This story is to elfmaidenfourlegs. I'm uploading this just because this idea won't stop wracking my brain. I'm not sure how far apart these uploads will be with school and my brand new spankin' pups, but I'll try and update faster with feedback.
~ Percy Williams (Previously known as MaChriska and Charlie Gordon.)
Just a few things before you begin reading this story. Firstly, The Milestone never happened to Olivia. And secondly, John-Boy is still Richard Thomas.
Disclaimer: I don't in any way, shape, or forms own the Walton's settings or characters. I just take joy in playing with Earl Hamner's characters.
Rated T for suggestive scenes and dialogue.
Olivia has always felt there was something strange about Son Slater. The way his piercing green eyes looked at her daughter Mary-Ellen, and the way they hounded over her. John had always said that she was uncommonly pretty; even that her looks flocked men, but she never thought it could also attract the wrong kind.
Now, Olivia sweeps out the shed that she kept her and Grandma's gardening tools in, the dust came out in large clouds of brown particles. She'd needed to clean this out for awhile, but never got around to it with her after symptoms of tuberculosis.
All the children, except Erin, were gone. Jim-Bob and Elizabeth were at school, Mary-Ellen took John-Curtis to do her rounds on the mountain. Ben was off with his daddy delivering wood for the mill, and Jason, honky-tonking with Bobby Bigellow in Rockfish. Olivia still couldn't figure out what was so great about Rockfish.
She opens the door to find Erin skipping out into the front yard wearing a blue summer dress, her purse slung over her shoulder. "Erin! We're you off to?"
"Work, Momma," she stops and jogs over to the shed Olivia now stands outside of. She descends the steps, coming over to Erin and fixing her barrette. "I have to go in early. J.D. Pickett says he's so busy he doesn't even know what to start working on first! I've gotta get down there and straighten things out." She kisses her cheek.
"Alright, just be careful okay Erin?" Olivia calls after her daughter.
"I will Momma. Don't worry," with a toss of her hair, Erin hops into Jason's car, and was on her way.
Olivia shakes her head. That girl sometimes stunned her at how much she was like her as a girl, but sometimes it struck her that they could be so different. She just runs a hand over her thick red hair and turned back to her sweeping, beginning to hum.
She sweeps until she has a giant pile of dirt that reached from her bare feet on the ground to her ankle in the threshold, and then shoos it out with one swift motion. She sighs, going down the steps once more, and closes the door to the shed. Olivia nearly screams when she sees who's behind it.
"What are you doing here, Slater?" She tries to muster up all of her bravery, though really she has none. She is all alone on her property except for Reckless that old hound. John would be gone all day, as would Mary-Ellen and probably Erin as well. Jason was Jason and no one really knew when he was coming home.
He watches as she self-consciously grips the wooden handled broom tighter, the bristles scrape against the steps, emitting a hissing sound. Son smiles. He could sense her fear.
"What are you doing here all alone, Miss Walton," he sneers, grinning his gold tooth capped smile.
"I'm not alone, and I'd like you to get off of this property, Slater," she growls this through gritted teeth, all of her confidence nearly gone. Olivia felt herself begin to tremble. 'Oh, no, Olivia, breathe. It's alright calm down. You can handle this. Just use your broom…'
"By what I see you are Missus Walton," again he smiles; his eyes linger down her body.
Olivia doesn't know what possesses her to do it, but she takes a step forward, and swings her broom at him, just close enough to scare him. 'I wish John were here…'
"Hey, now, you're a feisty one ain't ya?" he takes the broom firmly in his grip, before he wrenches it from her hands and throws it to the side. "Now, why were you out spreadin' lies about me, Missus Walton?" Son asks this of her as if he were inquiring what the weather was going to be like tomorrow. She cringes back, as he leans forward. He smells of peaches, woods, and smoke, his breath of candy mints.
She stood stock-still on the last step, still looking down at him a bit. But Son was a tall man.
"I wasn't spreading lies. I was spreading the truth. Sheriff Bridges needed to know what you'd done to that poor girl. She deserves justice. And you deserve a jail cell," she couldn't believe she was talking to him with such vigor in her voice; she was petrified on the inside.
'That's it Olivia. You're doing great. Just get him to leave. Tell him you'll call the police. That's it. That'll scare him off.'
"Is that right?"
Son inches forward, the wind blows and thrusts the door open behind her. The bang against the wood startles her, and he laughs. He is still moving toward her, her feet moving on their own accord. She knows she shouldn't be backing up, but it is all she can think to do when he won't stop invading her space.
"I said get off my property." She feels herself being propelled backward by the decreasing distance between them; he was so close she could almost feel him against her. He keeps pushing until she trips on the last step up, falling hard on her back. The wind gets knocked out of her. She can't move as he towers above her. And she doesn't even want to think about what she knows is going to happen next if she doesn't get herself out of there.
'Scream Olivia!' Her eyes widen and she opens her mouth, but nothing comes out as he takes her wrists and pins them above her head, clamping is dirty hand over her mouth. She can taste the peach juice on his finger tips; smell the intoxicatingly sweet smell that has seeped into his pores. It makes her sick.
'He's going to rape you, and you're going to let him? Kick him, scratch him, anything!'
"No," she shouts beneath his hand and kicks her left foot up, connecting it with his stomach. She's never in her life physically hurt someone before, it was against her nature, but she figured now would be a good time to start. Olivia couldn't believe she'd even let herself get to this position.
"Oh," his arms went for his abdomen and he hunches over before he looks up at her with a wicked grin. "You got me good there!"
Olivia takes no time to scramble to her feet, managing to get around him, nearly to the door. But a strong hand wraps around her left ankle like a shackle, and he drags her back down. She still tries to get away from him, grunting as she exerts all the energy she has in her escape.
"Let go of me," she hollers, yanking at her ankle. But he twists it, and she falls with a thud. But she's determined. She kicks again, at his face with her right foot, but he grabs it and he flips her over in a one clean motion, lunging on top of her.
"You're a feisty one. You are a feisty one. I like that," he lowers himself on her, crushing her with his weight. Son takes a hand and pins her wrists above her head again, taking his other hand to rip her shirt.
"No, please," she screams and desperately trying to writhe beneath him.
But he doesn't budge as she continues to wriggle, and his hand suddenly slips to the button of her pants. She feels it slip open and closes her eyes as the black fabric is thrown above her head, her orange button down with it.
"No, please! Don't do this Slater! No!" She begs him loudly, but her arms are still heavily pinned above her, and tears are running down her cheeks. So, she does the only thing she knows how to do in dangerous situations. She screams at the top of her lungs.
"Go ahead and scream. Ain't no one around to hear you," he snickers.