The Pieces Don't Fit Anymore

Nothing. They had found nothing. Sidney and Brady and a handful of Sorcha's other cousins had searched all night, all throughout the town, yet Sorcha was nowhere to be seen. Some people said they had seen her the night before, but not that night. She had left with some guy, some drug-dealing lowlife that everyone spoke ill of. Things were not looking great.

Sorcha's uncles joined them. The police were contacted, hospitals were checked. Brady called Cory and Finn, trying to explain to them what happened. From what Sidney could gather, they were furious. Brady had been put in charge of their little sister's care and he had failed. The Nova Scotian watched the Irishman sympathetically; this was really eating him up. He blamed himself. He had called his cousin out on her bullshit, on her behavior, and now she was missing. No one blamed him, except, perhaps, Sorcha's brothers, but Sidney hoped that was only caused by the initial shock. Everyone understood that Sorcha had been on a very dangerous path for months now. People understood that this, unfortunately, may have been inevitable. But he wasn't willing to believe that.

Sighing, Sidney's tired body sagged into a well-worn armchair. The house was dead silent. It was half-past two and pitch black outside, but Sidney simply could not sleep. He was exhausted, yes, but his mind was running about a million miles a minute and he couldn't make it settle down. He was truly terrified for Sorcha.

Mulling through his thoughts for a moment more, Sidney rose to his feet, shoving his cell phone in his pocket and yanking on his shoes before he marched through the front door, determined to find Sorcha if it was the last thing he did.

* * *

My eyes fluttered open a darkened room. I moved to sit up, only to fall back when a searing pain shot through my body. A soft cry escaped my lips. My body began to throb. Biting my lip, I reached out, groping in the darkness beside the bed, hoping to find a bedside lamp. I managed to flick one on, though I wish I hadn't.

I looked down at my body and cringed. The spot on my left arm where the heroin had been roughly injected was red and inflamed, aching at the simple movement of my arm. A few gashes, whose source I could not determine, were scattered across my stomach. I felt queasy when I noticed that the inside of my thighs were caked with blood. My entire lower body was throbbing, though the pain I felt between my legs wasn't half as bad as what was resonating from my shoulders.

Dark, hand-shaped bruises stood out distinctly from my pale skin. I tentatively reached up and brushed my fingertips over my shoulders and collarbone, only to instantly regret it. On my left collarbone was a lump, a lump that hurt to touch with even the lightest pressure. There was a space between the lump and the rest of my collarbone and it had the darkest bruising. I could've sworn I actually felt the bone, as if it was exposed.

I gulped, my hands falling to my side as tears prickled my eyes. It hadn't been some horrible nightmare. It had really happened. I had been raped.

Not wanting to linger around for a moment longer, I peeled myself out of the bed, dressing as quickly and as delicately as I could. Once I had managed to gather all of my things, I got out of there as fast as I could, stumbling onto the dark and empty street, disoriented and in too much pain to handle. Tears began to stream down my face as I went toward the only place I would be able to manage to find in this darkened state: the beach.

I dropped down to the cold sand, my body protesting painfully. I tried to sit up, but it hurt too much, and I fell backward, pressing my tender body into the sand. Goose bumps raced up my bare arms due to the frigid, sea air, but I couldn't be bothered to move. I was in too much pain and I had nowhere to go. I was terrified to go home, where angry words would be exchanged and too many questions would be asked. I just wanted to lie here and forget everything that happened. My eyelids fluttered shut.

* * *

After wandering the dark streets for awhile without any results, something deep down in Sidney told him to go to the beach. He couldn't explain what it was, but he had the overwhelming feeling that Sorcha was there, somewhere along the coastline. So, Sidney listened to the nagging in the back of his mind and veered toward the beach.

He walked through the sand for quite awhile and was just about to give up when his flashlight landed on a dark lump in the sand. The twenty-two-year-old broke out into a sprint, dropping to his knees when he reached it, when he reached her.

While he couldn't quite decipher her state in the darkness, she looked worse for wear, completely worn out and broken. A sad sigh escaped his lips as he sank into the sad beside her, watching her sleeping, a pained expression on her face. Soft murmurs were escaping her lips, though nothing he could understand, before a loud shriek pierced his ears.

Instinctively, Sidney wrapped his arms around her. Sorcha began to struggle, crying out as she weakly tried to get away from him. He gently wrapped his arms around her tighter, pressing his forehead against the side of her head, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

"Shh, Sorcha." She continued to struggle, eyes still closed, as though she was afraid to see who was holding her. "It's me." Soft whimpers and less struggling. "It's Sidney."

That was all she needed. Sorcha collapsed into his arms, sobbing.

* * *

For a while, I was relaxed, eyes closed and breathing steadily, trying to ignore the pain that seared throughout my body. But then, I saw him. His sick grin and pale eyes, the look of lust and want and need reflecting back at me. He reached for me and I screamed. Then, I felt his hands on me, trying to pull me close, trying to get at me again. I had never been so terrified in my life. I knew I should have gone home, gotten farther away. He had found me again! And who knows how well-off I'll be after this go. I kept my eyes closed tight as I tried my hardest to get out of his grip. I didn't want to see him, feeling him was bad enough. I had to get away! But my body hurt so badly and I knew I couldn't fight him… My heart was racing and I sure thought I was going to die.

Then, I heard a familiar voice say to me, "It's me, it's Sidney." All fight left me immediately. I collapsed into his arms, sobbing into his shoulder as he held me. I don't know how long I cried, but when I finally settled down, my eyes were sore and my throat was raw. I sniffled as Sidney gently untangled me from his arms.

"You do not know how worried we've been. How worried I've been," he stated in a very sincere voice. I bowed my head, ashamed. I couldn't look him in the eye. I had never felt so dirty in my life. I had been damaged goods beforehand, but now, now I was completely ruined. He grabbed my chin, gently lifting it up so our eyes would meet. Hazel melted into chocolate.

"Are – are you alright?"

Swallowing roughly, I shook my head, adverting my gaze again, "Not especially, no."

"Would you like to tell me what happened?" Sidney questioned gently. I opened my mouth, but I couldn't form the words. I could barely think the words. How do you tell someone that you had just been raped? … Exactly, you don't.

"How about you tell me what you're doing here in Ireland? In my hometown?" I wondered, changing the subject.

"Your brothers told me you were here," he answered nonchalantly.

I quirked an eyebrow, though he couldn’t see it, "Oh? And how did you know where to find them?"

"Sadie," I could tell Sidney was smirking. I felt a small smile creep to my lips, but I quickly shook it away. I pulled myself from the loose embrace he still had me in.

"You shouldn't have come, Sidney," I announced, looking at him sternly. I could see him only because of the moon and its reflection off the ocean. "You shouldn't have followed me here. I thought we decided that this wasn't happening…"

"No, you decided, Sorcha. You're the one who pushed me away," Sidney's voice had a hint of anger.

"Well, you're the one who walked away!" It was all his fault. If he hadn't left me, I wouldn't have dug myself so deep! I wouldn't have been kicked out! I wouldn't have lost my jobs! I wouldn't have fled to Ireland! I wouldn't have run away from Brady! I wouldn't have tried heroin! I wouldn't have… I wouldn't have… Oh god.

A choked sob escaped me before I could stop it. I became even more acutely aware of my injuries. My entire body ached. I was completely drained, yet my body was somehow finding the strength to start sobbing again.

If Sidney had been angry, all of it had been lost. His strong arms enveloped me, pulling me into his lap. He cradled me, allowing me to cry into his shoulder for the second time. I knew it wasn't Sidney's fault that my life had fallen apart. I mean, just look at what he was doing!

No, it was my fault that everything had happened, everything right up to now. I was such an awful person, especially now, and I knew it. Yet, for some reason, Sidney fucking Crosby was holding me as I cried over something that was my own damn fault. If I hadn't been such a self-centered idiot, I wouldn't have been kicked out, or fired, or raped. I deserved every bit what that creep did to me. Now, I looked as ruined on the outside as I was on the inside.

I pulled away immediately. I couldn't do this. I couldn't let him waste his time on me. I forced my way out of his grip and scrambled to my feet, preparing to run away. I needed to get away from him before I ruined his life even more.

"Sorcha!" He was chasing after me. I knew I couldn't outrun him, especially in my condition, but that didn't stop me from trying. I had made it off the beach and into the streets. I heard his heavy footsteps behind me. I kept on running, more determined than ever to get away.

I don't know how far I had gotten before I tripped. My body came crashing to the ground, hitting the cobblestone hard. A sickening CRACK! echoed through the silent streets as more pain shot up through my body. This time, it came from my arm, from when I had tried to break the inevitable fall.

Sidney came to a skidding halt. He bent down beside me, worried. But once he caught sight of me in the proper light, the light that illuminated the streets, his look of worry morphed into horror and disgust. I had been exposed. I looked like the monster I was on the inside.

"Fuck, Sorcha!" he exclaimed, "What happened to you?"

"N-n-nothing," I stuttered, trying to pull out of his grasp. I was crying again, or perhaps I had never stopped.

"This isn't 'nothing', Sorcha," Sidney growled at my dismissive behavior.

"Well, it at least was nothing I didn't deserve."

* * *

She looked horrible. Sidney couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it on the beach. Under the light, he saw what she may have been desperately trying to hide. There were several bruises etched along her jaw line, though they were nothing compared to the deep, distinctly hand-shaped bruises on her collarbone, where a sickening lump was jutting out from a place it shouldn't have been. Sorcha's right wrist was slowly swelling and the inside of her left elbow was inflamed. But the most sickening thing Sidney saw was the trails on blood down her pale legs. He knew where they had come from and he knew what that meant.

And as soon as Sidney found that goddamn bastard who had done this to Sorcha, he was going to kill him.

"Fuck, Sorcha!" he exclaimed, "What happened to you?"

"N-n-nothing," she stuttered, trying to pull out of his grasp. Sidney kept a tight hold on her. He wasn't going to let her run away again. He was never going to let Sorcha out of his sight ever, ever, ever again.

"This isn't 'nothing', Sorcha," Sidney growled at her dismissive behavior. It was a serious matter. And Sidney seriously wanted to rip the asshole who dared lay a hand on Sorcha, let alone do this to her, to shreds.

"Well, it at least was nothing I didn't deserve."

Anger flared up in the twenty-two-year-old's eyes. If it were possible, his eyes would have been glowing red and steam would have been coming out of his ears.

"Don't fucking say that," he snapped, causing Sorcha to jump, "Don't you ever fucking say that Sorcha."

"Why not? It's true. I got exactly what I deserved tonight. Finally, after all these years, someone gave me exactly what I deserved." She was avoiding eye contact.

Sidney grabbed her jaw and made her look at him, look at him dead in the eyes.

"Shut the fuck up, Sorcha. Stop tearing yourself down for one goddamn minute and listen to me" he spat before immediately softening his gaze and his tone, "No one deserves this, especially not you. Do you not understand that so many people love you? You really have no idea how wonderful you are.

"You are fierce and passionate and quirky and infuriating and hardworking and strong and fiery and beautiful and electrifying and addicting. I've loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I may not have known it then, but I know it now. It is impossible for me not to love you, Sorcha. I love you more than anything in the entire world, more than hockey and even my parents. You have become everything to me. And you deserve every ounce of that love because you are amazing.

"I don't care about your past. I don't care how many guys you've screwed or how many drugs you've taken. I don't care how deep of a hole you've dug yourself into. All I care about it you. I will help you fix the rest because I'm not going anywhere ever again."

* * *

I stared at him, processing his words. Tears still flowed down my cheeks, but I wasn't sure if it was because of the pain I was in anymore. Shaky hands reached out and grabbed the front of Sidney's shirt. My body ached in protest, but I ignored it. I yanked him close to me and brought his lips to mine. His arms drifted to my waist, holding me steady, as we kissed, and kissed, and kissed until our lungs were aching.

It was then that I felt it. I felt my heart pound, and felt my knees go weak, and felt my heart soar – and I felt something else, too. Something new. This wasn't Andy, I knew that. I knew that this could never be Andy.

But that was okay, because this was Sidney, and he made me feel completely whole.