Chapter Text
You replayed this moment in your head one million times before, you came up with one million possibilities to how you could handle this, you made promises to yourself that you wouldn't hesitate to run in once you were free from his hold or escaped from it. You made a promise to not turn back, so why was it suddenly getting hard to breathe?
You couldn't find the strength to lift your foot and take a step forward, you couldn't find the courage to move at all, so here you are, standing in front of the Detroit Police Department, a few meters away from the entrance and completely frozen as paranoia took a hold of you. You could only move your head left and right, frantic (Eye Colour) eyes searched their surroundings for any signs of that horrifyingly familiar face.
You thought you saw his face in the crowd, but you assured yourself that it can't be him. He's at work. There's no way he caught on already. He doesn't know.
He doesn't know.
He doesn't...
But what if he does?
What if he came home because he forgot something and found the place empty?
What if he found out that you escaped?
What if he... finds you?
Oh, he won't forgive you. He won't take your offer of sex in exchange for him not to hurt you, instead, he'll break you worse than he ever has before. He'll break your legs so you won't ever leave him again, he'll even snap your arms in half so there isn't a chance for you to crawl away. He'll lock you up in the basement, he'll you chain to the drain and leave you starving and dehydrated for days until he finally remembers he left you there.
Oh god... He might even kill you.
Why did you even leave in the first place?
Fear began to surge through your veins as you made the frantic decision to turn around and go straight back home, but before you could take a step back, you felt a tug on your right hand.
You looked down to your right and found your reason to why you were risking your life. A little boy with dark brown hair and precious blue eyes stared up at you with worry. He turned towards you and held your right hand with both of his smaller ones, "Mommy? Are you okay?"
Oliver.
That's right.
You escaped with Oliver.
You escaped for your six-year-old son.
You escaped so he would have a chance of a happy childhood. You're risking everything so your son doesn't have to hide in the closet while that monster decorates your fragile body in purple patches. You're doing this for Oliver, you can't back down now, you're all he has left.
You smiled weakly at him, turning to him and crouching down to meet his gaze, you lift your left hand and placed it gently against his cheek, softly rubbing your thumb against his skin, "I'm okay. Are you okay?"
Oliver nodded his head, "I'm fine, mommy."
You ran your hand through his dark hair before standing up and turning back to the entrance of the building, "It'll all be over soon. We'll be safe."
"Safe from dad?"
You nodded slowly, "Yeah..."
The boy stared up at you before giving your hand a tiny squeeze, "Okay."
You took a deep breath before taking a step forward, gathering all of the courage that Oliver gave you and made your way inside. You manoeuvred past the other civilians and androids, you walked up to the free receptionist that greeted you with a smile, "Good morning, how may I help you?"
"Hi..." You croaked out, you took a minute to clear your throat, "I-I'm looking for Hank Anderson. Is... Is he in?"
"Yes." She nodded, "Do you have an appointment?"
You shook your head, "No... No, I don't. Can... Can you just inform him that I'm here? It won't be long. I just... I just really need to speak with him."
She stared at you, you knew you sounded desperate with that plead, but you really were. It felt like you were running out of time, as if any second now, that man would burst through those doors and grab you and drag you all the way back to that shitty house. You squeezed Oliver's hand as you pleased, "Please?"
She took a moment, but nodded, "Of course, I will inform him that you are waiting for him. Can I have your name?"
"Oh, uh... (Name) Anderson." You quickly uttered out.
She nodded before gesturing to the waiting area, "Please take a seat. He will be right with you in a moment."
"Thank you." You mumbled before turning around. You guided Oliver to an empty seat and he climbed up onto it. He sat down and you crouched down in front of him, you rubbed his arms and smiled softly at him, "Everything's okay."
Oliver stared at you before reaching out and hugging you. You were left silent, holding back the tears that were threatening to spill. It was Oliver's habit to hug you whenever you were having a rough time. Every time his father would finish decorating you in purple, he would come out of the closet in the bedroom and join you by your side. He would climb into your lap and just hug you as you cried softly. He wouldn't say anything, he would just stay there in your arms until you both felt better.
Sometimes Oliver seemed more mature than you.
You hugged him tightly, "I love you, Oliver. I love you so much."
"I love you too, mommy."
There was a brief silence before the sound of rushed footsteps caught her attention. There, by the gates, you saw him. The man you haven't seen in eight years since that monster persuaded you to live with him.
Your father.
He stood in front of the gates, breathing heavily and staring at you with widened eyes. Your bottom lip quivered as you slowly pulled away from Oliver. You stood up and you opened your mouth to say something, you wanted to say that he was right about him, you wanted to say you were so sorry, but he didn't even give you the chance. He stormed right up to you and pulled you into his arms, squeezing you tightly, "(Name)..."
You buried your head in his shoulder, taking in the smell of alcohol and bad cologne, it wasn't a pleasant smell, but it smelt like home. Your breath hitched, "Dad, I--!"
He pulled away, “Where in the fucking world have you been?!”
He held your shoulders tightly, “Do you know how worried I have been for the past few years?! I tried visiting that dump your boyfriend lives at but he was gone too. Where the fuck have you been?!”
“I—!”
“Mommy?”
You two stopped and looked over to Oliver, who was now standing up and holding onto your right leg. Hank slowly looked back up to you and you pressed a weak smile, “It’s… a long story.”