gentle hand pressed against the back of your neck. A wordless plea to wait. 
But it was only a matter of time before you let that rage bubble to the surface. 
Until then, there were bigger fish to fry. Like the fact that Cecelia had just come downstairs to see what the commotion was. Her boys shared a look, and she let out a huff when they didn’t immediately respond, a hand on her hip. 
“Well? Out with it! What kinda trouble did’ya get yourselves into?”
And that’s how you all found yourselves seated around the kitchen table as rain poured from the sky in buckets outside. Royal had not yet returned from his supposed disposal of Trevor’s body. The wee morning hours had given in to a gray dawn, one that appeared as bleak as the situation you were currently in. 
Cecelia had put a pot of coffee on to brew. Rhett had poured you a cup, made just the way you liked it. You couldn’t stomach a single drink of it, however. You were too anxious to do much of anything. 
The minutes ticked by. You looked at the clock on the wall and you finally decided that if your father-in-law didn’t return within the next ten minutes, you were excusing yourself from the table and going upstairs to get your daughter ready for school, because someone at least had to keep a sense of normalcy in the household. 
But suddenly, the back door flew open, and in walked Royal. Disheveled. Bloody. His shirt mysteriously missing. All four of you stared at him as he stood there in the middle of the entryway. Just when you thought he wasn’t going to say anything, he finally moved forward. 
“Gonna put on a shirt.” And then he was gone. 
You glanced at Rhett. He truly thought it was a good idea to trust his father? You weren’t sure if it was a good idea, only because Royal had been a little…disheveled, as of late. Would he be able to hold it together long enough to see his sons safely through this?
When he returned to the table, wearing clean, dry clothes, you all looked to him in silence, desperate for guidance. Rhett grabbed your hand under the table and squeezed. You squeezed right back. 
The silence drew out for a long time. Too long. Then, Cecelia spoke. 
“What happened to your leg?” She asked, acknowledging the blood, and the limp Royal had sported when walking into the house. 
“Don’t worry about that,” he answered. 
“You’re bleeding,” Rhett added, leaning forward in his seat. 
“I’m fine,” his father insisted. 
“Alright then. Where’s the body?” Perry asked. 
Your gaze snapped to him. Before you could even say a word, Rhett was speaking. “Don’t tell me that. I don’t wanna know that. If this all goes to shit, it’s on me too, pal,” he muttered. 
You tensed beside him. 
“If it does come to that, I’m taking all the blame,” Perry responded. How noble of him. 
“Perry, stop,” Cece firmly interjected, her gaze hard. “We’re all in this.”
“We wouldn’t be if it weren’t for him,” you snapped, tired of remaining silent beside your husband. 
“Can’t change what’s already been done,” your mother-in-law said. “You and I both know that.” Then she looked at her husband. “Royal, look. You tell us everything you think we need to know.”
That prompted a heated discussion in which everyone tried to speak over one another. Demanding answers. Trying to get something out of Royal, who refused to share any more details than necessary. 
It was Rhett who was finally the voice of reason. “If you’re askin’ us to go all in on this, then we gotta be on the same page. I have a family to think about, Dad. I need to know I can keep them safe from all this.”
Royal opened his mouth to reply, but all of the sudden, Amy’s voice startled all of you as she strolled into the kitchen in search of breakfast. “What are you guys talking about?”
You looked at Rhett, and he at you. 
“Amy, can you give us a minute?” Perry asked, voice wavering. 
“I have to eat breakfast before I go to school,” she answered matter-of-factly. 
Her statement prompted you to glance at the clock again, and you abruptly stood from your chair. Your brother-in-law looked at you, brow furrowed. 
“Where are you goin’?” Came his demand.
“To get my child ready for school,” you simply replied, tone sharp as you rose to your feet. 
And just like that, the tense family meeting was adjourned. You walked out of that kitchen, and as the silence met your ears, you found yourself stopping in your tracks at the foot of the steps, anxiety tightening in your chest like a boa constrictor. 
You clamped your hand over your mouth and squeezed your eyes shut, suddenly so overwhelmed you couldn’t take another step. 
How on earth were you going to get through this? You didn’t see how there could possibly be any light at the end of the tunnel. 
But life had to go on. You had a child to care for. So you threw yourself into being her mother, because it was the only thing that kept you from falling apart completely. 
You forced yourself to trudge up the stairs and to your bedroom, where you found Belle already awake, getting into her school clothes. 
“G’morning, baby girl,” you greeted her. “Sorry I wasn’t in here to wake you up.”
She beamed sleepily at you. “It’s okay, Mama. I got up all by myself without you waking me up!” She was very proud of her accomplishment. 
You stepped forward and reached out to cup her little cheek before you leaned down to kiss her head. “Getting to be such a big girl. You finish getting ready. I’ll get your breakfast. Would you like Cheerios?”
She nodded vigorously. “With bananas?” Came her hopeful question.
“Of course. I’ll go get it ready.” As you turned to leave, you took pause to offer her one more instruction. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth. I’ll fix your hair when you come downstairs.”
“Okay Mama,” she happily replied. 
Your heart warmed at her sweetness. That was your girl. She was as easygoing as the day was long. After your initial scare of almost losing her when she was born, you found that she was an incredibly easy baby. She didn’t cry very often. She was always happy. She usually slept through the night. You remembered thinking something had to give. That there was no way a baby could be this low maintenance. 
But she was. And as she grew, her pleasant disposition grew with her. She was so eager to please, and her joy was contagious. That wasn’t to say she was perfect, because she wasn’t, but it was to say that you or your husband couldn’t quite take credit for how good she was. It was simply how she was born. 
She was your pride and joy. And as you walked away from the bedroom, leaving her to get dressed, an intense ache blossomed in your chest. Would the peaceful childhood she’d always known be ripped away from her? 
The thought weighed heavily on your mind as you descended the squeaky old steps, your body on autopilot as you headed back to the kitchen. 
You looked up to find your husband leaning against the counter, his back toward you as he gazed out into the stormy morning. The kitchen was quiet now. Everyone had gone their separate ways, leaving you and Rhett the only souls in the room. 
“Belle awake?” He asked, having heard your footfalls. 
“Yeah,” you replied, already moving to grab the box of generic oat cereal from the cabinet. 
“She know anything about last night?” 
“She woke up when the Tillersons tried to bust the damn door down. But I think she went right back to sleep after that.”
“Good,” he mused with a nod. He turned to watch as you prepared your daughter’s breakfast. A sad, wistful look clouded his eyes. The bitter taste of regret filled his mouth. If only he hadn’t decided to go out with his brother. If only he wasn’t such a coward, turning to alcohol to numb the physical pain he was in. If only he’d decided to just grit his teeth and bear it, and slip into bed beside you the night before, where he belonged. 
But it was too late to go back now. His bed had been made, but not of his own design. Perry had turned down the covers and dragged him under. Now Rhett had no choice but to reap the consequences of another man’s foolish decision. 
His reverie was interrupted by the sound of little feet running down the stairs. He lifted his head just in time to see Belle scurrying into the kitchen, smiling widely up at her father.
“Morning, Daddy!” She exclaimed, rushing toward him. 
Rhett knelt low, opening his arms and allowing her to throw herself into them. “Mornin’, little chick.” He held her tightly to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut and relishing in the precious moment. 
“You’re gonna squish me!” She squealed, giggling wildly. 
He hummed, releasing her from his hold. “Sorry, I just missed ya after you were asleep all night.”
She smiled, lifting her little hands to hold his scruffy cheeks. “I miss you too when I go to sleep.” 
“Alright, c’mon, baby girl. Let’s get some breakfast in you before we end up being late to school.” You got her settled with her bowl of cereal and banana, and as she ate, Rhett sat at the table with her to keep her company. 
You could see the pain in his eyes. He was cherishing every last normal moment he could with her, should everything come crashing down. 
But all too soon, the quiet morning had to come to an end. Rhett glanced at the clock and sighed lowly. “Alright, little chick. It's time we mosey on outta here and get you to school.”
While Belle ran to grab her backpack and coat, Rhett was quick to retrieve his hat off the peg on the wall. He caught you watching him, and he stepped toward you, leaning down to kiss you deeply. 
When you parted, he spoke. “Anyone knocks on the door while I’m gone, don’t answer it.” He kept his voice low so only you could hear. 
“Okay,” you replied, intending to follow his instructions. You were going to be alone in the house for a little while that morning. The thought of having to deal with the Tillersons all by yourself, or worse, the sheriff, was enough to have you wishing you could burrow under your covers and hide forever. 
But that seemed to be what Rhett had in mind. “I know you probably won’t be able to sleep, but try to get some rest. I know ya need it after being kept up all night.” 
You tried. You really did. After Rhett left to take Belle to school, you climbed back into bed and hid yourself from the harsh world outside of the four walls that surrounded you. 
But sleep would not come. Anxiety crept in, and you felt like you were suspended in a pit, invisible fingers clawing at you, ripping your clothing to shreds, pulling at your hair, slicing into your flesh. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, paralyzing. 
It forced you to jump out of bed and busy yourself elsewhere. If only you’d been scheduled at work that day. It might’ve proved to be a better distraction than sitting in an empty house, staring at the clock, waiting for the minutes to tick by until your husband returned. 
It was agonizing. And it went on like that for the next few days. But Royal had instructed everyone to continue on like things were business as usual. You tried your best, but it all weighed heavily on you. The only thing keeping you together was that precious little girl of yours. 
You were adamant about keeping up your normal routine for her. Wake up for school. Breakfast. Out the door, seated in the truck, right between her mama and daddy as he drove you to work and her to school. 
But it wasn’t long before the walls started closing in. Everything came to a screeching, grinding halt when Amy was out hiking on the property and proceeded to stumble upon Trevor Tillerson’s body.
You weren’t home when it happened. It was Saturday, which was the day you always went into town with Rhett and Belle to get breakfast at the quaint little Wabang Diner. Neither of you were in the mood to be upbeat and pretend like everything was fine, but you forced a smile onto your faces and treated it like any ther Saturday so Belle wouldn’t suspect anything. 
Halfway through your breakfast, Rhett’s phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He paused, not one to check his phone during a meal, but pulled it out anyway, just to see who it was. His brows pinched together, and he caught your questioning gaze.
“Perry,” was all he said. 
The bell above the diner door jangled. Your attention shifted to the front of the diner, and your blood ran cold. Rhett saw the look that passed over your face, and he discreetly turned, following your line of sight until he, too, saw who you were looking at.
Deputy Matt was making a beeline toward your table. Your heart quickened in your chest, and you fought to keep your expression neutral. Belle had suddenly started patting your arm, trying to get you to look at the picture she’d drawn with crayon on the paper placemat in front of her. You hardly acknowledged her, too fearful of what was about to happen. 
Matt’s shadow darkened the table, and you and Rhett both looked up at him. Rhett immediately stood up, his back turned to you, in an attempt to keep the attention on him and not you or Belle. 
“Mornin’, Rhett,” Matt greeted, then nodded at you and your daughter. “Mrs. Abbott. Belle.”
“What can I do for ya?” Rhett asked. His shoulders had gone tense. 
“I have a few questions regardin’ Trevor Tillerson, if ya don’t mind.”
Rhett nodded once, and attempted to lead Matt further from the table. Beside you, Belle had forgotten all about her picture. “Why is Deputy Matt talking to Daddy, Mama?” She asked.
“I…I don’t know, baby. Stay right here, okay?” You made sure Belle stayed put before you stood, stepping toward your husband. 
“Where did you go after the fight with Trevor?” Matt was in the process of asking.
Your breath caught in your throat. They knew something. New evidence had come into play. That had to be what it was. Rhett’s phone vibrated in his pocket, and he reached for it, realizing what was happening. You were at his side then, eyeing Matt.
“Rhett, don’t answer that phone,” the deputy warned, holding out a hand. 
People around you had started to quiet down, intrigued by the situation, and you felt all eyes on you as you stood in the middle of that diner. Rhett was frozen, opening and closing his mouth, his mind at a loss for an answer. You had to step in, and fast.
“He was with me,” you spoke up.
Matt glanced at you, confusion creasing his brow. “Amy said he wasn’t home that night.”
She had? Fuck. Either way, you stuck to your guns. “That’s because the two of us snuck off.” 
“...to do what?” 
You raised a brow. “Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?”
Matt narrowed his eyes. “Yes, I do, because it’s pertinent to this case.”
“We were fucking in the barn, Matt. That what you wanted to hear?”
Rhett’s eyes went wide, and you saw his head snap toward you out of the corner of your eye. Matt sputtered, looking to your husband. “Okay, um, is that true then, Rhett?”
Rhett ran his tongue over his teeth, nodding his head. “Yeah. It’s true.”
The deputy let out a sigh. “Alright then. That’s all I needed.”
And then he was gone, leaving you to hurriedly pull Rhett back to your table so everyone would stop staring. You’d surely be the gossip of the entire town, but your family was already under scrutiny as it was, so it really didn’t matter.
“You couldn’t have come up with something a little more creative?” Rhett whispered in your ear.
“I panicked,” you hissed back. “Besides, you weren’t doing anything to help yourself.”
To your relief, it seemed that Belle hadn’t heard any of what you had said. But you were still jarred from the encounter. It made you realize just how serious this situation really was. Your husband was now a prime suspect in a murder he didn’t even commit. And in your heart, you knew that if it came down to it, you would reveal your brother-in-law’s guilt to protect Rhett. You weren’t letting him go down for this.
But that encounter in the diner was just the tip of the iceberg. After that, everything began to spiral out of control. The pressure was building, building, and building, like a whistling teakettle that was about to blow its top and send scalding water everywhere.
Everyone began pointing fingers at your family. Namely your husband. As everything came to a head, he was brought in for questioning. So were you. And so was Perry. You remained stoic as you answered Joy’s questions. You refused to give anything away that wasn’t your carefully rehearsed story, an alibi for Rhett.
Maybe it was foolish of you. Maybe it was the most idiotic thing you’d ever done. But the entire time, all that was going through your mind was your daughter. The child you’d carried in your womb for months. The child you had almost lost. And you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you had to protect her. 
They say a mother’s love knows no bounds. But they don’t always tell you the harrowing lengths that love will have you willing to go to. If it came down to it, you would sacrifice yourself just to see to it that she was protected, that she was safe, that this never touched her. You would rip your own heart out of your body for her. You would die for her.
Rhett was just as determined to protect her, to keep his family together. His story matched yours, and he maintained his innocence. But it was Perry who nearly fucked it all up. He couldn’t keep it together when faced with a barrage of questions from the sheriff. 
He cast the blame on Rhett. Said he wasn’t actually with you. That he didn’t know where his brother had gone the night Trevor was killed. He froze up, and in a moment of desperation, tried to make himself look like the innocent party. 
“Perry says Rhett wasn’t actually with you that night,” Joy informed you. “Do you know why he would say that?”
Your eyes snapped to hers. “I have no idea why he would say that. He’s lying.”
“Are you sure about that? There are a lot of things that don’t add up here, Mrs. Abbott.”
You held her gaze, your heart pounding within your chest, rage swelling in you. You couldn’t let this happen. Couldn’t let Rhett go down for his brother’s wrongdoing. It was on the tip of your tongue. The confession that would change everything. Perry did it. Perry killed Trevor and tried to blame Rhett.
But before the words could even leave your mouth, the front door of the station slammed open, and in walked Royal with the family lawyer in tow. And then it was over. You were free to go. 
Your body trembled as you walked out of that room. You refused to look at Perry as you did so, because you knew you would lunge for him. Rhett grabbed for you, his hand closing around your arm. He was shaking, too. 
But you said nothing to each other as you walked out into the night. Your breathing quickened. Your chest went tight. There it was again. That pressure. Building. And building. And building. 
And then, Perry said something. You didn’t hear what it was over the blood rushing in your ears, but it set you off nonetheless. Your head snapped up, and you let out a guttural wail, yanking out of your husband’s grasp. 
“How DARE you?!” You cried, and before anyone even realized what was happening, you’d slapped him right across the face. 
Rhett caught you, pulling you back against his chest. Royal stepped between you and Perry, hissing something about keeping it down, and not drawing attention. 
You didn’t care. You couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t lose your husband. You couldn’t let your daughter’s father be taken from her. 
“Stop,” Rhett pleaded as you fought against him. He’d pulled you off to the side. You were sobbing. Clawing at his shirt. Begging him to let you go. “Stop!” Finally, it was his gruff tone that silenced you. 
His hands were clutching your arms. His eyes, blue as the Wyoming sky, were pleading. “Not here! Not in front of the fuckin’ police station!” He hissed at you. 
You looked at him, finally, as your tunnel vision cleared. Then you blinked. Once. Twice. And suddenly, you were crumpling into a fit of sobs. “He can’t do that! He can’t betray you like this!”
Rhett was vibrating. He was as angry and hurt as you. It took everything in him to hold it together. He was reeling, unsure of why Perry would so easily let him take the fall for this. But this wasn’t the time or place to go off the rails. 
“I know, baby. I know. We’ll figure it out, alright? Just not here. Let’s go home. Let’s go home to our baby.”
The mention of your daughter brought you back to yourself. He was right. It was nearly her bedtime. She was with her grandmother, but she would be expecting you to tuck her into bed, not Grandma. 
“Okay,” you whispered, relenting. “Okay.”
You let him guide you toward the truck, and as he did, you didn’t miss the way your father-in-law was berating Perry for shifting the blame onto Rhett. “Don’t you dare let him take the fall for this,” he snapped. 
But he was already letting it happen. 
The next few days were difficult, to say the least. It felt like a spool of thread was being unraveled, faster and faster and faster. And there was nothing you could do to stop it. 
Rhett was a mess. He was trying his best to keep it together for you and Belle, but he was struggling. Cecelia was on the verge of falling apart. Royal seemed to be slipping. And Perry? It appeared that he was succumbing to whatever madness lurked in the corners of his mind. 
Your family was falling apart at the seams. And although you’d fought tooth and nail to keep Belle out of it, you knew she sensed something was terribly wrong. There was no way she couldn’t. 
It had begun to manifest in her as a form of separation anxiety. Now, whenever you or Rhett had to leave her, she would begin to cry, pleading to go with you. You weren’t quite sure exactly what had triggered this anxiety in her, but when you gently asked her why she was so afraid to be apart from her parents, she told you that she didn’t know. That she was just scared. That she felt like something bad was going to happen. 
You realized it was likely because she could sense the distress in all the adults around her. Her grandparents were distant. Her uncle was unstable. Her parents were scared. And to a little five-year-old girl, it all seemed so terrifying. 
She’d started having a difficult time in school. She couldn’t focus. She wouldn’t participate during recess, opting to sit beside her teacher the entire time, too unnerved to play with the other kids. Your usually bubbly child had been reduced to a timid, fearful mess. 
It made you want to kill Perry with your bare hands. It got to the point where you could not stand to be in the same room as him. So you avoided him as best as you could. And the entire time, you were at war with yourself, considering putting an end to all of it. You were so tempted to march into Sheriff Joy’s office and tell her everything. 
But you never got the chance. Because the Abbott family wasn’t the only family coming apart at the seams. Perry wasn’t the only older brother on the verge of insanity. 
Luke Tillerson had begun spiraling out of control the moment his brother died. And he was only getting worse. You hadn’t personally encountered him, but you’d heard that he was coming unglued. He firmly believed that Rhett had killed Trevor. And unbeknownst to you, he was on a mission to prove that. 
His obsession with proving Rhett’s guilt gave way to something much more sinister. Finally, it all came to a head one night when he decided he was going to take justice into his own hands. If the sheriff wasn’t competent enough to take care of things, he’d just have to do it himself. 
So, fueled by alcohol, and unhinged rage, Luke decided to target that which was most precious to Rhett Abbott. 
You’d decided to go into town that evening. You couldn’t bear to be under the same roof as Perry, and it was clear that Belle and Amy both needed a change of scenery. So you and Rhett decided to take the girls into Wabang for dinner. If only for an hour or two, you could pretend that life was as it should be, and not about to shatter into a million pieces. 
At the prospect of going out with her parents and cousin, Belle was overjoyed. It was the first time she seemed like her old self in a while, and you cherished every moment of it. 
You went to the diner in town, like you always did. Belle and Amy sat across from you and Rhett, talking and giggling and coloring pictures on their placemats. 
Surely people were whispering about you, but you didn’t care anymore. Neither did Rhett. With the walls closing in, all you wanted was to enjoy one last night of domesticity with your daughter. 
And enjoy it, you did. In fact, it was the best night you’d had ever since the whole mess started. You held your husband’s hand under the table like you did when you were first dating. You watched your daughter laugh with her cousin and your chest ached with love. For a fleeting moment in time, you felt okay. 
But it all came crashing down when you left the diner that night. 
As you strolled out into the evening air, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You headed right for Rhett’s truck, Amy and Belle holding your hands as you walked. 
But when you reached the vehicle, Rhett stopped, suddenly patting at his pockets. You gave him a questioning look. “What is it?”
With the roll of his eyes, he shook his head. “Think I left my wallet inside.” Then he tossed you the keys so you could start the truck. “Be right back.”
Thinking nothing of it, you turned to continue leading the girls to the truck. 
“I hope nobody stole Daddy’s wallet,” Belle announced, concern in her voice. 
“I’m sure he just left it on the counter,” you assured her, squeezing her shoulder. 
“Yeah, don’t worry, Belle,” Amy echoed, always happy to comfort her cousin. 
You smiled at her efforts, finding it perfectly sweet of her to look out for your daughter the way she did. But that fond smile soon gave way to a frown when you were alerted to another presence nearby. 
You heard a man’s voice behind you, just as you made it to the truck. 
“Look who it is.”
The voice made you stop dead in your tracks, and a chill of dread began to creep down your spine. Slowly, you turned around, only to find Luke Tillerson approaching you. 
He looked worse for wear. You were used to his clean-cut appearance and neatly styled hair. But now, fair blonde stubble lined his jaw. His normally clear eyes were bloodshot. And he appeared to have been drinking. So this was what everyone meant when they said he was on a downward spiral. 
Immediately, you pushed your daughter and niece behind you. “Can I help you, Luke?” You asked, tone sharp. 
Luke hummed. “Yeah. Where’s that man of yours?” 
“Across the street. Why?” 
“I wanna talk to him.”
“Well you’ll have to wait ‘til he comes outside.”
He narrowed his eyes at you, but soon grew distracted at the sight of the two girls behind you. “Hey you two,” he greeted. 
“Hi, Mr. Luke,” Amy responded. 
“Girls, get in the truck,” you spoke up, voice clear and authoritative. You had a sinking feeling that something was about to happen. And you didn’t want the children to witness it. 
Luke locked eyes with you. “Why? You afraid I’m gonna tell them the truth?”
“Get in the truck. Now,” you desperately repeated when they made no move to do so. 
The girls scrambled for the door, scampering up into the truck at your command. But Luke continued, even as they climbed inside. 
“You afraid I’m going to tell little Belle here all about her father being a goddamn murderer?” 
“That’s enough!” You cried, whirling around to face him. Rhett wasn’t a murderer. You wouldn’t stand for such an accusation. 
But he was already out of control. He surged forward, and you took a fearful step back. “Is it?” Then, he leaned in closer. “Your daughter deserves to know the truth! That her daddy killed a man!” He shouted it right at the truck window, where the girls were huddled. 
“Leave us alone!” Came your plea. You were trembling, vibrating with adrenaline and fear all at once. 
At that very moment, Rhett stepped back out of the diner, having found his wallet and tucked it back into the pocket of his jeans. But the sound of raised voices caught his attention. 
His head snapped up, eyes traveling across the street, where the truck was parked. His breathing quickened, heart thudding against his chest. It was not the sound of raised voices that jarred him. It was the sound of your voice, laced with distress. It made the hair at the back of his neck stand on end.
Without a moment of hesitation, he was walking, boots crunching against gravel as he crossed the street, quick as a flash. He couldn’t see you from this vantage point. You were hidden by the other side of the truck. But he knew someone else was with you. 
His feet broke into a run, driving him to your aid. Whoever was bothering you had picked the wrong fucking time to do so. Rhett was seconds away from knocking their teeth out.
When he rounded the truck, he came face to face with Luke Tillerson. You gasped at your husband’s sudden appearance, feeling relief and fear all at once. You knew he’d take care of the problem, but you were afraid of the outcome. 
“What’s goin’ on?” Rhett asked. There was a barely checked edge to his tone. His chest heaved. His eyes darkened. 
“Just the man I wanted to see!” Luke slurred. 
“You bothering my family, Tillerson? Because that’s what it looks like.” 
Luke shrugged, taking a swaying step toward Rhett and pointing over at you. “I was just telling your wife here that your daughter deserves to know the truth about her daddy.”
Rhett’s hands twitched at his sides. His body had gone stiff as a board. “Leave her out of this. She doesn’t know anything.” Rage bubbled beneath the surface. 
You watched him like a hawk, just waiting for his signal. If Luke pushed him any further, it wasn’t going to be pretty. You didn’t want this to escalate, but it seemed unavoidable. 
Rhett moved to step away from the truck, hoping to lead Luke away from his family should anything happen. 
“Lying to your own kid, huh? Wonder what she’ll think of you when she grows up and learns what you did.” 
Just as Rhett was hoping, Luke followed him. “You’re drunk. Go home.”
Luke scoffed. “‘m not that drunk, Abbott. You’re just trying to get me off your trail.”
“You’re scarin’ my girls. So I’m gonna tell you again, go home.”
“No.” Then, the blonde lurched forward, arms shooting out to shove at Rhett. 
Your husband’s eyes locked with yours for the briefest of moments. “Get in the truck,” he gruffed. 
You didn’t stick around to argue. Quickly, you climbed into the passenger side, slamming the door shut firmly behind you. 
“Mama,” Belle whimpered from the backseat. 
You turned around, meeting her tearful gaze as you reached your hand out to touch her cheek. “It’s okay, honey. I want you and Amy to get down on the floor, alright?” You didn’t want them to witness the fight that was sure to ensue. 
Both girls crouched down against the floorboards of the truck, and you turned back around, your eyes fixed on the altercation taking place. 
Rhett wasn’t usually one to start fights, but he could finish them. He’d calmed down considerably since your daughter had come into the world, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t defend himself, and his family, when it came down to it. 
While the girls hunkered down in the backseat, you watched through the window, anxiety thrumming in your chest. The two men were talking in raised voices, growing more and more agitated with each passing second. 
Luke shoved him again, and that was it for Rhett. “Told you not to put your fuckin’ hands on me,” he hissed. He lunged right for the second eldest Tillerson, landing a solid punch to his jaw. 
But Luke could hold his own. He merely stumbled slightly, and then came right back at Rhett. But the right hook he aimed for him was blocked, avoiding its sure blow to Rhett’s face. 
The scuffle escalated, and you clutched the door handle, prepared to step out there if necessary. To do what, you weren’t quite sure. You knew there was no reasoning with either of them in this moment. If you tried to insert yourself between them, you would get hurt. 
Rhett was sober and could hold his own, while Luke was drunk, leaving him less coordinated than usual. You were pretty certain your husband would be the one to end this fight. 
But then you saw it. A glint of silver in the light of the street lamp, and it was as if your entire world had stopped turning on its axis. 
In what seemed like slow motion, Luke surged forward, a hunting knife clutched in his hand. Driven by your need to protect your husband, you cried out, “no matter what, you stay on this floor, and you do not get up!” to the girls. 
Then, you were jumping out of the truck, dashing around to the back, where you knew Rhett kept a tire iron. Hoisting yourself up, ignoring the pain that flashed through your ribs as you slammed against the edge of the truck bed in your haste, you grabbed the large tool and took off running. 
But you were too late. 
Just as you neared the two men, you watched in horror as Luke found a weakness in Rhett, and took advantage of his moment of vulnerability, plunging that knife right into the front of his body. 
Rhett breathed out a strangled grunt as searing pain flashed through his midsection. His eyes flickered down to the knife embedded in his body, then back up to Luke. He knew this was it. He was going to die, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 
“Tell my brother I said hi,” Luke rasped, trembling with his rage, fully intending to yank that knife away and sink it into Rhett’s heart. But all of the sudden, a brutal, blood-curdling scream ripped through the night air.
“NO!” And then, a resounding, sickening CRACK! Within seconds, Luke Tillerson was on the ground, out cold. 
His knife clattered to the cement, and along with it, Rhett stumbled back, letting out a pained growl, similar to the wail of a wounded animal. Instinctively, his hand came up, pressing over the wound as crimson soaked through his shirt. Shit. There was a lot of blood. More than there should’ve been. 
He locked eyes with you. Then, he stumbled forward, already woozy on his feet. 
You dropped the tire iron with a loud, metallic clash, scrambling to Rhett’s side as he careened forward. “H-he stabbed me,” he gasped in shock. He pulled his hand back to stare at the blood that had stained his skin. “He fuckin’ stabbed me.”
“Let’s get to the truck,” you said, your voice wavering. It took everything in you to keep your panic at bay. 
It proved to be a difficult task with all his weight leaning on you, but somehow, you managed to get him to the vehicle. He leaned against the side as you opened the door, and when you turned to help him into the truck, you realized how pale he’d gotten in just that short amount of time.
Your heart hammered wildly in your chest, and you began to shake as terror ripped through your body. The hospital was an hour away from where you were. How on earth were you going to get him there in time? The amount of blood he was losing was alarming. Surely he would bleed out before you could get him help.
Inside the truck, you could hear the girls crying. Belle was inconsolable as she watched her father struggle to climb up into the seat. 
“Daddy!” She shrieked, frightened out of her mind. 
If you hadn’t been entirely focused on getting your husband into the truck, you would’ve mourned the fact that your daughter had to witness this. But now was not the time. You had to get help. Had to save him. 
You yanked your jacket off, lifting up his shirt before you pressed the coat to his abdomen. “Hold this tightly in place,” you instructed him, placing his hand over it. Then you slammed the door shut and sprinted around the truck, hopping into the driver’s side and starting the engine.
As you gunned it down the road, all you could hear were your daughter’s terrified wails, and Amy tearfully asking you if her uncle was going to be okay. I don’t know. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.
Beside you, Rhett was focused on holding the fabric of your jacket over his wound. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears spilling from the corners at the sound of his baby crying. There was nothing he could do to stop it. He’d fought so hard to protect her, and now here he was, bleeding out in front of her, effectively traumatizing her. 
“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, “I’m sorry!” 
You could hardly hear yourself think over the chaos taking place within the truck’s cab. You tried your best to comfort Belle and Amy, even though you could barely keep it together. “I’m taking Daddy to the hospital, okay? The doctors will be able to help him. I need you to take deep breaths for me, baby. Can you do that? In and out, through your nose.”
Fighting to calm your child down in that moment was one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do. You longed to hold her in your arms. To cradle your little girl to your chest, as you’d done when she was a wee babe, and tell her that it was all going to be okay. But you couldn’t. You could only use your voice to comfort her, and it tore you apart. 
Because how could you be of any comfort when the love of your life was bleeding to death beside you, and your daughter and niece had no choice but to watch it? 
And then, Rhett was trying to speak. “I’m s-sorry,” he repeated, head thrown back against the seat. “Baby, I’m sorry. I tr-tried to keep it from her. Tried to keep her safe. I-I failed her. I failed you both. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t!” You cried. “Please. Just save your strength.” You weren’t sure how much of it he had left.
You sped the entire way to the hospital, racing against the clock. Please don’t take my husband from me. Please. Who were you even asking? God? It seemed that He’d turned His back on you. He wouldn’t help you. You were alone. Forsaken. 
That drive to the hospital was the longest forty-five minutes of your life. By the time you skidded to a halt in front of the emergency entrance, Rhett was barely conscious. As you threw the truck into park, you turned back to look at the two frightened little girls in the backseat, holding one another for dear life.
“Stay here. Do not move until I come back out for you, okay?” You sharply instructed. Then you jumped out of the truck, feet pounding against the ground as you dashed into the hospital, throwing yourself through the doors.
There was no way you’d be able to get Rhett out of the truck on your own. You needed help. So you cried out for it. “Help me! Please, my husband was stabbed! He’s going to bleed to death!”
At your desperate pleas, a few orderlies sprang into action, grabbing a stretcher and sprinting outside with it. You followed them, watching as they tugged Rhett out of his seat and placed him on the stretcher. There were voices around you. Shouted commands. Mentions of a dangerous amount of blood loss. 
They whisked him away as you blindly followed after them, watching as your husband was ripped away from you. Is he going to be okay? Is he going to survive? Help him. Help him. Help him!
You didn’t realize you were shouting until a kind, gentle nurse was in your line of sight, cautiously holding onto your trembling shoulders. “We’ve got him, honey. He’s in good hands. We’ll help him as best as we can.”
You looked at her, nodding your head. “O-okay. Okay.”
“Do you have anyone you need to alert? Any family that needs to know about this?”
“My…my, um, in-laws.”
“Alright. Why don’t we just set you up in the waiting area and you can call them and let them know?”
“N-no,” you said, as she tried to lead you away. “My daughter…my niece. I need to…I have to go get them from the car.”
“Do you want me to help you?”
You barely even remembered saying yes, but soon, your girls were at your side, and an orderly had kindly volunteered to park the truck for you. The sweet nurse from before, whose name was Angela, led you to a quiet corner of the waiting area and informed you that she’d be nearby in case you needed anything. 
As soon as you sat down, Belle was grabbing at you, tearfully begging to sit in your lap. She was what brought you back from the precipice of hysteria. Your baby needed you to take care of her. So you shifted into that nurturing mode, focused solely on protecting and providing for her. 
You called Cecelia while you sat there, informing her of what had happened. Beside herself with emotion, she assured you that she would be there as quickly as she could, with Royal and Perry in tow. 
And then you sat there. And sat. And sat. Belle remained huddled against your chest, her arms around your neck. Amy burrowed into your side. And you held them both, comforting these poor little ones who had just experienced so much trauma. 
Everything had changed in a split second. One man’s decision had led you to this very moment. The moment in which you held part of your entire world in your arms, while the other half lay bleeding out on an operating table as doctors tried to save him.
You would learn that the knife Luke had stabbed Rhett with had gone deep enough to cause an internal bleed, and some organ damage. Surgery was necessary to repair it. He’d lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. He needed a transfusion, or he would not survive.
The girls were right there with you when the doctor told you all of this. Belle started weeping against your chest. Amy tugged at your arm, her owlish eyes fearful. “Is Uncle Rhett going to be okay?”
You lovingly stroked her cheek with your hand. “The doctors are doing everything they can for him.” But you didn’t know if your husband would pull through.
You had no time to dwell on it, because that was the moment that Royal, Cecelia, and Perry walked into the room. At the sight of her father, Amy sprang from your side and ran to him, falling into his arms as she hugged him tightly. 
You stood, still holding Belle in your arms as you stepped toward your family. Cece reached for you, placing a hand on your back. “Honey, I’m so sorry.” Her eyes were glimmering with unshed tears. She was barely holding it together. 
“They know anything yet?” Royal spoke up. 
You began to relay the information the doctor had given you, your voice wavering with emotion and exhaustion. You were at your wit's end. It was all catching up to you. The stress you’d been under. The constant scrutiny your family had been subjected to. The suffering your own child had just endured, after all you’d done to protect her.
And that was what did you in. 
Perry asked a question. “Do they think he’s gon’ pull through?”
You locked eyes with him. He stood there, and he had the nerve to look like he was about to cry. Wide, dark eyes shimmering under the fluorescent lights. And you snapped. Without a word, you set Belle down, sending her to her grandma. Then you looked at Cece. “Take her to get a snack, please,” you instructed, eerily calm. You weren’t going to subject your daughter to any more trauma.
“I don’t think–”
“Take her,” you pressed. 
Your mother-in-law clamped her mouth shut and nodded before she gathered up Belle and Amy and led them out of the room.
Then, you turned back to Perry.
“You did this,” you growled, jabbing your finger in his face. “My husband is dying. My child is traumatized. And it’s all BECAUSE OF YOU!”
You were blinded by a rage you had never known. A burning, churning, all-consuming rage. Red clouded your vision. And you lost yourself. You lunged at him, wailing with your own kind of agony as you tried to hurt him the way he’d hurt your family. 
You landed a jarring punch to his nose before someone caught you from behind and yanked you back, even as you fought wildly against their hold. Perry stumbled back, clutching his nose as blood gushed through the spaces between his fingers. You vaguely registered Royal as the one who held you.
“Enough!” He hissed in your ear. You were drawing the attention of the hospital staff. 
“You broke my fuckin’ nose!” Perry exclaimed through his hands. 
“That’s what you get! He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this!”
It took Royal shaking you roughly to finally shut you up. “I said ENOUGH!”
You’d never heard him yell before. But it silenced you immediately. Your vision cleared, and you finally looked into his face. 
“You need to control yourself,” he lowly commanded you. 
“Don’t you dare speak to me about controlling myself. The reason we are in this mess is because he,” you jammed your finger in Perry’s direction, “couldn’t control himself.”
“You causing a scene in the middle of the fuckin’ hospital ain’t any better!”
“Is there a problem here?” A member of the hospital security team had finally stepped into the room.
“No,” Royal gruffly spoke up.
The guard looked at Perry. “You should probably seek medical attention, sir.”
“I’m fine,” he snapped.
“You sure?” The man reiterated. Then, “I can get the cops involved if need be. Or are we going to behave like civil adults from now on?”
“We’re fine,” Royal insisted. “Sorry to disturb the peace. Won’t happen again.”
“Better not.” Then he walked away, leaving the three of you alone in the waiting room. 
You stared at Perry, your chest heaving. “Perry, either you confess for what you did, or I’ll do it for you. I’m done playing this game, trying to protect a man who doesn’t deserve protection.” You crowded his space again. “And if Rhett dies, there will be no place safe in heaven and earth for you. I’ll put you in the goddamn ground.”
An eye for an eye, after all. 
Then you walked away, holding back the bitter tears that had begun to blur your vision. The adrenaline was wearing off. Your fist was throbbing from the punch you’d thrown. It would likely be swollen after the fact. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore, except your daughter and your husband. And at the rate you were going, you might only have one of them left. 
You stumbled into the nearest bathroom, careening forward as your hands shot out to grip the sink. You bowed your head, letting out a broken sob. You were spiraling out of control. Your life was falling apart. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. The tears had begun to flow and you couldn’t stop them. 
But you couldn’t lose it now. Not when Belle was depending on you. So you simply turned on the faucet and splashed cool water on your face, swallowing your sobs before you dried your face. When you exited the bathroom, you found that Cecelia had brought the girls back to the waiting area, their snacks in hand. Perry was nowhere to be found. Likely taking care of his broken nose.
When Belle saw you, she ran to you, and you took her into your arms again. As you took a seat on one of the uncomfortable vinyl chairs, she turned to show you what her grandmother had bought her from the vending machine.
“I got Goldfish,” she softly informed you. Even in the midst of a frightening situation, her childlike wonder still showed. She was only five, after all.
You tried to smile at her as you reached up to touch her round cheek. “They look yummy, baby.”
She sat in your lap and munched on her snack. It proved to be a welcome distraction for her. But she didn’t want to be separated from you. Even when Cece pulled out a small notebook from her purse and set it out for Amy to draw on. Belle loved drawing, but she refused to leave your arms to join her cousin.
So you held her, allowing her to stay close to you, because you needed this just as much as she did. 
And then the doctor walked into the room. Royal stood immediately. You leaned forward in your seat, your heart quickening in your chest. The doctor’s expression was unreadable. What was he going to say? Was your husband gone?
Please, no. No, no, no.
But then, hope. “There was considerable damage, and a lot of bleeding. But we managed to get it under control. He’s stable now, but he’s not awake yet. It’ll probably take him a bit to come out of it. This kind of trauma takes a lot out of a person.”
“So y-you’re saying that–” You started, but couldn’t get the words out.
“As far as I can tell, your husband is going to be fine, Mrs. Abbott,” the doctor assured you.
Immediately, you fell into a fit of sobs. You held Belle tightly to you, and you cried, rocking your baby back and forth. “Daddy’s going to be okay. He’s going to be just fine,” you told her. She cried with you.
A little while later, you were permitted to see him. Maybe it was selfish of you, but you longed for it to only be you and your daughter to be the ones to greet him first, and no one else. But thankfully, Cecelia sensed that, and she gently said, “you go. We’ll come in and see him when you’re ready.”
You squeezed the hand she’d placed against your arm, and then slipped away, Belle in tow. As you walked to the room they’d placed Rhett in, a tremor ran through your body. You weren’t sure if you were prepared for what you were about to walk into. But you squared your shoulders and walked into that room anyway.
There was your husband, that strong, steady, immovable force of a man, laid out in a hospital bed, vulnerable and weak. You were overcome with emotion, and it welled up within you, threatening to spill forth like a waterfall. You couldn’t believe you even had any tears left to cry. 
“My girls,” Rhett murmured, attempting a sleepy smile as you approached. 
“Daddy!” Belle exclaimed, pulling out of your grasp and rushing toward her father. 
“Be careful, baby,” you warned her so she wouldn’t jump on top of him. 
But she was very gentle with him. She reached out a little hand and closed it around his fingers. “That was so scary,” she whispered. 
His cerulean eyes welled with tears. “I know. I’m sorry you had to see me like that, little chick.”
You reached for him, taking hold of his free hand. “I thought…I thought I was going to lose you,” you whimpered. You ran your fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his forehead. 
Now his bottom lip had begun to quiver, and he squeezed your hand. “I’m sorry.”
You didn’t say anything in reply. You couldn’t, because you were too verklempt to do so. You sank into the chair beside his bed, still clutching his hand, and you cried. As did he. Belle scurried around to your side of the bed, squeezing her way between you. So you held your daughter, and you wept. 
You wept for the trauma that she had endured. You wept for the harm that had been inflicted upon your husband. And he wept for you, and for his child. He had tried so hard to keep it all away from her, but his failure was evident, and it broke him. He could not protect his family. He never could.
No words were exchanged after your tears slowed. Nothing could express the magnitude of what you were feeling, so you said nothing. Instead, you sat in that hospital room, and you cherished this intimate moment between you and the two loves of your very life, as painful as it was. 
You didn’t know what the future held after this moment. You didn’t know what awaited you beyond the four walls of this hospital room. So you drank in the rare moment of peace before the floodgates opened and all hell broke loose.
All too soon, that moment of serenity was broken by a gentle knock at the door. You turned to see Royal, Cece, and Amy in the doorway. Reluctantly, you motioned them into the room. It wasn’t right for you to keep them away from him. But you knew if Perry so much as attempted to set foot in the room, you would forbid him from doing so. 
You couldn’t bear to look at him, not after he was the reason your husband was laid up in this hospital bed. You would protect Rhett with every fiber of your being, and if that meant barring his own brother from seeing him, then so be it. 
But unbeknownst to you, Perry had left the hospital grounds, and was already headed for Wabang. There was a piece of paper thrown haphazardly onto the passenger seat of his truck. A sheet of stationary with the hospital logo. 
And on that sheet of paper was a confession. Written in detail, describing everything that had happened the night Trevor was murdered. In that letter, embellished as it may have been, it absolved your husband of all guilt, save for him landing a few punches. 
I’m the one who killed him. His blood is on my hands, and mine alone. 
He was going to leave the letter for Sheriff Joy, and then wait it out. 
He knew if he would have simply manned up and taken responsibility for his wrongdoing in the first place, none of this would have happened. His brother wouldn’t have been gravely injured. His family wouldn’t have been torn apart. 
He was a fool. And he was reaping the consequences of that foolishness. But it was too little too late to fix it now. And somehow, in his heart of hearts, he knew that. Knew that even this confession would not fix the mess he’d made. There was only one solution he could come up with in his muddled, unstable mind that would even come close to repairing the damage that had been done. He just wasn’t sure if he had the courage to do it.
Back at the hospital, the time had come to head home. Rhett desperately needed his rest, it was evident in the way he could hardly keep his eyes open, or barely lift his hands from where they lay at his sides. 
His body had been put through the wringer, and his recovery would not be easy. It would be slow and painful. He wasn’t sure if he had the strength to get through it. 
“Alright, I think it’s time we head home,” Cecelia finally said, squeezing Amy’s shoulders. “Uncle Rhett is exhausted. He needs his rest.”
“But I wanna stay,” the little girl protested. “Please, Grandma?”
“No ma’am. We’ll come see him another day. I promise. Now let’s go.”
Reluctantly, she took her jacket from her grandmother’s hands and shrugged into it. Then, Cece reached her hand out toward Belle. “I can take her home and get her tucked into bed.”
But the thought of leaving either of her parents was unfathomable to your little girl. She gasped, immediately whirling around and hiding herself against your side. “No!” She cried, holding onto you like she used to do when she was a toddler and something had frightened her. 
Your heart broke at her fear, and you wrapped a comforting, protective arm around her shoulders. “I think it’s best if she stays with me. Thank you, though.”
Cece nodded, and instead, reached out to hug you. “I’m sorry it came to this,” she whispered. 
“Me too,” came your reply. 
A few moments later, the trio was heading out the door, and soon, the room was quiet again. You gazed back at Rhett, and found he was already beginning to nod off to sleep, unable to keep his eyes open any longer. Your heart ached in your chest at the sight. He looked like a frail little boy. 
“Can we stay with Daddy all night, Mama?” Belle asked you, after she’d calmed down from her initial upset. 
You cupped her chin as you looked at her. “I don’t think so. The hospital will probably want us to leave. I can get us a motel room close by, how does that sound?”
“But I don’t wanna leave him,” she continued to protest, her bottom lip quivering much like her father’s when he cried. 
You knelt in front of her, taking her hands in your own. “I know, sweet girl. I don’t either. But I need you to be brave for me, okay? Daddy needs to get some rest so his body can heal. We can’t be with him the entire time. We’ll go sleep at a hotel, and then we’ll come right back tomorrow morning. I promise.”
She sniffled, glancing from you to her father. Even though he could barely keep his eyes open, he mustered a smile at her. “I’ll be okay, little chick. Go with your mama. She needs you.”
Tearfully, Belle nodded. “Okay, Daddy.” Then she scurried forward, leaning in so she could kiss Rhett’s cheek. “I love you.”
He hummed tiredly, eyes drifting shut. “I love you too.”
You moved to his bedside again, placing your hand over his own. The hands that had held your face as he kissed you on your wedding day. The hands that had held your unfathomably tiny daughter when she was a premature newborn. The hands that had calmed spooked horses, and built fences. The hands that held you together. 
“I love you, sweet man,” you whispered as you learned down to press a kiss against his forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
And with that, you took your daughter’s hand in your own, and led her out of the room. You fought tears as you went, entirely overwhelmed. Half of your heart was lying in that hospital bed, and leaving it behind was more agonizing than you’d been expecting. 
But you put on a brave face and left the hospital. Your child needed a warm place to sleep after the events that had taken place. You weren’t sure if you could make the hour long drive home. It seemed much too daunting, and you feared you might pass out from exhaustion if you attempted it. 
So, a nearby motel it was. You chose the cheapest place you could find, one that also included breakfast, and that was where you ended up for the night. No sooner had you made it to the room and gotten Belle in bed, than she was asleep, succumbing to the weariness that had plagued her.
You slipped into bed beside her, wrapping your arms around her little body. You were certain you would end up crying yourself to sleep, but you realized that you quite literally had no more tears left to cry. 
So you held your daughter to your chest, and you drifted off into a fitful, restless slumber. Every time you let sleep overtake you, you were plagued with the nightmare of watching Luke run your husband through. 
It was torturous, and soon, you gave up on sleep altogether, choosing to stay awake until the sun began to rise high in the sky. And as its first rays shone through the window, Belle stirred in your arms, and then sleepily looked up at you.
“Morning, baby. How did you sleep?” You softy asked her.
“Okay. I was really tired.”
“I know you were.”
“Can we go downstairs and have pancakes for breakfast?”
“We sure can, little one.”
“I wanna take some to Daddy, too.”
“We can do that, as well.”
You got up for the day, and you helped Belle get ready, getting her into the shower and giving her the motel soap products to use. She made a small fuss about having to wear the same clothes she’d worn the day before, but you gently reminded her that you had no other options, so she dressed without complaint. 
Before long, you were downstairs, hurriedly prepping and eating a quick breakfast before you were out the door, a box of pancakes clutched in Belle’s hands. She’d even use a pen to write for Daddy.
Then, to the hospital you went. When you arrived, you were overwhelmingly relieved to find that Rhett was awake, but he was very clearly in a world of pain. You heard it in the strangled groan he let out when he leaned forward to hug his daughter.
“Ahh,” he hissed, jolting back as he placed a ginger hand against his abdomen.
“Are you okay, Daddy?” Belle fearfully asked.
“I’m fi-fine, just a little sore, is all,” he assured her. This was more than just a little sore. He was in agony.
“When was the last time you had a dose of pain meds?” You softly asked.
“Haven’t gotten ‘em yet.”
“Oh, baby,” you gasped. Without a second of hesitation, you pressed the nurse call button, determined to have things taken care of. Before long, Rhett finally had his pain medicine, and he was soon happily eating the sub-par motel pancakes while Belle sat beside him on the bed, content to just be near him.
This journey you were about to embark on would not be an easy one. Rhett had a long road ahead of him. But you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were be with him every step of the way. You would support him, protect him, and love him, just like he had always done for you.
You learned that he would need to stay in the hospital until he was strong enough to go home. The doctor was hopeful, and assured you Rhett’s wound looked good, as far as severe injuries go, and that it should heal fine, granted there were no unexpected complications. 
However, while his prognosis appeared hopeful, there was still your family situation to be dealt with. While Belle sat on the floor, your headphones in her ears as she watched a movie on your phone, you explained to Rhett what had happened.
“You broke my brother’s nose?” He asked in disbelief. You hadn’t expected him to be so amused, but he was smiling.
“He had it coming,” you simply replied. But you quickly grew serious. “Rhett, this has gone on long enough. He nearly tore our family apart because of his stupidity. I know he’s your brother, but he isn’t worth losing your life over. I’m done protecting him. If the cops come asking questions, I’m going to tell them the truth about him.”
Rhett nodded, his face grim. “I know. I’m just sorry I didn’t give him up sooner. You have to understand where I’m comin’ from, here. I thought I was doing the right thing by following my dad’s lead. I thought if I did, it would save Amy from suffering any more heartache. And I thought it would be the best way to keep you an’ Belle safe. But I…I couldn’t even do that. And now my sweet little girl is…” he trailed off, his emotions welling up so intensely inside him that he could hardly speak. “Now my little girl is traumatized for life, all because I couldn’t just man up and turn my brother in.”
“But the thing is, you shouldn’t have had to protect him. But you did, because you’re expected to just do whatever your family asks of you. They put everything on your shoulders and I’m ashamed that I didn’t stand up for you a long time ago and put a stop to it. I’m in this just as much as you are. We both have to live with what happened last night, knowing it could have been prevented.”
“I’m scared of what comes after this. I don’t know if…if I’ll be a free man or not. But I’m willing to pay my dues, if I need to. I want to be a better man. Want to be an example to Belle and own up to my wrongdoings.”
You nodded, squeezing his hand in your own. “Whatever happens, I’m with you.”
Maybe it was too little too late to make things right. But he was going to try his damndest to do so. And you were going to support him in that plight. 
Later that day, Royal and Cecelia showed up to the hospital with Amy, which you had already expected. Belle was happy to have her cousin’s company, and you wouldn’t deprive her of such a thing. She needed all the support she could get. 
But what you didn’t know was that Perry was on his way to the hospital at that very moment, with the intention of speaking to you, and only you. He had something very important to tell you. He just wasn’t sure if you would listen to reason.
You were preoccupied with speaking to Cece when he arrived. You didn’t notice him at first, until you were suddenly made aware of a presence darkening the door of Rhett’s room. You lifted your head to look, and the moment you saw who it was, your body went tense. 
“What are you doing here?” You demanded, already stepping toward him. You weren’t going to allow him near your husband or child. 
“I need to talk to you,” he replied. He most certainly looked worse for wear, with a bandage over his nose, barely hiding the bruising and swelling you’d caused. 
“I have nothing to say to you, Perry. Not after what you’ve done.”
“You don’t gotta say anything to me. I just need you to listen. You’re gonna want to hear this, believe me.”
You weren’t sure what made you follow him. It was as if your feet were moving of their own accord. You let him lead you out into the hall, just out of earshot of everyone else in the room. When he turned to face you, you took a step back, taking in a steadying breath so you wouldn’t fly off the handle.
“Wanted you to know that I confessed. To everythin’. Left a letter for the sheriff last night.”
“You what?”
“I left Rhett out of it. It’s all on me. Figured I’ve caused enough suffering as it is. So I’m puttin’ an end to it right now.”
You were utterly speechless. You could only stare at him in disbelief. He’d really done it. After the weeks of hell he’d put you through, he’d simply written a letter and left it at that. “I-I don’t know what you want me to say to that.”
“Don’t have to say anything. Just wanted you to know.” And then, he turned to go. He walked away from you. Walked away from his parents, his brother, his daughter. He walked out through those hospital doors, and he didn’t look back.
You were left in the middle of that hospital hallway, reeling. You didn’t know what to think. Didn’t know how to feel. Part of you was relieved. The other part of you was so enraged you could hardly stand it. You wanted to scream. Wanted to cry. Wanted to destroy whatever was in your path. 
But you didn’t. You turned on your heel and went back to your husband and daughter. You acted like nothing had happened out there in that hallway. But that couldn’t be furthest from the truth.
Life went on. And you had no choice but to let it. Rhett was released from the hospital a few days later. He had strict instructions to take it easy and not do anything strenuous for the next four weeks. 
In those four weeks, you took care of him around the clock. And with each passing day, he grew stronger. He was well on his way to healing. But the emotional damage that had been caused had yet to heal for any of you.
And the very man who was responsible for that turmoil? He went missing a day after he confessed to the murder of Trevor Tillerson. He was just…gone. Without so much as a trace. No note. No explanation. He’d seemingly vanished into thin air.
The only one who seemed to know anything about it was Royal. He never admitted as much, but you could tell that he knew something. Perhaps where Perry had gone. The cops settled on telling the public that he was on the run, and currently at large. A heft reward was offered to anyone who knew of Perry Abbott’s whereabouts. 
They never did find him.
That left the rest of his family behind to pick up the pieces. Amy was now, effectively, an orphan, even it the fate of her parents was unknown. Cecelia and Royal took her in, vowing to raise her in Perry’s absence. The poor child was never the same after the disappearance of her father. Her spark had vanished along with him.
Perry’s disappearance was what pushed you over the edge. You knew that you could not spend another minute in Wabang. Not after all you had endured. So, as soon as Rhett was strong enough to travel, you decided together that it was time to move on. If not for your sake, but for your daughter’s.
It was time to head out in search of the peace you had so desperately been longing for. 
You chose to settle in a peaceful town another state over. While money was still tight, you made do with what you had. You enrolled Belle in an entirely new school. And together, as a family, you sought out therapy to cope with all you had been subjected to.
The healing process after leaving Wabang was no walk in the park, to say the least. You and Belle were both plagued by nightmares. Knowing you were suffering in such a way tore Rhett apart. But you fought your way through it together. Until the nightmares lessened and the fear gave way to peace.
Rhett carried a scar on his torso, a permanent reminder of the knife that had nearly taken his life. But every time you looked at it, you were filled with gratefulness that he was still here, with you. That he was still able to be the father your little girl needed.
The bond the three of you shared had grown deeper still throughout this grueling process. It was a bond that could never be broken. And while it had taken a lot to get to that point, you realized that it had shaped you into the person you were always meant to be. The mother you were created to be.
You watched your daughter flourish in a new place with new friends. You watched your husband come into his own and find a way to provide for his family, just like he’d always dreamed of doing. And together, the three of you found peace and healing. 
It was no easy feat, but that was okay. Because you had each other. And that was all you’d ever need.
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