A/N: Takes place when Lex is six years old. Dark. As described in the summary, this story is rated for child abuse (it takes place seconds after an abusive incident and heavily references the event).

No need to have read If She Looked Over to understand this, but I do consider it to be part of that universe.

Brave Enough

A vicious line of white-hot pain traced its way from his right side, down his ribs, to his lower back on the left side. It felt like his skin had been split open and set on fire.

Lex couldn't even pull in a breath until several seconds after his father had left the bathroom. When he finally managed, it was a deep, throaty gasp, and the following ragged sob was as silent as it was hard. He tried to scream, and what came out was closer to a whistle.

He grasped his side with his hand, and it hurt more; he pulled his hand away from his side, and it hurt more; he crouched down to his knees, and it hurt more. There was nothing he could do.

At last, the tears began. His father hated it when he cried, but he couldn't help it. He realized his voice had returned, and he called out, "Mom! Mama!"

She came running into the bathroom moments later. Her bright blue eyes widened, and she knelt down beside him. "It's okay, baby, Mama's here. What happened?"

"I—I—" He turned his side toward her so she could see the rising welt.

A flash of fear filled her eyes as she looked at his side, then down at the belt on the floor beside him. "What happened?"

Lex let out a couple more sobs. He didn't want to tell her that he had disobeyed his father, again. The last time she found out he disobeyed his dad, she'd swatted the seat of his pants and sent him to his room. It didn't hurt anywhere near as badly as the belt had, but he still didn't want her to do it again. The only saving grace had been that she didn't tell his father what he had done.

His eyes skimmed past the belt on the floor, to the shower. He swallowed and rubbed his eyes. "I got out of the shower and put on my pants and I was tryin' to get my belt on. I slipped and my side hit there." He pointed to the edge of the bathtub. He usually put on his belt after his shirt, and he didn't have his shirt on yet, but he hoped she wouldn't notice that his story didn't actually make much sense.

She stared at him for a moments, eyes narrowed, and his heart pounded as he waited for her to call him out on his lie . . .

Finally, she sighed. "Okay, baby. Let me see it."

He let his breath out in relief, but then she took his right arm and began to lift it. The pain flared up even worse. "Don't touch it!"

"I'm not, I'm just looking."

Lex wrenched his hand back. "Don't touch!" He erupted into sobs again.

"Alexander, I need you to take three deep breaths for me." She set a hand on his shoulder, which was still slightly damp from the shower and the humidity of the room. "Can you do that?"

He shook his head, face buried in his hands.

"Look at me."

He peeked at her through his fingers. Her face was blurry, but he could see her pull in a deep, slow breath, all the way down to her stomach. He mimicked her motions, then repeated them two more times.

"Okay, Alexander, listen. I just need to see it. I'm not going to touch it. Can you be my brave boy?"

He nodded, though his eyes filled with warm tears once again.

She lifted his arm, and peered around his side, looking over his ribs and back. "Okay. I don't think anything's broken. Is it just your side and back? Does anywhere else hurt?"

His right arm was sore—his father had nearly lifted him by his wrist in order to bare his side before swinging the belt—but if there was any sign of a handprint on his wrist, he didn't want her to take a close look at it. "No," he said.

"Okay. Let's get you up to your room."

She placed her hands at his shoulder blades and lifted him the way she usually did—he whimpered as the swollen skin stretched. "It hurts!"

"I know, baby." She softened her grip around him and firmed her support under him, and walked him down the hall to his bedroom, placing him down on his bed. "I'll be right back."

He nodded and rolled onto his stomach, gripping his pillow and letting out a few more sobs. He couldn't believe how long this was hurting. When his father slapped him in the face, the pain usually went away after a minute or two, and the swat from his mother had only stung for a few seconds.

His mother returned with two ice packs, each wrapped in a pillow case. "This might be a little uncomfortable at first." She pressed the two cold packs along the line the belt had carved.

Lex howled when they first made contact, but his mother sat on the edge of his bed and gently rubbed his shoulders. He made himself take deep breaths as the relief spread.

"There you go." She bent down over him and kissed the side of his head, then ran her fingers through his hair—he loved that feeling. "Any better?"

"Yeah," he said, burying his face in his pillow.

She continued to stroke his hair. "I think you should take a little nap, then we can pack for your trip."

He turned his head around to face her. "No!"

Her eyebrows narrowed. "No nap, or no packing?"

"No to both!" He wasn't a baby—he didn't need to take naps—and he did not want to go on his father's business trip.

"I think a nap will be good for you. It'll help you feel better. If you don't want to pack, I can have Pamela do it for you."

The crying had worn him out, so he decided not to fight the nap. The trip was more important to argue about. "I don't want to go with Dad. I want to stay home with you."

"Your dad misses you, Alexander. He's so busy all of the time, this is a chance for the two of you to spend some time together."

"He's busy when we go on trips too."

"Yes, but—"

"And he's mean."

Her eyes wandered to the ice packs. His breath caught in his throat—if he didn't distract her, she was going to figure out about what happened earlier.

"Mom."

She looked up at his face.

"Can you tell Dad to be nice?"

She squeezed the back of his neck. "He's nice when you listen and do as he says. He loves you."

Lex's eyes watered again. It was really hard to do what his father said sometimes. He was glad he hadn't told her about the belt. She might have told him he had deserved it, and then she wouldn't be comforting him or giving him ice. He wasn't brave enough to go without her comfort, even if he deserved the pain.

"You be a good boy, okay?"

He nodded. "I'm going to miss you."

"Oh!" She opened her arms, and he crawled into her lap, not caring that the cold packs fell off. "I'll miss you too, baby."

"'M not a baby."

"Sorry." She kissed the top of his head. "My brave little man."

Safe in his mother's soft arms, he almost couldn't feel the pain in his back. He smiled and buried his face in her shoulder.

"Sleep," she said, lifting him from her lap and laying him on his stomach. He buried his cheek in the thick pillow. She replaced the two cold packs, then covered him over with a blanket. "Pamela will pack you a bag while you rest, and I'm going to have a servant pick up some ice cream for when you wake up."

He nodded, his eyes closed, and she kissed him on the temple, tousling his hair one more time before leaving the room and softly shutting the door behind herself.

As soon as he was sure she was gone, Lex pulled himself out of bed and went to the mirrored closet door. He turned and looked over his shoulder, trying to see the whole welt at once. It really didn't look like he had fallen on the edge of the bathtub. There was a curve to the deep red line, and he could actually see a mark the size and shape of his belt buckle on the back of his left hip. He was lucky she had believed his story.

He went back to bed and settled under the covers, thankful for how much she loved him.

End