(A/N: Trigger warning for this chapter, mentions of abuse. I'll put a bold asterisk where it starts and one where it ends)

"Hey, Kat, come on in!" Theo pulls the door open and grins at me. Her thick braid swings against her shoulder, and her smile is bright.

"Thanks." I adjust my duffel in my hand and walk inside.

Theo's house is fairly small, but it's pretty on the inside, all yellow walls with white furniture and bright colors everywhere. Her dad, Aaron, is sitting on the couch and reading a book. He smiles at us and takes off his reading glasses.

"Hey, Daddy-o." Theodosia flops down next to him.

"Hello, Theo- and this must be Kathryn." Aaron stands up and extends a hand to shake mine. "I'm Aaron Burr."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Burr." I smile and shake his hand, feeling a little silly. Shaking hands always seems awkward to me.

"Theo, you need to introduce me to your friend!" A fairly short woman descends the stairs, and my jaw drops. She's breathtakingly beautiful, with reddish-brown hair and hazel eyes. I've seen pretty people before, but this woman surpasses them all. She extends a pale hand for me to shake.

"I'm Kathryn," I say, feeling suddenly shy. "Kathryn Laurens-Hamilton. It's nice to meet you."

"It's very nice to meet you too, Kathryn. I'm Mrs. Burr, but you can call me Zia." Mrs. Burr- Zia, I guess- has a gentle voice, the sort that puts me at ease right away. For a fleeting moment, I wonder if this is what it's like to have a mom. The thought makes me feel a little guilty, and I bite my lip and look at the floor.

"Come on, Kat, you can bring your stuff upstairs to my room." Theo stands up and grabs a strap of my bag.

I walk beside her, smiling. "Your parents are really nice."

Theo's face lights up. "I like them." We reach a door at the top of the stairs, and she stops and turns to face me. "Now, my room is pretty small, and it doesn't have much in it. It isn't a lot, but it's mine." Her voice is almost defensive, and her hands are on her hips.

She wasn't lying, the room is small. The walls are a deep pink, nearly red, with hand-painted canvasses and posters everywhere. There's space for a twin bed, an easel and desk, and not much else. Looking closer, however, I can see details that remind me that this room is Theo's- tiny fairy lights wrapped around the bedframe, a little jar of wilted flowers on the desk.

"It's really nice," I say truthfully. "The paintings are beautiful."

Theo runs a hand over one of the paintings carefully. It's done in black and grey, and it's a bit of a melancholy picture. In the painting, a girl stands alone in front of a window, seen from the side. She has her forehead against the windowpane, and a tear is captured making its way down her cheek. Every flicker of light and drop of rain is highlighted in magnificent detail.

"That's beautiful," I say softly. "Who's the girl in the picture?"

"Me," Theo says shortly. There's a trace of sadness in her voice, but she shakes it off just as quickly. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know, what do you feel like doing?" I tug down the hem of my grey sweater. It's a little chilly in the Burr house.

Theo pulls down the sleeves of her own sweater. "I just got the most amazing new set of watercolors, so we could mess with those, if you wanted."

"Okay!"

Within a few minutes, we've got a full-blown art studio going on in the middle of the room. Two sketchpads on two easels, a giant tray of watercolor paints and about a million brushes on her desk between us. I'm doing a simple painting of a turtle, to give to John for his birthday, but Theo is making a complicated rainbow out of words and flowers.

We've got the old High School Musical soundtrack blasting, and we're singing a pretty terrible rendition of Bop to the Top- neither Theo nor I can sing worth anything. Her voice has a potential to grow up to be a good voice, but mine is so crackly and awkward that I don't think I'll ever be very good. I don't care, though, and we happily belt along.

Aaron throws open the door, and we both scream. He laughs. "Sorry, I knocked three times. You must not have heard me."

That would be an understatement. Theo and I were very into our song, and I'm dipping her tango-style. She's got a paintbrush clamped between her teeth, and I have a tissue box perched on my head as a hat.

"Dinner's ready, at any rate." Aaron grins at us, then closes the door and descends the stairs.

As soon as he's gone, we collapse on the floor, laughing hysterically. Theo has the paintbrush stuck in her hair, and there's a piece of tissue attached to my forehead. We look like a hot mess, which we most definitely are.

*******************

I'm not sure what, but something jolts me awake in the middle of the night. The light seeping in under the curtains is deep blue, as if we're underwater. The house is cold, and my sleeping bag is pulled up to my chin.

"N-no!" Theo's voice rings out, and I look over at her. She's curled up into a ball, with one hand up over her face, as if she's trying to block a strike. Her whole body is shaking, and there are tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Theo." I crawl across the floor and over to her bed, then shake her gently. "Theo, you're dreaming. Wake up."

She flails at my touch, shoving my arm away. "Stop!" Her eyes are still firmly closed.

"Theo, wake up!" I'm scared now.

Theo suddenly jerks up, opening her eyes. Her breath is shaking, and I can practically hear her heartbeat.

*

"What happened, Theo?" I take her hand. Her pulse is going at a million miles a minute.

When she speaks, her voice is hitching and broken. "M-my mom- no, my mother-" She buries her face in her arms. I wrap my arms around her and hold her close.

"Don't talk, just breathe. It's going to be okay- I'm here for you."

After a moment, Theo looks up to me with wet eyes. "I had a nightmare about my family." Seeing my expression, she elaborates. "My old family, I mean."

"Oh, Theo, I'm so sorry."

She shakes her head. "I can't call it a nightmare, I guess- more of a memory. I came home with a bad grade in English one day, I was nearly flunking third grade. My mother found it, and she started yelling at me. She told me it was because I wasn't good enough. She said that I would never be good enough, no matter what I did. It was the worst day...worse than when she hit me, worse than when I didn't get dinner.

"Cuts and bruises mostly go away, but I don't think I'll ever get those words out of my head- or those marks off my arms." Theo pushes up her sleeves, and even in the greyish light of not-quite-morning, I can see them. There are scars lacing a path up her arms, thin and white. Some of them are flat, but some are puckered and angry-looking.

I hold her arm, carefully running a hand over it. "I- oh, Theo..." I pull her against me for a hug.

"I know." She sighs. "The scars are ugly- that's why I wear sweaters all the time. I feel like, if anyone saw them, they would think that I was worthless. That I was as ugly as my scars."

*

"Theo, look at me." She turns, and I take her hands in mine. "You are beautiful." She opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. "No matter how much you're hurting, no matter how much you've suffered in the past, it doesn't change how amazing you are. Please, don't be one of those people that becomes their scars, because you're so much more than that.

"Those scars? They're a sign of how brave you are. Bravery is beautiful. Never let anyone say you aren't, because you are the bravest and most beautiful person I know."

Theo starts to cry softly, and I just hold her close. After a few moments, she stops, and her breathing evens out. She's asleep. I fall asleep beside her, but just as I'm about to drift off, I hear her whisper.

"Thank you."

A/N: Hey guys, thank you so much for almost 5k reads! I'm really happy, and you will be, too- once we hit 5k, you get a bonus chapter! Also, if you're having a similar experience to Theo's, please know that you are strong and fantastic and we are all here for you.