darker_london | Like Looking into a Mirror and seeing Hell (Deirdre, Flynn)

Amelia was safe. Deirdre kept repeating that to herself over and over again in her head. The girl who and sought Deirdre's help so she could stop the sexual abuse she suffered at the hands of her own father was now safe. Deirdre had helped her, alongside Spectre. Amelia had been worried about the reactions of her older brother and her mother, but she needn't have. After Amelia's father had been arrested, Amelia's mother had burst into the police station, followed by the brother, and they had both hugged her tightly, repeating apologies and muttering over and over again that they hadn't known. And sure, it might have been a lie to keep them safe from the cops and they might have to prove it hadn't been a lie to the police, but Deirdre knew it to be genuine. Spectre was an angel. He could sense their motives, which were pure. Deirdre was a demon. And she felt their souls and she could see that there was no evil to be found. Sorrow, there was plenty of. But evil intent was absent.

Now the band was in Calgary, which was a beautiful city, but Deirdre was finding it hard to enjoy it. Amelia had been raped by her father for ten years. Deirdre knew how it felt. The circumstances of Deirdre's rapes were not the same, but seeing Amelia and hearing her story was still like looking into a mirror and seeing a terrifying reflection staring back at you. There was no concert for a few days, so Deirdre took the day off. And she curled up inside her hotel room, shoved up against the pillows for extra support. She didn't hear when Flynn re-entered the room, but she noticed when he set a box of candy on the bed beside her. "They're maple or something." He said softly. "For you."

Deirdre looked up at him and she gave him a tiny smile. "Thank you, Flynn."

Flynn nodded. "Maple's a bit of a weird thing, really. You got to wonder who decided to lick the shit that came out of a tree..."

Deirdre snorted then and she couldn't help but laugh. The way Flynn said things was so matter-of-fact. She adored him. "Well whomever did was clearly a genius." Deirdre insisted. "Because maple flavour rocks."

Flynn reached out and he patted Deirdre's leg. She didn't flinch away, which spoke volumes about how much she trusted Flynn. "It really does. Sometime remind me to tell you the story of your mother and the pancakes, okay?"

Deirdre raised her eyebrows and she nodded. "Deal..."

"You okay there, D?"

Deirdre reached out and her fingers curled around Flynn's strong hand. "I'm scared they'll come back sometimes." She whispered, as if 'they' might hear her and used her fear against her. "I'm afraid they'll come back and take me away again. Back to that place-"

Flynn shook his head and he looked down at the bedspread. The look on his face was an expression Deirdre hadn't seen him wear all that often, but she knew him well enough now to know what it meant. It was fear and determination and love all rolled into one. "They don't get to have you again." He said, his jaw set.

"But I just think...I don't want my fear to keep me away from all this..." Deirdre gestured around the hotel room with her free hand. "I love being in the band and touring and I don't want to give it up, but there's always so much going on backstage and they got me once and I'm so terrified sometimes, and-"

"They do not get to have you again." Flynn repeated, his voice slightly scary. He looked up at Deirdre and she recognised anger behind his expression for the first time...ever. It would have scared her, but she knew it wasn't directed at her, so she just watched him for a moment until he spoke again, the anger fading as quickly as it had manifested. "I've been watching." Flynn admitted. "As much as I can, I've been watching."

Deirdre hadn't known Flynn had been looking out for her, and her expression melted. "Oh, Flynn..."

"I am not losing someone I love." Flynn leaned forward to hug her fiercely. "If they try to take you away from me again, they're going to be facing one pissed off Irish bastard. And I know how to blow shit up."

Deirdre chuckled into Flynn's neck and she kissed him there before leaning back again. "One pissed off Irish bastard and one pissed off Irish demon, hmmm? Well...as long as they haven't tranqed me up like they did last time..."

"They wouldn't even get the chance." Flynn leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Deirdre, no one is going to hurt you on my watch."

"You're protecting demons now?" Deirdre asked cutely.

"I'm protecting Deirdre now." Flynn resolved. "After all, Deirdre protects me. Returning the favour only makes it fair."

Deirdre reached forward and she cupped Flynn's face with both her hands. "I love you, you know?"

Flynn nodded and he smiled at her. "I know. I love you too. Do you want to talk about how you're feeling?" Flynn knew hearing someone talk about being raped was going to bring out issues in Deirdre. Issues beyond just fear that it might happen again. "Or anything. We can do anything."

"No, talking's good." She pulled Flynn up to the top of the bed so he could lean against the pillows and then she leaned against him and she poured her soul out to him. He didn't talk much, but she didn't expect him too. What he did do, was stroke her hair the entire time. Nothing too obvious, but it was always there as a gentle reminder that she wasn't alone. Her past was just that. The past. And she was here now, safe with her friend.