Savior | ?*REWRITE*? MELLO X OC

A/N: A bit of a longer chapter of younger Willow and Mail, Tw for child abuse & drug mention/overdose

Willow, age 6 (1996)

"Dad, what's wrong with mom?" Mail yells from somewhere in the house, and I leave my bedroom quietly to see what's wrong. If I get caught, daddy might get mad again that I left my room. They don't like when I leave. Mail is crouched down next to her in the living room, mommy fell asleep on the floor again! I step away from the broken glass on the gross carpet, I don't wanna get glass in my foot again.

"Whaddya say, Mail?" Dad sounds angry as he steps into the living room from their bedroom, holding a bottle of beer again. He always has one, and he smells bad. Like a wet dog. I stay hidden by the corner of the wall, peaking out and watching daddy roll mommy over. Ew, she threw up again! There's something sticking out of her arm too.

"She's not waking up, dad." Mail says innocently, still tired from listening to them fight all night. It's still dark outside, I don't know what time it is. Dad's panicking, and calling someone on the phone. He looks scared, and so does Mail.

I run to the laundry room to grab a towel, they're all still a little dirty but that's okay. They don't do laundry anymore, and it smells like mildew inside. The rain is leaking down the walls, and it's really cold.

Running to mommy, I crouch down next to her and rub away the sickness on her face. Her black hair is sticking to the puke stuck to her cheek, but mommy needs to be cleaned up.

"It's okay mommy, I get sick too sometimes." I tell her, and move her hair by her shoulder. I clean her up the best I can while daddy yells on the phone, and I'm trying not to cry. They smack me if I cry, and that only makes me cry harder. Why isn't mommy waking up? And why is daddy yelling so much? He always yells, but it's usually at us.

"She fucking overdosed! Just send a goddamn ambulance, the needle is stickin' out of her fuckin' arm!" Daddy screams so loud it makes me jump, and he hangs up the landline and steps towards us. He pushes me out of the way, cursing at me as my hand lands in glass. I wince in pain, and blood is pouring down my hand now. Daddy throws his beer bottle at the wall, and as the glass breaks everywhere it makes me jump again.

"Don't you start fucking crying, Tree." Dad mutters at me, calling me that dumb nickname I hate. He's holding onto mommy hard, and she's still not waking up. It's upsetting me.

But if I cry, daddy will give me a real reason to cry. So I bite my lip, trying to keep myself together as I look at my brother. He'll help, he always helps me.

"I'll fix it, sissy." Mail runs to the back of the house, and daddy lifts mommy up while yelling at her to wake up. He looked at my hand, but he doesn't care when I'm hurt. Neither of them do. I'm trying to hold back my tears, but it hurts so badly. Maybe I deserve it, did I do something wrong? I want to make mommy not sick anymore.

Mail runs back to me, wearing his zombie pajamas that don't fit him anymore. He pours something on my hand and it burns, then it stops. He wipes the blood away, and as he does there's sirens outside and lights flashing through the windows. The doctors will help mommy feel better! Maybe they can fix my hand too.

Big brother wraps my hand in a dry and crusty wash rag, and a tear slips from my eye. I look away from daddy so he doesn't see, but he doesn't care enough to look. There's a loud knock on the door, and the doctors came rushing inside. There were cops too, and dad looked mad when he seen them.

The nice doctors took mommy to the ambulance, and daddy started screaming at the cops. I held Mail's hand, and we stood in the living room while the adults talked. I don't understand what they're saying, they're using these big words I just don't get yet. But Mail probably does, he's really smart.