From Shadows, I Burn (Bumbleby)

Part 1

(Prologue)

Above the darkness and the shame
Above the torture and the pain
Above the ridicule and hate
Above the binding of our fate
- From Shadows
__

"I'm sorry!"

I'm sorry

Two words that Blake said often, but it never did much to calm him.

Broken doors, holes in the walls, threats on her life, her friend's lives, bruises, and broken bones. She never knew what she did wrong, really. She just knew that he was always so mad, any little thing would set him off. She gave up trying to determine her fault in things.

I'm sorry was just the first thing that came to mind.

She'd think: Maybe he would listen to her. Maybe he'd see that she did nothing wrong. Maybe he'd stop.

That was just wishful thinking.

Blake began to despise the color red. Red like his hair, red like his engraved knife, red like her skin on the days he'd snapped.

The same brutal, merciless red that ran down her arm as she walked.

She doesn't even remember how long she'd been walking. Everything was a blur, her senses meshed together.
Car horns honked, street lights flickered, and the smell of city musk and pennies invaded her nostrils.

She wouldn't stop, though. She would walk and stagger all the way if need be; walk until she fell to her bruised knees.

Her heart rapidly and strongly thumped in her chest.

Thumped like the sound of the door breaking.
Thumped like the feeling of a skull hitting the wall.
Thumped like the sound of a man falling on the dance floor. Unconscious from Adam's jab because he stared at her for a little too long.

Thump, thump, thump was all she heard in her head. She didn't even realize the door opened. She didn't realize she put all of her weight against it, letting it support her. She didn't realize how gentle the calloused hands that held her up were.

"Oh my god, Blake!"

Golden eyes blinked themselves open at the sound of her voice.

"I'm sorry..."

She wasn't entirely sure why she found herself saying it again but it was all she had left in her. It was all she had left, it was all she could do. Even that had no value.

"I-I'm gonna call an ambulance, okay?"

Blake's eyes grew wider, shooting open in terror at the mere idea of that.

She wished she could tell her why that was a bad idea. She wished she could tell her everything.

"No!" She rapidly shouted, withered and broken.

A split-second of shock at the outburst; a quickening of breath.

"Why not? You're hurt! What happened?"

"It's-I..I got mugged. It's the city, it happens." She attempted a small laugh but it was weak and unconvincing. Although she tried to tell her one thing, the flattened ears atop her head was telling another.

The arms around her hugged her tighter. Hugging her like she was close to crumbling. Those same gentle hands, weathered from years of professional fighting, held the back of her head as Blake nestled into her neck.

She was shaking, Blake knew, and she knew it was felt. Reverberating stronger than one of Ilia's amps.

"Are you okay?"