When darkness turns to light, it ends tonight.

-The All-American Rejects

She called him an angel in her mind when he was eight and she was seven.

She had been playing by the pond near a house owned by a friend of her Mommy called Helen Rosemond when she slipped and twisted her ankle. As she fell down, she gripped her ankle with pale small hands and gritted her teeth before yelling out in pain. Tears spilled from her green eyes and her ankle began to throb while it turned an alarming shade of red, her skin scraped the rocks and her pretty dress was stained with mud and blood.

He saw her first before her nanny came running.

"Shit!" he cried out and they locked eyes, clear blue with a pair of distressed, green ones.

"Hurts…" she whimpered, biting the insides of her cheeks.

He pushed up the sleeves of his shirt and went down to where she lay, his blond curls fell into his eyes while she noticed his jaw muscles clench and unclench. He maneuvered his way without slipping, although it was clear that he was as alarmed as she was.

When he reached her, he bent down and stared down at the pretty little girl he had never seen before and briefly wondered who she was and how come he had this urge to help her (and get his clothes wet and dirty in the process) when he had never extended a hand out to just anybody. As his small hand was placed on her shoulder, he used the other one to wipe the tears from her eyes.

"Hey… It's okay…" he shushed her, brushing back the brown bangs from her forehead. "I'll get you out of here, I promise…"

"Don't leave me! Is it… Is it broken?" she asked in a small voice, indicating her injury.

He scratched his head, "Uh… I don't know… There's a path from here, it's a longer one but I can carry you on my back so you won't have to walk. Can you move?"

"M-my nanny…"

"Your nanny?" he questioned with a smirk, "Does she happen to have bright red hair and brown eyes?"

"Yes…"

"My dad's talking to her and usually he takes a long time when he's talking to girls."

"I'll have her fired." Muttered the girl darkly, "She shouldn't have left me alone."

"I'll carry you right now, okay?"

She feels slightly heavy but he doesn't complain. He smells kind of okay for a boy, she thinks to herself. Slightly sweaty and all that. She doesn't find him gross like she does all the other boys. Besides, this one just feels different to her.

Minutes later she sat down with her bandaged ankle and a sour look on her face. Her hands feel like they're on fire because of the antiseptic dabbed on her cut and she winced when the boy sat down beside her.

"Why're you frowning? Is it your foot?"

"No. My hand. It hurts. I cut it pretty badly."

"Oh. Okay. Hold on."

He left and came back a minute later with his hand sporting a nasty looking gash.

"See?" he grinned that little boy smile of his, "Now we're the same."

She looked at him like he was insane, "Why did you hurt yourself?"

"It's not so bad. Our cuts will heal at the same time. Besides, you won't be alone anymore."

"What's your name?" she questioned.

"Sebastian. You?"

"Kathryn."

---

Kathryn is seventeen.

Her smile lights up the entire room as it had never been lit before, and suddenly every fiber in her petite body is so alive she is simply so happy and weightless. As she moved sluggishly around her bedroom, her clumsy movements cause the perfume bottles to fall and shatter on the floor but she didn't care. A small giggle escapes her mouth and she continues moving. She continues to try finding her way but her feet can't feel the hardwood floor anymore, has she become a ghost? A spirit that just floats and floats without dragging anything behind?

She has an addiction and she knows it, because this new drug her friends have prescribed makes her feel happy for a few moments only to have her pay the price afterwards. This has never happened before, and despite the euphoria of the moment, she knows that this is bad. She has never had broken bottles slicing the skin of her feet while she pranced around the room feeling as though she is flying. She has never had the urge to leap off the balcony just to see if she would float like she is floating now.

A small part of her knows that she can no longer control this urge, this need to snort that new line that will make her forget everything. That part of her is also a bit scared, but she doesn't tell anybody else this.

She hears another crash and momentarily looks back to realize that somewhere along her blurred line of thinking, she has grabbed the ashtray and smashed it against the mirror. She sees her reflection on the jagged pieces of glass and all she ever notices are the dark circles under her eyes and the messy hair, only her perception is distorted more and she feels disgusted at her reflection. Ugly girl. Too fat.

As she finally finds her way to the bed, she wonders how she will fix this when she wakes up. When the new day arrives and her eyes are opened, there will be an unbearable amount of pain clutching her chest (her heart?) because of the after effects of that thing that gave her so much pleasure. Her vision will be clear, but she will no longer feel like she is floating. She will feel the stinging pain of her cut and bruised feet and notice the pieces of everything she'd left last night.

How will she tell people that she is fine?

She's not too worried. She's always known how to take care of herself.

As her fingers clutch the pillow tightly, she turns and closes her green eyes while she slowly drifts off.

She doesn't need anybody.

---

Sebastian is eighteen.

He has just gone home from his date with Annette when he hears the sound of something breaking. It can only mean that Kathryn is furious again, and it is something he didn't want to witness. While he goes to his room, he whistles to himself and remembers the night with his girlfriend, whom he loves (surprisingly) and is happy with.

As soon as he turns the knob however, he is suddenly hit with this feeling, this gut feeling that is now very familiar to him. Something is telling him to go to her room and the warning bells over his head are now ringing very, very loudly.

He turns and pockets the keys to his prized car before knocking on her door, calling out her name tentatively just in case he opens the door while she is about to throw something in that direction (that happened once. It nearly took his head off). When there is no answer, he opens to door just a fraction and is greeted by immediate darkness. A gust of wind from her windows makes him shiver slightly and it seemed as though the temperature had dropped a few degrees the moment he steps in her room. As predicted, the shards of broken things make crunching noises as he steps on them and he only sighs. His nostrils are filled with the smell of spilled perfume and the mixture of different scents makes him cringe, but it isn't what catches his attention.

He almost curses out loud the moment he sees her on her bed, curled up contentedly in her own world of self destruction while the area of the mattress wherein her feet rested showed an ugly stain of red. The crunching sound his leather shoes make goes faster and more abrupt as he sprints to where she is resting, by this time the sense of urgency fills him and he takes her in his arms because for the first time in his life he is scared that she has finally had too much of that thing. Her head only rolls back as his arm rests under her neck, he sits back and she is half leaning on him with her bloody feet and perfectly blank expression. Her face is ghastly white and he bites back a strangled sound that seems to want to escape his throat. Her little dress rides up and exposes her ribs, but still she doesn't move.

"Kathryn," he whispers in desperation, shaking her slightly. "Oh, God… Please wake up … I'm sorry I wasn't here…"

He knows that she has been taking it and he didn't stop her oh fuck why didn't he stop her??

He flips out his cell phone and dials 911 before feeling for a very faint pulse that gave him newfound hope. He brushes back the sweaty brown bangs from her forehead like when they first met and kissed the warm skin there, shutting his eyes tightly.

He doesn't know who he'd be without her because she is his other half and there is no other way to explain it.

He rocks her back and forth and suddenly he feels her fingers brush against his arm faintly.

He opens his eyes and finds her stare directed on him, wide and unblinking.

"Is it broken?" she asks like she is seven years old again and it looks like she is. Her voice sounds far away and he feels like looking at the image of a dream. His throat feels like it is choking up and even though he never cried, he feels like shedding at least one tear because it is all he can give her. But he doesn't cry. That urge builds up in his stomach while his slightly muscled arms are holding on to her tightly.

"Yeah," he murmurs to her like he is the brother she never will have and the protector she will always keep with her, kissing the top of her head over and over again because he is thankful that she is still alive. "It's broken."

You're broken.

"Fix it… Sebastian?" she continues talking and looking at him like she is a child, "Fix me like before… Carry me on your back..."

He feels her hand on his face and it is clammy and cold, but still the skin there is as soft as it had ever been. It reminds him of the blankets his mother wrapped him in as a child right before she died.

"Little boy angel." His stepsister whispers in her raspy voice, "It hurts everywhere."

Suddenly he forgets all about the pretty blonde he'd driven home because as of now, his entire world is confined in this room. As of this moment, his entire world is confined to her, because he knows that even though she will look perfectly put together in the morning, the decaying that is happening to her has already begun on the inside. Up close he can see the slightly parched lips that had always been covered by a thin sheen of gloss and the droplets of moisture on her face even though it is cold in her room. She is still looking at him and her hand rests on his forearm in a gesture that meant she trusts him with the information of her flaws.

"I'll fix it." He pulls the blankets and wraps it around her but she whimpers loudly and shakes her head.

"No. Can't leave like this… Coat…"

He feels like she is breaking his heart even though she isn't doing anything except curl up against him while he prepares to carry her to his car (because the ambulance is taking too long). There are times in his life when he knows that no matter how much of a cliché one might perceive this to be, his stepsister is far from a cliché. She is more than a spoiled brat who is perfect on the outside but rather fucked up on the inside. A woman child of soft brown hair and green eyes that now lies shivering in his arms. He knows more than anyone that she is not a god and that though it may not seem like it, she has her limits. Damn her for cutting things too close, damn her for taking too much and damn her for scaring him shitless like this!

Her body begins to react to the drug in another manner that further scares him. By now tears fall from her eyes freely, although it was not a voluntary shedding of her sorrow. She blinks quickly while silently looking at him. He knows that right now she hates herself for being this weak in front of him just as she knows that no matter how much she hates herself, a part of her is grateful that he is just a door away from her.

He wraps her body in a coat that immediately engulfs her in warmth. As he buttons it from top to bottom, she notices that his hands are shaking. That muscle in his jaw is twitching again and he looks like he is just as scared as she probably is (although neither of them would come out and say it).

"God, Kathryn… It's too much now, I told you… I told you to stop." His voice sounds shaky like his guts are being torn apart. "I told you to fucking stop!"

Her initial reaction is to push him away from her because she doesn't really need a lecture right now, but she picks up on the tone of his voice and understands the concern and fear behind his chastising. As he stands up, he bends his knees and leans toward her slightly.

"I told you to stop it… Why don't you ever listen to me?" He whispers again like he is trying to keep her awake just by annoying her with his lectures.

She lifts her arms just as his slides underneath her and suddenly she is weightless. He carries her securely while she rests her head on his chest, closing her eyes because this is where she is the most comfortable.

Then they are moving. Quickly. Nimbly. She hears his heavy breathing from deep in his chest and he shakes her slightly.

"Don't fucking do this to me, don't you fucking die." He barks, "Don't fucking die!"

She rolls her eyes at his desperation but again smiles at the desperation in his voice.

"You'll miss me?" she rasps.

He stops at her voice and they are in front of his car. He looks down at her and the street light makes her see the deep blue of his eyes. It reminds her of the ocean, and the ocean reminds her of the time she was at the beach and she would lie down and close her eyes to listen to the waves undisturbed by anybody. That is where she does her best thinking.

His eyes are gentle yet somewhat angry, despite the situation (because he thinks she is such a moron to get herself sick like this) he smiles and suddenly there is no more Annette in their lives. It is just like before when he would choose her among any other female no matter how beautiful that female is (of course she thinks nobody is as beautiful as her). Annette Hargrove explodes into a thousand pixels like she is just an imaginary image and soon the night will swallow her up because she is not part of the night. Not like Kathryn and Sebastian are.

"What do you think?" he responds and she closes her eyes.

When she wakes up they are in his car and his eyes are slightly watering like the ocean she liked to listen to as a young girl is threatening to spill from him just so she could do her best thinking again. He is scared and she is in pain. Her heart literally feels like it is being squeezed so hard until it explodes and she wonders if this is what Sebastian and Annette feel when they have a fight. She wonders if this is similar to what people say about love with all their disgusting sentimentality.

He jams his wrist against the horn and the car swerves slightly before it is on the right side of the lane again, his knuckles are turning white and she reaches out and touches his arm to let him know that she is awake.

The simple act causes him to glance momentarily at her and suddenly her heart feels like it has been snapped cleanly into two but with mild surprise she also realizes that it is not because of the drug that one time.

"You're all I have." He states it simply and she only nods because her tongue feels so heavy in her mouth and she can't talk anymore. The rest of the night turns into a blur. She hears him scream and she hears people talk around her, she feels his skin brush against hers while she undoes her seatbelt and she feels herself suddenly lying down on a stretcher. The fluorescent lights of the hospital hurt her eyes and again she blinks to adjust to the brightness. Like the demon angel that he is, his face appears before her ironically surrounded by the hospital lights and he is running with the people bringing her to a hospital room. He is ignoring the nurses while they are yelling at him to stay behind, because suddenly she tastes something metallic in her mouth and she feels something wet drip down from the sides of her lips. She is bleeding. He wipes her blood with his thumb. Now everybody's yelling and screaming, but he remains silent. The panic is clear in his eyes, and for once she is the one person who will give him some form of comfort.

She looks up at him and nods slightly, covering her small hand on his. He turns his hand until their palms meet but before their fingers could close in on each other, they turn a sharp corner and he is cornered by the male nurses.

She sleeps again after that.

---

No years have passed, although it seems like it has. In truth, it has only been a few hours. Kathryn is still seventeen. Sebastian is still eighteen. But they both feel older.

He stares at his thumb, now stained light red from her blood. For the millionth time he brings his other hand up to his curls and his fingers grip the curls there, slightly tugging it. As he closes his eyes, he stares at his ringing phone.

It's Annette.

In a daze he answers it. She knows what has happened and is offering to come stay with him until Kathryn wakes up. How did she know? He doesn't remember calling her but she tells him that he did. Now she is worried about him, but still he persists.

"This is between me and her." He replies and feels remorseful because he can sense how hurt she is. But she doesn't understand. He loves her but she'll never understand.

Finally the doctor appears to meet with him. When he is told that she is sedated and that the drugs have been pumped from her body (for there were a few lingering traces of other drugs… He could kill Blaine for this), he immediately jumps from his seat and walks to her room. He finds her lying down, her pale skin looking sickly and slightly yellow.

Inexplicably she is as beautiful as he had ever seen her.

"Hi." He says quietly and she only looks at him.

"I'm going back to the house to pick up some clothes for you to change into when you leave here." He continues futilely, trying to break her silence. "What do you want me to get?"

"You can say it." She finally says, her voice cold.

"Say what?"

"That I'm stupid. That I'm a stupid fucking junkie to get myself screwed up like this. Say 'I told you so'. You know you want to. Go ahead. Say that I'll owe you for saving me again. Say that I'm just weak and I can't really take care of myself. Go on, Valmont. Let's get this over and done with so we won't have to talk about it when we leave this hospital."

He opens his mouth to respond but suddenly her attention is not on him anymore. Her own mouth drops open and she looks apprehensive while she stares at someone from behind him. Her green eyes widen imperceptibly with fear for a few seconds before the placid expression builds around it.

"Mother." She says quietly. Respectfully.

"Do you know what you've gotten yourself into?" Her mother hisses, staring at her with disgust. "People are starting to talk! You said you could control it, well I've had enough! I'm having you sent away. You're going to a rehabilitation facility tomorrow."

"No!" she gasps, recoiling.

"No!" He echoes along with her, suddenly hating Tiffany more than ever.

"Yes." Snaps Tiffany with another cold glare truly reminiscent of Kathryn's. "You are still a minor and therefore my responsibility. I will have you sent there and you will leave only when I see it sufficient enough that you have kicked your filthy and common habit."

"You can't do that to her!" Sebastian stands up between Kathryn and his stepmother, glaring at Tiffany hatefully. "She's not sick! This was just an accident!"

"I've made up my mind. If she doesn't go I will cut off her inheritance."

He feels her hand on his arm again and this time it is ice cold. She squeezes it slightly and his heart sinks. It is a sign of her acquiescence for now. The greatest leaders knew when to fight and when to back off. He knows that it can actually be good for her but he also knows how the first few initial weeks of rehab can do to a person. She'll be physically ill and alone for the first few weeks and he won't be in the room across her to keep her company.

"The driver will pick you up in the morning." Tiffany finishes coolly, "I've spoken to the doctors and they've all agreed to keep quiet about this. You're such a disgrace, Kathryn. Grow up."

He wants to yell that she has been a grown up ever since she is a little girl but he keeps quiet, only fuming slightly. As Tiffany leaves, he feels her let go of his hand and suddenly she is asleep again.

Like before he brushes back her hair as an almost but not quite brother would do. She breathes evenly and sleeps like her troubles are a million miles away. There is even a barely there smile on her face like she has a secret she doesn't want to tell anybody. As he kisses her forehead, he closes his eyes.

He feels like his heart has also been snapped cleanly into two.

---

Kathryn is seventeen still. Sebastian is still one year older than her.

She curls up in her bed, sweating profusely. Her body is screaming for that drug, that fix but it isn't there. There is only darkness and the rehabilitation center that was her home for only three days. Her hands are shaking and she fidgets with her blankets to try to keep herself preoccupied, but it doesn't work. She feels like she is going to jump out of the window in her restless state. The plastic bracelet feels cold against her skin and she half stumbles out of the room to breathe because she feels constricted inside that big room alone. When she does, she notices a familiar young man standing just a few feet in front of her carrying a suitcase.

He is talking to the secretary there and she smiles to herself because she knows that he has come up with a plan to break her out of there. The secretary reads the blue folder and nods to herself before exchanging a few more words with him.

Her surprise of course cannot be denied when he holds out his wrist and the secretary places a white plastic bracelet like the one she has. But he isn't even taking anything! Filled with shock, she charges over to the desk and places her shaking arms on her hips.

"What are you doing here?" she demands, but then she stops because she sees him up close and notices how his eyes now had dark circles like hers.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

She drags him to where nobody else can hear them and hisses, "Are you fucking insane? You need a legitimate medical record to be admitted here. You're not even taking anything! These people are fucking thorough, Sebastian. You must have bribed some quack to draft those papers for you, but it's not going to work. They're going to find out and you're going to go to jail."

He shrugs, "I know all that."

"Are you insane??"

She tries to shove him but he holds on his arms and she accidentally pushes back the sleeve of his left arm and she sees it.

Various scars. Various holes where the injections had done their job.

He pulls his arm away from her like he'd been burned.

"You…?" she gasps and he pushes his sleeve back down.

As he picks up his suitcase, she suddenly understands everything.

Together they walk back into the hallway.

End.

A/N: You know I like posing challenges for myself. With this one I said, hmm. Try to create a story that doesn't have them fucking, fighting, and create a mood with minimal words and more actions. So. Love it? Hate it? Have I worn out the welcome mat? Be careful, my ego is very fragile since I don't particularly think I'm up to par with Life for them is Eternal. Eh. But that's just me. Must be the lack of KS-ness in my life these days.

Katie: You're right. I don't have a norm. I'd be so boring if I wrote the same all the time. Speaking of Leyton, they're a couple again! I caught the latest episode! Yippee! I don't think I'd write Leyton fics though, I simply would suck on account of the fact that I know where my strengths lie. Haha and Leyton is not it. But we'll see I guess?

B:Here you go. An honorable mention. I was just sleepy the other day and I figured I had to address the issue as to whether or not I am Wildly Obsessed. Which I'm not in case you missed the memo. ;-P