Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters, ideas and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Prologue:

"A kiss always means something!"

Mid-run, she momentarily lost her balance as the accusatory statement that acerbically slid past her lips exactly one year ago, reverberated almost painfully in her head. Her hands shot out to stop her fall and her palms roughly scraped against the graveled surface, nicking herself in the process.

Her breathing doubled up due to the amount of hysterical tears she shed – hyperventilation caused by emotional stress, she mentally supplied. A few hiccups were emitted as the simple act of breathing became an arduous task and she collapsed to her knees.

"Always be aware of your surroundings when you're alone at night. Always!"

One of the many warnings her father imparted rang loud and clear but she didn't care. Not now. Not when her heart felt like it had been ripped right out of her chest, torn into two dozen pieces and stomped on, turning into dust.

The betrayal stung.

The lies!

The heartbreak…

"That's all I was. A rebound," she cried to herself, each word interspersed with brutal sobs. All those fancy words he used, they all amount to the same thing, that she was simply a fucking rebound. "I thought he was different."

"I thought he was the one," she mournfully wailed as the cold wind slapped her face.

Still kneeling, tearful chocolate eyes scrutinized her palms, eyeing the drops of blood in morbid fascination and, for a brief moment – a moment that later on in life, she would regret the maudlin and pathetically weak fantasy her broken mind evoked in regards to utilizing suicide as an escape – she imagined the edge of a knife sliding past her wrists and wait for death to relieve her.

She blinked and a fresh batch of tears cascaded down her face.

Struggling to inhale and exhale, the incident that occurred over an hour ago hit her like a tsunami, its attack relentless and unforgiving as it forced her to relive and remember.

Dressed to impress, makeup and hair done to the nines, she elegantly slid out of the car, thanked the cabbie and paid him, her exuberance and genuine happiness prompting her to hand over a generous tip. Sauntering into the lobby, she beamed at the sight of the familiar face and rushed over to his embrace.

Pulling back, Glen squeezed her hand, his customary mischievous smirk materializing as he said, "You got me all worried, V. I called you two days ago." He dragged a hand through his honey-blonde hair, his smirk sliding off, "Our commanding officer wants us back out there once the weekend's done."

"Shit! That's not even two days," she hissed, her left hand rubbing her forearm in irritation.

Glen sighed, giving her a nod of commiseration, "Sorry, doll."

"I had some family business to take care of, otherwise I'd've been here the moment you called," she mumbled, mostly to herself. Shaking her head, she forced herself to think positive thoughts. She still had tonight and all of tomorrow, any time is better than no time. "You didn't tell him, did ya?"

His smirked returned tenfold, eyes raking her form in appreciation, prompting her to playfully smack his arm. "Nah. I got your back, V. Steve doesn't know, but it'll definitely be one hell of a surprise." Giggling, she nodded and, throwing her arms over him for one last hug, she began to make her way to the elevator, his voice calling after her, "Lemme see you before we get deployed, eh?! Don't let Doctor Love keep you all to himself."

"I make no promises, Glen!" she called back, a lewd grin on her face.

Glen was a Navy SEAL, and basically, as pathetic as it may sound, the only friend of Steve's that made an actual effort to get to know her. In fact, he liked her so much, he appointed himself as her wingman and ended up becoming one of her closest friends, a miraculous feat since, due to her lifestyle, friends were frowned upon and rare to come by.

The last time Steve was off-duty, it was over three weeks ago, and he surprised her. That weekend was one of the best weekends of her life. Before he got deployed, she made Glen promise to give her a call on their next break so that she could surprise Steve and the day had finally arrived.

A radiant smile blossomed on her face as she knocked on Steve's hotel room and, like an eclipse, the sunny smile completely disappeared from view when the door swung open to reveal a towel-clad woman.

Usually, one would make the embarrassing conclusion that they had the wrong room, smile awkwardly and walk away in search for the correct one.

Usually…

Unfortunately, she couldn't deny the truth staring right back at her, because she knew that woman. She thought Steve learned his lesson by now. She thought the familiar dark-haired, dark-eyed, smiling boyfriend-stealer had been kicked to the curb the last time Steve fucked up and kissed her exactly one year ago.

"Catherine," she stated in a vitriolic manner, that accursed name leaving behind a sour taste on her tongue. Catherine continued to stare at her with wide eyes, a calculating glint passing through as though she were pondering of the best way to lie herself out of the conundrum of getting caught by the girlfriend. "You know, I'd say I'm going through a case of déjàvu here, but the last time I caught you trying to steal my boyfriend, you at least had the fucking decency to have clothes on!" she viciously spat out, a hand balled into a fist by her side.

Taking a step back, one hand stabilizing the towel from falling, Catherine lifted her other hand, palm facing her in a 'calm down' gesture, "Look, I'll just-, how about I get Stev-"

"Cath? Who is it?" the husky, seductive voice that never failed to generate a plethora of goosebumps from exploding over every sliver of skin on display, now chilled her blood to ice and her heart dropped to her knees when Steve appeared in view.

He was barefoot and had on navy blue slacks that hung loosely from his hips and no shirt, his six-packs, abs, biceps, triceps, pectorals – basically, his Greek God physique was on full display! Trails of water dropped down his naked torso from his wet hair that he was currently trying to dry with a towel.

Entrancing green eyes widened on her and the towel slipped from his grip.

It felt like the entire universe froze on that moment, and she, the pathetic idiot, was clearly in the wrong place.

Clearing his throat, Steve, his eyes never leaving her, addressed Catherine, "Cath, uh, can you give us some, uh, privacy." More than relieved to escape the awkwardness, Catherine immediately fled the room.

She snorted, "Lemme make a wild guess. She's waiting for you in the bedroom for after shower sex." A sarcastic whistle was next to follow. "Damn, and here I thought that was our thing, boyfriend," she sneered.

As though she were a rabid animal, Steve hesitantly made his way towards her, both hands out, palms facing her, his steps calculating, and his eyes wary and assessing. "Let me explain-"

"Oh, don't bother," she lashed out, taking off her stilettos and tossing one right at his chest, the sharp edge piercing him hard enough to bruise and hopefully, leave a cut. "Last year, I caught you two making out, all disgustingly hot and heavy, and you said the exact. same. thing! 'Let me explain'," she mocked. "'Cath and I, it didn't mean anything'. Or, how about my favorite, 'it's you that I want, please, give me one more chance to prove it to you'," she sneered viciously at him, tears unconsciously slipping past her eyelids. "Well, point fucking proven, Steven!" she screamed, tossing her other stiletto right at his forehead, prompting him to duck before its impact.

He quickly pounced on her, strong hands curling around both her wrists and locking them to her sides so that she wouldn't lash out on him again. His voice had a soothing quality that sounded almost forced, "Please just let me-"

Like a deranged person, she shook her head wildly as though she were trying, and failing, to head-butt him, her curly honey-brown locks all over the place. "NO! I told you, I fucking told you. A kiss always means something. But you disagreed. Said it was a mistake, a test of sorts, to see if you still had feelings for that grubby boyfriend-stealing slut! But I loved you so much, I let it go, I renewed my trust in you, and look at us. LOOK AT US, STEVEN!"

"I'M LOOKING! I'M LOOKING!" he bellowed, eyes wild and darkening in his rage. "What do you want me to do? Tell me, I'll do anything, just…just tell me."

"BE A MAN!" she snarled at him. "That's what I want you to do. I want you to fucking man up and stop lying! You owe me that."

Jaw taut, eyes stony and lips pressed together, he gave her a rigid nod and slowly, he released her wrists and took a small step back. That small step was worth more than words and hurt flashed in her chocolate orbs. "You're right. You're right," he murmured, bending his head and dragging both hands into his hair. Exhaling roughly, he turned around and punched the wall before he met her watery gaze, "The truth is. I still love Catherine."

And her heart shattered into more pieces…

"I never…no, I don't think I ever stopped loving her," he ruefully continued, not disconnecting his gaze. "When she left me for Billy, God, I was a mess. And then you came along and, and you helped me breathe easier. You helped me move on, like a balm. But these two years, while I was happy with you, my love for Catherine stuck, and I couldn't-, I tried, believe me I tried! But, I couldn't shake her off."

The entire time Steve delivered those heart-wrenching words, her head bobbed up and down, lips pressed tightly together and tears soaking her face. "And now?" she croaked, hating him, hating Catherine, but most of all, hating herself for sounding so pathetic and weak over a stupid guy!

"She stopped by last night, said she broke it off with Billy because it didn't feel right…not being with me. At first, I tried to refuse her. I wanted to. But…I can't. I'm incapable of letting her go. I gotta give us another shot. We've so much history." And then, he lamely told her the famous last words, "I'm sorry."

Sniffing, she nodded one last time and roughly dragged the back of her hand across her face, "Fuck you, Steve McGarrett. I wish you rot in hell you cheating scumbag! You and that whore of yours." She turned to leave, but hesitated. Looking over her shoulder, she took in his shocked and guilty expression and spat out, "She's gonna leave you again, Steven. It's her M.O. Leaving is hardwired in her DNA. My only wish, is that when she leaves your ass again, I have front row seats to your heartbreak, jackass!"

And with those biting words, she fled, leaving behind the love of her life, the broken pieces of her heart and her stilettos without a backward glance.

And she ran, and ran, and ran, and then ran some more. For over an hour, she just…ran.

And here she was: broken and bleeding on the ground, unable to recover from her heartbreak and utterly lost.

Letting out another painful sob, she reached for her phone and called the first person that came to mind.

The phone rang for a couple of seconds, before-

"Hello?"

She let out another pathetic sniffle, "Hi, it's-it's me…"

"Ivy? What's wrong? Why do you sound like you're crying, where are you?" he shot off in rapid succession, concern coloring his accented voice.

"I don't know. Somewhere in Montana."

A grunt echoed from the other end, "All right. I'll track you down, don't go anywhere."

"Okay. And Victor?" she quickly cried out. "Please hurry. I need you."

A/N: Don't really have much to say except that this is my latest masterpiece that came to me and just wouldn't go away. I hope you enjoy it, and I'll try and update it weekly.

To those wondering about my other stories, I am not abandoning them. They are all going through a thorough editing process but hopefully every week I'll get one or two of them updated. Until then, enjoy this one! XD

Ivy Winchester's face-claim is Nina Dobrev! ;)

R&R.