Chapter Text
How, in the ever-loving fuck, had Gwen let this happen? It was a dinner, just one stupid dinner, and somehow she had managed to thoroughly ruin everything. She’d been to countless family dinners in her life, most of them blurring into one long boring memory, so she had known what to expect. All she’d had to do was nod, and smile, and answer any questions politely thrown her way in the vaguest manner possible. It wasn’t a hard task, and yet she had totally and utterly cocked it up.
Why the hell had it bothered her so much? It had been her mother, that was why. They’d been getting along so well all night, or at least not verbally beating each other, and all it took was that one off-hand comment and everything went tits up. Had she really fallen so far? Was that all it took now? It was pathetic.
The whole left side of her face stung. She was almost certain that one of her father’s rings had cut her cheek, or maybe that was just tears she could feel running down. From the pain, she told herself, the shock. Not because it upset her. She forced herself not to reach up a hand and check.
Just her luck, it was raining. It was almost cinematic: the climax of the film where the main character makes a bold stand and storms out into the rain. Only, in a film, there would be someone waiting outside in a car ready to take her home. All she got was drenched by a passing bus.
Hot tears pooled in her eyes, but the thought of crying on her parents’ front step was dreadful enough that she made herself walk. Her clothes stuck to her skin, hair plastered to her forehead. Every gust of wind sent chills across her whole body and set her teeth chattering. Already she could feel the back of her head starting to throb from the effort of holding back her tears, and she knew that by the time she got home it would turn into a pounding headache.
In her despair, she kicked lamely at a rock, and promptly felt even worse when it only travelled a few centimetres at best. Anger clawed inside her chest like a trapped scream, and she forced herself to keep walking, eyes trained solely on the floor, placing one foot in front of the other.
She hadn’t gotten far when she walked straight into someone walking determinedly in the opposite direction. For a horrifying moment, Gwen remained pressed against that person’s chest until she was able to step back and get her bearings.
Oh fuck no. No. Anyone else, literally anyone else.
“Jesus, Gwen, decided to go for a swim?” Alice asked, laughing a little as she readjusted her coat. Her eyes wandered over Gwen’s face, and her eyes noticeably lingered on what was almost definitely a crimson-red mark. Her expression shifted very quickly into something much more serious. “Are- are you alright?” Her tone was uncharacteristically gentle, and for some ungodly awful reason that made Gwen want to sob. Why did it have to be Alice? Why couldn't it be anyone else?
She forced the swell of emotions deep down inside her and straightened up, brushing some of her hair out of her face. So what if Alice saw? At least Gwen would be showing that it hadn’t rattled her, that she was stronger than that, that she wasn’t some weak little girl anymore. “Yes, no thanks to you,” she muttered crossly, or as crossly as she could manage. “You should watch where you’re going.” The retort didn’t have its usual venom, but Gwen couldn’t bring herself to care that much. She just wanted this interaction to be over with as quickly as possible so she could go home and forget that anything had ever happened.
If Alice was put off, she didn’t show it, just rolled her eyes a little and shook her head like she was disappointed. God, even the notion of it set Gwen’s nerves on fire. Alice Dyer? Disappointed in her? That would be a whole new low. She wanted to scream.
“Gwen?” Alice’s face was pinched in concern, and Gwen realised she must have been asked a question. Had she just zoned out? What the hell was wrong with her? And why the hell was Alice still there?
“What?” she asked sourly, lips pursed.
“I asked if you needed a lift, or, I don’t know, an umbrella? Homeless shelter?” Her lips quirked up into a tiny smile, but there was still that underlying concern, that damnable pity. “Seriously, you’ll catch your death out here like this.” Her eyes flicked again Gwen’s cheek, and a volatile mixture of shame and fury swirled in her stomach.
Swallowing the lump in her throat and trying to wrap her head around the idea of needing Alice Dyer’s help, Gwen found herself laughing. Not a proper laugh, and certainly not a happy laugh, but it was a laugh-y sort of sound. She couldn’t stop it. It tumbled out, half choked and ridiculous. It was all so ridiculous. First the humiliation at dinner, and this. Alice bloody Dyer seeing her at her absolute lowest.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and she stepped quickly back, shaking her head. “I’m fine,” she managed, clearing her throat and trying to gain some semblance of self-control again.
Alice’s face flitted somewhere between worry and annoyance, and she shifted on her feet, still frowning. “Seriously, Gwen. You can’t walk in this.”
It was Gwen’s turn to get annoyed. Who did Alice think she was, waltzing around so late at night, right at her lowest, and offering her help? What gave her the gall to see Gwen in this state and try and get some kind of upper hand?
She scowled darkly, swallowing the lump that had formed in the back of her throat. “No, Alice, I do not need your help,” she spat, the anger in her chest finally having a target to be directed at. It felt terribly and horribly good to turn it all against someone else. “I don't need yours or anyone else's help!”
Her words made Alice flinch a little, and it brought her a sick sort of satisfaction. “Alright, calm down Princess, I was just offer-”
“Don’t fucking call me that!” Gwen yelled, suddenly ten years old again and wanting to run far away from this conversation. Despite the slight animosity she held for Alice, she knew this wasn’t fair, but knowing that didn’t make it any easier. She needed to shout, so she did. “Shut the fuck up! Is that something you know how to do? Or is it just some innate fault that you are incapable of having any tact whatsoever?” Her chest was heaving now, fists shaking by her sides. She’d never actually yelled at Alice before. Mouthed off at her, yes. Snapped and jabbed, also yes. But never this.
She couldn’t stop herself. Damn that she was in public, and damn that she was going to have to see Alice again at work. “Why the fuck are you even here?” she pressed on, taking a step closer, but Alice didn’t back away. “Why do you care? Do you take joy in seeing me like this?” She laughed again, sadder, and let her shoulders slump, head hanging down.
For a long few moments Alice was silent. Everything was silent, apart from the hammering rain and the cars splashing past them. It was weird. Alice wasn’t meant to be quiet. Alice was supposed to yell back, or say something nasty or do anything other than just stare at Gwen like she was a lost kitten.
Gwen looked up as she seemed to piece something together, and Alice’s jaw went slack. “You had dinner with your parents tonight,” she said flatly, not a question. “You– you took tonight off because you had a dinner– Gwen, Jesus Christ, what happened?” Alice took a half-step forward, and Gwen was overcome with terror at the thought that she might try and reach out for her.
Instinctively, she took a step back, glaring. “Piss off. I don’t need your– your pity, or your help, or whatever this is.” Trying to get a hold of herself, Gwen moved to walk around the other woman, but was promptly blocked by her body.
Taking her by the shoulders, Alice held her firmly in place. Her expression was something that Gwen couldn’t name even if she tried, but it made her want to squirm all the same. “Hold your horses,” Alice began, her voice stern. “I’m not pitying you or anything like that. I’m just… I don’t know, worried? I’ve heard what you’ve said about your parents sometimes and I–” She looked almost shy suddenly, embarrassed. “You’re clearly not in a good state, either way, and your flat is ages away from here.”
Gwen crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest and did her best impression of someone who was passably fine. The combination of the rain, her outburst, and the mark on her cheek made that nearly impossible, but she soldiered on regardless. “So what? I’ve walked further than that before.”
Finally, Alice seemed to lose her patience a little. “That’s not the point, dipshit. Just– let me drive you home. Don’t want Lena up my arse if you get killed in a storm.”
Gwen wanted very badly to tell her to go fuck herself, or something equally as crass, but she was cut off by a very well-timed crack of lightning, followed swiftly by a roll of deafening thunder that made the choice for her.
They walked as far away from each other as physically possible on the way to Alice’s car. It wasn’t a long walk, but it dragged on for what felt like hours. The rain only got heavier, and even Alice, wrapped snugly in her coat, was pretty much soaked by the time they reached where she had parked her car.
It was surprisingly tidy inside, though there were a few wrappers stuffed messily into the cupholder. Even so, Gwen didn’t have it in her to make any remarks. It would have just made her look even more pathetic than she already did. How was she ever going to come back to work after this? She’d have to disappear, change her name and start a whole new life just to escape the humiliation.
She mindlessly gave Alice her address, and for the entirety of the journey they sat in a vaguely hostile silence. Something played on the radio, too quiet to hear properly under the constant droning of the storm, and Alice drove carefully and slowly.
Gwen was loath to admit it, but she felt a twinge of gratitude for Alice offering to drive her home. The rain didn’t let up at all, got heavier, even, and it took a solid twenty minutes of driving to arrive outside Gwen’s apartment.
They sat in silence for a long few seconds, neither one of them moving. Gwen knew she had to get out, she couldn’t stand being sat there any longer, but Alice wasn’t even looking at her anymore. The drive had cooled her anger down to its embers, and she understood the severity of what she had said. She didn’t particularly like Alice, but she had been too cruel this time.
“Thank you,” she managed finally, though couldn’t bring herself to lift her gaze from her lap. “I… appreciate you driving me.” The words felt awkward in her mouth, but she owed at least that to Alice, no matter how annoying and insensitive she was.
There was a long pause before Alice answered. “Don’t mention it. Lena would’ve bollocked me if she knew I let you drown in this weather.” Her words were lighthearted, but her tone had a heaviness to it that Gwen hadn’t heard before.
A part of her was tempted, just a little, to apologise. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she pushed them down when she caught a glance of herself in the passenger side mirror. She had been right; her father’s ring had cut her, only slightly, but it was still bleeding a little. The surrounding area was a furious red that was sure to turn into a nasty bruise in the coming days. Her hair was sopping wet and dripping rain water down her face, makeup smeared from tears and rain. In short, she was a mess. Apologising in this state would only make her look weaker. It was out of the question.
Without another word, she ducked out of the car and walked quickly to her building, trying to fight the urge to look back the whole way. She heard the car start back up again as she reached the door and stepped inside. The door closed, and it was silent.
***
Gwen spent the rest of her evening sorting herself out. She cleaned and iced the injury on her face, had a strong drink, and gathered her things for work the next night. For a long time she just stared at herself in the mirror, inspecting her face. Some of the mascara had stubbornly refused to be wiped from under her eyes, and she settled for going to bed looking like a sad panda.
When she woke up to her alarm the following evening, she realised the one critical thing she had forgotten to do the previous night. How had she forgotten to take her hair out? French plaits had seemed like such a good idea for the dinner, and she had managed to get them perfectly even before going out. Even now, they were still relatively intact, but that left her with only two real options: either go into work with slightly frizzy plaits and get weird looks all day, or take them out and deal with the frizzy, half-curled mess she knew they would be.
She didn’t have the time to dally about the decision, and decided it would be safer to just leave them as they were and pray that they remained presentable through her shift. As she got dressed, she pointedly ignored the pile of screwed up clothes on her floor and the glass on her bedside table, telling herself that she would sort it all out when she was home again after work.
The only thing she took any real care with was her makeup. She was hardly a stranger to covering up her parent’s little outbursts, but the cut posed some difficulty to hide, especially since Alice already knew it was there, and with how nosy she was Gwen was certain that she’d be looking for the mark.
The makeup did its job, though, and there was no sign of the reddish-purple bruise forming on her cheek by the time she was done. She looked decent. Presentable. Certainly not like she had just had the most humiliating night of her life less than twenty-four hours ago.
As usual, she was the first to arrive aside from Lena, who already had her office door firmly shut. Just as well, Gwen didn’t think she could handle any incessant hovering on top of the fact that her plaits were already starting to loosen near the ends.
The others slowly trickled in – Sam first, followed quickly by Celia – and she prayed that her shift would just go quietly by without incident, and that Alice would refrain from being herself for once.