Bad Blue Woebegone (Fourtris AU)

[3]

"You need to call the police." I gesture to the land line that hangs on the wall.

"I've tried. They always take too long." Her eyes well with tears, her voice thick with emotion.

"Did you call the police or the emergency line?"

"Police." She buries her face in her hands, her body racking with sobs.

"Call 911 then. Tell them to come back here and get us, really. I'll hold the door."

She stands on shaky legs, talking to the person with fear.

As we wait for the police, pixie still holding the phone to her ear, the terrible sound of a knock echoes through the little room.

"Christina! I know you're in there!" He slams what I can only imagine to be his hip against the door with great force, knocking me over from where I was trying to keep him from coming in.

I scramble up, pushing Christina under a table and standing in front of her protectively.

"You little bitch!" He screeches at me, "It wasn't your fucking place to get involved!" He swings his fist at my face, landing a painful swing on the bridge of my nose. A painful crunch is heard, but I make no sound, falling backwards onto my elbows. He crawls on me, ready to beat the shit out of me.

And in that moment, police swarm the room, along with my manager and another guy.

They pull the burly guy off of me, pushing his front into a wall so they can cuff him.

"State your name." One policeman addresses.

"Austin Winters." He says, after struggling for a minute.

Pixie helps me off the floor, crying into my neck, "I don't think I can ever thank you." She sobs.

"My nose is bleeding. Your going to get blood all over you." I speak, refraining from blushing. She was adorable.

"Your like the older sister I never had." A paramedic pulls her away gently, taping up my nose.

The man that came in with my manager, a tall fellow with blue almost black eyes and soft brown hair, steps forward.

"I have a house, containing people just like you, all have gone through different situations. I feel it would be best if you would join us." He spoke like it was a demand rather than an option.

"At least give her a choice in the matter," I growl. "She can stay with me until she's made up her decision."

The man turns to me, "What makes you think you can talk to me?" He glares down at me.

"With that kind of attitude, I wouldn't want to be within a few miles from you, let alone a house." I fire back.

"Tris," Christina says softly, pulling me back, "Can I just stay with you?" In that moment she looked so utterly broken, I couldn't resist. She was like a child who had just lost something important. A person who was meant to love and cherish her, using her like a punching bag.

"Of course."

My manager, who had been listening the whole time, speaks, "You can take the rest of your shift off. I'll pay you for full. When were you working till?"

"One in the morning."

He nods, glancing around the now empty room, other than that one man.

"Christina, you should think about it." He pulls a card from his back pocket, pressing it into my palm, which I feel was a smart move because the pixie trusts me more.

I hand the card to her, guiding her from Walmart and into her freedom.