~Dani~

When I pulled up to my apartment after Beca had fallen asleep, I tried to tell myself I'd done the right thing. In the end she'd seemed happy that I'd been there to take her home, and at least for the moments I'd been with her, she was safe. I knew the lingering feeling of her lips against mine and her body curled against my chest would make leaving her to Brian's wrath ten times harder, but it was what she wanted. I didn't have it in me to betray Beca's trust.

She might've done it to me, but I had absolutely no desire to hurt her in retaliation.

Brian had hurt her enough.

As I watched the days continue to pass, I realized I'd never been more confused and the confusion wasn't going away. It seemed like there was no right thing to do, so I was stuck. I couldn't do anything about Beca's situation unless I wanted to make her hate me for sending her back into the system. I still wasn't sure why going back, just for a few months, was a worse idea than being abused with a broken beer bottle, but it wasn't my call. It was hers.

A week must've passed before we even muttered a single word to each other again. Christmas was approaching rapidly which meant that the day my mom had died would be too. This would make three years, yet it still hadn't gotten any easier to deal with. Adding the sadness I felt because of Beca leaving on top of the anniversary of my mom's death did not make for a good combination. In fact, it made for a really, really, really bad combination.

When Taylor approached me that Monday, I was convinced everything with Beca would become much worse. I was drawing from prior experience because the last time we had been alone together certainly hadn't ended on good terms. He approached me right before seventh period, a class period that I didn't actually have any students to teach, and asked me to watch over the students in gym because the teacher wasn't feeling great.

I hadn't minded until I started taking attendance and I realized that Beca had gym during seventh. I tried not to pay much attention to her as all of the students scurried off to their respective activities. But when she coincidentally didn't show up to the activity that I was supervising, I knew I had to start paying attention because she was my responsibility.

I asked another teacher to watch the class I was supposed to be watching. I must've spent twenty or so minutes looking for her when I decided to look under the bleachers even though I doubted she would be under there. I had no idea why she would be under there.

But she was.

She lied there on the floor, her eyes closed. I must have made a noise because she opened them and looked to her right, staring at me before turning to stare at the bleachers. I sighed, "Beca, what are you doing?"

She didn't answer me. I was too tall to fit comfortably underneath the bleachers but I squeezed into the small space anyway, lying down next to her. She turned to me, "What are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out why you're lying down underneath the bleachers."

"Because it hurts to move, okay? I don't want to have to explain to my gym teacher why I'm wincing as I run."

I frowned. "I'm your gym teacher."

"What?"

"Never mind," I muttered. Neither of us spoke for a while. We both lied there, staring up at the bleachers, both too nervous to say anything else to one another.

Eventually, she whispered, "Dani."

I tilted my head slightly and met her eyes, staying quiet. She sighed. "I know you're still mad. I need you to know that the only reason I left in the middle of the night is because if I had waited until morning when you and Izzy were awake, I wouldn't have been able to leave. And you know I needed to leave."

"You didn't need to leave. Not permanently."

"Yes, I did," she said, looking at me. She didn't even think before lifting up her shirt and pointing to the cut in her stomach that had started to scab over. "This can never happen to Izzy. Or you for that matter." She paused, looking down. "Especially not you."

"It's no better that it happen to you, Beca."

"Yes it is," she said softly. "Brian is my adoptive father and therefore my problem, not yours."

I eyed her hard and though I disagreed, I knew there was nothing I could say to get her to change her mind. I wanted her to just be selfish for once instead of thinking about me. Was that so much to ask? For her to think of herself every once and a while?

She spoke, "The 24th is coming up."

I sighed, nodding. "I know."

"Are you going to be okay?

"I'll be fine. I'll be with my family." Beca eyed me, letting me know she was thinking exactly what I was thinking. I elaborated, "Excluding David."

She nodded slowly and we fell into silence again. She lied there next to me, though she hadn't pulled her shirt back down and I couldn't help but stare at the cuts on her stomach. My hatred for Brian was growing deeper and deeper every day. There was absolutely nothing that Beca could've ever done to deserve this. Nothing. I mindlessly sat up slightly and reached over, looking down at her and letting my thumb brush over the biggest cut in her stomach. "How deep is it?"

She closed her eyes. "Deep." I continued to trail my hand across her stomach until she suddenly grabbed my hand and shook her head. "Please," she said, her voice desperate. "Don't touch me."

Hurt flashed through my eyes involuntarily and she shook her head. "No no, Dani, don't do that. Trust me.. I... want you to touch me." She paused and smirked a little bit. "A lot more than you just were, if I'm being honest. But doing that makes this so much more difficult."

"Oh."

She sighed, "Do you even understand how hard it is for me to be away from you? You and Izzy are the only two people in this world that make me feel like I have a reason to be here." My features softened and my heart melted. She spoke again, frowning. "Now Brian's taken that away from me too."

"Hey," I whispered, shaking my head. "You listen to me, okay? Brian is a problem now, but you're going to turn eighteen soon and then he won't be in your life if you don't want him to be. You're going to make good friends and live a happy life, and when you're old you're going to think back to this day and realize that you have so many reasons to be here. You'll get through this, Beca, you're strong-"

"I'm not," she cut me off, looking down. "I'm not. I'm weak."

"No," I said, my voice sharp. "You are strong. The fact that you've dealt with everything that you have and are still smiling, still laughing, even if it's rare, says something. When is your birthday?"

She looked up at me. "March 26th."

I let out a breath of air. "Okay, alright, you have three more months. Three more months with him, that's it, and then you have the rest of your life without him."

She smiled a little bit. "That sounds like a good life."

"I'm glad you think so." I smiled back. "Just do me a favor?"

"What's that?"

"Hold on a little bit longer."

****

That week passed, as did Christmas and most of winter break. I expected to be left in the dark about what was going on with Beca inside Brian's house because I knew I wouldn't see her for a while, but she had texted me on Christmas Eve to see how I was doing. The gesture seemed sweeter to me than it probably was. To me, it meant she didn't plan on just pretending like she didn't know me now that she was living in her house again.

That made me happy.

I had no idea what was going to happen between us when she turned eighteen and graduated. I wanted to be in her life but I didn't know if she wanted me to be in hers after everything that had happened with Brian.

I could only hope that even if we didn't try to figure out our weird relationship in the future, we could actually be friends. I wanted to know where her life would go after she moved out of Brian's house. I really did, and I was happy that I could admit that to myself.

It was the Tuesday before winter break ended that I saw Beca again. I was shopping for groceries per usual and I figured she would be around, so I had planned to find her and say hi. I admittedly missed her, probably too much for my own good. I missed her smile and her voice. Honestly, I missed her sleeping next to me.

I finished grocery shopping before I ran into Beca, and I honestly didn't even know if she was working so I made my way to the register to pay. It was at the time that the cashier had most of my things in bags and I was getting ready to pay that I caught Beca's eye. She was near the exit with Brian's hand wrapped around her wrist. He was dragging her towards the door when she looked at me with a look of completely transparency; I could tell she was done. There was defeat in her eyes as well as fear and it worried me.

I hastily payed and grabbed my bags, rushing out the door after the two. I looked to find Brian's mustang, but when I did, it was empty. The two weren't in the parking lot, which confused me to no end. I looked around, my heart beating rapidly because I was nervous. It seemed Brian had gotten worse since September and I didn't know what he was capable of now.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed after Beca had left the store when I thought to look on each side of the building. The left was vacant, but the right side was a jackpot. I dropped my bags and rushed around the corner when I heard grunting noises. I saw Brian on the ground, groaning and holding his face. Beca was on the ground as well, only her body was pressed against the wall and her eyes were closed. My heart immediately jumped and I rushed to her side, not knowing what to think.

Thankfully, she opened her eyes and I let out a breath of relief. The look on her face was heartbreaking and I wanted to kneel down, pick her up, and bring her home, but I was very aware of the fact that Brian was beginning to get up to the right of her. I marched past her and didn't think before connecting my fist with Brian's face, sending him flat on his ass. He didn't look like he planned on getting up so I walked back to Beca's side to see that her shirt was a dark red color, and I knew it wasn't supposed to be.

I widened my eyes and fell to my knees beside her, my hand shaking as it reached out to her. She gave me a half hearted smile. "I fought back," she whispered.

I didn't have time to find anything as amusing as she seemed to. "Beca...." I looked at her hands which were stained red too and I had never felt more helpless. "Why is there blood? Where are you hurt?"

She waved me off, still not able to think about her health when she was sitting there, on the ground, bleeding. "The scab fell off. It's okay." She winced slightly. "I'm fine."

I was about to speak but she gave me a look that silenced me. Her attitude had shifted in less than a second and she seemed broken now. She whispered, "Take me home with you... please."

I didn't waste time. I helped her up and held my hand to her stomach as a failed attempt to stop the bleeding. I had originally been worried that Brian had done something really bad, but I knew she wasn't lying about why she was bleeding and I was sure that she'd be fine. I could only think about getting her back to my apartment. Eventually I got her inside, setting her down on the couch and wetting a cloth almost immediately to wash away the blood.

She smiled, touching my face. "You're cute when you play nurse." She paused, a mischievous smirk appearing on her face. "Have I said that before?"

I tried to smile for her. "You think I'm cute when I play aunt too."

"Oh yeah."

My mind was racing at a million miles per second as I washed the blood out of the cloth. I lifted the bloody shirt she had on over her head and pressed the cloth to her stomach again, closing my eyes and letting out a breath of air. "It's okay," she whispered. "I'm okay."

"Tell that to your bloody stomach," I muttered. Eventually, the bleeding stopped and I put a bandage over it. It was pretty deep and she could've probably used a stitch or two, but something told me she wasn't going to agree to going to the hospital. They'd ask her how she got the cut and she'd either have to lie or tell them that she'd been stabbed by broken glass, which definitely wouldn't go over well.

But then she suddenly spoke up and said something that completely contradicted my thoughts. She whispered, "I need you to take me to the police station."

I furrowed my eyebrows, lifting my body to sit down on the edge of the couch next to her. "Okay.... why?"

She let out a breath of air, pressing two fingers to her bandage and looking up at me. The look in her eyes had shifted once again. She was angry.

"I want to make a statement."