Kitten

Chapter Four: Broken Gently Fixed

Not every day was good. Mox knew he was living enough of a fairy tale already, why ask for more? He was fine with not every day being sunshine and rainbows.

It was at random usually, some little thing. He never blamed her though. How the hell could he blame her? Even after everything she'd been through, she just welcomed him into her home and gave and gave like it didn't matter, like it was easy.

He'd really noticed it when he made it home a little later than normal from a match one night. He stumbled in through the door, calling for her. Jon was half out of his mind from the pain but he saw her flinch, saw her cringe back when he reached for her and that stopped him in his tracks.

" Kitten? " He'd asked softly. " ya' alrigh'? Can I touch ya'? " Sometimes the touching made it worse, sometimes it made it better. He knew all too well the crawling feeling that set in with unwanted skin contact. She shook her head and he shifted away, giving her room. " What happened? Did he try somethin' at ya' work? "

" I just...someone that looked like him, probably wasn't him. I was crossing the street and he yelled something at me. " She tried to smile up at him. " It's kind of hard, you know? "

Jon had nodded automatically. He didn't know the full extent of the damage that had been done. She didn't talk about it. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know, honestly. He was already more than a little cross with himself for not tearing a chunk out of the guy instead of treating him like a human being and putting him down with his fists.

Anybody that could do something as ugly as whatever that fucker had done deserved to be ripped apart. The fact that she either wouldn't, or outright couldn't talk about what had happened to her kept Jon up some nights.

There were days that she didn't want to be touched. Where she would just kind of...vanish into herself. Bundle up into blankets and quietly sit, or cry in the shower when she thought he couldn't hear. Mox knew he was a scumbag. A stray, a mutt. He didn't deserve her at her worst, never mind at her best.

Dammit though Kitten, I'm your mutt. I want to help.

"I know it's hard. I dunno' how hard exactly, but it can't be a fuckin' cakewalk." Mox said softly out of the blue one day, cradling her against his side. She shook her head, burying her face in his chest. "I'll kill 'im for ya', Kitten." He offered easily, making her snort. "Nuke his existence real quick n' clean, he'll never see it comin'." He nuzzled her cheek and kissed down her neck. "Won't know what fuckin' hit him."

Just the idea of giving her ex a legitimate beatdown had Mox's mind running wild. Maybe put a little more fear into the bastard instead of just knocking him out. If he ever got a rough estimate of the number of times that fucker was rough with her...punch for punch, kick for kick. Make him scream, make him beg. Stand over him with his boot on his fucking neck-

Jon realized he was half-hard. Whoops, I'm a little fucked up I guess. He adjusted himself in his jeans, slouching further down on the couch.

She made a noise in her throat and ducked her head to kiss his hand. He groaned. "Fuck, Kitten. I'll do whatever y' fuckin' want if he ever tries anythin'. You know that, righ'?"

"I know." Fingers had gone to work on his zipper. "Thank you."

"Wait, Kitten wait." Mox caught her hands, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. "I ain't promisin' shit for a mouth thank-you or t' get in ya' pants. I know y' worth more n' that shit. Just...lemme' hold ya' for a little while, alrigh'?"