Twin Image: Family, Before Anything

Chapter 41

~Nearly a week later~

~Natalie's POV~

-January 7th, Saturday-

"You had no choice? And what happened to the other four afterwards in court?" Mr. Jefferson asks, sipping his uh, 'coffee', and my eye twitches at the thought. I clear my throat with my cup of real coffee in hand, "She gave me no choice honestly. She came at me, and given I was as weak as physically possibly after their torturous weekend, I feared for my families lives and feared for my life as well. And so," I say, crossing my legs, "I took hers." I add simply, but to feel my own two lips mutter the lies felt . . . Undoubtedly wrong. "And the other four, well, are hopefully getting three rancid meals a day while they rot away in the cities correctional facility. All but one got life without parole." I tell him, "Warren Pine is lucky he was just two months shy of eighteen. He got fifteen to twenty-five years." I add, setting down my coffee and picking at my raw cuticles. In all honesty, I didn't want Warren to get life without parole.

He may have shot at my son and ended up shooting my bestfriend but, there's something I have to think about. If the decree was never thought up by my husband and executed by me, his mother would still be alive. And, what if that was my son? What if I was as conclusive as could be, and I was killed by a meta while taking him to Amity's playground? He wanted to make Tobias and I feel the exact same way he felt the day he lost his mother.

He wanted us to feel grief, for the loss of our son. He wanted an eye for an eye, kinda like I did with Raina Diaz. So how could I blame him? "Fifteen to twenty-five rightful years, young lady." Jefferson says, catching my attention. I quirk at him a bit, and he sighs, setting down his cup of animal O negative.

"I may not know you as well just yet but, I've been alive long enough to know that look." He says, and I can't believe I forgot about our age difference, due to his middle-aged look. "I've heard the rumors, the reasons, and stories on all five of them. That little boy made a choice the moment he joined Bloodreina and Bloodcurdle. That little boy made a choice those moments he was setting up that rifle. And that little boy made a very firm decision to become a man the moment he pulled that trigger. He deserves your personal repercussions, along with those years he's getting Mrs. Eaton. Minor or not." He tells me, and he reassures me nearly as well as my husband does. I smile and thank him for his kind words, and further pick at my cuticles out of habit. Just then, I feel someone taking my hands away from one another. I look to see it's my husband, squatting in front of me, and I watch him do the sweetest thing, and kiss my knuckles and cuticles before sitting down next to me.

He hates that I pick at them now. He used to not mind but, that was when I was just pushing them down to expose my new growth. Now, I overdo it, biting and picking so hard I get through my invulnerability and make myself bleed. I uh, honestly can't help it. I do it when I'm in my head, and sometimes I don't even realize I'm doing it until someone stops me.

One time before court, I was sitting at my vanity, scrunching and doing my hair, and Tobias was watching me. He had to tell me that I suddenly stopped, and started gnawing on my fingernails and basically clawing my cuticles, all while deep in thought. He stopped me when he realized I was making myself bleed. He asked me what I was thinking about, and rather than answering, I tried to go back to what I was doing. He demanded for me to talk to him, rather than zoning out like I do.

And that day, I did. I cried like a baby in his arms, and slowly but surely, I started talking to him. Telling him the things they did to me, and about the things I did. What I felt. How I felt.

I snap out of it, and I smile at him as he squeezes my hand. "He's right y'know?" My husband says, "He may be the same age as our son but, his mindset lead him exactly where he is now. That's the difference between him and ours. Mentality. You raised our son right." He adds, and he warms my heart, making earlier's urge to bite and pick vanish. "We, raised our son right." I correct, sitting back and happily snuggling into him. He wraps his arm around me, and I've never felt safer. But, once again, I'm reminded of something.