AN: Well, after that utter piece of crap I wrote and uploaded earlier today (Which has been removed, don't bother looking) I needed to remember why I call myself a writer. This is the product.

Warning: Mentions of child abuse. Nothing graphic, but if you're squeamish, don't read. Oh, and there's one bad word.

Disclaimer: I own not, you sue not.

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She knows she should be afraid of him. After all, he's a big man and could keep doing what he used to do. He already did, sort of, kissing her longer than he should have when he greeted her.

But she's done being afraid. This time, she's going to fight back. And she's not going to let Little Polly go through that. It's not out of any particular affection for the girl, but because sometimes she still wakes up drenched in a cold sweat, feeling his hands. And anything that can haunt you even after you have tasted absolute power shouldn't ever happen to anyone.

So she goes to his study, the night before she leaves. He puts aside the papers he's reading and smiles, the way a father should.

"Hello, pet. Come in, close the door." She does so, quashing the feeling of terror she has when the door closes off all escape as it did all those times. It leaves easily. "Have you come to say goodbye, then? Shall we say it properly?" He approaches, smelling of brandy. He grasps her arm and pulls her closer.

"I haven't come to say goodbye." She pulls away roughly. "I've only come to tell you that if you ever touch Polly, I'll kill you and make it look like an accident."

He laughs, the cocky bastard. Laughs. "I'm sure you will, darling. Now, how about a kiss?" He leans in.

She doesn't try to push him away. Instead, she slaps his face hard, with all of the strength she has gained since their last encounter. He reels backward, clutching his face.

"I'll kill you," she warns again, and leaves. Before the door closes again, she can see his eyes. They are full of rage.

He knows she's not afraid anymore. She takes a deep breath and heads upstairs, where she knows he'll never hurt her again.

But a month later, Admiral Worthington is found dead in the street while his daughter removes blood from her cousin's sheets using the bit of magic she has left.

Polly takes her cousin's hand. Her tearstained face is dry now. Felicity picks up the child and takes her upstairs with the fresh sheets, and doesn't lock the door.

There's nothing to fear except the nightmares. Those, however, will never fade.

Fin

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