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i think ptolomaea by ethel cain is one of the most brilliantly crafted songs iâve ever listened to.
the way it opens with this distorted deeper voice (isaiah) and you hear the sound of flies buzzing in the background underneath the voice, thats such a cool detail. and while isaiah is singing, you hear ethel incoherently mumble (you literally hear her say âmama?â its so đđ) as sheâs waking up from the drugs. when we finally hear her voice, itâs high pitched, raw, and vulnerable. because of how vulnerable of a situation she is in, but she doesnât realize it yet because of the drugs sheâs on. so this whole beginning is echoey and it captures the whole aloneness sheâs feeling.
and then we get a beat drop at âeven the iron still fears the rot,â where the instrumentals are a little heavier, her voice is still high and raw but thereâs a sense of knowing in it. (âhiding from something, i cannot stop. walking on shadows, i cant lead him backâ) as her hallucinations and the drugs start to wear off, sheâs facing this darkness thatâs been eating away at her with âdaddyâs left and mama wonât come home,â which is something she rarely comes to terms with.
then we get that dark distorted voice again saying âyou poor thing, sweet morning lamb. thereâs nothing you can do, itâs already been done,â which is incredibly terrifying. not to mention that deafening crash of the drums, god the way those drums thunder so intensely like you can feel the dread in your bones. and then we hear ethelâs voice again saying âwhat fear a man like you brings upon a woman like me? please dont look at me..â which refers to when isaiah tells her to âshow me your face,â during that line. and sheâs pleading for him to stop looking at him, you canât hear it because itâs in the background but he says âcome here,â and right after you hear ethel say âi can see it in your eyes, tell me, what have you done?â which then goes into a sea of begs and pleas for him to âstop, stopâ until the final âstopâ is not sung, but instead a bone chilling shrill shriek. which is cut off by âi am the face of loveâs rage.â and if you listen to the acapella, during âi am the face of loveâs rage,â right underneath that main vocal, you hear a second high pitched scream, you hear bundles ânoâsâ and even a âno! please!â which i think ties the story really well together.
in the acapella, while âblessed be the daughters of cain,â is being read out, you can hear the gargling and choking noises as ethel is struggling to breathe and as sheâs literally dying its really sickening but so well executed from an artist perspective. and then at the very very end, you hear a death rattle like that is INSANE
i love ptolomaea, i love how the instrumentals create such a unique atmosphere that makes it as terrifying as it sounds and how hayden uses her voice in different ways to tell the story effectively. and it works, it all works.
ptolomaea is the best song on preacherâs daughter thank you for coming to my ted talk
summaryâ as you suffer through isaiahs abuse, you hallucinate and lose hope, failing every attempt to escape but joe never gives up
warningsâ mentions of torture, drugs, abuse, manipulation, mentions of forced sex work, swearing, allusions to sa, attempted murder, kidnapping, beating?, restraints, muzzle, cage, reader is referred to as an animal/being treated as one, fantasies of death, branding, mentions of suicide, threats, rape(not described, just mentioned), hallucinations, mentions of being underweight, readers skin is briefly described as pale, but not saying that is her overall skin tone, brief mention of reader liking books, probably badly proofread. please read warnings and notes before continuing. you have been warned, do not comment any hate. reminder that I'm not romanticizing any of these topics
wcâ 6.1k
notesâ this one may have been a little insane so HEAVY TRIGGER WARNING. please tell me if this is absolute trash and if its dark. the next chapters will hopefully be longer. idk if they have forests in atlana like this but pretend they do (also this kinda has lyrics from multiple songs in the album but the main theme is ptolemaea) also i was kinda like, researching his life so i could properly write this so i hope i donât sound like some news article ir something in a part of it (also it briefly mentions szn5 being postponed in this series because thatâs when it takes place)
preachers daughter masterlist
the attic was dark. your mind was hazy. your arms were chained against the support beam, and you had no idea what day it was. you guessed it was night considering it was dark out
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 youâve learned anything in your life, you canât 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, thatâs what he told you
and when you were in those motel rooms? it was like he was the only man you knew who wasnât 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 didnât 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 didnât sleep with him
didnât you want to make him happy?
and you fell for it. because you couldnât 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 werenât like the sleeping medication your mother would make you take when you were younger
they were so gross, so terrifying. you didnât want to do them, drugs were bad for you
but after a while, you gave in you didnât 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 doesnât even seem phased. he pulls you along as he strides in
thereâs 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
thereâs 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
âhey sweetheart, whatâs your name?â 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
âwhat a pretty little thingâ another man chuckles. one of them turns to isaiah âhow much?â
âhundred bucks per hourâ isaiah states
a man grabs a few bills, counting them and handing them over as if it was nothing
âhowâs a grand for five hours? iâll throw in a little as a tip for the pretty thingâ the man winks at you, knowing none of the actual money would he going to you
âdealâ 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 âw-whatâs going on?â your voice is shaky, your hands gripping the hanger in fear
âyou love me right?â he asks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. you nod and he smiles sickeningly
âgood. put this on and make those men happy just like you make meâ
he watches you put it on, your body trembling with fear. he guides you to step out slowly, watching as the men stare like youâre 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
âremember when you said you wanted to make happy?â 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
âitâs not my fault you care more about popularity than your best friend!â 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
âthatâs not true and you know it y/n!â he shouts back, running his fingers through his hair âthen why did you just ditch me the second you got popular!â
âi didnât! you separated yourself!â he exclaims and you purse your lips, knowing heâs right. he always is
âgod, this is why we didnât work out. you donât trust me. and you make everything ten times more dramatic than it needs to beâ he sighs
your stomach drops at his words, overthinking them immediately
âdonât look at me like thatâ he adds in an almost pleading tone, seeing the look of hurt and disappointment
âhow else am i supposed to look at you?â you snapped, trying to hide your sadness with anger
âi know this all is hard for you, but i canât be there for you if you yell at me every secondâ he tried to step forward- you step away
âfine, then donât be thereâ you spit and turn around, truly devastated with yourself as you walk away from your best friend
the one person whoâs 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 donât get punished. simple
so you definitely hadnât 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
âhey, i gotta run to the store, get upâ 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. itâs 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. itâs 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 ârewardingâ 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
âwhat do you say?â he tsks, as if he was speaking to a child. you look up at him, so fucking manipulated âthank you isaiahâ 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 didnât understand. he brought you a bunch of baked goods from a bakery
you just didnât 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 hadnât 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 isnât the man who causes you pain. itâs the one who made you feel love
joe..
he looks over, face a mask of horror âoh my god-y/nâ he gasps, stumbling back
youâre 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 âwhat happened to you?â 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 itâs okay. 'm here, i'm here. weâre going to get you out" he promises, hands trembling as he reaches above you, looking for a way to get you down
âjust-just hang on, okay? iâm gonna get you downâ his hands fiddle with the metal, snapping the rusty lock
he breaks the chain, catching you. he slowly lowers to the floor, cradling you âiâve got you, iâve got youâ 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! âhey, iâm talking to you bitchâ isaiah spits, snapping you back to reality
âyou were whining that poor boys name. do you miss your little friend?â his tone is mocking âwell i donât care. youâre mine now, not hisâ
tears stream down your face and he tsks
âsuch 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 âpatheticâ 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
âget on your kneesâ he snaps, and you stumble to your knees despite the pain
âyou know what you are? youâre a filthy slut. my dirty pet. an animal. you know what happens to animals when they misbehave?â he growls, tugging the chain
ât-they get punishedâ you whimper in pain âthatâs right. and what are you?â
âa-an animalâ you choke out. he grabs a muzzle, tying it around your mouth âmuch betterâ
ânow, since youâre an animal, youâll sleep like oneâ 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
âi shouldâve killed you years ago. fucking you dead wouldâve been much nicerâ
he grabs his ring and a lighter. he slowly flicks it on, keeping eye contact with you as he heats it slowly
âyou think you can run away from me?â he sets the lighter down, slowly stepping forward and grabbing your arm. he pushes your sleeve up and hivers the metal over your arm
âthis is what happens when you try to runâ he presses it hard and you scream in pain as he holds it there. you sob, but heâs 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 didnât 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 thatâs 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 youâre 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 werenât 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 doesnât 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 doesnât mutter a single word. he doesnât have to. because you already know what heâs 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 doesnât 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 wasnât 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
âgomez, go grab something to get these chains offâ the officer commands another, who quickly rushed to the police cars. you curl into yourself, suddenly terrified
âitâs okay, weâre not gonna hurt youâ the officer assures you, but you donât 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 âhey..i promise. we just want to helpâ 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
âitâs okay, i promise. we wonât hurt youâ the red haired woman says. a man approached slowly as well, speaking with a british accent âweâre joes friendsâ you freeze. joes friends?
the redhead nods, agreeing with the man âiâm sadie. thatâs charlie. we just want to helpâ 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
thatâs joe
itâs really him. you look up and heâs 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 ây/n..?â 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 âiâm here..iâm here, just let the officers help you pleaseâ 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
âi promise you, they are not going to hurt youâ 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 âhey, hey itâs okay. iâm right hereâ 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 wasnât difficult though. you were severely malnourished
they lift the stretcher into the ambulance as joe promises over and over that heâll meet you at the hospital. the doors close, cutting him off
the sirens blare as the ambulance speeds off ây/n? honey, im going to give you some sedatives okay?â 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 âcan i help you sir?â she speaks gently âiâm here for y/n buxbaumâ
her expression turns grim. the name was familiar from the paramedics rushing you in just minutes before
âms. buxbaum is currently being examined. are you family?â she asks. he hesitates âiâm..her best friend.. iâm all she hasâ his tone is pleading. she nods, typing a few things in her computer
âthe doctor will let you know once sheâs able to have visitors. for now, youâre welcome to wait over thereâ 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 âis she okay?â they ask him, worried. joe rests his head in his hands âi donât knowâ
they sit next to him, charlie resting his hand on joes back âsheâs gonna be okay manâ 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 youâre 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 âfamily of ms. buxbaum?â he speaks, making joes head snap up. heâs over in an instant
âyes, yes thatâs meâ joe nods, frantic for any update âsheâs stable. she was very malnourished and injured. weâll need to keep her here for a little whileâ the doctor explains
âhow long?â joe asks âcould be weeks, could be months. it depends on her willingness. patients like this often refuse to let doctors and nurses touch them or help themâ the doctor explains
âwhat do you mean? patients like what?â joe asks almost reluctantly, terrified of the answer âvictims of domestic and.. sexual violenceâ
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 didnât want to believe it was true âc-can i see her?â his voice is a broken whisper
the doctor nods professionally, though he gives a sympathetic look, similar to the nurses earlier âyes. but sheâs still unconsciousâ
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 didnât 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 didnât 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 didnât 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 wasnât 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 thatâs 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/nâ 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
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