(no subject)
She was seven years old again, poking around in her father's stage props. She had bonded closely with the doves and rabbits, offering them tidbits so she could gently pet them. She wasn't really supposed to be in here, but the lure of the animals always made her forget that. So there she was, her fingers through the bars of the cage scritching at a white, floppy ear when his shadow fell over her. She turned a happy smile to her father but it faded at one look of his face.
"How many times have I told you, Zatanna."
"But I just wanted..."
"HOW MANY TIMES!" The fist didn't wait for her to answer. It just fell across her face. It was the first time.
Zee twitched in her sleep.
"It was YOUR fault she died! I won't have you killing the animals I NEED to provide for you!"
"Daddy....I'm sorry!" She sniffled around the tears and the blood stuffing her nose as he pulled her to her feet by her shirt, ripping the sleeve in the process. That didn't seem to matter though as he tossed her small form easily from the room, slamming the door behind him. She thought he was going to do it again but he had stopped, looking down at her, his face suddenly contorting into a mask of guilt.
He bent down and pulled her into a gentle hug, so gentle, the hand that struck her now stroking her hair before he kisses the top of her head. "I'm sorry....so sorry my little bird. I didn't mean to." She hugged as much of him as she could, sobbing against his shirt, crying out her own apologies. He really did work hard for them.
She was 13 now, part of his act. She was his cute little assistant, dressed in a miniature tuxedo that matched his almost perfectly. It wasn't her first time on stage with him, she'd lost count how many times she has helped him, so she knew she knew better than what she did. She was supposed to open the doves' cage at just the right moment, but their cooing distracted her and she missed her cue. He had to repeat himself. On stage. When she finally did open the cage it was with such vehemence, trying to make up for her mistake, that she scared the birds sending them darting out of the cage in a panic. He had to spend some real magic to turn them into sparkling confetti over the heads of some pretty ladies in the front row. It hadn't been time for the real stuff yet and now he'd have to buy new birds. The look in his eyes at that moment, belying the stage smile, promised her much.
After their bows to a raucous applause and two encores, he had escorted her to their changing rooms and locked the door. He came after her with a fury she hadn't seen before though this was hardly the first time. She knew how to curl herself up now to cover the places it really hurt to be hit. The blows and grabs had suddenly stopped and she heard him leave the room. Confusion coupled with relief screamed through her head as she peeked out from her upraised arms, pulling at her shirt to cover her chest where it had ripped open from his attack. She didn't know why he had stopped so quickly. Not then.
A small whimper crept past her sleeping lips.
Not even a year later. She hadn't even done anything this time. Matter of fact, the act had gone well, as had her magic lessons. She was sleeping soundly when she was wakened by his touch. He would sometimes come to her room to check on her and she always heard him come in, feigning sleep until he left, but he never touched her.
She turned curious, sleepy eyes to him over her shoulder. "Daddy?"
He never said anything, nor did he try to hurt her. Not at first. But the touch moved from her hair covering her shoulder to her back, under her night shirt. And then it got scary.
She had tried to say no. She knows she did. He always told her that she never did, though. Never. He even held her after, rocking her as she quietly cried. He would stroke her hair, tell her she was a good girl....his good little bird.....but she wasn't to remember now....she should go back to sleep.
It was always the same after that. Weeks, even months would go by and everything was normal. A loving father doting on his beautiful growing daughter. Then some night, something would bring him to her room. There was never any pattern to it. And he would touch her again....over and over. Then he would hold her, stroke her hair, tell her what a good girl she was. "Don't remember now. You should go back to sleep." And always, the bastard would be holding his pants together at the waste as he paused in her bedroom door to turn back to her. "I love you, Zatanna. Good night."
Zee woke up sobbing into her pillow, her entire body shaking so hard and so much it could easily be mistaken for convulsions.