Trigger warnings: swearing, abuse, violence

Y/N's POV
London was changing. Everyone could see it; people felt safer, there were less of those bastard Blighters lining the streets and that toxic 'Soothing Syrup' had finally stopped poisoning people's lives.

Y/N didn't care that much- what good did it do her?
She was still stuck here, worked to death in a bakery she didn't even own, getting payed dirt and nearly starved to death.

It was a pity her father was her boss- maybe if she'd had a different father her life would have been better. But as it was, her father was the only family she had left, and she was trapped with him.

The bakery itself wasn't that bad in Y/N's eyes; it was a simple kitchen and store front with tall ceilings and open windows allowing bright light to shine in, and the smell of freshly baked bread always clung to the air like a comforting blanket. Her father and her lived in the apartment above.
The only reason her father could afford a place like this was because he never paid her, and employed no one else.
As a result, Y/N was constantly isolated and lonely.
This morning was no different.
Waking up in the unholy hours of the morning to prepare bread was routine. Setting out the loaves and buns was normal, as was opening the windows and unlocking the doors.
What was unusual was the first customer who walked through her door.

And by 'walked', Y/N meant swaggered- with far too much authority for his skinny appearance.

Flicking her head up to glance at the man, Y/N flinched as she hurt her bruised neck.
"Can I help you?" She slowly asked with a raised eyebrow. The shop wasn't due to open for another hour.
Anxiously, she fiddled with the strap of her apron.

"Matter of fact, love, you can. We're 'ere to collect money." A different man spoke, a man who wore a red coat, had skin covered in filfth and a dirty guttural voice. He was built much more heavily than the small twig of a man who first entered, easily towering over Y/N, and swinging his broad shoulders jerkily.
Y/N hadn't noticed him enter, nor his other 3 friends, but now she recognised the party of 4 to be Blighters, all clothes in the bloodred garb of the gang.

Feeling prideful confidence, Y/N asked "Money? What for?", feigning ignorance.

"Protection, love. We own this neighbourhood, and you're selling your stinkin' bread in it, which means you owe us money. So pay up, before we take payment in other ways." The man sneered threateningly. All 4 men were arrogantly walking forwards, trapping Y/N in the kitchen as she backed up slowly.

Panic began to bubble in Y/N's throat but she didn't let it show- she could take a beating, her neck was proof. However, she knew what they meant by 'other' methods.
"No."
She shook her head and swallowed whilst continuing to move back, her hand wildly flailing for the saucepan she knew to be on the counter.
Behind the men, Y/N spotted a small girl enter the shop only to freeze. Y/N shook her head slightly, signalling Clara that she shouldn't come in. This was no place for her favourite customer right now.
Clara ran to get help.

"'No'?!" He repeated incredulously. "What the bloody hell d'you mean 'no'?"
The men increased their pace, getting dangerously close to her.
His yell brought Y/N's attention soaring back to him.

"Sorry, was I not clear enough for you dim-witted pillocks? Maybe I should rephrase it: no, I won't be giving you money, fuck off." Y/N yelled, releasing her pent up aggression on these gang members.
Immediate fear and regret followed. And maybe a slight strike of pride.
Swiftly followed by the forceful strike of her saucepan as she hit the first man, the skinny twig, on the head, knocking him out instantaneously.

Shock crossed Y/N's face at her own strength as she gaped at her hands, unknowingly giving the remaining 3 brawlers the opportunity to charge at her.
One of them, a scattily bearded animal of a man with wild eyes, tackled her to the ground, straddling her with his legs on either side of her shoulders before punching her directly in the face.

Her head slammed against the floor, making her vision blurry as she yelped in pain before clawing at her assailant's eyes. His knuckles had broken her nose, causing blood to flow from it and down into her mouth and up into her eyes.
"N-NO! Get OFF me! Grahhgg- get off me! Please!!"

"Shut up you filthy bitch! You didn't give us the money, so now we're taking payment!"

Y/N was violently coughing the blood up, flailing her arms in desperate defence and screaming with pain and fear, all whilst her vision was hindered by blood.

Jabbing her nails directly into the Blighter's eyes caused him to scream and fall off her, clutching at his face, only for the next man to take his place- this time squeezing his hands around her already-bruised throat after stomping brutally on her stomach.

"Stupid bitch! Think you can do somethin' like that and not be punished?" He said, tightening his grip, "Oh, I'll enjoy this."

Y/N was beginning to give up, as oxygen failed to enter her lungs and prying his hands away didn't work. Her face slowly purpled as he sneered at her.
Opening and closing her mouth she begged for air, for release, for mercy. None came.
She knew her father was upstairs and awake, yet he would never come down to save her. Her life was worthless in his eyes, and he'd rather save his own selfish skin.
No one was coming for her.
No one would help her.
Blackness engulfed her vision as her battered body fell unconscious...
Just before she could see the one man who did help her.

Jacob's POV
The pickings in the fight clubs were slim the night before- no real challenge for him. Hence, Jacob was still looking for outlets for adrenaline; hunting Blighter scum seemed like a good choice.
He'd been tailing a group of 4 Blighters as they swaggered up a street, intimidating those they passed by until they entered a bakery.
Greedy bastards, Jacob thought.
Spotting his favourite street-urchin after a while of surveying the area, he scaled down the side of the building he had been perched on. It was always a good idea to stay on top of local rumours, and Clara always had useful information for him.

Today however, she seemed stressed. Panic was obviously pumping through her veins as she frantically glanced around before spotting him. Her eyes lit up as if he was just the person she'd been looking for.
"Mr Frye!! Jacob, please, you must come with me!"  She begged.

Shock slapped Jacob; he'd never seen her so afraid, nodding immediately he began to run after her.
"What's going on?!" He yelled as they ran.

"The Blighters!! They're going to hurt Y/N!"

"'Y/N'? Who's Y/N?!" He confusedly yelled.

"No time to explain! Hurry!"

They continued to sprint until they reached the bakery Jacob had saw 4 gang members enter earlier. He told Clara to stay outside as he dealt with them.
Sensing trouble, he burst through the door only to hear a woman scream in pain before it was cut short.

"Bitch. Lads, take any money you can find as payment. We'll bring her with us for a bit of fun later." A man ordered from the floor as he lifted a battered form over his shoulder.

"I don't think you'll be going anywhere, boys." Jacob said.

Unsheathing his kukri, he flew into a flurry of steel and blood; within seconds, 3 of the 4 Blighters were dead. Jacob took notice that when he entered, it appeared that Y/N had fought one man into a recent state of unconsciousness, and nearly clawed the eyes out of another before being overwhelmed. Jacob swiftly ended their pathetic lives.

"W-who are you?!?" The last Blighter dropped the woman's body in fear as Jacob stalked over to his prey.

Rolling his eyes, Jacob gave the coward no reply before he slit his throat in one flick of the wrist.

Cleaning and returning his blade to its rightful place, Jacob worriedly knelt down to the woman he assumed to be Y/N.
Her matted hair and bruised face was covered in crimson blood, and her neck had a purple ring around it in the shape of a hand. Her closed eyes made her look peaceful, almost as if dead, yet she was still breathing.
Jacob brushed his hand over her form, quickly searching for any cuts he would need to immediately treat, yet before he could treat the 7 he found, Clara entered the blood-soaked bakery, looking around in caution before walking over to the pair. Jacob's brow was furrowed in worry for this stranger.

"We should get her to Miss Nightingale. She clearly took a beating and will need treatment. Can you carry her?"

In reply, Jacob nodded before lifting her frail figure into his arms bridal style, following Clara to a carriage.
As he walked, he was careful not to jostle his torso too much in case she had any broken bones.
Her head lulled against his chest, splattering fresh blood on his clothes but he didn't care.
Gently setting her in the carriage with her head in Clara's lap, Jacob took the reins and began the swift journey to Lambeth.

~time skip~

Jacob decided to stay with Clara and Y/N until she woke up, just to ensure that she was in fact on the road to recovery. Strangely, he felt a great deal of care and responsibility towards this stranger.
Asleep, Jacob could admire her soft beauty, with a kind face that he suspected hid a strong personality.
Sitting at her bedside, Clara was telling Jacob about Y/N, "...and every morning she gives me 3 loaves of bread for free. She cares for the children of Babylon Alley, even at the cost of her wellbeing; her father beats her. I know, even though she tries to hide it, I know he does it but not why. I'm not sure she even knows why. We cannot help her, yet she still helps us... She is the most selfless woman I know. Why would those Blighters do this to her?"

At the mention of her father beating Y/N, Jacob grew concerned, whilst the old bruise around her neck simultaneously made sense- it was inflicted by him. Choosing to deal with that monster later, Jacob answered Clara's tearful question: "I suspect they were trying to get protection money- that borough is technically theirs. Not for long though, I'll deal with that tomorrow, along with her father, don't worry."

Nodding thankfully, Clara allowed them to lull into a comfortable silence as they watched over Y/N, before breaking it with a whisper, "We should wash her hands, they're covered in blood. The nurses mustn't have noticed."

In a kind manner, they gathered the supplies to do so, and began gently cleaning her hands of her assailants' blood.

Y/N's POV
Waking up with a broken body was an uncomfortable, yet familiar sensation to Y/N. As her eyelids fluttered open and a groan of pain was emitted from her mouth, she became aware of someone washing her hands.
Weakly glancing over, she blinked at the sight of a strange man washing blood from her left hand. Turning her head again to see Clara washing her right hand brought their attention to her.

"Miss Y/N!" Clara exclaimed, "You're awake! How do you feel?"

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, only for a painful croak to come out. The effort felt as if her throat was being ripped out. Beginning to rise out of the bed with fear, Y/N glanced around in building panic at her foreign surroundings.
Clara turned to pour her some water.
A calloused hand pressed her shoulder back down to the pillow as another gently guides her hand away from her throat. Y/N looked over at the man.
He was tall, with broad shoulders and a handsome face. Scars ran across his eyebrow and cheek, and his hair looked as if he had been running his hands through it for a long time. Kind eyes blinked at her as he spoke, "Woah, easy, tiger. You need to rest, and not speak for a while in order for your throat to heal fully. You're in a hospital, Clara and I brought you here. I'm Jacob Frye, an assassin fighting to free London, and luckily for you, an acquaintance of Clara's."

Y/N relaxed after his helpful explanation, leaning back into the bed as she exhaled through her nose. She drank the soothing water Clara gave her.

"He saved you from the Blighters Y/N. Sauntered right in and killed them all." Clara said.

Y/N was impressed and thankful, nodding at him in gratitude due to her inability to speak, before he spoke:

"Well, there wasn't too much to do. She'd already dealt with half of them." He directed this at Clara, and then turned to Y/N, "An impressive feat for someone like you, with no training. You appear to have a natural talent, love."

He spoke with mirth and praise, bringing the first smile to Y/N's face in a long time as she silently grinned.
After a while of catching Y/N up on recent events, Clara mentioned to her Jacob's plans for the next day:
"Mr Frye here said he's going to free your borough tomorrow. Which means no more Blighters in our home- isn't that wonderful, Y/N!!?"
Y/N smiled widely and nodded in agreement.

Jacob interrupted them, "There's one more thing I plan to do tomorrow, with your blessing Y/N..."
He continued after she raised a quizzical eyebrow, "Your father. He's not a kind person, is he?"

Involuntarily, Y/N's eyes began to water as she had to look away, unable to meet his gaze in shame. She shook her head no.

"He hurts you, doesn't he?"

She shook her head yes.

"Then tomorrow he'll be leaving London forever. Dead or alive- his choice. Are you ok with that?"

She shook her head yes, finally relieved to be free of that wretched man.

Some time later, after Y/N was fully settled and had eaten dinner, Jacob saw Clara begin to yawn. Before leaving, Clara gave Y/N a gentle hug around the neck, being careful not to jostle her.
Before Jacob left an hour later, he gave the sleeping Y/N a kiss on the forehead.

~6 months later~

After their first encounter, Y/N and Jacob became inseparable. She had moved into the train he and his sister owned, and was warmly welcomed as a guest of Jacob's. Evie and her got on well, constantly teasing Jacob and Henry.
Her father had left for Scotland, and was never coming back.
The empty bakery was now being run by Y/N and the children of Babylon Alley; she had taught them all the useful skill of baking, and had employed them into what was now her business by law- the orphans turned out to be excellent workers and adored her for their new home and mother.

Jacob had begun to train Y/N in basic fighting skills, which were put to good use in the fight clubs; They always did win more fights when they fought together, however Jacob always jokily held over her the fact that he was better, much to Y/N's gleeful chagrin.

Oh, and she made sure to teach him how to bake as well- but made sure to make it known that her Babylon children were better, much to Jacob's mock annoyance that time.