I Am Not Okay With This (Me Either)

Protection (Not That Kind, You Freak)

After Stanley's work day ended, he drove Leo to her house. Not to drop her off, though.

"What do you need from your room?"

"Toothbrush, hairbrush, pj's, underwear, bra, sweatshirt, and socks. Long ones, if you can find them," she said while counting on her fingers. She's more coherent then she was earlier.

"Only room upstairs, right?" he double-checked, to which she nodded. "And your mom is not home, correct?" She nodded again. "There's an empty back pack in my closet. You can toss my stuff in there."

As he made his way around the back, since the backdoor was always open, she curled herself into a ball and closed her eyes, trying not to fall asleep quite yet. She realized she had dozed off when she heard Stan's car door close, him in the driver's seat, of course.

He drove further up the street to his house, parked and helped her out. He got her on his back, bag in hand. He gave a a piggyback ride inside. He sat her down on the kitchen counter. "Do you want anything to eat?" "Not sure if I could hold anything down," she answered honestly. "Soup it its."

Stan gave Leo a mug of soup —because she preferred mugs over bowls— and some saltine crackers. It may have been from a can, but it was most definitely made with love. She sipped the chicken noodle slowly, watching him eat his quickly. She nibbled on her crackers, and swallowed heavily when she "drank" a piece of chicken. He waited for her to finish, placing the dishes in the sink. He turned his back to the counter so that he was directly in front of her. She slid onto his back, resuming the piggyback ride.

He made his way to his room, going slow while going down the stairs. "Where do you want to sleep tonight?" he asked the tired girl lazily attached to him. Her arm slung over his shoulder to point to a recliner chair with a foot stool. "You can shower tomorrow if you want, I'm going to take a shower. You can change into your pj's if you want. Do you need anything?" he asked before he disappeared into his curtain-covered bathroom. "The lights- hurt my head," and he promptly turned them all off except them bathroom light.

While he was in the shower, she took her time trading Stanley's borrowed clothes for her own pajamas, careful not to knock her throbbing head. Yes, it still hurt, if you were wondering. Having your head slammed into the floor wasn't all that fun.

She got up to brush her teeth and use the restroom, but that was it.

After Stan got out of the shower, she got to watch him get ready for bed. Got to watch him literally naked, his goods covered by a fucking towel. She would never fess up to it, but the thought had crossed her mind of using her new-found superpowers to remove the damned thing. Sadly, she was not up to the task, so she just stared. After he was done and had gotten into his pj's, he kissed on the forehead. "Will you brush my hair?" she asked quietly. He took the brush from her hand and motioned for her to sit on the stool of the recliner. He sat behind her, and sat closer than necessary.

He *very* gently ran the brush through her hair; starting at the top and ending when the curls passed through the the brush. Every small wince and grimace, he noticed. He would brush softer; careful to not hurt her. He noticed the back of her head was extremely tender. "How did your mom hurt you?"

Without turning her head, or moving at all, she responded. "How do you mean?" "When I asked what happened, you said she chased you, and that she hurt you, but you didn't get into specifics." "Its all kinda fuzzy but I'll give you what I remember: I had to go in the back door because the front was locked. I think I went upstairs, but I know I had to be downstairs to get my snacks," she thought as hard as she could, trying to remember the events in order.

"My mom yelled at me, I think for not coming home. I ran to my room, she followed me and I just remember her on top of me. She had her hands on my throat and I think she was slamming my head into the floor. But I can't be too sure of any of that. I didn't have a whole 'lotta oxygen in my brain so I could be recalling it wrong," she said quietly, then placed her hand on her chest as she cleared her throat. It still hurt to speak; there might've been damage to her vocal cords.

It hadn't even been a full day yet.

"When do I have to go back..?" she asked, almost hoping the answer'd be never. "You can stay as long as you need. But, the standard recovery period for a grade two concussion is at least three days. So there's no negotiation there," his fingers combed through a strand he had just brushed. "I'm not sure when my dad'll be home, but if he does while you're here, we have two options: hide you and sneak you around, or, just tell him you're staying here."

As he finished brushing her wavy hair —not quite curly, but close— he stood from the chair, grabbed a blanket and covered her with it. He kissed her on the forehead, shut off the lights, and went to go lay on the couch.

"Where are you going?" Leo asked. She couldn't mask the desperation in her voice; the 'please don't leave me like everyone else' tone. It felt like Stan's heart was squeezed in his chest, looking to see her eyes big and eyebrows drawn together. "I was going to- I was gonna sleep on the couch... I didn't wanna invade your space," he said truthfully. The amount of genuine love she held in her heart for this pure bean (okay, he's not that pure, but he's a good guy) almost hurt.

She lifted her arms in the air and made grabby hands at Stan. He smiled and leaned down to hug her. Leo wrapped her arms around his neck and latched her legs around his waist. "Lay with me please," she pleaded. Giving it no second thought, he slowly lowered himself onto the recliner with her. She'd never fess up to it, but she was afraid of the dark.

And having someone with her made it all the more bearable to sleep with the lights off.