Heart of the Sea

Chapter 17 - Desperate Times

With nothing left to help, Lili's condition worsened over the next week. Exercise did not help, naps did not help, reading did not help. She was distracted and easily irritated, darkness rested beneath her near-feverish blue eyes, and her lips were set in a constant frown. She'd been asked a few times by nearly everyone if she was alright, and she always told them she was fine. If they insisted, she'd snap a little, and that was enough to keep them at bay. (But not at Henry. She tried her best to be civil around the boy.)
One Saturday afternoon, she'd decided to exercise while the family was out and try a nap later. (Naps tended to do more bad than good nowadays, but could always try it, right?) So she did. She worked up a sweat, nagging thoughts adding anger to her strength and motivation. Once she'd worked up a sweat and thoroughly worn herself out (though to be honest that hadn't been very hard to do recently), she flopped onto the couch and closed her eyes. She hoped this would work.

The Charmings came in and thoroughly shushed one another as they saw Lili sleeping on the couch. Maybe this would end the bad slump she'd been on? They prepared dinner, and once it was ready, Henry elected himself to wake Lili.

She remembered this night. She knew what was going to happen. A man was going to come into her room. She remembered refusing him earlier in the evening, having to do so stubbornly, more than likely with a "bugger off" thrown in for good measure. Then she'd gone and flirted with a younger lad in front of him. Perhaps it had not been a wise idea, but she'd always been good at irritating people. The boards of the hall outside creaked, and she remembered waking up at the groan of the door. Keeping her breathing steady so as not to give away that she was awake. Silently wrapping her fingers around the hilt of the knife she always kept within hand's reach.
"Refuse me, I'll show you, y'damn wench," the man muttered beneath his breath. She sensed him getting closer, could feel his presence at the edge of the bed. "I'll show you what y'missing out on."

Henry shook her shoulder a little. "Hey Lili. Lili wake up, come on. It's time for dinner." He shook her shoulder a little more. She lurched up, whirling, grabbing Henry in a headlock, other arm wrapped around his head, ready to snap his neck with a twist, still partially unaware of reality. "Leave me be, y'bloody bahstard, before I make you regret ever laying eyes on me," she growled as Henry's fingers gripped at her arm.
Killian held up a hand to the others. Loud words and actions would not help. He slowly, calmly approached the couch, like he might a skittish animal, hand up, palm out in a peaceful gesture. "Lili, look at me, lass. It was just a dream. There is no danger here. Let the lad go."
Lili's brow furrowed. The captain had not been there.
The captain. This was not her room.
This was not that man.
Her grip loosened a little as her mind awoke, and when she realized it was Henry she was holding, she released him as though he were a poisonous snake, scrambling away from him, horror stricken on her face.
Henry coughed a few times as he was quickly dragged into the kitchen by Emma and her parents, assuring them he was fine.
"Henry I'm so sorry!! Lad I-I didn't mean to, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she got out, tears welling in her eyes.
Killian made to sit down beside her, but she shook her head, fleeing up the stairs, into the semi-walk-in closet that the Charmings stored all their junk in. She'd discovered it on her cleaning day. She closed the door behind her, locking it, allowing herself to break in the darkness. She was the bastard. She was a bitch and a slag and worth nothing, especially not now. She'd nearly killed him. A sob escaped her lips. She'd nearly killed Henry.
This was proof.
This was proof that she was unworthy of love. Of company. (Better off alone. Always have been, always will be.)
Nobody should be stuck with her, should care for her; nobody deserved this. She was a curse, a bad luck charm. (Just as she'd thought.)

"What the hell was that??" Emma demanded as Henry drank some water and assured everyone he was fine. (Again. They really didn't need to keep asking.)
"It was a reflex," Killian sighed. "She was probably having a bad dream and was still in it when she woke up."
Emma sensed he knew what it was like.
"You gonna be okay, Henry?"
"I'm fine, seriously. She didn't hurt me." The skin on his neck was a little pink, but otherwise he was perfectly fine.
Killian sighed again, brow furrowing. She needed help. The path she was walking was going downhill very steadily, and a feeling in the pit of his stomach told him she might not want to get off it. He slipped away from the group and up the stairs to the closed door of the closet. He sat down outside it, gathering his thoughts, how to put the words, listening for a few moments. By the sniffs, she'd probably been crying. She cared for the boy. (She cared, which meant there was hope.) "Lili, I know you're in there. You don't have to say anything, if you don't want, please just..listen. I..know, how you feel, to some extent. I know what you're going through, I've been there myself. It's no pleasant place. It's dark and grim, and I know that there seems to be no light, no way out. But I promise you, there is." He paused. "This..was an accident. I know you never meant to harm the boy, and you didn't. He's perfectly fine, trying to convince the Charmings so, but they can be bloody stubborn when they've a mind to be."
A huff of a laugh. (Killian smiled. Good.)
"Lili I..I know that you wish for this to end. For peace. And while I know that you aren't quite ready for one solution, I can offer another. I'll go and get you some rum once I'm finished speaking. I'll leave it here at the door, though..I'd prefer if you would come out and see us first. The choice is up to you, lass. And, also, if you'd like, again, just another option, I'm more than willing to stay here to guard you when you wish, to keep the nightmares at bay. I've no doubt I can handle your reflexes, should they come into play, so you needn't worry about my safety." He paused. "I know you didn't mean it, lass. I know it was an accident, and though I know you probably won't, I'd suggest trying to forgive yourself, or at least leave this in the pahst. I know you care about the lad. I'm sure he wouldn't want you to hold it against y'self. Just try. Maybe not today, but sometime."
He sighed and stood, knees popping. "I'll be back in a bit, lass. ..Please don't torture y'self." (He knew that was exactly what he'd be doing if he was her.) (Hell, he had done it.)

She waited until his footsteps were gone to let her hand drop from her mouth, a sob escaping her lips as tears slipped down her face once more. He should not be so kind. She did not deserve it. She closed her eyes, all of her terrible names, every moniker she'd ever been called running on a loop through her mind as she hugged her knees, rocking back and forth a little. She was unworthy. She was a bloody rum-addicted pirate, who hurt the people she loved. She did not deserve to be near them. She would not be near them. Unworthy echoed in her head. Monster, whore, murderer, torturer, drunkard. That was who she was. That was who she would be until the day she died.
Footsteps thumped on the stairs.
Creak of knees and pants, rustle of brown paper, clink of glass.
She revelled in the race of her heart at the sound, the taste of her dry lips. (She ignored the disgust.) This was who she was.