Ragged breaths tore through her body as she stood in front of the door. This was it. She was finally leaving. And like hell did she feel good about it. Still she couldn't help the butterflies that had surfaced as soon as the doctor had come to let her know it was time. She had prepared as best she could. What did you even wear on the day you left treatment? She had been wearing her own clothes all along. Sure it was a special occasion but that didn't exactly mean she was going to get dolled up only to jump straight into a car. She was in the middle of nowhere after all. Surrounded by nothing but forests and a small village somewhere just south of here.

So she had slipped into her trusty pair black jeans and with a loose fitting tank and her favourite loose sweater that provided her with comfort and an ok look all at once. Too long in this place had made her resort to mostly the same thing every day in terms of clothes. She had spent almost a hour in front of the little bathroom mirror, tying up and letting loose the long dark waves that framed her face, finally settling on leaving it down with a beanie stuffed onto her head. All her worrying was mainly due to the fact she didn't know who was collecting her today. Was it her parents? Or her sister? Or who? She didn't have clue, and therefore didn't know how to present herself to them, she didn't know what they would think. It had always been that way with her parents. She had spent years trying to figure out what they were thinking when it came to her. Behind their eyes there didn't seem to be any kind of emotion, no giveaway. And it hurt that they didn't want to show that kind of sentiment. They hadn't wanted anything to do with her. Their own child and they could barely look her in the eye. Why?

Because she was crazy.

At least that was how they had dubbed it. The tears had found their way to her eyes before she had a chance to realize they were welling up. Self soothing was not uncommon to her, it was how she had learned to deal with the rejection. She turned into herself, her own thoughts, which in turn had rounded on her. There was no safe haven. From the people she lived with to the conscience in her head. Everyone hated her. No wonder people had thought she was crazy. She had started to believe she was. That's when it had all gone wrong. She would take it out on herself. The feel of the cold pain across her skin brought her relief if only for a minute. So much so that she would do it regularly. And then she had been found.

That incident in particular she had taken it a step too far. Cut too close to the fatal point. Her hostile parents had come home to find her passed out in the bathroom. The crimson blood leaving sinuous stains against the cream floor tiles. A mess no one should ever have to deal with, but they had. And dealt with it was an understatement. She had woken up in an unfamiliar room, neither a hospital or her own bedroom. But the conspicuous room had turned out to be the best thing to happen to her. She had been put into treatment in order to sort out her head. But she knew her parents had seen it as a way to get rid of her.

Today marked her two year anniversary there and now she was finally going home, or at least back to the house she had grown up in. She couldn't really call it a home anymore, if it had ever been one.

Reaching out she let her fingers grasp the handle and swing the door open. Beams of the morning sunlight shone through and the breeze that followed helped calm her a little. Taking a deep breath she grasped her suitcase solidly and stepped out onto the porch.

Suitcase sitting against the porch steps, she stood wring her fingers in anticipation. Whoever was collecting her wasn't on time, and she could feel those butterflies building back up. Beside her the sweet receptionist was rambling on goodnaturely about how exciting it must be for her to be going home. All she could do was smile absentmindly and nod at intervals, making it seem as if she was paying attention. After the best part of fifteen minutes had passed she let out a sigh and sank onto one of the steps, chin resting on in the palm of her hand. Her so called parents had obviously not bothered to be on time, or maybe it was their way of giving her a subtle hint that nothing had changed between them.

"I'm sorry doll, i'm sure it's just traffic on the highway, shouldn't be too long more."

She smiled up at the woman with a more sincere look this time.

"It's ok Doris, I don't mind the wait. You're probably right, traffic can be a killer if caught at the wrong time can't it."

Neither of them wanted to acknowledge the fact that there wasn't a highway for miles in any direction. When the facility had said it provided reclusiveness they had meant it. The sound of an engine blustering down the drive toward the treatment center made both women look up in ardor. A sleek black range rover pulled up a couple of meters across from the porch. Windows tinted and pulled up, not giving away the occupants. Getting to her feet hesitantly she wondered if this could possibly be her parents. Not that she had ever known them to be the kind to drive cars like this. The new, expensive type that is. She heard the distinctive sound of the drivers door opening and her stomach knotted as her chocolate eyes scanned the framework of the car waiting to see who it was.

After a few seconds of awkward silence between herself and Doris, the tall figure of a man rounded the rear of the range rover. Darkwash jeans filtered into scuffed boots and a grey tshirt hugged a muscular chest. Tanned, athletic and muscled arms hung at his sides with the hands stuffed into his pockets. She let her eyes focus in on his face, dark stubble framed his defined jawline and melted into a head of unruly black hair. She couldn't see his eyes, they were masked behind black wayfarers, matching both his hair and ironically the vehicle he had driven in. Trying to place him her mind was blank. Nothing seemed familiar about the man standing a few metres away and yet even throughout the awkward silence, he didn't seem to look as uncomfortable as she felt.

His right hand pulled out of it's grasp on the pocket and waved in a friendly salute. She felt her face contort into a puzzled frown. He seemed to catch on and his hand paused halfway.

"Do you know this young fellow?" whispered Doris.

She wasn't sure how to react to the question. Something pulled at her to say she did but that was no help. The young man in question began to take hesitant steps towards them.

"Demi?" his deep voice called in half a question.

Her eyes shot back to him from Doris as something at her heartstrings screamed at her. She opened her mouth to reply as he reached a hand and removed the wayfarers from hiding his full facial features. A pair of deep brown eyes almost identical to hers looked at her full of concern and warmth. Something she hadn't expected.

"Dems, it's me."

His hand pressed against his chest as if to emphasize the fact but there was no longer a need to. Her heart had finally gotten it's message through and his name fell from her lips in a gasp.

"Aaron.."

All hesitation vanished from her being as his mouth formed a massive grin in her direction. Blinking away the tears for the second time that day Demi launched herself forward, closing those few metres between them and throwing her arms around the neck of her older brother. Letting her face sink into his shoulder, breathing in everything about him as the tears fell.

She felt an overwhelming sense of belonging as his arms wrapped around her, cinching her into a bearhug. She couldn't help it as the light sobs began to wrack her.

"It's ok, " he mumbled softly, "you're alright, you're coming home now."

And she knew she was.