backinthsaddle | Chapter One: The Meeting

His brother PINs in, but not with the groceries. He has in his arms this scrawny girl in a ripped (and much-stained ivory sweater), covered in fresh scars, and she smells like sweat and sand and blood, and her hair is midway down her back and matted and tangled beyond repair.

She's breathing really shallowly, every so often with a whimper, face pressed to Liam's shoulder. He brushes her hair back, tells her that it'll be okay now.

It takes him a moment to notice that he's not alone anymore, and he's already opening his mouth to say hello when he sees the two of them. ...what.

"Who is that? What happened?"

"Girl named Victor. I took her from an... acquaintance of mine."

A teary glance in Cole's direction, a shy hand traveling down to hold her sweater shut. "H-hi, sorry, I'm sorry."

"You don't have a reason to be sorry," Liam says, setting her down on an armchair, and she shudders hard, pulls her knees up to her chest.

"I'm all dirty, my shirt...."

"It's okay, kid. It's fine."

Cole is thoroughly unprepared for this and has no idea what to do. His homework forgotten, he lets the notebook fall to the floor as he stands to get the first aid kit. He doesn't know the extent of this new person's injuries, but she's clearly hurt.

"Eddie did a once-over on her," he says. "That's how I knew where she was." On closer inspection, her injuries are mostly superficial at this point. The blood all over her clothes is all that remains of her wounds. Well, those and the fresh pink scars. Eddie really can work miracles.

"I don't wanna bother you, but, ah, c-can I shower, please? I need to shower. If that's okay. Please."

"Sure. Yeah, sure, I'll get you some fresh clothes. The bathroom's right through there."

Victor gets up shakily to start limping over, and Liam scoops her up despite her protests and carries her to the bathroom.

Cole moves to follow, then realizes that she probably wants some privacy, and she has help, so he sits back down nervously. He keeps glancing back towards the bathroom, though.

Liam grabs clothes from his closet, a pretty flowered blouse and a pair of apple bottom jeans. No, he's not a crossdresser. He has girls over. A lot. Less now that he's seeing J, though. He holds a red bra in front of him, then a black one. "What do you think? Is she a B-cup or a C-cup?"

Cole's cheeks turn pink, uncomfortable with that idea entirely. "I wasn't looking."

"I'm going to let her choose." He strolls up to the bathroom door, slides it open, makes a show of covering his eyes and sliding the clothes through the door.

The shower is long. Very long. So long that she runs out of hot water. But eventually the water squeaks off, and she towels dry, leaving her hair dripping. She had tried to brush it, but a lot of hair came off in the brush, and she's thinking that tomorrow she's just going to get a haircut.

Victor doesn't look at anyone. Staring at her feet, in borrowed white socks. "Thank you."

Cole is going to interrogate his brother for details later, uncomfortable with asking in front of her. "Do you, uh, want anything to eat? Or drink?" he asks, feeling awkward about it.

"I, um. I don't want to bother you, I'll be okay." But she does look faint, and she hasn't been being fed, and she sits down right where she is on the floor because she's dizzy and she doesn't want to fall.

"I'll get you a sandwich." It's about all he knows how to make, or at least has the stuff to make on hand and has the least chances to go wrong, plus tiny prep time.

He shoots a pleading look at his brother to help him out a bit here. Not in the making of food, but handling their unexpected houseguest.

She wipes at her eyes with the heel of her palm. "He's just gonna get me again anyway."

"No, he won't. Never again." He crouches down next to her, keeping his distance.

"This is the third time," she murmurs, and her voice cracks, and her eyes well up fresh.

Liam's jaw clenches in that I-am-going-to-break-some-legs look that he gets every so often and trades glances with his brother.

Cole has no idea what she's talking about, and he's not sure he wants to know. He's putting together a sandwich as quickly as possible, just tossing on whatever they have, never mind what she might like or dislike. Meat, cheese, bread. And puts on the kettle for tea, thinking it might help calm her down.

In the meantime, Liam helps her to the couch. Her knees are shaky like a newborn colt with epilepsy.

He throws the sandwich on a plate and approaches, awkward, cautiously. "Here."

"Thank you. I'm sorry. Ah, I'm sorry. Sorry." She doesn't even know what she's sorry for at this point. She digs into the food like she hasn't eaten in days, which isn't really far off. She gulps down the sandwich way too fast, and it makes her throat hurt, and her chest hurt, and her stomach hurt, but it's maybe the best sandwich ever.

"I'm, um, also making tea." It seems like a stupid way to say it, but he honestly doesn't know what to do next, while he waits for the water to boil.

"T-thanks. 'S perfect. The best. Really, really good food. Thank you."

Her knees are back up to her chest, and whenever she looks at Cole or Liam it's a fleeting look and heaven forbid eye-contact happen because she looks away so fast she might give herself whiplash.

"It's just a sandwich..."

"It's a really good sandwich."

Cole looks helplessly at his brother, not wanting to argue otherwise.

Liam pulls him aside as Victor digests, already getting some more color to her face.

"I don't think he fed her," he says, voice low so Victor won't overhear. "I'm going to have her stay here for a while."

He thinks briefly about how they don't have the room, where will she sleep, surely they should find someone who knows and can take care of her. But he knows they can't just boot her out either, and wouldn't even consider that. "How long did he have her?"

"A week and a half. I think. I don't know the whole story."

On the couch, Victor is rubbing at the side of her face, at the site of that past-broken jaw. She covers up a yawn.

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