You And I Both Need Therapy But This Is Amazing

you and i both need therapy but this is amazing

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Same Time Thursday - Part 24

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masterlist

~ 4.5k words

CW: attempted sexual assault, references to sexual assault, lots of bad language, alcohol, violence

...I'm just going to go hide now

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If it was possible, the house got colder when she got to the first floor, like an icy wind pressing in on her as she walked toward the living room, to the one light beckoning her closer. Alarm bells went off in her head, but she kept her chin up, not running away like her body was begging her too.

Instead, she forced her feet to keep going, step after step toward the room, like she was a lonely star in the universe, sucked into an orbit around a black hole. He was that black hole, chewing her up and spitting her out, completely destroying everything that made her who she was.

At least Elia was safe.

Aelin shuddered a little bit, ice wrapping around her thinly clothed body. Goosebumps rose on her bare skin from the cold and the silence, the adrenaline racing through her body as she took step after step closer to the living room. And when she finally turned, crossing the open threshold into the spacious living room, with its low to the ground, sleek couches, the black, metal coffee table, the soft lighting that highlighted the man sitting opposite from where she stood, his leg crossed over his knee, his arm draped over the back of the couch, a glass of whiskey in his other hand, looking every bit the casual actor.

His eyes were on hers from the moment she stepped into the room, and he gestured casually to the chair opposite of him. “Come sit, darling,” he purred, “we have a lot to talk about.”

Aelin hesitated for a moment, but moved over to sit down, her ankles crossed like a lady, even if she was dressed like and looked like she was even younger than she already was. But there was a glass of whiskey on the table in front of her, an offering and an order, one she ignored.

The couch was plush beneath her body, but she didn’t lean into it, sitting up straight and staring forward toward him. She didn’t know what was going to happen, it was better to be on her guard.

“What do we have to talk about?” She asked primly, keeping her face calm. Arobynn just smirked lazily, tilting his head to the side, and a quick glance at the half empty bottle on the table proved just what she’d predicted. He was already drunk, or at least on his way to being drunk. Wariness struck her gut, and she eyed him carefully.

Drunk meant less inhibitions, meant he didn’t have the same standards for himself he normally did. But he still had the same physical force.

He could do whatever he wanted to her, and that range of possibilities had only widened. Her heart thumped painfully.

“Well,” he said, taking another sip of his glass of whiskey, “I just think we need to go over a few things here, don’t you think? A few… ground rules shall we say.”

Aelin lifted her chin a bit, asking, “and what would those be?” Her husband just chuckled humorlessly, gesturing to the cup in front of her.

“Why don’t you take a sip of your drink, first?” He prodded, still dancing around the subject in that smooth way of his. “We both know how much you like a good drink. And that’s the same kind of stuff you had the day we first met.”

At the funeral.

“That’s not the first time we met,” she said, a bit weakly, shaking her head once. He just shrugged, loose but fully in control of his movements.

“The first time you met me,” he amended, a dark but humorous expression on his face. A shudder crawled up her spine. They rarely ever spoke so frankly, and never about things like this. This was new. “That whiskey did never come out of that shirt, but no matter,” he dismissed, “I’m rich enough, aren’t I darling?”

“Money isn’t everything,” was her only response, her voice shaking slightly.

“Isn’t it?” Arobynn mused, raising his auburn brows at her. Hair so similar to her daughter’s it made her sick. “How does it feel to be without it? Your physique certainly shows it’s not ideal circumstances.”

Aelin pursed her lips. “You’ve starved me today, I see no difference.”

“Ah ah ah,” he chastised, shaking his head. He pointed at her with his glass. “Rule Number One: No complaining. I don’t want to hear it, she doesn’t want to hear it,” he pointed vaguely up the stairs, “no one wants to hear it.”

“I wouldn’t complain if you didn’t give me something to complain about,” she snapped without really thinking. But she managed to hold herself back from saying anything more. His smile turned even more sinister.

“You know, Fireheart,” he taunted, and she stiffened, “it really wounds me when you say things like that.” But then his face turned more serious, more believable, and the wariness inside of her rose. “I do love you, Aelin,” he added, his words softer. She couldn’t do anything but stare. “I don’t always show it the way I should, but I do.”

Aelin from three years ago would’ve melted at the words, she would’ve believed them, she would’ve fallen into his arms, pushing away every red flag in favor of a little bit of affection. She’d been looking for so long for someone to care for her.

But Aelin today already had that care from someone else. And even if she didn’t, she wasn’t buried so deeply in her own grief that she didn’t recognize what she deserved. And what she deserved was not this.

Yet, she just stared.

“Have a drink,” he repeated, sparing her from having to respond, and slowly her gaze dropped to the glass of whiskey on the table. Not for the first time, she wondered if it wasn’t just alcohol pooled up in there. If it had something else mixed in.

Even more reason not to touch it.

“No, thank you,” she said calmly, sitting up straight in a civilized manner. Arobynn just shrugged, taking another long sip of his own before leaning forward and snatching the bottle off the table, tipping it to fill up his glass again.

“You’re missing out,” he said blithely, his eyes leveled on hers in a startling manner of soberness.

“Am I?” She said quietly, almost underneath her breath, and those shark-like eyes narrowed.

“Rule number two,” he declared, his voice unwavering, “no little snarky comments anymore. This is a privilege to be here, and I won’t accept anything else. Understand?” His words left no room for questions, and she couldn’t do anything but agree.

“Yes,” Aelin said, ignoring the swarm of emotions inside of her. A fucking privilege? It was a punishment. Nothing more.

But soon enough, the emotions diminished again, back into numbness. None of this mattered, it didn’t affect her. She couldn’t feel enough to feel that this was wrong.

“Stand up,” Arobynn said, after a brief moment of silence, flicking upward with his hand too. She hesitated, her bottom lip wavering a bit, but she did as he said, moving to where he gestured for her to go: a little bit away from the couch, empty space all around her. He stood up too, and she kept her eyes trained on him as he took slow steps toward her.

He slowed to a stop right in front of her, only inches separating their bodies. Aelin had to look up to meet his eyes, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to. He’d left his drink on the table, so both of his hands were free as he set them on her arms, slowly dragging them up the bare skin of them, making her shudder.

They smoothed over her bare shoulders, to where her shoulders met her neck, to rest behind her neck. Her lips quivered even more, and she pursed them to try and stop it. His hands slipped under her hair, and after a moment, he pulled them back, holding something that made her pause.

Her necklace.

“Rule number three,” Arobynn said, in a deathly quiet, inches away from her face. “No mention of Rowan Whitethorn. Ever. Again. Do you understand me?” His breath was hot on her skin.

Aelin just stared up at him, unmoving. Her hands clenched into fists, venting the tension. The slap wasn’t surprising, but it still cracked across her face, the stinging feeling spreading across her cheek as she panted for air, breathing through clenched teeth to fight the pain.

“Do you understand?” He hissed, and she let her eyes fall shut, hating herself for the words that came out.

“Yes,” she said softly, “I understand.”

“Good,” the utter monster in front of her said simply, and she heard the clack of her necklace on the floor. And then he must’ve kicked it lazily, the sound of it skidding away from them reaching her ears. Like it was disposable, like it was a piece of garbage.

She’d only gotten it yesterday, and now it was gone.

The same hand that had just slapped her then caressed her cheek softly, and she cracked her eyes open blearily, frozen at the touch of his skin against hers. It was disgusting, but she didn’t move.

“I missed you,” he said quietly, leaning in to press a dry kiss to her other cheek. “I'm glad you’re home, it wasn’t the same here without you.” The hand on her cheek tucked a stray piece of hair softly behind her ear while his other rested gently on her waist.

It was a mockery of comforting movements, of comforting words. Instead of being soothed, Aelin was trembling.

“You drove me away,” she said in a whisper, trying to fight the way her body shuddered.

“Is that what you’re calling it?” He murmured into her ear, “the blame is always on me, hm?” Aelin stared at his shoulder, inches in front of her.

“Yes,” she breathed, her heart pounding in her chest. He paused, and her breaths were shallow as she waited for his response. Slowly, ever so slowly, he dragged his hand down from her cheek, latching onto her upper arm instead.

“I’m so tired of this, Aelin,” he said, shaking his head, “I’m so so tired of this. All I want is for us to go back to normal, and yet you keep - fighting.” With that word, he used his grip on her to throw her to the side, and she crashed to the ground, the wind getting knocked out of her lungs as she landed on her stomach.

She wheezed, her entire body stinging. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the pain in her ribs, her chest, her definitely broken nose, everywhere.

But she wasn’t allowed much reprieve before a hand gripped her shoulder, rolling her over onto her back. She pushed herself up on her elbows slightly. Her chest felt damp, and she knew without needing to think about it that she must’ve leaked through her nightgown, the impact on her already sensitive breasts pushing them past the limit. She was too dazed and bitter to care.

“Disgusting,” Arobynn spat as he knelt over her. Aelin just let out a humorless laugh.

“You did this to me, too,” she said, wanting to let her head fall back against the hard floor. She was just so tired. “It’s what happens when you get someone pregnant. It’s messy.” Aelin looked past his cruel face and that familiar curtain of hair, her eyes trailing up the staircase. She was laying just at the angle to look down the hallway where Elia's room was.

Where her daughter was. Hopefully sleeping soundly, unaware of where her mother was, what her mother was going through.

But Arobynn’s hand gripped her jaw, directing her face back to look at him. “But the process was oh so pleasurable, wasn’t it?” He had an arrogant look on his face, like he knew her answer and just didn’t fucking care.

Aelin didn’t know if she cared anymore either. Everything felt numb. Frozen. Heavy. Like she was a million pounds, and even dredging up the smallest amount of effort was like trying to carry the weight of the world.

“Are you asking if I enjoyed you raping me?” She managed to croak out though, her voice hoarse. And apathetic. Maybe she was provoking him, maybe not. Either way, she was sure he’d take out his frustration on her and not Elia. Which was all that really mattered.

Arobynn just chuckled darkly, before straining to reach something from around the couch. He returned with the bottle of whiskey, taking a swig of it himself before holding it toward her. She kept her mouth closed, but couldn’t fight it when he shoved the bottle at her lips, tilting it so the burning liquid spilled into her mouth and down her chin. She spluttered, the whiskey stinging her throat, but he kept pouring it, almost drowning her as she fought for a breath. It was an overpowering, fiery, hot sensation, and she felt tears dripping down her face from the sting of so much of it at once.

“Have a fucking drink,” he hissed, but she could barely register anything besides the flood of alcohol being forced at her. Panic crept in her gut as all she knew was the whiskey, flooding and burning her mouth and her throat, preventing her from getting even one gulp of air. Gods, gods.

She couldn’t breathe.

She tried to fidget away, tried to close her mouth, but he didn’t let her, keeping it there until the bottle was empty. Which he then tossed aside carelessly as she heaved, spluttering some of the whiskey up as she got in a glorious breath.

There was probably more of it on her neck and chest than there was in her stomach. Arobynn then pushed at her shoulder, shoving her to the ground, and she winced as her head hit the floor. He leaned over her, covering her whole body, his face inches from her own. His hand yanked at one of the straps of her nightgown, pulling it off her shoulder.

This was it. It was going to happen. Maybe the alcohol was good, if only for a way to forget.

Her heart thumped painfully, and she managed to look past him, looking down that hallway again. A tear slipped out of her eye, sliding down the side of her face. She didn’t want it to happen here. Not where she could almost see her daughter’s room.

An overwhelming panic took over her, and she managed to croak out a plea, a desperate plea.

“Please,” she breathed, “not here.” She hated herself for begging, but she couldn’t. “Anywhere but here.”

Arobynn paused, pulling back, narrowed eyes turning into dark humor. “Then let’s go somewhere more special.” He stood up, and her breaths turned shallow as he yanked her to a stand too, his grip tight on her upper arm.

She knew immediately what he meant when he started pulling her toward the front door. She had no choice but to follow, but the panic only grew.

“No-” she stuttered, her eyes wide. She tried to pull back away from him, but he was too strong. “You’re drunk.” Arobynn just scoffed, not slowing down. “You’re drunk, Arobynn, you can’t drive.” She barely registered that she’d said his name, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d said it to his face. But she was too panicked to care.

Her back tingled painfully, her brain flooding with memories of pain, fear, that overwhelming feeling of glass cutting right through her skin, sheering it away from her bones and her muscles and leaving her practically a corpse on the ground as she reached for the corpses who’d betrayed her.

Aelin clung to the door frame as he swung the front entryway open, trying to keep herself inside, but he yanked her with him, not even looking back as he dragged her across the gravel. She hadn’t even noticed, but it’d started raining, the droplets splattering loudly against the ground. “You’re going to get us killed!” She tried to reason, her lungs tight as she fought for air.

But he didn’t listen, just pulling her toward his barely used sports car, only touched for two reasons. When he wanted to go somewhere by himself, and when he was taking her to one place. The cabin.

Which was up a steep mountain, with twists and turns, and thin roads, and no street lights to pierce through this heavy rain. He was going to drive them off the fucking road.

But he didn’t care; not as he pulled open the passenger door, shoving her inside and slamming it behind her. Aelin’s eyes were wide, her nightgown and her hair already soaked, her breaths fast as she caught herself on the seat. No. No. No, no, no.

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t be in the car again when the driver was drunk. Drunk.

Panicked tears pricked at her eyes, only worsening when he slammed his own door shut behind him, turning on his car and immediately slamming his foot on the gas pedal, peeling out of the driveway. Aelin was thrown back in her seat, and it was instinct to reach for the seat belt, wrapping it over herself.

“You need to fucking respect me, you fucking bitch,” he cursed at her, his head turned toward her and not the road. Gods, she was going to have a panic attack.

She didn’t even care about his insults anymore, or his taunts, or his advances. She cared about one thing: getting out of this car alive.

It was late enough that there weren’t really many other cars out, especially in the direction they were going: away from the city. His mansion was already on the edge of Rifthold, so it wasn’t a far trek to the wilderness beyond it, to the mountains that had once housed her doom. But the sound of the rain beating against the car as it sped down the road spelled out a different kind of doom, making the asphalt damp and the journey even more dangerous.

Her face felt like it was being peeled back from how fast he was driving, the speedometer easily passing 50…60…70…80… approaching 90 as he raced toward the road up to the cabin. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to close her eyes or keep her eyes glued on the road as they drove, her heat being so fast it was painful.

Gods, gods, gods.

It felt like all the time and no time in the world before the road began to narrow, trees lining the edges as they got closer and closer to the mountains. And when he whipped around the first turn, Aelin nearly let out a cry of terror, her hands clenched in fists and dug into the seat under her, her nail piercing that same spot on her hand.

“I don’t know why the hell you think you can talk to me like this,” he hissed, “but I won’t put up with it anymore.” Only one of his hands was on the wheel. “You’re back in this house and you’re going to listen to me, Do you understand?” He whipped around another turn, only accelerating as the road began to steepen. “Do you fucking understand me?”

“Yes!” She cried out, “Please slow down, you’re going to drive off the fucking side of the road!” But her plea was useless. He didn’t listen, a humorless laugh escaping him instead. The road blew past them, trees racing by outside the car, the dark taking over as they left civilization behind. They were far away from any help.

At least it wasn’t like Doranelle, or like Terrasen, where the roads would’ve been covered in ice, impossible to control your key at a low speed, nevertheless at this neck breaking pace the sports car was driving at. But as if in mockery, the rain seemed to strengthen, seemingly saying oh yeah? You think ice is bad? Look at what I can do.

It pounded against the car, and Aelin could barely see out of it, the rain ruining all visibility.

“I hope you’re ready, darling,” he spat, “because once we get there, I’m going to f-” the car jolted, skidding around a corner and driving through a giant pooled up puddle of water, the sound of it splashing up against the car like hell to her ears. Even Arobynn seemed concerned, his foot slamming on the brake.

But the brake wasn’t working.

“Shit, godsdamnit, fuck,” Arobynn was cursing under his breath as the car started spinning out of control, skidding across the mountain road. The rain started falling around them in a kind of vortex, like a veil blocking all reality. Or a veil about to open up to death.

Because they were going to die.

But instead of freaking out like Arobynn was, Aelin entered some strange state of calm, her heart almost slowing to nothing as the car finally flung off the road, that familiar feeling of falling jolting through her before gravity finally took hold, sending them careening straight toward the Earth.

And all she heard was the sickening crunch of metal before everything went black.

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Pain was the first thing she felt as her eyelids slowly began to open. The first thing she heard was the loud ringing in her ears, making everything swirl around her in a kaleidoscope of colors. She blinked heavily, trying to clear her vision. And the first thing she saw was red.

Arobynn.

The car was suspended down at a slight angle, leaving Aelin slumped forward toward the dashboard. But Arobynn… Arobynn was pinned back against the seat, a jagged tree branch pierced through his side. She nearly threw up at the sight, and at the dizziness in her own body.

She’d definitely hit her head, against the airbag, against the window, she didn’t know, she couldn’t think that much.

But she could register the broken windshield, could register the tree they’d run into, stopping the car but ruining it all at the same time. And when she looked down at herself, she registered the jagged piece of glass sticking out of her thigh, a sickening amount of blood pooling around it. She was bleeding out, right? It didn’t feel quite real yet.

Slowly, she looked back at her husband, stuck in his seat, bleeding out too. He wasn’t dead yet, she could tell that much, but he was going to die. Any minute now. So was she, probably. Her wound wasn’t as severe, but there’s no way she’d survive either.

Not all the way out here.

So this was her last chance. Her last chance to say everything she needed to. To get everything off her chest. She should curse at him, she should damn him to hell and yell at him for every shitty thing he’d done to her, every horrible thing he’d put her through. Blame him for every little piece of her he ruined.

But when she tried to think of something, only one thing came to mind.

“This is the last chance I have to say anything to you, and I’m only going to say one thing.” Her breath rasped wetly as she spoke, each word painful to get out. But necessary. Arobynn’s eyes were dimming, but they were on her, and she could tell he heard her. Or at least, she liked to think he could.

“You hurt me. We both know it. You made me trust you, and then you hurt me.” Tears pricked at her eyes. “And I’m not going to be able to forget that.”

He was fading quickly, but she didn’t stop, letting herself get out the words she needed to say. “But her?” She added, not needing to clarify who she was talking about. The only her that mattered. “You’re never going to hurt her, you’ll never get the chance.

“And-“ she rasped, her own vision starting to turn fuzzy. “And I want you to know,” she continued, “that you tried to make my life hell, and by doing so you gave me the one thing that makes everything in my life worth it. And she will never, never, know what it is to be with a man like you.”

She trailed off in a whisper, tears slipping down her face in resemblance to the rain pouring in at them through the empty hole where the windshield belonged. And it was with those last words that she watched her husband die.

All light left his face, his head slumping over to the side.

She was alone.

Aelin squeezed her eyes shut, ignoring the pain in her body as she turned away from him, tilting her face up toward the sky. At least if she was going to die, she’d die free.

But she was never going to see Elia again.

Her heart clenched painfully, her whole body twitching in protest at the shock and at the pain of her injuries, but more so out of her broken heart. She was never going to see her daughter again. At least not in this lifetime.

She needed to say goodbye. She needed to say goodbye to the one thing that’d made her life worth it, that’d let her escape that hell she’d lived in, the hell she’d thought she’d die in. She’d already said goodbye to Rowan, but Elia, Elia…

“Elia,” she rasped, the words hoarse with tears, “I’m so sorry baby. I’m so, so sorry.” She kept her eyes closed, as if by ignoring the world around her she could pretend she was back in her apartment, her daughter in her arms.

“I’m sorry that I’m not going to see you grow up, that I won’t be by your side for your first day of school, your first period, your first heartbreak, all the things a mother should be there for. You won’t even remember me.” Her voice broke, more tears streaming down her face, dripping down her ruined nightgown. “I’m just going to be some story that people tell you, some distant memory that feels more like a dream. And I’m sorry. It breaks my heart.”

A sob escaped her, and she pressed a hand to her heart.

“But, you’re free now, baby,” she added, “He’s gone. And I am too, or I will be, but just know that you’re free of him. And I’m glad you‘ll forget him, even if it means forgetting me too.” She shuddered, dizziness beginning to take over again. She was going to pass out soon. And never wake up.

“Just know that I love you,” she said quietly through her sobs, “I love you so much, and even if I’m gone, that’s never going to change. I’m so sorry, I’m so- “ but she couldn’t finish, her voice failing her as black crept in on her vision.

The world faded around her again, but this time she was ready for it. Ready for death.

If only she could hug her daughter one last time.

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