Warning: This is rated M. It contains adult themes including sex and violence. Please note this includes the possibility of sexual assault. No dramatic situation in this story will be exploited for mere shock value, it will always be justified within the storyline. I encourage anyone who finds any of the above difficult or offensive to not read. No cutting or drug use.

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns any Twilight characters that may appear in this story. Everything else is my original work. Please do not copy, distribute or reproduce without asking. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters 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.

***

EDWARD

My eyes puckered from the sting of recycled heat as it blew thick and stale from the vent. I wanted to flick the slats away but they taunted me with the irony of the situation. A little over four years and my life had come full circle, history eerily repeating itself. I was waiting in the cold, dark rain for another car to die, except this time risking my sleeping five-year-old son.

I had tried to protect him, keep him safe, yet here we sat, tires wedged deep, glutted with mud, miles off the main road. It had been nearly two hours since I got the car stuck and the gas tank was nearing empty. Once more, I was allowing my options to run out before taking action. I had become that man again, the coward I vowed would never return.

I had learned nothing. Absolutely nothing. I was still an Asshole.

I couldn't call for a tow. My cell phone sat where I'd abandoned it, charging on the kitchen counter. Only now had I realized my sheer stupidity of leaving Chicago to drive across the country without a pre-paid phone. I glanced through the distorted drops hitting the windshield to a distant tendril of chimney smoke curling over the tree line. I gauged the distance -- It was probably a mile away.

Fuck.

My fingers balled around the steering wheel and I silently, violently, shook it twice. I swallowed my frustrated gasps, praying not to wake him. Matthew deserved better than the hand he'd been dealt. He deserved better than her and if I were being honest, he deserved better than me. But, he and I were all each other had. I was his rock, his unwavering constant and I'd be damned if I ever let him see me fall apart.

I twisted around to take in his sleeping form. He slept soundly across the leather seats, arms and legs twisted in an odd contortion only a five-year-old could find comfortable. The patter of rain against the windows cast soft shadows of jumbled polka dots over him. His dark auburn locks had matted into unruly tufts from not being washed in a few days. He looked at peace and unmarred by the strain of the past forty-eight hours.

With one phone call, the life I'd painstakingly pieced together and nurtured was brought to its knees. We'd been living encased in a snow globe, an idealistic version of happiness endlessly submerged under the weight of stagnant water. It was as close to perfection as I'd been able to create for him. The call two days ago had single-handedly flipped us upside down – sending the particles of our lives swirling into chaos, huddling in a heavy mass above our heads. We were sitting here now because I couldn't wait for it to right itself and rain down upon us, or worse, for it to shatter.

It was a surreal slap of reality; she had snuck onto school grounds, knuckled her way past Matthew's kindergarten teacher in an attempt stake a predatory claim as his mommy. Fortunately, I'd kept Matthew home that day to recover from a cold, narrowly escaping her grasp and giving us a chance to run.

Under the guise of a vacation, I'd torn him away from the only life he'd ever known. It would be a while before he understood the gravity of what I'd done. He'd most likely hate me but it was the lesser of two evils. I hadn't yet grasped the implications of what had happened but I knew there was no other choice. The gauntlet had once again been thrown and we weren't sticking around for whatever twisted battle was brewing.

I'd made the right decision, the choice I should have made years ago when the opportunity first presented itself, but was too frightened at the time to take. This wasn't a cliché, a 'better late than never' situation. It was fucked up; abhorrently so and stalling out now wouldn't erase the past, right or wrong. My stomach rolled in disgust. We needed to get out of the car. Fuck.

I turned back around, put the car in gear once more to ensure we were indeed stuck. The engine grumbled as I depressed the gas, the tires whirring at a mad pace as they spun out. The car was going nowhere.

I closed my eyes, allowing Matthew's whisper of a snore to ground me before facing the inevitable. He was the beacon spurring me forward. I had to do this for him. I stole one final moment then looked through the windshield once more. The distant chimney smoke was beckoning. One foot in front of the other. First thing first.

With reluctant resolve, I turned off the engine and pocketed the keys. I was going to be forced to take him into the rain. Asshole.

I wanted to wait as long as I could before rousing Matthew. He'd thrown a tantrum earlier from the stress of being in the car for two days. Eventually I would have to break it to him that we were never going back and that this was his home now. He'd never again play with his favorite toys, sleep in his rocket ship bed or play with Mrs. Cope's dog. He'd never understand or forgive not getting to say good-bye to his first and only friend. I was a bastard for the devastation but I'd do it again if I had to. All were acceptable sacrifices because he'd also never meet the woman who wanted to be his mother.

With the exception of the cell phone, I'd been meticulous with my planning. We were packed and out the door within ten minutes of the call. It took me another two hours to close my bank accounts, change the license plate to one I'd picked up at a flea market and disable the car's low-jack and GPS. There was no way to track us. I'd had this all plotted for years because I knew this day would eventually come.

A few years ago, I'd set up new identification under my birth mother's maiden name of Masen. Getting that information would be difficult considering the records were sealed. I hadn't even been privy to it until three years ago. So not to confuse Matthew, he'd keep his first name and I would be Ward Masen, simply dropping 'Ed' from my first name.

The strong patter of rain against silent car pulled me from my thoughts. I pushed all trepidation aside, chancing one more glance at Matthew's sleeping form before reaching over the seat to wake him.

"Matty, bud, it's time to get up. The car's stuck so I'm going to have to carry you for a bit."

A barely audible growl snuck past his innocent pout as he rolled away from my request. I couldn't help but smirk; he'd learned that trick from me. Definitely my son.

We had flimsy fall coats with sweaters underneath but nothing to withstand rainy Washington State. The rain would set a chill quickly and Matthew had just gotten over his cold. His immune system was weaker than it should be so I'd wrap him inside my coat and make a run for it. I had to do this. No other choice.

I reached over the seat, rubbing my hand soothingly over Matthew's back, coaxing him to roll over to face me. His sleep ebbed at my touch and he began to lazily stretch.

A peal of thunder echoed across the night. Matthew's eyes shot open, a purring giggle bubbling from his chest. He loved the rain. The size of drops, the depth of puddles, and the way it twisted in the wind. It all fascinated him.

On rainy days, he'd spend hours in front of the loft windows with his crayons and paints, capturing what he saw. He liked the wet weather more than snow, more than the sun even. Every picture always had rain.

I asked him, "Why don't you draw the sun? You love it don't you? The warm? The happy?"

I swear he would have rolled his eyes, if he knew what it meant. Instead, he motioned me to pull up a knee so we were eye level. He puffed out his chest with a heavy sigh, slapped a hand on my shoulder and then proceeded to school me.

"Daddy, the rain isn't sad. He's happy like the sun. He's sharin' his joy tears 'cause he gets to be the star too. People think he's bad but he's not. He's just bein' friendly. No one draws him 'cause he's different, like me. I'm different and that don't mean I'm bad. See? I draw him 'cause he's loved too."

That was my son, sensitive, full of empathy. He had endless adoration for the underdog, the misfit, the odd, the different and the strange. Welcoming all with open arms.

His compassion knew no bounds, even when it came to toys. Always preferring the 'reduced to sell' and 'slightly damaged' because they were just as worthy as the perfect ones. In his eyes, far superior because it made the toys special. Not broken. Never broken. Special.

One would think that quality alone would make him a great friend to have. On the playground, he'd continually trade expensive new toys for broken ones, letting kids think they'd pulled one over on him. Proud that they'd taken advantage of the boy with the funny leg but Matthew knew what he was doing. I'd watch the wheels turning in his industrious little mind as he puzzled out how to get the worn, no longer appreciated toy away from the child. Truth be told, I actually felt sorry for those kids, they didn't even realize the situation was reversed, Matthew always had the upper hand. The kicker was that he did it because he wanted to save the toy, make it feel wanted; somehow reassure it that it was unconditionally loved regardless of its flaws.

Watching him do this over and over again, broke a piece of me every time because whether he realized it or not, in his own way, he was giving them what he so desperately wanted from his absent mother. He'd never admit it, but I know he thinks she left because he's 'special'. Not broken. Special. He's perfect.

An exasperated gasp pulled my attention back to him.

"Dad, it's rainin'. I don't have my frogs on." He stared down at his jacket and sneakers as if waiting for them to magically transform into his Kermit the Frog rain gear. "Gotta have my frogs to go in the rain, right?"

Of course, he'd pick then to remember the rain rule. "I'm sorry buddy, I forgot to pack them. Tomorrow we'll get you some new ones. I'm going to carry you."

His eyes brightened. "Piggyback?"

"Nope. Got to go sidesaddle, cowboy."

He tucked his bottom lip into his mouth and nodded. "'kay."

I quickly got out of the car, ignoring the wheezing rain. Its sharp repetitive drone was oddly soothing in its cadence, ratta-tat-tatting against me.

I took several deep breaths, refusing to berate my actions. I just needed to stay focused on the bare bones, the basic details of what needed to be done. I wasn't capable of anything more. With any luck, we'd be out of the rain in fifteen minutes, seated next to the tow truck driver in forty and in a motel room in a little over an hour. I'd bathe Matty and tuck him in, then disappear into the bathroom to deal with the consequences of what I'd done, the shit I was barely suppressing.

Just checking things off a list, step after step. I allowed the weather to cleanse me of my ever increasing anxiety. I wasn't certain what we'd find beyond the tree line. Regardless, the smoke was our only chance.

I swung the back door open, unzipping my jacket and holding it open as Matthew wrapped his arms tightly around my neck. I holstered him on my hip, holding my jacket around us, unable to zip it closed. I kicked the car door shut not bothering to lock it or set the alarm. If someone had the patience to dig it out to steal it, they could have it. Besides, with the fake license plate I wouldn't be able to report it.

Matthew rapidly blinked to take in the dark and desolate road surrounding us. I could tell it unsettled him to be in such a scary place with nothing but moonlight to guide us. I had to get his mind off it. "Command your horse, cowboy."

Matthew squealed with delight, relieved I was making this fun. He gave me a tight squeeze and yelped, "Giddy up!"

I gave the best 'whinny' I could muster; clucking my tongue to imitate horse's hoofs and took off running. The entire time, praying to out run the past and ignoring the dread of racing into the unknown.

We were soaked by the time we reached the cabin. I'd given up running a half-mile back, unable to maintain stability in the mud. Matthew's head was tucked under the jacket, our horse game no longer appealing. He was overtired, cold and irritable. I had never hated myself as much as I did then. I'd stranded us in this awful situation and now the only way out sat inside the shadowed structure.

The cabin sat well hidden from prying eyes. If it weren't for the sharp bite of chimney smoke, it would have appeared uninhabited. Heavy shutters clamped shut over the windows, giving no glimpse of internal light or movement. Its wrap-around porch had seen better days, same with the splintered wood siding but even in the dark, it appeared to be well loved. An old porch swing swayed gently in the storm's breeze. Two large foil pinwheels and an incomplete mosaic of various non-descript rocks formed a makeshift walkway leading to the porch steps. The work in progress was a sharp contrast to its forested surroundings.

Once on the porch, I nuzzled Matthew closer, pulling back the coat to kiss the top of his head. His green eyes weary and ready to sleep. We exchanged commiserating half smiles. "We'll be able to get some help here. Just a bit longer and we'll get a motel for the night."

Matthew meekly nodded before burrowing himself further against my chest. He was definitely going to get sick again. Any apprehension I'd felt about approaching the cabin dissipated. Matthew needed me, not my nerves. I'd made so many mistakes, which he was forever paying for. This would not be another one. I tempered my anxiety and knocked on the door.

Startled movement emanated from inside as we waited for the door to be answered. A long moment passed and no one came. I knocked once more, this time louder.

I nervously shifted my weight, hugging Matthew closer as we waited. I scissored my fingers through his tangled hair pulling the moisture away from his face. The simple action grounded me.

After what seemed like an eternity, floorboards creaked directly beyond the door. However, it became obvious whoever was on the other side had no intention of answering.

I bit back my anger and spoke loudly. "My son and I had some car trouble. I don't have a cell phone. Would it be possible to borrow your phone to call for a tow?"

No answer. Another crick of the floorboards reconfirmed that someone was indeed on the other side. I loathed not knowing who. Did they think I couldn't tell they were there? Were they not going to answer? Did they expect us to just go away?

I tried again, this time softening my tone. "Hello? Will you help us?"

More shifting behind the door. What the hell were they doing? Was this some sort of game? My agitation grew. I was done. Nothing mattered except getting Matthew out of this situation. We were getting help and leaving. Fuck it.

"I know you're on the other side of this door. We can hear you. Please, it's just the use of your phone. You don't even have to open the door, make the call for us. Just don't dismiss us when we clearly need assistance."

A shaky female voice finally responded. "The storm knocked out the phone lines and I don't have a car."

Shit. I wasn't prepared. My body constricted, sharp, unyielding as I refused to allow this to break me. I would not, could not, fall apart. Focus. One foot in front of the other. For Matthew.

She sounded scared. She was probably alone and terrified of the stranger on her doorstep. For all she knew I was here to hurt her.

Her voice, a bit stronger now, spoke again. "I don't have a peephole and the shutters are locked. Can your son maybe say something? So I know he's really with you?"

Relief hit me. She would help us but needed to make sure I really did have a child. "Yes, of course." I nudged him, "Matty, say hello to the nice woman behind the door."

Matthew's brow immediately furrowed, turning his face further into my chest. I brushed my fingers over his cheek. "Matthew, buddy, you've got to say hello." His response was swift, pulling my jacket back over his head, refusing to speak. This was not good.

I laughed uncomfortably, "He's a bit shy. Just give us a moment." I knew my son and there was no way he was going to speak if I pushed him. I needed to figure out what was going on.

I bent down, pulling Matthew from my body and set him on his feet. He wouldn't meet my gaze, instead tucked himself around the back of my leg before mumbling, "Dad, she's a girl."

I sighed. Matthew had come home from kindergarten last week declaring all girls under four feet had cooties. I'd tried to get him to explain the height logic but he assured me his best friend, Jonah, said so which meant it was undeniable fact. With great effort, he'd avoided every girl under four feet since. He'd rather freeze to death than suffer an unimaginable death by cooties. At the time, I found this humorous, now not so much.

I rubbed the back of my neck, Matthew had gotten his stubborn streak from me as well. Clearly, there was only one way around this. I steeled every raw nerve, cleared my throat and spoke to the woman again. "I realize this is going to sound odd but can you please tell my son how tall you are?"

Shit. I cringed with realization. It was a serial killer question. She probably thought I was measuring her for a skin suit.

Instead of excruciating silence, we were met by the slightest hint of a stifled laugh. Riding off its quiet wave, "I'm five-foot-four."

There were a series of crisp clanks of what I presumed to be several locks disengaging.

I pulled myself to my full height bringing Matthew with me. We would greet her together. I wanted her to see Matthew and that he did exist and how precious he was.

There was final double click, the door flying open to reveal a twelve-gauge shotgun leveled at my chest.

***

A/N: Huge thanks to my amazing beta, dolphin62598!