Chapter Text
Dally sat, not bothering to turn off the light. Buck made enough between the parties he threw (he charged five dollars to use one of his rooms), the rodeo (he didn’t rig the games, Dally knew, but he bet a lot of money when he knew who would win), and the occasional drug deal (never intentionally, but sometimes Tim Shepard needed some help, and Dally wasn’t around). So he knew Buck could pay the electricity bill.
Valerie Amanda Belle Heard Junior
First Registered
Dally exhaled. He wasn’t sure who changed it, but he was grateful someone took the time to fix Valerie’s name. She’d never liked her name, and it made sense she changed it. Even Mandy was a nickname for it. It was why Dally changed his name too. To escape his past.
BIOLOGICAL PARENTS: Unknown Mother Amanda Heard?
Dally scowled. “Unknown.” How many Amanda Heards were out there to make Valerie the second? Not enough to leave it a huge question. Besides, there was the fact Valerie looked eerily like Amanda, especially with her hair and eyes how they were.
BIOLOGICAL SIBLING(S): Unknown Devon Heard? Dallas Winston?
He paused. They’d written him in, considered him as a relative. They even changed his name, when he changed it. It was meaningless, and insignificant when compared to the entire file, but he couldn’t help but get choked up over it.
HEALTH ISSUES: None PTSD? Malnourished. Anxiety?
He barely reacted at that. Valerie had to have had PTSD. Hell, he had PTSD from the years he raised her.
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE: Shoulder length white-blonde hair, light blue eyes, high cheekbones, pointed ears Dyed brown hair, green colored contacts
Dally used to cut Valerie’s hair. Shoulder length was the longest she could tolerate it, otherwise it got in the way too much. The fact it was nearly to her ribs was something that made the knot in Dally’s chest tighter.
AGE: 10 Way too fucking young
The memory came back before he could stop it, and Dally tightened his grip on the file, willing it away. He didn’t want to remember it, so he wouldn’t.
Valerie Amanda Belle Heard Junior
First Year
Home Placement: Mr. and Mrs. Williams
Placed: March 1, 1961
Children There: None
Other Foster Kids There: None
Notes: Valerie Amanda was removed for no apparent reason after three days. No reason my ass. Valerie called in tears because Mr Williams hit her.
For a moment, Dally forgot how to breathe. Hit her? Someone had dared to touch his baby sister? He had left so she would be safe, and someone treated her the same way Amanda had? The thought made him nauseous, but he swallowed back his emotions and continued to read.
Home Placement: Mr. and Mrs. Brown
Placed: March 5, 1961
Children There: Hank Brown (son, 4)
Other Foster Kids There: None
Notes: Valerie Amanda was relocated after a month. Mr. Brown fucking raped her! took it upon himself to use Miss Valerie for his own gratification. A report has been filed.
Dally’s legs dropped off the table. He felt blood draining from his face, and he tightened his hold on the pile once again. This… this man, this monster, had taken away Valerie’s rights and took what was hers and hers only.
He knew he harassed girls, and often the harassment was sexual, but even Dally would never touch someone that way without consent.
And this grown adult touched Valerie.
Home Placement: Ms. Jones
Placed: April 7, 1961
Children There: None
Other Foster Kids There: Peggy Dean
Notes: Valerie Amanda called, asking to be moved, after a week. Her request was denied. Officially. I let her sleep on my couch until I found her a new home.
Dally felt a surge of gratitude at the note that someone had hastily crossed out. He could guess that the writing belonged to Tyr, which meant Valerie at least had a semi-safe place to sleep for a bit. He wasn’t so optimistic he’d say nothing happened, but he had gotten the distinct impression neither Richards nor Tyr wanted Valerie to get hurt.
Still, curiosity ate at him as he wondered why she had been moved. At the same time, he had a sinking feeling he knew the answer.
Home Placement: Mr. and Mrs. Miller
Placed: April 19, 1961
Children There: Kelly Miller (daughter, 12)
Other Foster Kids There: None
Notes: Valerie Amanda moved after three months. Miss Valerie left Miss Kelly a note, which I have included to showcase why Miss Valerie was moved.
Dally flicked through the many papers until he found the note. He hesitated before setting it down, deciding he’d read it after finishing the file.
Home Placement: Mr. Davis
Placed: July 25, 1961
Children There: None
Other Foster Kids There: None
Notes: Valerie Amanda ran away and was found by Sophie Tyr. She was moved immediately. Immediately? It took four days to get her out of that house because Davis was sure he could “take care” of her.
Nausea crept up on him again.
He had that feeling again, the feeling of knowing exactly what they meant by “take care” of her, and he didn’t like it.
Home Placement: Mr. Wilson and Ms. Taylor
Placed: October 29, 1961
Children There: None
Other Foster Kids There: None
Notes: Valerie Amanda was removed after a surprise visit that discovered unsavory activities. Abuse. Assault. Rape. Starving her. Caleb I know you keep crossing off my notes, stop it. Sophie, I’m going to have to ask that you stop using Miss Valerie’s file as a way to communicate and that you keep your notes appropriate.
Even the humor of the notes couldn’t stop Dally from standing. He barely made it to the sink before his dinner was coming up.
They not only abused Valerie, they raped her and starved her too?
It suddenly made sense why she was so thin, if this was what happened in the past. He knew from experience that if she was told something, it took months or even years to convince her otherwise. If she was told to not eat, Valerie wouldn’t eat until she collapsed from hunger, and even then, someone would have to force feed her.
Home Placement: Mr. Moore
Placed: December 23, 1961
Children There: David Moore (son, 19)
Other Foster Kids There: None
Notes: Valerie Amanda was removed after Mr. Moore said she caused too many problems. An internal investigation done by myself and Sophie Tyr showed that the “problems” he mentioned were Valerie fighting back when he hurt her.
Hurt her how?
The thought was fleeting, replaced by a sick realization that all these houses had something in common. Abusing Valerie.
With the urge to vomit creeping up again, he skimmed the rest of the file, confirming his suspicions.
Every single house aside from a select few had a note about her being abused, starved, raped, or something else that should never have happened.
He quickly gave up reading it, and skipped to the end, to the medical history.
Medical History: One hospital visit while residing with Ms. Henley, reason unspecified
That was it? One, in her five years in the system? It seemed so impossible, Dally snorted.
They won’t include her unofficial medical history, so I’m going to list each time Val has said something to me. She began keeping track after her third house when I told her to, so the numbers may be too small
Oh, God. Dally sat back down slowly, the ability to stand seemingly leaving him. Too small. Somehow, he knew they’d be too high for him to feel okay after seeing them.
17 reports of having bones broken (hand 8 times, temporarily lost use of it when she was 13; Leg 10 times, permanently limps and lost use for about three months at 12; foot 9 times, used as a way to “keep her from leaving”, also why she limps; wrist 12 times, for “eating when she wasn’t supposed to”)
Seventeen times her bones had been broken, and, oh, glory, they broke her wrist for eating? Her foot for trying to leave? That explained the limp, but part of Dally wished it was still a mystery to him.
6 reports of being stitched or sewn (mouth twice for “talking out of turn; mouth once for “eating before her week of punishment was up”; stomach once since “they cut her so badly they thought she would bleed to death”; lower regions twice for “not cooperating”)
The sink.
That was the only thought on Dally’s mind as he stumbled up again.
He hated being sick, especially if it involved throwing up, but for once, he was almost grateful to have the ability to throw up. He could imagine it was the emotions churning in his stomach instead of the food coming up.
People had sewn his Valerie’s mouth shut.
She was so quiet, barely said a word, and seemed so scared to speak when Dally or Buck was around, and it made sense.
They’d sewn her mouth shut for speaking, for eating.
It took a moment for the second part to sink in.
First it was that they cut her. They cut his baby up.
Then it was that they cut her so bad she needed stitches.
The third thing to hit him was that she needed stitches because she’d have died otherwise. These people almost killed his sister.
And then, the worst one became clear.
They raped his sister, and when she fought back, they sewed her body as punishment.
It seemed nausea was his friend, and he desperately wanted to end the friendship.
His throat burned, but it was nothing compared to the anger running through his veins.
He forced himself to take a deep breath, to return to the table, to pick up the file again.
For her. To understand.
381 bruises (on arms)
513 bruises (on legs)
1,823 bruises (on face)
68 bruises (on hands)
16 bruises (on feet)
148 bruises (on neck)
78 bruises (on chest)
92 bruises (on back)
Each section got its own number. He swallowed harshly, forcing himself to continue.
5,431 counts of being intentionally cut/sliced (5,398 by who she was living with, 14 by students when she attended school, 19 by herself)
He was fine.
It was fine.
She’d been cut five thousand, three hundred, and ninety-eight times by her foster families, but it was fine.
He wasn’t angry, he could breathe, it was fine.
She’d cut herself nineteen times, but it was fine.
But it wasn’t fine, and he wasn’t fine, and she sure as hell wasn’t fine.
He wanted to run upstairs, to hold her and never let go, but she was resistant to touch, and didn’t trust him.
Rightfully so, he bitterly thought. If he hadn’t left, this wouldn’t have happened.
It was all his fault.
1,729 counts of being accidentally cut/sliced (1,620 from sleeping on broken glass)
It should have surprised him, but he was becoming used to what she went through, and knew it would only get worse.
And, as much as he hated it, they’d both slept on glass for years with Amanda, and that was if they were lucky enough to sleep at all.
3 counts of being stabbed
It was fine, she’d survived.
Maybe if he repeated it enough, he’d believe it.
6 diy abortions (none her choice)
She didn’t need a kid anyway, Dally told himself.
But she also didn’t need to worry about that, but these monsters made her have to worry.
7,927 counts of being raped (several per home)
Seven thousand. Seven thousand, nine hundred, and twenty-seven times, Valerie had been violated, all because he chose to leave.
A few months before, Dally stood under that damned streetlight, defiance in his eyes and grief in his heart. A gun in his hand, he raised it, unloaded, and let bullets tear into him.
He felt like that again, like metal was cutting through him, holes gushing blood as he fell to his knees, grim determination twisting his features as he died.
But instead of metal bullets, it was realizing his mistakes.
Instead of blood, it was shame.
Instead of determination, it was horror.
His lungs burned from lack of oxygen, and he forced himself to breathe again, gasping down air.
His fault.
1 count of witnessing murder
Heart filled with devastation, Dally mentally added one to the tally marks of murder Valerie was forced to witness. Two. She’d seen two, and that was two more than she should have.
And Ponyboy, glory, Ponyboy, he’d seen that many too. He’d seen so much, and for a fleeting second, Dally understood why he wanted to protect the boy. He reminded him of Valerie, if Valerie hadn’t been through the horrors she’d been through.
Murder. Valerie witnessed murder twice. How old was she the second time?
And did she know the second victim too?
100 counts of sleeping in basement (2 of which were with dead bodies)
That was unsurprising. They’d slept in plenty of basements as kids (but, God, she was still a kid, how much more could she take?).
The bodies were new though.
Stomach churning again, Dally forced himself to read. One more, just one more.
7 counts of being attacked by an animal
In a selfish, horrible way, Dally was relieved that she was attacked seven times.
After everything else, he was expecting something so much worse, and at least he could handle this.
He knew how to deal with animal attacks, and he knew how to talk her through her fear after one.
She was small and vulnerable, and five years ago, wild animals saw her and went for her. He learned how to soothe her, how to teach her to settle her nerves and love the animals again.
He set the file down, lifting the note enclosed.
Deer Kelly,
I am leveing. My sosal worker, Mis Sofy, is going to pic me up. Yur dady hits me and st stare starvs wont alow me to eet. To days agoe, Mister Miler tuk me to his baz baes down stares rume and tuk of the prety dres yu gaev me. Then he tuk of his pants and man pantys. And i dont want to talk abowt wut he did after but yur mama got reel consurnd and had me taek a pil fur pregnasy. She sade yur dady mite hav goten me pregnat. I wil be going home to Mis Sofy, but thank yu fur helping me and bradeing my hare and giving me cloeths. I felt veery prety. Gudby kelly! I wil mis yu. Luv, mandy
Dally blinked, trying to make sense of the words on the page.
Thankfully, it seemed Richards and Tyr rewrote the note for easier translation.
Dear Kelly,
I am leaving. My social worker, Miss Sophie, is going to pick me up. Your daddy hits me and (starves me) won’t allow me to eat. Two days ago, Mister Miller took me to his (basement) downstairs room and took off the pretty dress you gave me. Then he took off his pants and (boxers? underwear) man panties. And I don’t want to talk about what he did after, but your mama got real concerned and had me take a pill for pregnancy. She said your daddy might have gotten me pregnant. I will be going home to Miss Sophie, but thank you for helping me and braiding my hair and giving me clothes. I felt very pretty. Goodbye, Kelly! I will miss you. Love, Mandy (her name before changing it to Valerie)
And… oh. Dally wished he hadn’t read it.
He put the note back in the folder and stood.
The voice in his head wouldn’t shut up, and only one person could help.
It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all y-
He was going to Tim Shepard’s.