(Un)Break me - Rhea Ripley x reader

Autopilot

TRIGGER WARNING: please be careful when reading this chapter and the next one// mentions of s.a and depression (though i doubt this last one comes as a surprise)

Face away, deal with the pain your own way.

Rhea's POV

For a few seconds after Y/N left, I didn't move. I couldn't move. Then, it was all too much and I couldn't hold myself up. My knees gave out beneath me.

Could it get any worse?

I stayed there, back against the cemetery's old fence as I tried to steady my breath. It was too much. All of it.

My nonna. Zak. Y/N. Shit, Y/N. It was leaving me disoriented.

The harder I tried to shut Zak's existence out and pretend he hadn't resurfaced, the more vivid it became. His voice. His rules. The things I had learned not to say. Not to do. All those things I thought I buried.

All the scars I convinced myself had faded reopened. They hurt like fresh wounds, like they had never healed in the first place.

And maybe they hadn't.

Everything happened so fast I couldn't process it. And it came out on autopilot. Anger.

I weaponized every word, every gesture. Like so many times before, it was the only way I could so it.

Y/N was the closest, so she got hit by the worst I could offer.

I kick the fence in frustration, feeling tears well up in my eyes.

"Fuck!"

Zak's laugh was carved in my memories. That mocking, cold, satisfied laugh he'd give me whenever I faltered, every time I bent myself to fit around him. He loved it when I doubted myself, when I begged for decency. He loved to say I was always too much, that I needed to be quiet, softer, better, more feminine. And I tried. God, I fucking tried. Until I wasn't myself anymore.

And now my own mind was dragging me back to that same stupid pit, whispering I'd never crawl out in one piece.

I kicked the fence again. And again.

Until my legs were trembling and my breath caught up. I dropped back down, resting my head against the now slightly bent metal, eyes shut to keep the tears from falling.

It was only when the gravel shifted beside me that I opened my eyes.

"Demi..." Calista's voice was careful, but not pitying. Never pitying.

I blinked slowly, like surfacing from underwater, to let her know that I was listening, or something close to it. The way her eyebrows furrowed as she was about to continue made a spark of anger reaper.

"Don't." I rasped. "I don't want a lecture. Or a hug. Or reassurance. Or...whatever."

"Good." She sat down beside me. "Because I didn't come here with a solution. I came because you ran off nearly an hour ago and now you're sitting on the ground looking like that fence turned against you." Calista's voice was soft.

That managed to get a laugh out of me, though the kind that sounded more like surrender than humor.

We stayed there in silence for a while. Only long enough for me to finally start getting back to my senses.

"You know she left crying, right?" Calista's voice sounded. I had to swallow the lump that immediately formed in my throat.

"Yeah." Because I wanted to taste blood.

"And that you're not the only one hurting today?"

"Yeah" My voice came out a lot quieter this time. My mind didn't have anything to counter either. Every cell in me knew she was right. I fucked up.

"She didn't just leave, you pushed her." That didn't sound like a question, still I nodded vaguely in response. "Why?" Shame washed over me and I couldn't hold her gaze.

Because I didn't want her to see me like that. I didn't want her anywhere near him. Because if she saw the way my hands still shake, she'd know what he did to me. She'd see the wreckage. And once she saw all that, maybe she'd run. Maybe she'd finally understand I'm not as strong and put together as she thought.

Or worse, maybe she wouldn't run. Maybe she'd stay. Stay and see how messed up I really am.

"I don't know." I whispered, though I did: because Y/N would see the cracks and wonder how she ever mistook me for anything else other than ruins.

"You didn't want it to be real." That also didn't sound like a question. I winced, Calista had always known me better than I know myself.

"I didn't want to be that kind of real."

"You think she ran off because of that? Because you were hurting?" My sister asked.

"I-

A few seconds passed when I talked again, though never answering her.

"Can I have a hug?" I ask quietly.

"Always, sis." Her arms were around my neck, making me lower myself onto her shoulder.

Eventually, we went back to the chapel and despite everyone's glances, the funeral proceeded uneventfully.

They were about to close the casket when I took my minute to whisper an apology.

"I'm sorry nonna, I didn't mean to cause a scene at your goodbye."

The burial proceeded and we went home with still no sign of Y/N. I tried her phone countless times, pacing around the living room. I would never forgive myself if something happened to her. Something worse than I already did, I mean.

"The number you have dialed is unavailable my fucking ass." I mimicked the mechanical voice in frustration and stole a bottle of gin from my parents'cabinet and hid in my room, turning on my music just how I needed it: loud, angry and ugly.

My hands wouldn't stay still. They trembled, itched for release. The wall near the desk already bore proof of that.

My eyes were watery for what felt like the millionth time today (and it probably was) as I clumsily reached for our notebook in her stuff to leave her a note.

I've never been good at knowing what I need. I only know how to draw blood, whether it's mine or someone else's it doesn't matter.

It's all I know, all my pain understands.

I tossed it on her pillow, hoping she would still come home tonight. Nevertheless, I stayed awake as time blurred until the creak of the door snapped me out of that haze. Y/N stood there, unsteady, eyes glassy but still sharp enough to land on the bottle beside me, and the red on my knuckles.