A/N: Don't hurt me?

Part of me just couldn't get into this chapter (except for the first part). Sigh. And then, like the day after or so I put up the preview, I got into a car accident X/. It was by no means a horror story, but it wasn't exactly fun, either.

So the first part of this (the italics) is something I've yet to do in this story but that I think is really interesting. Cause we know zip about Ian's past. Zip. Nada. O.o

Thin, needle-like strips of rain struck the hard stone and pierced the soft earth. Ian blinked away the beads that clung to his lashes, and his lips trembled as he tried to form the words that were heavy in his mind. Stuffing his frozen fingers into his jean pockets, he shook his head and dislodged many of the rain drops that made his hair glisten when passing car lights spotted him.

"Mom."

He swallowed, hands clenching into fists against the jean material.

Why'd you have to go? Ian missed his mom more than anything, and today had been particularly rough.

The gravestone was dark gray soaking in the precipitation, and no sunlight peeked through the misty clouds overhead. Peeking from under his lashes, he read her name in his mind:

Janean Marie O'Shea.

Loving Mother, Wife, and Sister

"I know you told me everyone has their place," Ian said, the words pouring from his mouth like water, "and maybe mine is elsewhere. But, sometimes, I can't help but hear what they say to me over and over again. Ever since I screwed up the big game, they won't leave me alone about it. I'm considered the weak link on the team even by the coaches, and I found out today I didn't make the traveling team." That had hit hard not making that team. It had become such a big part of their year ever since Kyle and Ian had started playing soccer in the rec leagues. And, while Kyle had made it, Ian was humiliated he hadn't made the cut for the first time since being a kid.

"And then I failed my psychology test - I never do that - and the guys are starting to say I'm loosing my brain, too. As if I need another reason for them to pick on me." Ian huffed, and his hands relaxed in his pockets. He missed his mom, missed the late night talks they'd have, missed all the Saturdays spent on the soccer fields and picnic hills, missed hearing her wisdom that never ceased to amaze him. No other woman existed, he was sure, that was as compassionate and as accepting as Janean O'Shea, and, everyday since her passing, Ian wanted to emulate such traits, if only to make it feel as if she was still there with him.

Ian took one last, long look at the gravestone, heart squeezing in his chest. It used to be cancer was something he only heard about. It happened to other families. Not his. But cancer didn't discriminate, and it held back no power. The carnage it left in its wake left Ian feeling he was only half himself.

He sighed. It was time to go again.

As he forced his toes to turn him away from his mother's final resting place, something hit his ankle. Ian paused and looked down. The black and white hexagons of a soccer ball gleamed in the light of a passing car.

"Hey, Ian."

The tired boy glanced over where the voice hailed and felt his lips pull in. His brother and Dad stood a little ways ahead with small smiles on their faces under the soft sunlight that was beginning to break through the clouds. The rain was letting up, now only a slight drizzle that felt like mist.

Kyle said, "Hey, Ian, you wanna go play a game?"

The corner of his mouth twitched up, and, as he picked up the ball and headed toward his family, he couldn't help but remember his mom always telling him about silver linings. Maybe this was her way of showing him that he wasn't alone and never would be.

Thanks, Mom.

"Look who it is." Kyle let out a low whistle as he appraised the filth on my hide.

I scowl. "Can it, Kyle."

He'd yet to take a bath, as evidence of the warm stench he emitted. I swung out of his reach when he meant to ruffle my hair. Rather than chase me, however, he clenched the shaft of his shovel with both hands and continued digging.

The yellow Arizona sun beat down us in the canyon-like crevice we'd crawled into. Why Jeb tricked me into helping my brother, I'll never know. But here we were, digging shallow graves for dead bodies. When I asked Kyle why he hadn't washed yet, he said there hadn't been a point if he was just going to get dirty again. He'd bathe after we finished this chore. I glanced over at him only once or twice, unsure of how I felt about him.

"What's the deal, anyhow?" Kyle said out of the blue.

"With what?"

"You and the parasite," he clarified. "I thought you were on our side, little bro." He paused mid-stroke and wiped a pool of sweat from his brow.

I shrugged. "Changed my mind."

"It's a parasite."

"It's a living being."

"Living inside a body that it stole."

I bit my cheek to quell the urge to shout at him. Instead, I poured my anger into my shoveling.

Last night, at Jeb's insistence, I worked up late with Doc, playing his assistant as he mapped out and decided his course of action. I couldn't stop seeing Wanda on the gurney, prey to Doc's flashy scalpel. What made her so different if we went ahead and murdered her kin but kept her alive?

"Hey, Ian, did ya hear me?"

I shook my head. The sunlight was attracted to my black hair, leaving it scalding hot.

"I asked which is more important: me or the parasite?"

We stopped shoveling. I felt Kyle's laser gaze burn into the side of my head, no doubt grounding down on his teeth.

I was careful in my response, rolling possible words on my tongue. "I think this is one of those times where we'll have to agree to disagree. I don't see it as an ultimatum, Kyle. She's a living being, and, all I know is, I feel like crap putting her in pain."

Whatever I'd said, it was enough to take a notch out of Kyle's fury. He took up the shovel and started digging again, and I knew he was tossing and turning everything in his head. "Then what about all of this?" He motioned with one hand to one of the bodies.

"You shouldn't have brought more back."

Kyle growled. "So now you don't care if we ever figure this out?" When I didn't respond - didn't care to meet his gaze - he barked, "What, then? Don't tell me you're in love with the parasite, Ian. That'd be just rich."

My response wasn't harsh enough to make him think it true. I shook my head, wrinkling my nose. "That's ridiculous, Kyle. You and I both know I was just born with an extra strong conscious." A conscious that told me that, while hearing Wanda and being around her made my heart patter more than it ought to, it was a reaction better left for dead.

We left words to silence as we finished the graves and buried the bodies into the clay earth.

Sometimes, Wanda, I don't want you to do things just because of me. I want you to be you.

I make sure to avoid any contact with people as I dig through my brain and try to calm my restless spirit. It was rare I ever felt any anger towards Wanda, but all the talk about my story has me on edge. It seems there are still things I have yet to forget, and though I dislike the uncomfortable weight in my chest, I know it is good that I do this, talk to Wanda. Then, just like that, I feel a smile split my face. Without even realizing it, Wanda is helping soothe my heart. She is a miracle.

I walked for ten minutes before I felt the frustration drain away. Now I stand before our makeshift door, hoping that she isn't offended or bothered. Though I did not say the things on my mind when I left her alone, Wanda had a way of soaking in negativity in a room. So I swallow the pain and pride and enter our room, putting aside the door and taking my time replacing it. My heart is high in my chest as I turn to our mattress. Beautiful, sad Wanda is sitting up, legs curled to her chest and wrapped in the sheets. She stares at her fingernails with a soft frown, and the waterline that rims her stunning eyes are red.

"Wanda, I'm sorry."

She looks up and shrugs. "It's alright. I'm the one that was rude, so it's okay I feel regret."

I take up the inside of my lip between my teeth and feel my brows pull inward. With a quiet, short sigh, I go and sit beside her, mimicking her closed position. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's not your fault."

"What did I do wrong? I don't want to make that mistake again."

I reach out and brush my fingers along her cheekbone, lips twitching it a slight smile as my flesh tingles and warms. "Nothing. It was me."

"Don't sugarcoat it, please," says Wanda as her eyelids flutter like butterfly wings. "I want to do better. What is wrong?"

To tell her I am frustrated with her lack of human selfishness is a conversation wrought with endless circles and dead ends. I can't change Wanda, and it would probably take a few more years under the care and influence of so many humans for her to really start understanding them. But, at the same time, I cannot lie to her. I cannot hope for her honesty and trust and heart if I will not give her those things in return. I retrieve my hand and sit back, saying, "It's a little strange."

"It is a strange world."

The edge of my mouth quirks up. "The strangest." I swallow the knot in my throat. "It's alright if we both want different things sometimes."

Wanda cocked her head to the side. "Different things?"

"I guess I mean to say that I wanted you to disagree with me - before I left - I wanted you to tell me that you wanted to hear about what happened that day after Jared and Kyle came back so that I would talk about it." It seems a little silly now that I am calmed down - me wanting Wanda to pressure me into talking about such a touchy day.

My dearest seems to think the same. "Why would you want that? All of that was hard for me, but for you…." She rolls her shoulders, unsure how to finished that sentence.

"Because of the second time," I say. "It was hard to watch you go through all of that." I swallow. "And because things weren't very good between Kyle and I at the time."

Wanda leans against my arm, her soft hair brushing my skin. Her small hand finds it way to mine, and her fingers tickle the flesh there. "I never knew," she exhales and starts again, "I mean, I wasn't around you at the time. I never understood how you and Kyle could get so mad at each other over me."

Kissing her curls, I murmur, "Kyle seemed to get it before me or anyone else that I liked you more than a friend….

A/N: Probably not my best chapter ever. I'm-a going to try and release a chapter a week now since that should give me enough time to work around work and some of the other projects I have going on.