So. This is my newest creation. I finally got around to watching Ten Inch Hero, and I fell in love. It was amazing. Seriously. I'd suggest it to any one. For those of you reading this, if you watch Supernatural, go check out my other stories. I'm not sure when I'll be updating, though. The reason I wrote this is because I have the worst writers block. If you read it and get an amazing idea, it might help me. So read, review, and give me your thoughts on this, Mondi A Parte, and Ordinary. Any spelling errors are my own. Please review. It will make me update faster.

Disclaimer. I don't own Ten Inch Hero or its characters. I'm just using them for my free time hobby of writing. I do however own Nike and her family.

It Could Be Fate

Chapter 1: Because of You

Sometimes, I wonder why the world is so cruel. I mean, growing up with an abusive father, having your family ripped out from under you, and your best friend who helped you get away from said father having to move to California sucked royally. To top all of that off, my name is Nike. Like the freaking shoe. Or like the Greek Goddess of victory, which I didn't have a lot of. Actually, I had none of that, thank you very much.

I pondered over these topics as I moved across the country. To Cali. I was finally able to get away. Being a twenty year old girl who was beat by her father was uncommon, and not to mention humiliating. It's not like the people in the town didn't know, because they did. They were just too big of pansies to do anything about it.

My father was a powerful man. He owned half the town. A thing I learned about powerful men is that they like to party…And get drunk. When my father got drunk, he got angry. He killed my mother on one murderous rampage. My older brother, Dylan, got away. I was less fortunate. I had to stay with that man for three more years after Dylan left.

Things were okay back in high school. I had Priestley. Priestley was my spunky, wacky, kilt wearing best friend. Sometimes, I think I wished he was more than that, but I knew that he could do better than me. I practically lived at Priestley's. He knew what was going on at home, and he did his best to get me out of that. Until he had to move our senior year.

My eighteen-year-old self ran up to Priestley and into his open arms. "Hey Priest." I said, large smile on my face. "Your house tonight? It is Friday."

His green eyes looked down, avoiding mine. "Yeah, listen. Nike, I'm moving. I don't have a choice. My dad got a job down in California and I have to go with to help take care of Madison." He sighed. "We're leaving first thing tomorrow morning."

I backed away from him, mouth agape. "Priestley, you can't. What am I gonna do?" I tried to keep myself from crying. "You're my only hope."

"I know, Nike. And I promise I'll keep in touch, I'll do my damn hardest to get you out of that home." He said with such conviction and promise, that I had no choice but to believe him.

I nodded, placing myself back in his open arms. "I believe you, Priestley. I do."

I laughed darkly to myself at the memory. Priestley kept in touch, sure. For half a year. My father found out that I was talking to 'that freak' and changed the numbers on the phone, telling me I was forbidden from speaking to 'that boy' who was trying to take me away from him. Priestley was my only hope, and he never got the chance to pull through. I never blamed him. It was my father's fault.

I bit my cheek to keep from crying again. "I got away. I'm starting new." I whispered to myself. I noted a passing sign. Santa Cruz, California. Here I come, freedom.

~Don't mind me, I'm just a line break~

I walked out of the hotel I was crashing at temporarily until I could find an apartment. But first I needed a job. I was going job hunting today, and apartment hunting tomorrow.

After about three hours of nothing, I came across a small sub shop. It was called Beach City Grill. I took note of the sign that read, 'Help Wanted: Normal People Need Not Apply' and walked in, smiling to myself.

There were four people behind the counter. One girl with reddish brown hair, she was pretty. Another girl with short blonde hair, sitting behind a computer, she was cute. The third girl had red hair and a bandana. She was currently painting a mural on the wall. The older man—who looked to be in his forties—smiled at me from behind the counter. "Can I help you, sweetheart?"

"Uh, yeah. I need a job." I said sheepishly. I wasn't used to fending for myself. Or being out in the real world by myself, really. My dad kept me under pretty strict tabs. I wasn't allowed out by myself for fear of people asking questions, or me running away.

"Sure. What's your name?"

"Um… Nike."

"Like the shoe?"

"Sadly." I said bitterly. My name was my father's idea.

"Alright, Nike. I have one question for you. If you answer correctly, you got the job."

"Okay, shoot."

"Elvis. Is he dead or alive?"

I shook my head, that question reminded me of Priestley. "What kind of question is that? Everyone who has any sort of brain knows that Elvis is, in fact, very much alive."

The man nodded. "Good. You got the job. Can you start tomorrow?"

"Yes, sir." I nodded. "Thank you."

"No problem, Nike. By the way, I'm Trucker. The one behind the computer is Jen. The one painting is Piper, and the last one is Tish. We have one more worker, but he's not here yet. He'll want to introduce himself to you." Trucker smiled at me. The three girls waved.

"Welcome to the family." Piper said, putting down her paint brush and wiping her painted hands on a rag.

"Thank you." I turned to Trucker. "Uh, Trucker?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know any decently priced apartments around?" I asked, avoiding eye contact. It was something I did because of my father. I wasn't allowed to look him in the eye.

He studied me for a long moment. His eyes zeroed in on a large scar protruding from the neckline of my shirt, running to stop behind my left ear. I covered it self-consciously. "No, I can't do that to you, angel. You can stay here at the shop. Free of charge."

My eyes watered. I bit my cheek. "Why would you be so nice to a stranger?" I asked quietly. "I could be some serial killer."

He smiled. "I doubt that." His face became serious. "Because, I don't sense anything bad about you. I have one condition about it though."

"Yeah, what is it?" I asked warily. If he was some pervy old man looking to get laid, I would go elsewhere.

"You need to tell me where that came from. You don't have to tell anyone else, just me. I can keep secrets, and I want to protect you from whoever did it." He said, a dangerous glint in his eye. He seemed like a very protective person. "Plus, I need some good karma."

I nodded. Maybe talking to Trucker about my dad would help me cope. "Okay. Thank you, Trucker." I said quietly.

"No problem, kiddo. Where are you staying? The girls can take you to get your things."

"Uhm, a hotel called the Maverick Inn. It's about a mile away."

"Alright. Girls?" he said, turning to the three women. "Why don't you go with Nike to get her things?"

"Sure Trucker." Jen said. "Can you handle the shop by yourself for a bit?"

"Of course. Plus, Zo is coming by later. She can help me." He said, a faint smile on his face. Zo must be someone important to him.

"Alright, come on, Nike." Tish said, grabbing my arm and pulling me to an old Volkswagen van covered in bumper stickers that was parked out back. "This is the Cosmobile." She said proudly. "It's awesome."

We drove in silence to the hotel. When we got there, Tish parked in front of the room that I instructed her to. "I'll be right back. I don't have much, so it won't take me long." I said, climbing out of the van.

As I walked to the room, I thought. What if these girls didn't like me? What if they thought I was a freak? I ran a hand through my sandy blonde hair. What if they thought I was homeless with what little I did have? I guess I was kind of homeless, living in a hotel and all…

"Stop it, Nike." I whispered to myself, throwing everything into my bag. I looked around the room one last time to make sure I had everything and then left.

The girls looked at me with sympathy with the one duffel bag of belongings I brought out to the van. "Who's up for a shopping trip this Saturday?" Tish asked. "We can help you pick out some things, Nike. It can be a girl's day out for us all to get to know you."

"If you would like to." I said, a small smile on my face. These people made me feel like I was a part of a family. "That sounds great. I've never been shopping before."

Truth was, I never really actually had. My father had a nanny type person get everything for me. He didn't want me out in public too often to raise suspicion about what he was doing to me. The only time I got to go was if my dad was with.

"Well, not without my dad." I added as an afterthought.

"Your dad seems pretty protective." Jen stated.

I scoffed. "Yeah, you could say that."

When we got back to the shop, I noted the extra car that wasn't there before. Tish laughed. "He finally decides to show up." She grabbed my bags. "Come on, I'll show you around your new home."

Once she was done showing me around upstairs, we went down to the shop. "Hey, Tish," I heard a voice say as we walked down the stairs. "That one dude, uh, John, or whatever stopped by to see you."

"Oh my god, Priestley." Priestley? "What did you say?"
When I got into view of the man speaking, I gasped. I recognized the green Mohawk, witty shirt, jeans, and tattoo. "P-Priestley?"

He whipped around, green eyes lined with eyeliner fixed on me. "Nike?" I stared at him for a long moment before everything went black.

~Don't mind me, I'm just a line break~

"Is she okay?" I heard a voice cut through the haze in my head. "It's been almost twenty minutes."

"Just give her time, Priestley. This is her mind's way of coping from the shock."

I gasped and sat up quickly. "Whoa, Nike. Take it easy." Two very familiar hands pushed me so I was leaning back on the couch. I noted everyone else had vacated the room Priestley and I were in. "Nike, are you okay?"

"I'm much better than I was." I said, smiling. "I finally got away. I'm just wondering how long it will last."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm wondering when he'll find me." I said sadly. "This can't last much longer."

Priestley ran a hand through my waist length sandy blonde hair. "I won't let him get you. Not this time."

"Priestley, I'm sorry."

"What for?" he asked, surprised. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I'm sorry I stopped calling and I'm sorry you ever had to meet me."

"Nike, I'm glad I met you. I'm the one who should be sorry. I promised you that I'd get you out of that house and I never did."

"It's okay, Priest. I know you tried." I said, a sad smile on my face.

"Well, Trucker closed up shop for the night and I should be heading back to my apartment." He made a move to get up.

"Priestley, wait." I caught his hand. "Stay here? With me?"

He searched my face. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure."

"I still have to run home to get clothes and stuff."

"I'll come with." I said, getting up and standing next to him, my hand still in his. He gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

"I'm glad you got away, Nike. You're safe now." He smiled down at my five foot frame. "Everyone here will make sure of that."

"Thank you, Priestley." My phone rang in my pocket. I opened it and sighed with relief. It was Dylan. "Hey, Dyl."

"Hey. Nike, where are you? Dad called me freaking out saying he couldn't get a hold of you and he didn't know where you are."

"I got away, Dylan. That's all you need to know. I'm safe now."

"Thank god. Are you in California?"

"Yeah." I smiled. My big brother knew me well. "Santa Cruz."

"Good. Maybe I'll come see you one day."

"That would be nice, Dylan. I got to go. I love you."

"I love you too. Be safe."

"I will. Bye."

"Bye ankle biter."

I hung up the phone and bit my lip. "Nike? Are you okay?" Priestley asked, ducking his head down so he could look me in the eye.

I nodded. "Yeah. I just miss my brother is all."

Priestley put his hand under my jaw and lifted my head up to look at him. "It's okay to cry, Nike." At those words, the tears fell freely down my face. "Shh. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere, Nike. I'm not leaving you this time." He sighed. "Not this time."