Demi

It had been a normal day. Wilmer and I woke up wrapped around each other, intent on spending the day in a similar state. It was rare we had the same day off, so when we did we tried to make the most of it. Until, the knock on the door sounded and Eveline Davis showed up.

I knew who the little girl was the moment I saw her. There was no mistaking those brown eyes; a mirror image of my father's, and my own. I saw the bruises on her wrists, and the way her eyes darted around the room, as if she was still waiting for Patrick to come out and drag her back. I saw the four year old I used to be, and it brought back memories too painful to think about.

But I saw the look on Wilmer's face; he had always been a sucker for a charity case. It was the basis of our entire relationship. He never turned down the chance to help somebody, and it was why I loved him so much, why he was such a better person than me.

So I signed the papers, and now I was hiding in my office as Wilmer made dinner for all of us, Emily sitting on the counter and watching him. I didn't want to be around her, all it made me think of was my experiences with my dad, the times he had hurt and my mom, the times he had stood there and watched as others hurt me.

"Demi?" I looked up from the window and saw Wilmer standing in the doorway. "Dinner's ready."

"Okay." I forced a smile and walked over, he kissed my forehead and put his arm around my shoulders. "What did you make?"

"Pasta with chicken. I don't know what she likes, really. I think the only thing your dad fed her was pizza and frozen food. I don't think she's ever really had real home-cooked food."

I sighed and nodded. "He was never much of a cook."

"Are you okay?" Wilmer stopped walking and turned to look at me. "I know this is hard for you, but she's just a kid. I couldn't let her just go into the system now that we know about her. I would feel so guilty."

"I'm fine. I know your reasons Wilmer, and I'm not saying I don't feel the same way. I want to help her, but it's too hard to be around her. She's exactly like I was when I was a kid, too afraid to even step on the carpet in case you got hit for getting it dirty. I did the same thing when I went to Eddie's house for the first time, and I spilled Kool Aid all over his white couch. The similarities are too much to handle right now."

Wilmer pulled me into his arms and his lips pressed against my temple. "I know she brings back memories, but maybe that's a good thing. Maybe helping her will help you work through your issues with what Patrick did to you."

"Maybe, or maybe it'll make it worse."

Wilmer pulled away and raised one eyebrow. "Well there's only one way to find out."

Emily sat across from me during dinner, while Wilmer sat at the head of the table. She kept her eyes down on her food, clumsily using the too-big fork to spear pasta, chicken and broccoli into her mouth. It was cute, but it also made me sad thinking of all of the things my father had deprived this little girl of.

"Is Kelsey coming to bring her clothes?"

I glanced at Wilmer and nodded. "She's at Target now getting some basics, when she knows her size and there's more time we'll go shopping again."

"What about the paparazzi?"

"They're going to find out about her at some point." I sighed, and looked at Emily, catching her staring at me before her eyes widened and she looked back down at her food. "We just have to figure out what to say."

"The truth?"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "No comment for right now. The truth is too messy, and they'll splash her across every gossip site in the world. At this point, we just keep it to ourselves, and don't make any statement."

"That won't work for long."

"We don't need it to." I cut my eyes over to him. "We only need it to work for three months."

Wilmer glared at me, and I glanced at Emily who had put her fork down, and I could see her teeth digging into her lower lip. My stomach twisted in guilt, but I just continued to eat, not looking at either of them. I could still feel Wilmer's stare on me, but I just finished what was on my plate and stood up.

"Kelsey should be here soon, I'll call her."

I walked into the kitchen and put my dishes in the sink, but when I turned around Wilmer was waiting for me.

"Was that really necessary?"

"What?" I moved around him and took a water bottle from the fridge. "This isn't permanent, Wilmer. We made that agreement, that's why I signed the papers."

"But you don't have to say it in front of her. You've already made it pretty clear to her that you don't want anything to do with her, and she's had that feeling towards everyone around her, her whole life." He was getting loud now, waving his arms as his accent got thicker. "That kid has been through a lot of shit Demi, the least you could do is pretend to be nice to her."

"You don't think I know she's been through shit? I went through it too! I know what it's like to be that monster's daughter, but excuse me if I don't want to have flashbacks of him beating the crap out of my mom and me every time I look at her!"

"But that's your issue with your dad. You can't take this out on an innocent child, I won't let you."

"You won't let me?" My eyebrow raised. "What are you gonna do?"

"I'll take her to the Tarzana house."

I chuckled and shook my head. "You wouldn't do that."

"Yeah?" He stepped forward, crossing his arms and looking down into my eyes unblinking. "Try me."

I stared back at him, crossing my arms over my chest too. Wilmer was angry- angrier than I had seen him in a long time. We never really fight, mostly because both of us hate the consequences. It's not worth winning the argument if we lose each other in the process.

"You're not going to leave. You wouldn't."

"This isn't about you and me anymore. This is about a child, and the psychological torture she's been under her entire life. I'm not going to let you continue to do that to her. Either you get a grip, and at least pretend to be nice, or you bet your ass I'll leave."

"That's below the belt." I snarled. "What happened to no more ultimatums? They didn't work out well for us last time, unless you don't remember us almost getting a divorce because you didn't want me to go on tour?"

"This isn't about you and me." He repeated. "Demi, she's just a kid."

"She's his kid!"

"So are you."

I stepped away from him and shook my head. "Go then, I'll pack you a suitcase."

I turned on my heel and walked away, moving quickly down the hall and into our bedroom. I began to cry the moment I closed the door. I walked to the closet and pulled down one of Wilmer's suitcases, then began to pack his clothes, wet drops falling from my eyes staining his shirts. After about five minutes, the door opened, and arms came around my waist.

"Stop." He murmured gently, as I shoved clothes at random into the bag. "Demi, stop."

"No." My teeth came together with a snap. "You want to go? Go."

He tugged me away from the clothes and I turned around in his arms, trying my best to glare at him through my red-tinged teary eyes. Wilmer tilted his head and pushed out his lower lip, pouting at me. That was usually a sign from one of us that we wanted the fight to be over, at least for the night. I leaned my head forward to rest against his chest and wrapped my arms around his middle, letting out a deep breath as Wilmer hugged me back, his lips pressing against my forehead.

"Let's resume tomorrow." He murmured, rubbing my back. "I'm not going anywhere baby, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too." I whispered, my cheek squished against the dip in his chest. "It's just hard... I don't expect you to understand, I don't even understand it. Being around her... It's like I can't breathe. It's like I'm a little kid again and my father is right around the corner. I hate feeling like I'm unsafe in my own house."

"You're worried he's going to try and come for her? And for you?"

"It's a possibility." I sighed. "He did that a few times when we moved in with Eddie, my dad used to show up and stand on the lawn for hours threatening to break in. It was terrifying."

"Hey." He pulled away and held my face in his hand, looking at me with complete seriousness. "I'm not gonna let him touch you, or her, okay? You don't have anything to worry about. We're in a very safe neighborhood, with twenty four hours security. If it'll make you feel safer, I can hire personal guard for you, Emily, and the house."

I nodded, leaning into his hand. "I love you."

"I love you too. I know it's hard to be around her, but you have to get past the part about her being Patrick's daughter. She's a little kid, who's been hurt and is probably really scared."

"I know, I know."

"Good." He kissed my forehead and pulled me into another hug. "I'm not saying you have to be her mom, I'm just asking you to be nice."

I sniffled and looked up at me. "But you're acting like her dad... And I can't give you that."

"Is that what this is about?" He was back to holding my face. "Demi, we don't know anything for sure."

"I know. I know that, but I see you with her, and I can't help but picture you as a dad. You have no idea how sad it makes me that there's a big possibility I can't give you that."

Wilmer and I have been having issues with me getting pregnant for a while now. I desperately wanted a family, and I knew Wilmer did too. No matter how many times he told me he was content with just me, and that it didn't matter if I couldn't have kids, I knew he wanted one. Before we started having issues he would talk for hours about how excited he was to have a family with me, and how he couldn't wait to see my belly grow. Now though, the subject was taboo. We still tried, but it was almost unspoken, like neither of us wanted to fully accept that we wouldn't be having children on our own.

"Demi you have given me everything and more. Baby, me wanting to help Emily has nothing to do with our issues with having kids. It's not related at all, I promise you."

I sighed and leaned back into his body. We stayed in each other's embrace for a few minutes, then he kissed my forehead and pulled away.

"I left Emily on the couch watching some disney show, we should probably get back down there."

I nodded and wiped at my eyes. "You're right... I'm sorry for getting so mad at you."

"I'm sorry for threatening to leave." He murmured, and leaned down to kiss me for a long moment. "I love you."

"I love you too."

We walked downstairs and found Emily sitting on the couch, right where Wilmer left her. She wasn't watching TV though, her eyes were trained on her shoes. I grimaced when I saw the dirty boots, and quickly texted Kelsey to remind her to pick up new ones while she was at the store.

"Hey Emily." Wilmer sat down next to her. "You don't want to watch TV?"

"I'm not allowed to." She explained, like it was obvious.

"Who told you that?"

"Daddy." She answered simply, and innocently.

"Yeah? Guess what? I say that you're allowed to. Daddy isn't the boss anymore."

Emily eyes widened into huge circles. "What?"

"Whatever daddy told you, it's probably wrong. You can do whatever you want to, okay? If it's wrong, I'll tell you."

She just stared at him, as if the thought of doing anything our of her own free will was a shocking idea. I looked down and walked away, silently cursing my father for the mental blocks he had instilled in this little girl.

I stood in the kitchen, staring out the window, listening to Wilmer explain the TV show he was trying to get Emily to watch. Slowly, my hand came down to my stomach and I looked down, sighing at it's flatness. I wanted a baby, I want to have a family with Wilmer more than anything in the world. I didn't know what part Emily would play in that family. Would she grow up calling me Demi? Would she eventually call me her mom? Do I want her to call me her mom? Do I want her to call Wilmer her dad?

I was inexplicably angry with my father all over again. A product of his nightmarish hell of a life had yet again leeched into my own happiness in the form of a broken little girl I was now expected to love. I had finally broken free of him. I'd changed all the numbers, gotten the necessary restraining orders against him, and had put my past behind me. Then a truckload of my past demons and issues came and showed up at my door, and I had no choice but to let them in.

About an hour later my phone buzzed; Kelsey telling me she was here with the clothes. I walked to the front door and saw Emily and Wilmer engrossed in some cartoon on the TV. Kelsey was waiting outside, carrying bags and bags of clothes.

"This shit's heavy, lemme in." She said immediately and I laughed before stepping aside.

She dropped the bags on the floor with a loud thud and out of the corner of my eye I saw Emily jump a foot in the air, her eyes wild as she saw Kelsey. Kelsey followed my gaze and her gasp was audible.

"Demi... She looks..."

"I know." I sighed. "Just like me."

"It's almost scary."

I pressed my lips together and nodded. "Terrifying."

I led her up to Emily's room and together we unpacked the clothes, folding them neatly and putting them into drawers. When we were finished, we walked back downstairs and into the living room. Emily's eyes met mine for a moment before she quickly looked away and towards Kelsey.

"Hi Emily." Kelsey said, in a gentle voice. She knelt down and smiled. "My names Kelsey."

"Hi."

"I work for Demi... It's really good to meet you."

Again Emily eyes flickered to me. "Hi."

Kelsey stood back up and glanced at me. "Alright, I'll see you tomorrow Demi, you've got a few photo shoots, pickup at eleven."

"Got it." I walked her to the door and sighed once we were out of earshot from Emily. "See what I mean?"

"She's just scared." Kelsey said, opening the door. "Hell, I'd be scared too. You're taken away from an abusive home, and stuck into a place you've never been to, expected to live with two people you've never met. It gets harder when one of the those people is acting like they hate you."

"I'm not acting like I hate her." I defended myself. "It's just difficult."

"I know, but remind yourself that no matter how difficult it is for you, it's harder for her. You're my boss Demi, but as your friend, you need to do the right thing."

Kelsey left and I went back into the living room. Emily looked up immediately but Wilmer stayed with his eyes on the TV, more interested in the kid's show than the actual kid was.

"Hey Emily..." When I spoke he looked up, his eyes surprised. "Do you mind coming with me? I want to see if the clothes we got fit you."

Emily sat there for a second, then she nodded, sliding off the couch and walking up to me. She stared at the floor as we walked up the stairs to her bedroom, and when I opened the closet door to reveal the huge selection of clothes her eyes went huge.

"You don't have to try on everything." I tried to reassure her. "We just need to know your size. First, you need a bath." 

"It's only six counts." She said in a small voice. "I have to wait for seven." 

"Counts? Do you mean days?" 

She nodded. "Daddy says the water will run out if I don't wait for seven counts." 

"Well, now you can take a bath whenever you want." I tried to keep the emotion out of my voice, but it was hard. "The water will never run out." 

"Really?" 

"Really." I led her to the bathroom and she fingered at the hem of her shirt, her eyes darting from me to the floor. "Do you want me to leave?" 

Emily shook her head, but kept her eyes on the ground. "I'm not supposed to show people." 

"Show people what?" 

She visibly struggled for the words, then she slowly lifted up her shirt to show me her stomach and I nearly turned for the toilet to vomit. There were bruises all over her, some old and yellow, some a fresh deep purple. There were circular scars too, the unmistakable burn of cigarettes branded onto her abdomen. 

"Oh my God." I whispered, unable to help myself, and reached out to trace the bruises. When my fingertip grazed the fresh burns, she stepped out of my reach. "I'm sorry." I murmured. "I'm so sorry. It's okay, honey, take the shirt off." 

Emily slowly lifted the shirt the rest of the way off, and you could see the extent her ribs were poking through, having none of the usual baby fat you saw on kids her age.

"Turn around, let me see the other side."

She turned around and my hand slowly came up to cover my mouth in horror. Her back was even worse than her front, full-size handprint shaped bruises covered her skin. Dotted around her shoulders were more burns. I swallowed hard and gently turned her around to help her out of the overalls, then got her into the water. I soaped up a washcloth, hesitated again at the bruises, then began to wash off the layer of crime that covered her. Emily stayed quiet the whole time, only shaking her head when I asked if anything hurt. The bath water turned brown so I drained the tub, then refilled it and started on her hair. It was matted in the back, I doubt she'd brushed it in a long time. I worked on it with a comb until it was knot-free, then helped her out and wrapped her in a towel. Some of the burns were fresh, so I told her to wait while I got bandaids for them. Wilmer was walking out of his office and he stopped when he saw the expression on my face. 

"What is it?" 

"I..." I shook my head and looked back at the open door then lowered my voice. "Go look at her, look at what he did to her." 

Wilmer's eyebrows hitched together and he walked into the room as I went into the bathroom to get the bandages. I glanced into the mirror and saw my stony expression morph into the same expression on Emily's face. I had seen those scars on my mother's hipbone, tiny dots I used to poke as a kid and laugh. I hadn't understood until I was older who inflicted them, and it made me sick to think about. 

Wilmer had a murderous expression when I came back into the room and he quickly walked out again. I sat down in front of Emily and tried to smile as I put Neosporin and bandages on the burns. When I finished, I picked out the softest pajama set I could find, and helped her into it. 

"Do you feel better now?" 

She nodded, and reached up to feel the back of her head where the matted hair used to be. "Daddy broke my brush, I'm sorry it was knotty." 

"You don't need to apologize, Emily. Don't ever apologize for something your daddy did." I could feel a lump forming in my throat so I cleared it. "Does anything hurt right now?"

She shook her head, looking down again. Before I could stop myself I lifted her head with my finger under her chin, looking into her eyes, a replica of the monster that did this to her. I swallowed hard and looked at the shirt.

"This one fits, good. That's all we need to know. How about we go watch some more TV?" 

She walked down to the living room with me, her hand kept darting up to feel the fabric of her new clothes, then to the back of her neck to run through her hair. Every time it cracked the cold resolution I had to not grow attached to her. 

I knew it was cruel, but I had packed away the trauma of my childhood in a tiny box and shoved it into the back of my mind never to see the light of day. With Emily here, the box had been dumped out and the sun shone down on my worst memories. I knew it wasn't her fault, that I should be blaming my father- and I did, but all of the similarities between Emily and I was making my head spin. 

I left her on the couch to go into the kitchen, and Wilmer was there pouring a glass of water. He handed it to me, and I sat down at the counter. 

"It's worse." I whispered. "What he did to her... it's worse than me. He burned her, Wilmer, so many times." 

"I know." He wrapped his arms around me and held me in an unyielding grip. "But he's never going to be able to hurt her again. He's going to go to jail for a long time." 

"That doesn't change the fact that it still happened, and she's going to remember it for the rest of her life. Look at her! She would even look at you until you have her permission. That kind of... twisted obedience? It's not something we're going to be able to fix. She needs people who know how to take care of her." 

"Baby, you're thinking about this wrong." Wilmer kissed the top of my head and rubbed my back. "You know at least part of what she's been through, you've been through every kind of therapy in the book. The social worker said she wouldn't even let the doctor see what was under her shirt, and she showed you. You can't send her away now, she's just a kid. All she needs is someone to love her." 

"What if I can't do that?" 

"You can, and you will." Wilmer lifted my chin with his fingertip so I met his eyes. "You can, and you will."

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-Rachel