𝘌𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯

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☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

A gunshot and blood. So much blood.

Addison was back in that room, the one where her father's life bled from his body and his eyes looking at her. A smile on his lips because she was the last person he saw. She was shaking, curled up into a ball under that dirty motel bed. Wrappers surrounded her as blood collected on the carpet, slipping towards her, and soaking the carpet that she laid on. The warmth made her tremble more, she wasn't supposed to see this, she wasn't supposed to see the moment her father's life ended. He wasn't supposed to go laying before her.

Red. So much red.

Addison hated red, it was the color of stop, the color of the end, the color that the Sons of Lucifer wore on their jackets. And now it was on her, staining her pretty new dress that her daddy had bought her for her sixth birthday. The blue was turning purple, her skin was dripping with her father's blood. The door shut, leaving Addison in the room with her father's corpse, and she finally let out a small sob, fingers shaking as she reached for her father. She knew he was dead, she watched death take over his body, the bullet hole in his forehead gave it away. Addison told her father she wouldn't get out from under the bed until her mom came to get her, but she had to hug her dad one last time. She needed to.

So she scrambled from under the bed, small legs kicking viciously to get crawl out. "Daddy," a small cry left her lips, she just turned six. Yesterday was her birthday, he promised her a zoo trip, ice cream, balloons, and a day when her mommy was sober and they were happy, just for once, "Daddy please," she knew he wouldn't answer, Addison may have been little but she knew the world she was living in. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she pressed her forehead to the spot she once would've been able to feel his beating heart, only now it was empty and she knew something died in her that day, something that no one would be able to replace or reignite. "I love you, Daddy," were the last words she spoke, her little body covered in his blood as she cried against his chilling body.

Footsteps made her scramble back under the bed.

"Derek I got the-" Something shattered to the ground, as did Addison's eardrums when her mother screamed, "Oh god, oh god, Addison baby where are you?" Her mother was frantic, and Addison was trying to climb out from the bed, her mother searching the room, fearful of the Sons taking her small daughter into their hell. The hell her mother tried so desperately to escape. A scream left her mother's lips when she turned around, seeing her six-year-old covered in blood, the red matting her hair to her face. "Oh god baby come here," Addison ran to her mom, letting the woman wrap a blanket around her before lifting her into the soft embrace of a mother who thought her child was gone, "let's go baby, we have to go."

Addison hugged her mother tighter, burying her head in the woman's neck as she ran down the corridors to find another motel, and she started a life of uncertainty, a life of chaos, and a black hole of anger formed in her.

Panic filled Addison's veins.

She could feel the beat of her heart slamming against her chest, eyes flying open and scrambling up. Her body hurt, and gauze covered her arms from where Sierra was bandaging her burns, Bucky was beside her watching her with those blue eyes she couldn't lie to. "Sierra, can you go outside for a minute," Bucky watched Addison's pupils dilate, her breathing becoming labored when tears filled her eyes. Years, Addison hadn't had a nightmare of that night in years, and she knew exactly what triggered it.

She killed a man. The blood reminded her of the worst night of her life.

Sierra left the room, leaving Bucky alone with his trembling wife. His right hand curled around the back of her neck, Addison's eyes falling shut when his thumb pressed into her pulse. "You're here with me," his words were soft, situating himself closer to Addison, one hand on her thigh the other staying wrapped around her neck, "it's okay my love, you're safe."

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