A/n: I actually meant to update this last night but i was too busy crying over fall out boy and patrick stump.
As always thank you to Anushka for the prompt that started all this.
Thank you to Sam for editing my shit at 1am bc I can't spell
anD THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO HAS TAKEN TIME TO READ THIS I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH OKAY?
PLEASE please please give me some feedback. I live for feedback. Constructive critisisms, comments, things that don't make sense. Literally anything.
Thank you all so much
-sh
It was a long time before Scarlett emerged from the shower. She'd scrubbed herself down with the bar of vanilla soap she'd found, but she still felt dirty. She'd also found some shampoo that smelled overwhelmingly of lilac. When she stepped out of the shower, she wrapped herself in the towels that had been under the strange looking sink. The towels were unbelievably soft against her skin.
She peeked out the bathroom door to make sure she was alone before stepping into the bedroom. She dropped her towel and slipped quickly into her own undergarments, which were miraculously not as dirty as the rest of her clothes. Roger had left clothes lying neatly folded on the edge of the bed. She studied them skeptically before putting them on. He'd set out a nearly skin tight pair of jeans and a flowy dark green silk top with spaghetti straps for sleeves. She sighed. She could try to find something to cover her bruised arms with later. She was pleasantly surprised by how well the clothes fit. She wondered where Roger had gotten them.
She returned to the bathroom, and after rooting around in some drawers, she managed to produce a brush. She ran it through her damp hair slowly, taking comfort in the familiar action. She was shocked by how smooth the shampoo had left her hair. Maybe the figure did have a few good things in store.
When she was satisfied with her reflection, she decided to return downstairs to make sure Damon was okay. As she was in the hallway, the photographs lining the wall caught her eye. Stepping closer, she was surprised to spot a younger looking Roger among a few of them. In one, he was laughing with a sandy haired boy with green eyes. A girl with similar features glared at them from the background, looking annoyed.
Another picture showed the younger Roger surrounded by people with the same brown hair and blue eyes. Scarlett noticed the slight variations among his parents. His mother's eyes were almost green, and his father's hair was so dark that it could be mistaken for black.
Their children, on the other hand, all had the same basic features. Besides Roger, there were two other children in the picture. All three were smiling. Scarlett couldn't say for sure how old any of them were. On Roger's right there was a boy who appeared to be around Damon's age. On Roger's other side there was a girl who couldn't have been more than sixteen, Scarlett's own age. She was laughing, her hand covering her mouth.
"Scarlett!"
Scarlett jumped at Damon's voice. She had thought he would still be asleep.
"Scarlett!" he exclaimed again, running down the hallway towards her. Scarlett felt her heart squeeze. Poor Damon. He'd been through so much. The constant nightmares, their father's drunken rampages, and now this. Scarlett leaned down as he came towards her, and folded him into her arms.
After a minute, Damon began to squirm in her embrace. She let him go and examined his face. He didn't appear to be hurt or even scared. He just looked tired. His gray eyes were underlined with dark bruises, and he was paler than usual.
Damon's eyes widened as they fell on Scarlett's bare arms. She cursed herself silently for not finding something to cover the bruises.
"Did daddy do that?" Damon asked.
"It's okay, Damon, it's fine. I'm fine," Scarlett reassured him. The last thing she wanted was for him to start crying again. She took his small face in her hands.
"It's okay," she promised, stroking his cheek gently, "We're safe now. We're in good hands. Okay?"
Damon nodded. Scarlett released his face and took one of his hands.
"How about we go back downstairs. Did you talk to Roger? Did he explain everything?"
Damon shook his head. "He didn't have to. My new friend told me what happened. She's downstairs, too. So is another boy. I don't think he likes Roger very much."
"What?" Scarlett asked. She didn't think she'd taken that long in the shower.
"Come on!" Damon said, pulling her down the stairs. When they emerged into the den, Scarlett saw what he had been talking about.
Roger was there, and as always, Scarlett's heart skipped a beat when she saw him. She knew it was stupid. He'd been using her the entire time, but Scarlett was still hopelessly in love. Roger was leaning over the couch, looking at something.
Scarlett couldn't see what; the back of the couch was blocking her view. She could see the other boy that Damon had mentioned. He stood an inch or two taller than Roger. Scarlett was surprised to recognize his dark blonde hair and green eyes. He was the boy from the photograph. Roger and the boy had been laughing then. They weren't now.
They both wore dark expressions as they studied whatever was on the couch.
The new boy noticed Scarlett and Damon first. His eyes traced them without much interest. Scarlett resisted the urge to cover her arms, which would have been impossible anyways. Damon was still holding her hand.
Roger looked up a moment later as Damon pulled Scarlett to the couch. Roger gave them a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Who's this?" The blonde boy asked, his attention still focused on the couch, which Scarlett could now see was taken up by a sleeping girl.
"Scarlett Cass. Damon's sister." Roger answered before Scarlett had a chance to.
"I'm James," he said, sounding bored. "that's Meghan." He pointed to the girl on the couch. "Now that we've got all these pesky introductions out of the way, we need to talk about these kids."
James finally looked away from Meghan. His eyes fell on Scarlett's arms, and Scarlett felt her face flush. Thankfully, he didn't say anything.
"What are you getting at?" Roger asked, looking at James warily. Scarlett could see from the tight set of Roger's jaw that he was far from comfortable.
"There's no way that we're both here by coincidence," James stated, as if it should be obvious to everyone. "Someone planned this, and that means that we all have a lot to talk about."
He went into the kitchen before anyone had a chance to respond. He rummaged around in the pantry and the fridge, pulling out an array of items and setting them on the counter. When he seemed to be done, he turned and faced the trio still surrounding the couch.
"Anyone hungry?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
They nodded.
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