fan_flashworks | Original Fiction: Made For Destruction

Prompt: 479. Underwater
Word count: 1,025
Rating: Mature
Summary: Dominick has heard sometimes parents don't know why they're punishing their children, but the children know why they're being punished. Dominick wasn't one of those shildren.
Warnings: child abuse, suicidal tendencies (ish), mentioned A/B/O dynamics
A/N: Dominick is around 14 at this point, even if her age is not stated in this piece. The A/B/O is barely mentioned. This is a ficlet with a character from a longer project that is currently abandoned.

Dominick was familiar with the taste, the feeling, of blood on mouth. Punches and slaps were almost a comforting touch, less unsettling than when Mother cradled her face and spoke softly. Sometimes she did that, was gentle and nice and Dominick wanted to run and hide from her.

She wanted to hide all the time, but it was worse when Mother was nice.

When Mother almost acted like Mom used to. It was scary, confusing. Proof that Mother did love her, that Mother could be gentle and that she just didn’t know how to always do it. Or she knew, that was more probable, and Dominick simply did not deserve to be treated like that.

Dominick usually didn’t why she was being punished. She heard that parents didn’t need to give their children a reason, they sometimes didn’t know why themselves, but children always knew why. Dominick wasn’t one of those children. But then, how many times was she told she was born wrong?

A defective cub.

Mother’s face, Mother’s alphahood, and Mom’s fire. And it was the worst kept secret of this household, alongside the frustration of not having another cubs. Part of Dominick wished she had a sibling or two, maybe Mother would be satisfied by their existence.

Then maybe Mother wouldn’t grab her off the bed in the middle of the night. It wasn’t the first time, and she knew it was far from the last time she’d do it. Dominick didn’t try to fight, and Mother wasn’t making much effort, a hand on her shoulder to guide her all the way to the lake. It was a twenty minute-long walk through the woods behind the family state.

Mother liked to make her stay at the shore of it for the rest of the night, only allowed back home when the sun was at the peak of the sky. Dominick wasn’t skilled enough, yet, to keep herself more than barely above hypothermia.

But then they kept walking. The lake had frozen over, but it wasn’t deep enough within winter for it to be solid enough to walk on it. Dominick could hear the low cracks, the hum in the air as Mother made sure the ice under her own feet was safely solid for her.

They stopped several steps away from the shore.

“Mother?” She asked, looking up at the woman. Illuminated by the moonlight, she looked above human.

“Quiet.”

She didn’t need to be ordered twice. Mother’s control was impeccable, a perfect circle of ice disintegrated into the dark water. Dominick’s breath was visible, her fingers trembled even if she tried to keep herself warm, but not warm enough to be slapped on the back for it.

What have I done this time? Have I pissed you off in a way that’s more than normal? But she knew better than opening her mouth. Mother nudged her towards the hole, a scowl on her face when Dominick looked up at her again.

She experienced ice baths before, in the security of a room back at the house. Dominick hates being submerged, the water was an unpleasant pressure, the cold felt like needles digging deep into her flesh.

Obedient as ever, she sat at the edge of the whole. It was narrow, barely enough for the width of her shoulders. Dominick had to borderline wiggle her way in. The ice felt like daggers trying to dig deeper than her bones.

Mother’s fingers were unforgiving as claws as she pushed Dominick under.

Being forced underwater in a semi-frozen lake was much, much worse than the weekly ice baths. Her lungs tried to expand, her whole body tried to fight her way back to the surface. Dominick had no chance against her Mother’s strength, much less when surrounded by ice and cold, when weighted down by the heavy soaked sleeping clothes. Her legs still kicked, her hands still reached towards the woman’s arm.

The pressure ceased, Dominick kicked harder, hit solid ice.

Dominick could handle ninety-six seconds holding her breath underwater. In non-freezing water, with the proper technique, her lungs full of air when submerged. Mother had been forcing her to take basic training lessons even if there was a few years before Dominick had to enlist. And none of those lessons prepared her for this.

Was this another punishment? Mother pushing the limits. Was this Mother dispatching of her? Could be called an accident. The rebellious daughter sneaking to talk around the woods, daring to step around the not solid enough lake and falling though the ice. A horrible fate for someone who was supposed to burn bright.

Air deprivation pushed beyond her control, water burned all the way down to her lungs. She couldn’t get even a spark, she wished she was strong enough to burn her way out of the ice. She couldn’t even keep trying to punch her way out.

Maybe it was mercy, yes, Mother loved her enough to set her free from future punishments. Freedom was an act of love, like Mother let Mom go and now was letting her go too. Loved them enough to be alone if that was better for them.

The bottom of the lake called for her, sang a song about soothing the pain. Not only the pain she was feeling right now, but the pain that had been carved somewhere deep like her soul. Those bleeding wounds. If she sank, she wouldn’t feel and wouldn’t think. Wouldn’t be Mother’s frustration and wouldn’t miss Mom anymore.

So yes, yes, Dominick could sink. She stopped moving, the burn of the cold was comforting once she decided this was a tomb. Once she decided her Mother had decided this was a tomb.

Dominick’s consciousness was almost faded away when the water was disturbed around her. There was pressure on her waist and suddenly she was on the suffocating heat of the air. She was shoved against the ice, there were agonising ten seconds before she had the strength to turn to the side and cough out water. It hurt more than when she breathed it in.

So, maybe the intention was to let her go yet.