Chapter Text
The moment Ellie limped through the door, Dina knew something was wrong. Not just the blood—though there was plenty of that, staining her jeans and crusting along a fresh cut on her cheek—but the way she walked. Hunched, guilty. Like she knew what was coming.
Dina didn’t say anything at first. She just stood from the kitchen table, crossed her arms, and waited.
Ellie glanced up, then away. "I'm fine."
"Boots. Off. Now."
That voice—low and sharp—cut through Ellie like ice water. She kicked off her boots and set them by the door without a word.
"Jacket too. Let me see."
"It's nothing serious," Ellie muttered. But she shrugged out of the torn, bloodied jacket anyway and winced.
Dina walked over and inspected the gash on her side. It was shallow, but it would scar. "How many were there?"
"Three. Maybe four."
Dina’s eyes narrowed. "And you went alone. After we agreed—"
"Dina, I had it under control."
"That’s not the damn point!" The calm cracked. Dina took a step back, fists clenched. "You promised me. No more solo patrols, especially not that far out. What if you hadn’t come back, Ellie? What if they’d gotten lucky? One wrong move and—"
"But they didn’t," Ellie snapped. "I made it back. I always do."
Dina’s voice dropped to a dangerous softness. "You think you're invincible? That your life doesn’t matter?"
Ellie looked away. "Sometimes it feels like it doesn’t."
That did it.
Dina moved toward the bedroom, speaking as she went. "You better get in there. Now."
Ellie blinked, then followed—grudgingly. "Wait, seriously? You’re gonna... what? Punish me?"
Dina opened the dresser drawer and pulled out the wooden hairbrush—the heavy one Ellie hated—then turned to face her. "You broke a serious rule, Ellie. One we agreed on. You put yourself in danger and came home acting like it was no big deal. I'm done with warnings."
Ellie crossed her arms. "Come on, Dee. You're not really gonna—"
"Pants and underwear down. Over the bed. You’ve got one chance to do this the easy way."
There was silence.
Ellie searched Dina's eyes for softness. Mercy. A bluff.
None of it was there.
"You don’t mean it," Ellie tried again, voice quieter.
Dina stepped forward, holding the brush. "Do you really want to test me right now?"
The fight drained from Ellie’s shoulders. Her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned her jeans. "You’re serious."
"Dead serious."
Ellie obeyed slowly, dragging her jeans and underwear down to her knees. She climbed onto the bed, burying her face in the blanket. "This is humiliating."
Dina’s voice softened, but only slightly. "It’s supposed to be. Actions have consequences, Ellie. And I won’t sit back while you tear yourself apart."
The first smack landed sharp and unforgiving. Ellie sucked in a breath.
The second came just as hard. And the third.
By the fifth, Ellie squirmed. "Dina, please—"
"You don’t get to beg after what you pulled," Dina snapped. "Running off. Getting hurt. Making me wonder if I’d be burying you next. You think that’s okay?"
"I’m sorry," Ellie mumbled into the blanket.
"Not yet you’re not. But you will be."
The brush landed again, precise and relentless. Ellie kicked her feet but didn’t protest. Not really. This wasn’t a surprise—not the pain, and not the way it made her feel: grounded, seen, kept.
By the tenth stroke, her voice cracked. "It was stupid. I know."
"Damn right it was."
Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen.
"And selfish."
"Yes."
By the time Dina reached twenty, Ellie was crying.
Dina set the brush down and leaned over, brushing damp hair from Ellie’s face. "You're not alone anymore, Ellie. You don’t get to act like you are. I love you. I need you here, safe. With me."
Ellie turned her head, eyes red. "I hate that brush."
Dina smiled a little. "I know. That’s why I used it."
She helped Ellie up, tugging her pants gently back into place, then pulled her into a hug.
Ellie clung to her, face pressed into Dina’s neck. "Don’t let me do something that stupid again."
"I won’t," Dina whispered. "That’s a promise."