Strife

Joey's POV~

Things were... complicated with Sawyer, to say the least. I was too scared to deal with him, so most of my time I spent hiding in my own apartment. My number one goal was to keep Sawyer and Shane apart, because I was unsure of how far Sawyer would go. The bruises on my neck darkened before they got better, and I could never be thankful enough to Meghan for the makeup she lent me.

It was all mind games: Sawyer knew I had a guilty conscience, and every time I saw him, I felt bad. But more than my concern for him was my fear. He was unstable, but I'd found a way to blame that on myself. I would catch glances of him around the apartment, and I couldn't feel safe in my own home.

Not anymore.

Shane could tell something was up. I tried to keep my physical injuries hidden as well as I could, but I found myself being a lot more cautious now. I tried to get out of the house as much as I could, visiting other friends or going out with Shane. I didn't want Shane to think I was avoiding him, but things felt more tense than I was comfortable with. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him so badly, but that wasn't what I needed.

I couldn't handle being around them together. Shane was getting suspicious, Sawyer was getting impatient, and I was lost in the mix.

"Hey Joey, let's do something," Shane came to me one afternoon, flopping down on the couch across from where I sat on my laptop.

"We do lots of things," I managed to reply quickly, closing my computer halfway and managing a smile.

"I know, but..." he sighed, grabbing a pillow and hugging it. "It feels like it's been a long time since we did anything good."

I shifted a little in my seat. "...A-are you talking about sex...?"

He shot me a look, "That too, boo, but I meant like... a date."

"We go on lots of dates," I shrugged, feeling paranoid that Sawyer was listening in. I didn't want him hearing. I didn't want him getting mad. "But I think that would be... nice."

"I want to go out somewhere really nice," he continued to speak. "I made a little extra money this month, so... why not?"

I smiled, closing my computer the rest of the way. "That sounds great."

He leaned back, looking very satisfied with himself and interlacing his hands behind his head. "And, who knows? Maybe after, we'll come back for a little... how would you say it? Frick frack patty snack?" 

"Shane," I scolded lightly, feeling a bit of heat reach my face at what he was hinting at. "Don't joke about that."

He continued to meet my gaze with a proud expression. "I wasn't joking."

The color in my face darkened. "Shane."

"Joey," he mocked my tone. "Babe. It's okay. I love you, remember?"

"I do," I looked down, clasping my hands and not able to summon those three words to reciprocate. "Let's just focus on the date first, right?"

Shane called an upscale restaurant in the better part of town and got us reservations for the end of the week. I felt a little bad about letting him spoil me, but I knew he wouldn't have it any other way. I knew I'd have to dress up nice, but I'd find something when Friday night finally rolled around.

That night, Shane ended up heading out to pick up some groceries. Nothing too big, we were out of milk and he said he'd get some other foods while he was out too. I wasn't feeling too good - with being guilty, and being abused, and still healing a little from my old self-inflicted wounds, I was definitely a little below prime. I put on a movie - whatever was on live, and curled up with some comfort food, which in my case, was a glass of lemonade.

God, I needed a therapist.

I'd come in about halfway through the movie, and wasn't really following the plot, but I was upset when the credits started to roll. At least having it on had distracted me from the tense atmosphere of my apartment. I know felt all to aware of what I knew were Sawyer's eyes on the back of my head. I wouldn't let myself move, pretending to still be engaged with the movie.

It was all for nothing.

"So, Joey," he sounded so calm, no emotion in his voice. I was scared. I pulled the blankets tighter around myself. "It's been two weeks, and you're still with that son of a bitch." I knew that if I turned to meet his gaze, I would break, and he would overpower me again. "I thought you were smart. I thought you were going to make the right decision, buddy. You... you said..."

"I know," I was trembling, trying my best not to let it show. "I... I want to... help you."

All of a sudden, he was right behind me. I could hear him breathing through his nose. This wasn't the Sawyer I knew. He's changed, and somehow, I was able to convince myself it was my fault.

Again.

"Come on, Joey," he spoke very quietly, hands moving gentler than I knew possible onto each of my shoulders, tiny ministrations making me curl in on myself. "If you're going to help me, do it."

"I-I..." I clenched my eyes shut. "I can't be with you, Sawyer. I just can't."

"You said that you wanted to help..." His breath was hot on the back of his neck. "Then go on. You... you know what you need to do." He grabbed my shoulders more harshly. "You don't want to be stupid here, do you?"

"I do want to help you, I do," I repeated, finally getting up the courage to lean forward and get to my feet, turning to face him. "But not in that way. I... I'm going to get you the help you need."

"Joey." I didn't like how calm his voice was. I didn't like the way his eyes looked darkened by long shadows cast from the dim lamps around us. I didn't like the way I felt like I was being hunted. "You... you're acting like I'm sick. I don't need help." He reached over the couch and brushed the side of my face with the side of his hand, sending me shying away again. "I only need you."

When I closed my eyes and stepped away from his touch, whispering a his name, his countenance changed entirely. He drew back his hand and smacked me hard across the face, sending me reeling back. "Filthy slut! You want to leave me?! I can't be alone -!"

All I could do was whimper and back away as he circled the couch, throwing another punch and sending me flying back onto the floor. "Sawyer, wake up! This isn't you!" I tried to yell, I tried to get through to him.

But nothing worked.

Blow after blow landed on me, arms and torso and face, Sawyer all the while spewing obscenities about me or Shane. I wanted desperately to defend myself, to defend my boyfriend, but this was Sawyer. I didn't know how to react, except in shock.

I couldn't send him away. And by keeping him here, I was sealing my own fate.

"Shane is fucking worthless," he spat down at me when he finally drew back. "And I plan to show you exactly that. Then you'll see. Then!" He turned and left the apartment, slamming the door for good measure.

I was running out of time.

I knew that Shane would be back any minute. I didn't have time to think about every stupid decision I was making. I peeled myself off the floor, changed, checked for any physical damage (no skin was broken this time, and it would take a little while for the bruises to appear) and tried to collect myself as much as I could. I went to bed, feeling like it was the only safe place left in my apartment. When Shane got home, I pretended to be asleep.

He was going to find out sooner or later, and I still had no idea what I wanted to happen.

I guess I wanted Sawyer to be okay. To not be obsessed with me (or whatever he was doing now) and to not have the obvious bipolar moods. I seemed to think it would be something simple - I could flip a switch and everything would be fine: Shane and I could be happy, Sawyer could be my friend, and we'd all just get along.

But it wasn't going to be like that. I was finally catching on.

Two nights before our big dinner date, I woke up in the dead of night to absolute silence. At first, I dismissed it, shifting a little closer to Shane and nuzzling his chest. But I got the intense feeling that I was being watched, and opened my eyes, looking but not moving.

It took a second to adjust to the darkness, but when it did, my chest tightened and I didn't dare move.

Standing over Shane on the other side of the bed was Sawyer, a silhouette except for his white teeth, reflecting the little bit of light from the door.

It took my full will power not to scream.

I was terrified, but I forced myself to remain still. If I pretended I was asleep, maybe he'd go away. Or maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me. I shut my eyes and tried to convince myself this was just a dream, and when I opened them again, he'd be gone. I counted silently for thirty seconds, and when I opened them again, he was still there.

And now I could notice the glint of something metal in his hand.

I wasn't going to try to see what it was. It should've been then that I realized I was living with a psychopath, and Shane and I were really in danger. Not me as much - he was only hurting me because I wasn't doing what he wanted. Shane, to him, was just an obstacle that he needed to remove.

I pretended to be asleep, but I didn't dare let myself actually doze off. Or at least I tried not to. I must've at some point, because in a sudden, I was painfully aware that the sun was now shining in and Sawyer was gone. I felt terrible - sore back from staying absolutely still all night long, sleep clogging every one of my veins, and that sickening feeling of despair in the pit of my stomach. 

It was real. I knew it. 

I extracted myself from Shane's embrace, skirting along the wall until I locked myself in the bathroom. More bruises were showing up already, high on my left cheekbone and faded over my shoulders and arms. I could cover those ones with clothing, but my face was a different matter. I pulled out Meghan's makeup, dabbing gingerly at the raised skin. It hurt, but I had to get it done. 

Shane couldn't know. I don't know why, but Shane couldn't know. 

But that wouldn't be enough.

There was a loud knock on the door, enough to make me jump. "Um, just a second," I managed, makeup only half-applied. I fumbled to return it to it's hiding place under the sink but the knob turned.

"Just a second!" I repeated, pressing my back to the door and trying to hold it closed.

"Joey, Jesus. Calm down, it's just me. Let me in."

I exhaled at the sound of Shane's voice. I tried my best to steady my own: "I'm calm, hun. I'll be out in a second."

The second I let up on the door, he opened it again, speaking, "I don't understand why - " He trailed off when he found me standing next to the sink, fully clothed, not getting in the shower, not shaving or brushing teeth or anything. But with makeup sloppily applied to half of my face.

"Please close the door," I begged, brows drawing together with worrry. "Shane, I..."

He did the exact opposite, stepping into the bathroom and closer to me. It was taking him a second to figure out what was going on. He narrowed his eyes and cupped my face in his hands, turning my neck just a little.

But enough to cast the bruises into light.

"Joey, what...?" he moved even closer, smudging the makeup with his fingers to reveal the long tendrils of finger marks encircling my neck. "What the fuck? Jesus, what... who did this to you?"

I was shaking my head; I felt like crying. He squeezed my arms harder, making me shy away from him and break contact, slipping back and grabbing onto the sink for support. "Joey," he raised his voice. "Who did this?"

I still said nothing, but Shane was clever. Shane was able to figure it out on his own. "... Sawyer..."

"No!" I couldn't help myself from blurting out. Shane gave me a look and a dam burst: all the words fell out, "I-it wasn't his fault! ... I swear, I don't know what happened, but please, don't blame him..." I sunk to the ground and drew my knees up to my chest, curling in the corner.

This bathroom was a place of despair.

"What are you talking about?" he knelt next to me, trying to stay calm. It was obvious how overwhelmed he was. "Why would he... why would anyone want to do this to you? It-it's not okay!" I was shaking my head still, tears just barely spilling over.

"He hurt me because he loves me," I spat, shaking and covering my neck with my hands. "You - you can't..."

"We can't let him get away with this!" Shane furrowed his brows. "Why wouldn't you - why wouldn't you tell me?"

"Because they can't take him away..." I sobbed, my voice breaking and falling to a whisper.

"He fucking tried to strangle you!" he stressed, grabbing my hands in his. "I told you Sawyer was bad news from the start - "

"I don't know why you're saying that," I was denying things to myself now. "Please, you... you can't..." He stood up and I fell forward, reaching for him, "Shane!"

"I'm not going to let anyone hurt you," he looked down at me, strength in his blue eyes. And just like that, he was gone.

He didn't realize that by trying to keep Sawyer from hurting me, he ended up hurting me more.

I was fucked.

~~~

For all of you who voted on the last part of this story, here's a chapter! I'd like to finish this story entirely, and I'm not sure if I'll be able to, but all the support definitely helps! I'm sorry that this has taken so long, and I'm sorry if it seems like my writing style has changed. It has kind of been a long time since I've written this story.

And as I promised, I'm going to start giving away dedications, six months later! This chapter goes out to @glamor_7 for a very sweet PM I got from her! So perhaps I'll keep the dedication thing going, let me know what you think, let me know if you'd like a dedication, and yeah!

Thank you all for dealing with me and my stupid things. And for sticking with this story for so long. I love you all. <3 <3 <3