#ptolomaea

your head hung low, barely awake. your system was full of drugs and some sort of alcohol

but you started to prefer the drugs after a while. they made things more..tolerable

half the time you would just lay there, barely conscious. it had been this way for years

you spent most of your time this way, hanging from the ceiling, or buckled on the floor when night comes along

at first, life with him had been great. perfect. he was so kind, and he loved you so much

or, at least, you thought

but if you’ve learned anything in your life, you can’t always trust what people say

after a while, when you started getting attached, he changed

when you first started the journey, you felt free. free from your parents. free from their expectations and abuse

you never went to the same small town diner more than once or twice, to stay hidden

you had to stay hidden so that nobody would try to find you guys and make you leave him, that’s what he told you

and when you were in those motel rooms? it was like he was the only man you knew who wasn’t angry. besides joe of course

he never told you why he was on the road too. he told you he had fallen in love with america and wanted to see it all. you didn’t ask him about his life before

you were just so in love

but not all good things last forever, you suppose

he started to manipulate you

it was small at first, he knew exactly what to say and do. he would make you feel guilty if you didn’t sleep with him

didn’t you want to make him happy?

and you fell for it. because you couldn’t get away, you were too attached, too convinced you were in love, convinced he loved you

turns out all he wanted to do was get your clothes off and hurt you

the first time he used the drugs, you absolutely hated it. they weren’t like the sleeping medication your mother would make you take when you were younger

they were so gross, so terrifying. you didn’t want to do them, drugs were bad for you

but after a while, you gave in you didn’t have much of a choice, you either let him give you them or he forced a needle in your arm

besides, it helped you forget. or, at least, in the moment. but it always came back to you at night when you were alone

one day, he brought you with him to some sort of club or party. whatever it was, it was sketchy

to get there, you had to follow him through some creepy abandoned building, and then down the stairs to the basement

that was never a good sign

the sound of music gets closer the further down you walk, along with the smell of cheap alcohol and cigarettes

when the basement door opens, the bright colored lights blind you

you squint, trying to adjust to the lighting. he doesn’t even seem phased. he pulls you along as he strides in

there’s couples dancing, well, more like grinding on each other

everyone had a drink in their hand. at a table in the corner, a group of guys were snorting something

isaiah leads you to the back of the room, ignoring the rest of the party

he leads you to a spot with a curtain instead of a door. lovely

he tugs you closer as he pushed it open, revealing a room with a group of men

black leather and dark glasses was all you could see

the men are scattered around the room, some drinking, some smoking, some doing other drugs

there’s a table in the middle of the room. there were cards scattered across it as the some of the men argued while playing..poker?

the men look up when you two enter the room, and these grins cover their faces

disgusting, gut wrenching grins

isaiah closes the curtain and leads you into the room

“hey sweetheart, what’s your name?” a tall, intimidating man asks as he stands, approaching

"y/n.." you barely whisper, pure fear filling your eyes as you look up at him

“what a pretty little thing” another man chuckles. one of them turns to isaiah “how much?”

“hundred bucks per hour” isaiah states

a man grabs a few bills, counting them and handing them over as if it was nothing

“how’s a grand for five hours? i’ll throw in a little as a tip for the pretty thing” the man winks at you, knowing none of the actual money would he going to you

“deal” isaiah grins, pocketing the bills as another man turns to you, grabbing a hanger and handing you it

you stare at it, confused with the whole situation. a hundred dollars an hour for what?

on it hung a lingerie set, and isaiah grabbed your arm, pulling you to a corner with another curtain

he pushes it open, pulling you in and closing it “w-what’s going on?” your voice is shaky, your hands gripping the hanger in fear

“you love me right?” he asks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. you nod and he smiles sickeningly

“good. put this on and make those men happy just like you make me”

he watches you put it on, your body trembling with fear. he guides you to step out slowly, watching as the men stare like you’re a piece of meat

he made sure everyone knew he was the first one to leave his mark on you. he wanted everyone to see who you belong to

then he sat back, drinking and watching. he pours another while you shake your ass

you begged him not to make you do it again the next time he brought you there

you stood outside the building with him, pleading through tears. but he just pulled you into his arms, his embrace more crushing than comforting

“remember when you said you wanted to make happy?” he strokes your hair, knowing you would do anything he asked

and you did. so you gave in, following him in again, every single time

he had an obsession with the money, you were addicted to the drugs

you still thought of joe, all the time. wondering, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you would get to see him again one day. if you could just run into his arms, cling to him and never let gopp

you remember the last time you spoke like it was yesterday. you had gotten into a fight, throwing harsh words at each other

“it’s not my fault you care more about popularity than your best friend!” you had yelled

you knew it was stupid. you knew he cared about you more than anything. but you felt like you were losing him to it.

and instead of talking about it like a normal person would, you did what you always did. push him away anyway without realizing

“that’s not true and you know it y/n!” he shouts back, running his fingers through his hair “then why did you just ditch me the second you got popular!”

“i didn’t! you separated yourself!” he exclaims and you purse your lips, knowing he’s right. he always is

“god, this is why we didn’t work out. you don’t trust me. and you make everything ten times more dramatic than it needs to be” he sighs

your stomach drops at his words, overthinking them immediately

“don’t look at me like that” he adds in an almost pleading tone, seeing the look of hurt and disappointment

“how else am i supposed to look at you?” you snapped, trying to hide your sadness with anger

“i know this all is hard for you, but i can’t be there for you if you yell at me every second” he tried to step forward- you step away

“fine, then don’t be there” you spit and turn around, truly devastated with yourself as you walk away from your best friend

the one person who’s ever truly been there for you

you were never allowed out of the house. that was just one of the rules. you stay in the attic, and you don’t get punished. simple

so you definitely hadn’t expected it when isaiah had told you that he needed to go run an errand, you were coming with him

usually he just kept you drugged while he was gone or chained up, the door locked

“hey, i gotta run to the store, get up” he walks over, unlocking the chain

you stumble, rubbing your sore wrists- you chew your lip, steadying yourself and following him down the creaky stairs

he pulled out his key, unlocking the latch on the door and guiding you out

he locked the door behind him before leading you down the path. the house was in the woods, so you had to walk a bit to get to his car

the dirt was rough on your socks. you walked for about five minutes, silent except for the sound of twigs under your feet

the forest was calm, save for the few occasional birds. it was the opposite of the attic

you made it to his truck, and he helped you in. you buckled in, fidgeting with your nails

you had no idea that he was letting you out because he wanted you to see life one last time

one last time before he took that life away. completely

the drive was quiet, the music on the radio and the engine purring the only sound filling your ears. you watched the surroundings nearby as the car drove

after a while of driving, he pulls up to a small store. it’s not very busy, the area far away from the house and in a smaller town

he reaches into the back of his truck, grabbing a hoodie and tossing it at you. you pull it on, pulling the hood on

he gets out of the truck, walking around and opening your door. you climb out, following as his large frame leads you to the doors

he opens the door, leading you in. the smell hits you. it’s not something everyone else smells when they step into a store like this, but it is for you

books

you look up at him, and he nods. you quickly rush over to the shelves. you run your fingers over the spines

he had brought you books in the past, his way of ‘rewarding’ you for behaving. but he had never actually brought you to pick for yourself

he let you look around for hours. he wanted to at least let you have something nice before he took your life

after all, you had earned him a lot of money for a while, he figured he would let you go out and choose what you wanted instead of just getting something for you himself

plus, he liked watching the way him doing such a small thing made you so happy. he thought it was pathetic

you leave the store with four books. he drums his fingers on the steering wheel as he drives back to the house, occasionally glancing over

you stare at the first book intently as you read

he found it ironic. you bought romance books when the romance in your life was all a lie

he pulls into the lot, hopping out. he walks around the car again, opening your door

he grabs the collar from the back, fastening it back around your neck. you hop out, carrying the bag of books so delicately

you followed him back inside the house. he locked the front door and turned to you

"head up to the attic" he commanded. you walk upstairs, climbing into the attic

you walk over and sit down on the mattress in the corner, setting the bag down and grabbing the book out

the wind blew in from the cracked window. his footsteps neared the attic, and he appeared a few moments later. he walks over

he kneels down next to you, stroking your hair almost mockingly

“what do you say?” he tsks, as if he was speaking to a child. you look up at him, so fucking manipulated “thank you isaiah” you speak timidly

every time you spoke, he loved it. your soft voice made him want to break you even more

and he knew you would never leave him. because nobody would love you after everything he had done to you

a few days had passed, and he had been so oddly sweet to you. you didn’t understand. he brought you a bunch of baked goods from a bakery

you just didn’t know he had laced them before coming upstairs

you had grown to not know whether or not you were being drugged. you got used to the taste

usually he never lets you have anything nice to eat. all you ever got was enough to keep you alive

you hadn’t even noticed when you blacked out

your eyes open slowly, your arms still above your head hanging. you look around, still in the attic. you hear footsteps and tense again

but the face that appears isn’t the man who causes you pain. it’s the one who made you feel love

joe..

he looks over, face a mask of horror “oh my god-y/n” he gasps, stumbling back

you’re hanging there like a piece of meat, arms tied above your head against the beam, feet barely touching the ground, completely numb

he hurries over, big hands cupping your cheeks “what happened to you?” he whispers, wiping your tears

his face was a mix of devastation and relief. you couldn't speak through the muzzle, just looked up at him, trembling and eyes wet with fresh tears

"hey, hey it’s okay. 'm here, i'm here. we’re going to get you out" he promises, hands trembling as he reaches above you, looking for a way to get you down

“just-just hang on, okay? i’m gonna get you down” his hands fiddle with the metal, snapping the rusty lock

he breaks the chain, catching you. he slowly lowers to the floor, cradling you “i’ve got you, i’ve got you” he whispers, holding you close and cradling you

you cling to him, feeling the freedom. his hands slowly start to get colder, and his grip loosens. you look up and suddenly everything goes dark

your eyes snap open and you look around frantically. no.. no, no no no! “hey, i’m talking to you bitch” isaiah spits, snapping you back to reality

“you were whining that poor boys name. do you miss your little friend?” his tone is mocking “well i don’t care. you’re mine now, not his”

tears stream down your face and he tsks

“such a poor thing" he whispers, stroking your cheek above the muzzle "my sweet, sweet mourning lamb" he pulls away, looking you over

he slaps you across the face “pathetic” he spits

when he hits, it hurts. you had been subject to abuse occasionally growing up, but nothing like him

he uses all his strength, big hard punches straight to the fact, stomach, anywhere

but nothing was as bad as the torture. and he tightens the restraints, grabbing a metal pole, and starting it again anyway

when your head falls forward, his pole hits your wrists. you yelp in pain, then gasp when you feel the chains weaken. you yank them, the rusty metal falling to the floor

you put all your effort in and slam them into him, making him groan and stumble back

you gasp as you yank yourself free. thank god the chain was rusty. you turn and run down the stairs, stumbling from the pain. you pull on the door desperate to get it open. you hear him groan and stand up. you grab a piece of wood and smash the window open

you climb out, falling to the ground. you push yourself back up, running down the porch. the sound of the door opening and closing echoes in your ear, along with the sound of him chasing you

you push to run despite the horrid burn in your body. you couldn't die, you couldn't let him kill you

you turn to see where he is, he's getting closer, you need to keep going, keep pushing just a little-

thump

you fall to the ground with a thud as you trip over a pile of rocks. no no no. you drag yourself back up, but he's so close now. you're slower now, your legs burning with a whole new pain

he grabs you in a headlock, cutting off your air

you let out the loudest scream you could manage "stop!" your scream echoes through the forest, but no one hears it. he drags you back to the house

he pulls you to the basement instead, tossing you on the ground

he grabs the chains, tightening them and tying it around your neck

“get on your knees” he snaps, and you stumble to your knees despite the pain

“you know what you are? you’re a filthy slut. my dirty pet. an animal. you know what happens to animals when they misbehave?” he growls, tugging the chain

“t-they get punished” you whimper in pain “that’s right. and what are you?”

“a-an animal” you choke out. he grabs a muzzle, tying it around your mouth “much better”

“now, since you’re an animal, you’ll sleep like one” he drags you to a wire cage and forces you in, tying the chain to a wall and locking the cage

he walks up the stairs, turning the light off and leaving you alone in the cold dark cage, trembling in pain

he walks downstairs the next morning, kneeling in front of the cage. he unlocks it, pulling you out

"stand up" he demands sharply. you struggle to stand up, making him lt out a mocking laugh "pathetic little thing. cant even stand up

he drags you up, yanking you towards the wall and tying your wrists to the chains on the wall

“i should’ve killed you years ago. fucking you dead would’ve been much nicer”

he grabs his ring and a lighter. he slowly flicks it on, keeping eye contact with you as he heats it slowly

“you think you can run away from me?” he sets the lighter down, slowly stepping forward and grabbing your arm. he pushes your sleeve up and hivers the metal over your arm

“this is what happens when you try to run” he presses it hard and you scream in pain as he holds it there. you sob, but he’s holding you down firmly

he pulls it off, looking at the raw skin. he reaches into the bag he keeps in the corner

you pour all your strength into one hard kick. he falls forward, straight into a beam, knocking him right on the nose and he blacks out. you knew you didn’t have much time

you yank on the chains. you yank and yank until they snap off the board

you fell to the floor, coughing and hacking. your whole body ached, protesting with each movement. you groan as you push yourself up, stumbling to the stairs

the restraints on your arms and ankles slow you down, but you force any energy you have into getting out

you climb up the stairs, gripping the railing. you nearly fall down them, reaching the door. you push it open and climb out

you stumble to the front door. the window you had broken during your last attempt to escape had been fixed. fuck

you look around frantically, spotting an axe. you grab it, smashing the glass, shards flying. you climb out of the window, falling to the ground with a broken groan as you land in glass

you grip the support beams, pulling yourself up. you think of joe, and you force all your energy into running. and that’s what you do

the first few steps are utter torture, but you force your legs to move

you run through the woods, not knowing where you’re headed. every step is more and more exhausting, and you feel as though your body may give out at any moment

you fall on your hands and knees, sobbing in pain. the chains dig into your skin, the collar nearly choking you and the muzzle making you feel silenced

you try to crawl, desperate. you claw at the restraints. a foot comes flying down onto your back

you fall face first. your jaw smacks into a rock, and if it weren’t for the muzzle, you were sure it would have been broken

you try to push yourself back up, but the boot stays firm holding you down

you knew who it was

you knew the moment you looked up, you would see that face, and you would lose all hope

he doesn’t give you a choice

he grips your shoulder, lifting his boot so he can flip you over. he towers over you, staring down at you with pure rage and hatred

he pushes his boot on your chest, enough to make you struggle for air. he kneels, straddling you

he doesn’t mutter a single word. he doesn’t have to. because you already know what he’s going to do

he takes his big hands, wrapping them around your neck. his weight pins your body to the ground, and all you can do is gasp weakly and claw at his arms

your nails dig into his skin over and over but he doesn’t care. he lifts you by your neck slightly, watching you struggle to breathe

you stare up at him with wide panicked eyes, tears streaming down your face as you struggle for air

you feel reality slipping away. but it was real this time. he wasn’t just doing another threat or scare like he used to

you were actually dying

your life was playing in your head. you had born into a life without love. you had built love with joe, and then you had fallen for a man you met, and now you were going to die without love

you choke, eyes watering as you feel consciousness slipping away slowly. your eyelids flutter, your grips getting weaker

suddenly, he loosens his grip. he yanks you up, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. he starts walking, heading straight to his truck

you can't fight. you're torn between screaming and staying frozen in fear. he opens the passenger door, tossing you in roughly and slamming it

he walks around, climbing into the driver's side. he starts the car, immediately slamming on the gas. you sat in the seat, head lolling, half conscious. every time you move, he pushes your head against the window

he pulls over near a big shop. he gets out, walking around and yanking your door open

he yanks the hoodie on you, pulling you out. you stumble, unable to fight back

he walks inside the store with a tight grip on you. he walks around, grabbing rope, a knife, and a gun

you keep your head down as you wait in the line. he sets the items on the belt. the woman at the register kept giving you concerned looks,but didn't say anything

until she saw a glimpse of your face when Isaiah yanked you with him. you were clearly out of it, your face was bruised and battered. but the main thing she noticed was who you were

you had been all over the news. and she could tell you weren't safe. so she grabbed her phone and immediately dialed 911, frantic to get a hold of someone before you got too far

he shoves you back in his car, throwing the stuff in your lap and climbs into the drivers seat

he turns the key, revving the engine before taking off once again "did you make any faces at that woman?" he grits out. you frantically shake your head through your drugged state

he throws his fist into your head making you hit the window again. he grips the wheel tightly as he speeds down the highway

he grabs the collar, tightening it around your neck again and fastening the muzzle

you struggle to breathe through the tight hold as he holds it around your neck tightly, choking and coughing

and just as your vision is about to go black, the sound of sirens near. he lets go to look behind him, multiple police cars behind him

he turns back to face the road, slamming on the brakes seeing more in front of him. your head falls straight into the dashboard, groaning

police officers climb out of the cars, guns raised and walk slowly "get out of the car with your hands in the air"

he hesitates, weighing out his options. he slowly steps out of the car, hands up

"on the ground!" another officer commands. you watch him kneel, his sharp eyes refusing to break eye contact

two officers immediately grab him. a male officer grabs both his arms, yanking them behind his back

you barely process what's going on. your mind is spinning. you can hear the officers speaking to him faintly, slumped in the car

"you have the right to remain silent. anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law" court of law?

"you have the right to an attorney. if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you"

all you can hear is Isaiah arguing with the cops and them yelling at him to cooperate. you stumble out of the car, falling to the ground

one of the officers approaches you slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal

“gomez, go grab something to get these chains off” the officer commands another, who quickly rushed to the police cars. you curl into yourself, suddenly terrified

“it’s okay, we’re not gonna hurt you” the officer assures you, but you don’t believe it

your looking around frantically for an escape, though you knew you wouldn't be able to get up. you were too weak

a red haired woman steps out “hey..i promise. we just want to help” she kneels next to you. you flinch. the second officer rushes over with two more officers, some pliers and chain cutters

officer gomez carefully kneels, trying to help take the restraints off. you curl into yourself

“it’s okay, i promise. we won’t hurt you” the red haired woman says. a man approached slowly as well, speaking with a british accent “we’re joes friends” you freeze. joes friends?

the redhead nods, agreeing with the man “i’m sadie. that’s charlie. we just want to help” she promises. you look between her and the cop, still scared

should you trust them? what if you were just imagining it? and then you hear a voice. frantic, shouting, trembling. familiar. the voice is deeper than you remember, but impossible to miss

that’s joe

it’s really him. you look up and he’s running over to the scene. and he nearly stops breathing when he sees you

you looked so broken. dressed in an off white dress that was covered in dirt and slight spots of your blood. scars on your body, bruises along with them

you were trembling, wrists and ankles stuck to chains, a metal collar on your neck, and some sort of muzzle still caught on your face. you looked so scared, so traumatized

he almost broke down. the love of his life was finally in front of him after fifteen years. and somehow, you looked even worse than his nightmare, yet you were still the beautiful woman he loved

he slowly walked towards you, watching your wide doe eyes follow his every move “y/n..?” his voice cracks, seeing tears fall down your face. sadie steps aside

he slowly kneels next to you. you flinch, but not away. just habit “i’m here..i’m here, just let the officers help you please” he begs

you hesitate, still terrified and processing the situation. you were caught between refusing, still scared, and letting them free you

on one hand, this was finally your chance to be free, fully escape. but you also had the fear stuck in your mind, terrified to let anyone touch you

“i promise you, they are not going to hurt you” he tried to coax you into letting the officers help, desperate to make you safe

after almost fifteen minutes, the desperation for freedom won

you slowly nod, making everyone sigh in relief. the officer slowly knees beside you, carefully working to clip the muzzle. you tense at any contact

she works gently, avoiding any contact of the tool with skin. a sharp creak noise echoes and the restriction falls from your face, the other officer quickly grabbing it before it falls onto your lap

multiple officers are standing near, hiding view of you from all the reporters and people nearby

your jaw is red and sore. next comes the collar, freeing your neck. the skin is red and raw, and the feeling of nothing on it feels ten times better than you imagined

two officers work on the chains every so carefully. joe sits next to you the whole time, hand hovering over your back, scared to touch you and startle you

the moment every restraint is off, it truly hits you

you were free

the sounds of sirens approaching is heard as an ambulance nears. you tense “hey, hey it’s okay. i’m right here” joe assures you again

paramedics rush over, carrying a stretcher. after some convincing, they manage to get you on the stretcher. they had to lift you because you were so weak

it wasn’t difficult though. you were severely malnourished

they lift the stretcher into the ambulance as joe promises over and over that he’ll meet you at the hospital. the doors close, cutting him off

the sirens blare as the ambulance speeds off “y/n? honey, im going to give you some sedatives okay?” a female paramedic speaks softly

you stare at the ambulance ceiling, not responding. she carefully takes a needle, ever so gently sticking it in your arm and giving you the sedative

the last thing you hear before falling unconscious is the paramedics discussing your condition, worried

-joe-

he practically runs inside the hospital, looking around frantically. he rushes over to the receptionist while officers stand by the hospital doors

everyone knew that there would be news people here soon. celebrities frantically rushing to a hospital was bound to make a headline

the receptionist looks up, startled “can i help you sir?” she speaks gently “i’m here for y/n buxbaum”

her expression turns grim. the name was familiar from the paramedics rushing you in just minutes before

“ms. buxbaum is currently being examined. are you family?” she asks. he hesitates “i’m..her best friend.. i’m all she has” his tone is pleading. she nods, typing a few things in her computer

“the doctor will let you know once she’s able to have visitors. for now, you’re welcome to wait over there” she motions to the waiting room, giving him a sympathy look

he nods, walking over and slumping in a chair, leg bouncing with his lower lip in between his teeth

a few moments later, charlie and sadie are hurrying in “is she okay?” they ask him, worried. joe rests his head in his hands “i don’t know”

they sit next to him, charlie resting his hand on joes back “she’s gonna be okay man” he assures joe

all the overwhelming emotions wash over him, and he breaks down into sobs, processing everything. charlie stays by him comforting him

the wait feels excruciating. his phone constantly blows up with messages from his friends asking if you’re alright

charlie offers him a coffee, jod barely acknowledging it. eventually he takes it and sips it, though his eyes are stuck on the hallway doors

a doctor steps out, exhausted but relieved “family of ms. buxbaum?” he speaks, making joes head snap up. he’s over in an instant

“yes, yes that’s me” joe nods, frantic for any update “she’s stable. she was very malnourished and injured. we’ll need to keep her here for a little while” the doctor explains

“how long?” joe asks “could be weeks, could be months. it depends on her willingness. patients like this often refuse to let doctors and nurses touch them or help them” the doctor explains

“what do you mean? patients like what?” joe asks almost reluctantly, terrified of the answer “victims of domestic and.. sexual violence”

the words make everything in his world stop, and joe thinks he might pass out for a moment. he had been refusing to consider that possibility the whole time he was waiting

the state he saw you in, he didn’t want to believe it was true “c-can i see her?” his voice is a broken whisper

the doctor nods professionally, though he gives a sympathetic look, similar to the nurses earlier “yes. but she’s still unconscious”

joe he nods, following as the doctor leads him to your hospital room. the sight of you laying on the bed, pale and unconscious makes his heart ache even more if possible

he walks over to the bed, pulling a chair up and sitting down next to it

you looked older now. of course you did, it had been almost fifteen years. but he would always be able to recognize you. your hair, once soft and beautiful, now tangled and rough.

he makes a mental note to buy you some shampoo and conditioner. you had always loved when he would brush your hair when you two were younger

you had always thought he was just naturally good at it. you didn’t know that he had spent hours asking his mom and sisters to teach him how to braid hair

he remembers when kids used to make fun of you for having messy hair when you were younger. he would always tell them to back off and he always felt so bad because it made you cry

he knew you didn’t have anyone to take care of you the way his family always took care of him. and so he had promised himself he would always take care of you

the guilt had eaten him alive the years you were missing. of course, he had an amazing life going

he had pursued his singing career and started acting. he joined a band, and he auditioned for stranger things, landing one of the main roles in a hit tv series

he started making his own music with a new band and became known as a famous artist too. he was living an amazing life, but he never stopped thinking of you

the best thing that could ever happen was to live that life with you. and now he finally had you back after so long

but he wondered if you would still want him. if you still loved him. after all these years, after all that's happened

but he knew that in the end, he didn’t care if you loved him again. even if all you wanted now was to be his friend, he would do anything just to have you back in his life, even if that meant you only being his best friend. you were his everything

he knew that the most important thing right now was helping you heal. he had no idea what had happened to you, but he knew it wasn’t good, and he knew you would be struggling

he was determined to make sure you got everything you needed. he was going to take care of you, just like he promised years ago

he knew you were going to need all the support he could give you

especially because there were already headlines. and he knew they would only get so much worse as time went by. and he knew this would be serious. whether you wanted to go to court or not, he knew you there would be a trial

he knew it would be hard. because that’s how courts were. and he knew the way lawyers would be, and he knew you were going to have to relive all the pain you went through

and he knew he was going to have to hear every single thing. and as much as that pained him, he knew he had to be there to support you

and if there was anything else he knew, he knew your parents were going to show up. and that? that would be one of the worst parts of this

and he wasn't going to leave you alone again. never, ever again

a/n✄ could you tell I have a problem with toxic relationships. did i cry multiple times writing this? yes. am i just a sensitive person? also yes. i literally crashed out trying to write this properly . i may have gone insane with this one i fear

taglist✄

@sexyvixen7 @miahslt91 @socutea @toocoolforyouhey @delightfuldreamer09 @swimgoodglory @basssulaaa @hermionelaufeyson @djoaholic @sillirabbit0-0 @ilovest3veh4rr1ngt0n @laraabarett

go here to be added to my taglist!