Title | Loveless
Rating | Rated: M
Genre | Hurt/Comfort/Romance

Disclaimer | Hello, I do not own Twilight. I do not own the songs or any books mentioned throughout the story. All Twilight Characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. I have not, nor will I ever own any of the Twilight Characters. I do however own the OOC Characters. Please keep that in mind. Please No Copyright; 2011, All Rights Reserved. No printing or redistribution allowed. Do not post anywhere else. Do not plagiarize.

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Summary | She didn't know where she is from, or what she is capable of. She knew her name was Loveless and that no one wanted her. She reached out for help, - a half brother. He turned her down, laughed at her. And now Samuel Uley has no choice but to take her, regret in his voice. Can it be made better? Can Loveless find love with a family and home?

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NOTES | Alpha Order | Inner Wolf | 'Talking in Mind Link'

Chapter One | Love-less

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I'm like ninety percent sure this is where I should tell you it isn't one of those stories. That my story is special. That I'm one of a kind. That everyone loves me and I'm popular. That my family could totally be picket fence worthy. And my dog - Titan - is a big and beautiful Mastiff, who is amazing with people and very protective of me. I get straight A's . . . Well I sometimes get a B. But you cannot blame me for that! Chemistry is really difficult. And the teacher plays favorites. That's not my fault though, is it?

But there is a flaw in my story. Then again, doesn't every story have some sort of flaw? Something that gives away the truth hidden behind lavish lies. It's like a shiny, perfect family photo. If you were to try hard enough you could pull off that layer of shine.

Everything has layers. Each layer is different. They show you a different side that finally comes together to complete a whole thing or person. I have layers. Some make me who I am. Some hide the worst parts of me. And yes, there are even some layers I have yet to discover.

I should be honest with you. I have to be honest with someone right? And it sure as hell won't be the therapist who tells me something is wrong and that's okay. I have a couple choice words for her - she's not big on profanity though.

Honesty is supposed to create a layer of trust. So let me start off by saying . . . There is no one else I will be sharing this story with. Just you. I know you won't judge me for my thoughts or actions. And I know you will stay with me until the end of this story . . . where ever it is taking us.

And let me go ahead and get this out of the way . . . I never had picket fences. My grades were damn good though. I didn't get home cooked meals. I don't need a bleeding heart - therapist thinks differently - I don't have one either. I never had a dog, sure as hell never wanted a cat. My life wasn't all bright colors and happy songs. But it wasn't all bad either.

I have two really good friends that will go to the ends of the earth and back. That's all I need. I don't need the picket fence. The happy walls and laughter filled homes. Never had it, so I wouldn't know what I'm missing anyway.

I guess . . . I should also tell you a couple of other things. I don't care about my layers anymore. I don't care what people see in me. I don't care what they think I could be, who I should be, or what I will be. It is none of their business. I'm tired of being messed with. Prodded like a specimen in a clear jar.

They seem to think they can fix me the longer they prod. The issue? I'm not broken. I'm pissed off.

I should start at the beginning. That's where most stories start . . . But that isn't where this one will. The beginning is boring and filled with laughter and my baby pictures. We unfortunately are going to be starting a little closer to the middle - that's because it's where my entire world went upside down.

So . . . Here we go, somewhere in the middle. And remember, I'm on the ride with you. I have know idea where we are going to end up either.

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August 15, 2014 | 8:26 AM

Office of Dr. Annabella De'Luca

The fresh scent of lavender Febreeze fill the air. A clock ticked away in the background. The air blew in from the vents - keeping the room nice and cool. A large couch sat across from two leather chairs - a coffee table in between the chairs and another in between the couch and chairs. The walls were white, while the floor was a soft beige color. A computer sat on top of a large oak desk off to the left side behind the leather chairs - another leather chair sat behind the desk. Long and wide book shelves surround three of the four walls in the room - each shelf filled to the max with thick over-baring books.

It would have easily been called a doctor's office. And it was. There was no faking it or hiding the truth. A doctors office was stuffy and ill-comforted. It was a place made to make you feel comfortable, but you never did. It was sterile and cold. It was a sad illusion with their touches of human paintings and a family photo here and there.

"Well?" Doctor Annabella questioned with a tender smile on her face. She was poised with her legs crossed at the knee. A clipboard rested on her lap. Doctor Annabella had long ago given up taking notes. The other never talked. She had jotted down a few things. A couple things should could gather from the other's position and facial expressions. But most of the file was blank.

The brunette that sat across from the therapist blinked innocently. "Yes?"

"I was hoping to have a short discussion today." Doctor Annabella smiled brightly. "With this being our last session and all." Her overly white teeth gleamed under the fluorescent lighting. Her shoulders were relaxed, though she felt nothing of the sort. The one across from her was brittle and more like a coiled viper ready to attack. "Do you not have anything you want to say? Miss Uley?"

The brunette's eyes narrowed. "Wickers," she snapped.

"Oh," her eyes lip up as a bright smile covered her happy features. She bounced slightly in her seat - as she did in every session. "Very well. Miss Uley-Wickers." Doctor Annabella gave the other a wide smile at the prospect of an actual conversation.

"Wickers," she snapped once more, putting more emphasis on the singular name. She knew why the other had lit up like a tree on Christmas Eve. It was the first time she had spoken since they had began these ridiculous meetings over 2 and a half months ago meeting on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at 8 in the morning. She was a special case.

Doctor Annabella took a soothing breath for show and gave the other a soft smile. "Yes, Miss Uley-Wickers." She pronounced each syllable as if it was one in its own. She gave the brunette a wide and expectant smile. It is a start. Maybe I can get something out of the next 30 minutes or so.

"I'm not an Uley." Her dark blue eyes narrowed, near glacial blue - like blue shards of ice that flew up when two icebergs hitting for the first time. It was chilling, with a dark allure hidden in the murky depths.

Doctor Annabella arched a thin shaped eyebrow. This was the most she had heard the girl say - period. She looked down at the yellow legal notepad and the manila file folder sitting on top of the clipboard on her lap. "Your files say you are. When your father called Child Services he registered you as an Uley." Her dark brown eyes scanned over the files quickly. "No where on the paperwork does it say you are a Wickers."

"He's was dumb-ass." The younger quipped, eyes narrowed as if daring the other to counteract her. She sat back in her seat on the leather couch. She didn't want to be there - and she made sure the Good Doctor knew it.

The elder blinked slowly, "no profanity please." She looked down at her yellow legal notepad and frowned. We are getting no where. "Would you like to talk about your father?" Doctor Annabella shifted slightly in her seat. "About what happened? How you are feeling?"

"I don't have one."

"Yes you do Miss Uley-Wickers." Doctor Annabella tried again.

She let out a slow hissing breath. The Doctor was trying her last patience. "This is the last time I will tell you I am a Wickers." Her eyes narrowed. "And no I don't. He killed himself. Dead father equals no father." Her head cocked to the side. "I thought you were the therapist here."

"Once having a father is not the same as not having one at all." Doctor Annabella supplied while keeping her head level and calm. She would not feel threatened by a poor little girl that didn't know how to handle her emotions. "How do you feel?"

Her nose scrunched. "Like our last session is taking longer than it should." Her smile was sharp and tight. Her eyes glared with an intensity that gave way to an age her young soul should not have known.

"Don't you feel, with this being our last session, that you should say something?" Doctor Annabella jotted down a couple words in her file for the next Therapist that would be taking over. And she would be following up to make sure the brunette stayed in therapy.

She heaved a sigh, loud and long. She wanted it known that she had no intention of talking about feelings. "You should have your license revoked." Her eyes were bland as she looked at the wall filled with awards. "You don't help. Nor do you have any kind of insight either."

"I cannot give advice if the other does not offer up a problem." Doctor Annabella rebutted smoothly. "You have not said anything." Doctor Annabella's smile dropped slightly as the silence prolonged. "How does all of this make you feel?" She tried once more.

She rolled her eyes and snorted, "I do believe your time is up Doctor, permanently." She stood and walked towards the door - Doctor Annabella close behind. She stopped short as the door opened. "Who is this?" Where is the usually lady that picks me up to take me back to the orphanage - this one is to dark skinned.

Dr. Annabella De'Luca smiled brightly once more. "I am so glad that you could make it on such short notice." Her dark brown eyes twinkled. "I hope it wasn't too much trouble." Her smile stayed in place as they both turned towards the third female.

I'm really getting sick of her smiles. And what does she mean short notice? The brunette's eyes narrowed as she stared at the two older women.

"I found some of your relatives." Her eyes shined brightly. "On your father's side." Doctor Annabella smiled, proud of herself. She looked back at the elderly woman - her smile widening. " I talked with the case worker - for your case." Annabelle held her arm out and squeezed the brunette's shoulder. "We both agreed that this would be a smoother transition than to put you fully in the system and into foster care for a a little under a year."

What? Her eyes narrowed as she returned to her former stance of glaring. She yanked her shoulder from Doctor Annabella's grasp. The Good Doc was on her hit list now. There will be a slew of profanities to leave my mouth if she says Uley.

"They have agreed to take you in. His name is Samuel Uley and his wife is Emily Uley." She smiled brightly - like a kid that had just won the biggest lollipop in the world. Doctor Annabella turned slightly and gestured to the lady next to her. "This is Sue Clearwater. She will be taking you to them." Doctor Annabella turned back towards the brunette gauging her reaction.

Sue Clearwater smiled brightly, "It is so mice to meet you Loveless." Her features were worn with age, more prominent with the smile. Her eyes were lurked with a cleverness that came with time and hard work. Her voice was worn from well use and plenty of laughter.

Dr. Annabella's smile disappeared. Her back stiffened as she waited. There would be no way around this part. And the poor girl couldn't change her name herself . . . yet.

"Excuse me?" Her tone brooked no playful attitude. Her eyes were narrowed as a dark edged slithered in. Her shoulders were pulled up, muscles taut and ready to fight. "I don't care who the hell you think you are . . ." She hissed out as she moved closer. "I will hit you." Her eyes narrowed. "You won't get up. And I won't care." She growled, hands curled into fists. I hate that name.

Loveless heaved a small sigh and took to ignoring the other two women as Doctor Annabella took control of the conversation once more. She crossed her arms and waited.

. . .

I told you my life wasn't picket fence worthy. My mother - Susan Shore - named me that as a way to get back at my father. She wasn't the best mother. She liked to take his infidelity out on me. I'm not the one who cheated and left her alone to raise a child cause I couldn't get me act together.

My father was Joshua Uley - or Manwhore - depending on my mood. He was. Everyone knew it. He was from a small reservation and he got around. He met Susan on a trip with a group of his friends. They hooked a few times. Susan wanted picket fences and wedding bells. Joshua got lost.

Doctor Annabella Maria De'Luca - cause who needs to know a strangers full name? - would loose it if she knew that I was finally talking to some - especially since you don't have the qualifications to help me. Oh well, I like the idea of messing with her. She's too happy and too preppy. And besides, I feel like I'm secretly pissing her off.

Once Joshua left her . . . some probably would have called it depression while pregnant. Depression is common on her side of the family, and when you added that to a broken heart and single mom. Yeah. Susan turned bitter. She didn't care about herself or me. Some doctors considered me a miracle child. I know she drank and I know she uses. No, she's not dead - just doesn't want me.

I was five when Susan up and decided it was time I spent quality time with Joshua. Susan dropped me off on Joshua's doorstep with a rapid knock and a quick wave goodbye. She didn't bother to check if anyone was home that day.

Joshua and Candy weren't the best. Doctor Annabella played around with two words - physically abusive. I have neither confirmed or denied those two words for her. But, I have to build a bridge of honesty for us on this ride. And Honesty builds trust . . . right? Those two words are correct. And I have the scars on my back to prove it.

I still remember that day. It had been boring and utterly grey. It had rained for the most part. I'd come home to silence - which was rare. Joshua was a yell-er and Candy was a throw-er. Perfect pair. I remember standing inside the house, having just closed the door. The clock on the wall ticked as the rain pelted the house. The light hum of the AC was the only noise.

For a moment I had been terrified. Had they really left me like Susan did? And that was when I saw it. The trail of blood leading into the living room. I didn't get far. The knock on the door - It's the police open up - stopped me before I could go further. Honey, are you the one that made the call? I had been confused. What call? I just got home. Honey come out here, this is Marrissa Davis - she's with Child Care Service. I'm seventeen, not three.

From what they washed over and blurred over, Joshua lost it and killed them both. He had also - during a moment of clarity, had decided to put me up for adoption. I had been beyond outraged. What supposed parent puts a seventeen year old in the system! It wasn't too long after that did I meet Doctor Annabella Maria De'Luca - a useless therapist.

I still don't understand the need for her. Did I kill my wife and then myself? Did I beat my daughter? Did I name my daughter Loveless? Am I a murder? No. The answer to all of these questions are no. I am not the one who had the issues. It was Joshua and Susan.

Okay... Better? Plus it is longer!