Author's Note: Hello Lovelies! I'm SO incredibly sorry that it has taken this stinkin' long for me update. You officially have my permission to hate me. But, I got inspired, and I'm slowly catching up with all of my stories. I think you guys deserve an explanation SO here it is. Home life isn't great right now, it hasn't been for awhile. I'm been so busy, everything has just been hectic. But I'm making time to write. On another note, I know this chapter is short. But I'll have a new chapter up soon.

-Anneryn

I DO NOT OWN LIFE WITH DEREK OR THE CHARACTERS.

Chapter Eight:

I woke up with raw eyes. I don't need to see my reflection to know that they are puffy and bloodshot. I was sobbing in my sleep. Even in sleep, I wasn't granted any peace. My dreams continued to plague me. I feel like I was run over by a tank. I dragged my carcass out of bed. I didn't need to look at my clock to know that it was the middle of the night.

I pulled a pair of shorts on, over my panties and went downstairs. I can live feeling like my head is splitting open, but I can't live with a dry throat. I hope no one is downstairs, or even awake. I just can't deal with anything right now. I tried to will away my headache, but I had no luck. I reached the bottom of the stairs, and found the landing pitch black. I let out a breath of relief. Thank God.

I went into the kitchen and grabbed a clean glass out of the dishwasher and filled it up with water. I brought the full glass up to my forehead; it's throbbing. I blinked away reforming, unshed tears and just stood there, trying my best to ignore the pain. I closed my eyes and just stood there. I'm not sure how much time passed. I started walking, and opened my eyes. I jumped and almost dropped my water…. I was face to face with Derek. I tried to move around him, but he just blocked my efforts.

"Just move." I told him. He didn't say or do anything. He stayed perfectly still. I sighed. "I'm not in the fucking mood, Derek. Just move." I growled, my voice hoarse. He looked determined, but finally moved.

"Why won't you fucking talk to me?" He asked. I looked at him, and turned to face him.

"Goes both ways, and I told you. I'm just done. I don't want to talk to you. And if you have something to say, find someone else to listen." I told him. I shook my head and walked towards the stairs. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop.

"What's going on with you?" He asked me, quietly.

"Nothing," I told him.

"Bullshit," he retorted. I shrugged.

"Believe what you want. I'm not going to stop you." I told him.

"I can't fix this, if I don't know the problem." Derek pressed. I growled in irritation.

"What makes you think that this is something you can 'fix?' I don't need you to fix me, or my problems. I said nothing was wrong. Accept that, or don't. Let me go." I told him, yanking my arm out of his grip. He started to walk after me, but I walked faster. I would have run, if I hadn't gotten my water. I reached my room, and locked the door behind me. I flinched as my phone went off. I answered it, absentmindedly.

"Z, don't do this. Don't shut me out, please. I'm worried about you." Derek pleaded. I let out a bark of harsh laughter.

"I'm not your problem. Why don't you save yourself some worry, and think about something else." I told him, hanging up on him. I sighed, and hit my wall. Luckily, I didn't hit it hard enough to leave a mark, or break through. I took a deep breath and decided to dial another number. I listened to it ring.

"Hello," I heard a groggy voice answer. I sighed in relief.

"Hey, I know it's late. But…" I started to say. I was losing my nerve.

"It's fine, don't worry about it. Talk to me." The voice answered, more awake now.

"I just… It's been a shitty night. And, I really don't want to talk about it, or even think about it, really. But, I really don't want to be alone right now. I don't want to be alone with my thoughts." I said, my voice breaking.

"Hey, hey, it's alright. I'll be over soon. Just give me a minute." He promised.

"I'm sorry, and thank you." I told him.

"Don't apologize. You can call me anytime." He told me.

"Okay," I whispered.

"I'll be there in a minute, Elle." Clay promised. I hung up the phone and threw it at the wall. I sank to the floor and let my face fall into my hands. I sobbed, not caring what I looked like, or what anyone thought of me. I'm so tired of being alone all of the time. I can't deal with everything by myself. I just need to know… to feel like someone is here for me.

It's suffocating. I feel like I can't breathe. Everything that's going on in my head is confusing. I'm drowning in my thoughts, and I can't pull myself out. What is sanity, but a thought that one's self belongs to normalcy. Buzzing from across my room brought my hurdling back to reality. I crawled over to my phone and flipped it open.

"Hello," I whispered, my voice scratchy.

"I'm here, Sweetie. Let me in." Clay told me.

"Be right there." I told him. I mopped at my face with my fingers, and set my phone on my dresser. I stood up, and walked over to my bedroom door. I unlocked it, and made my way downstairs, slowly. Derek crept out of his room, and he walked over to me, to try and talk with me. "No," I told him. I kept walking. "Go to bed, Derek." I whispered. I know that he wouldn't listen to me. But I really don't want to deal with him starting anything with Clay, either.

I walked downstairs and unlocked the front door, as quietly as I could. I saw Clay standing in front of the door, in a pair of jeans, and a sleeveless tee shirt. It looks like he just pulled something on, become coming over here. He face changed as soon as he saw me. I sighed and looked away from him. This is exactly why I don't let people see me when I'm like this. I hate the looks… the looks of concern… pity. I moved so he could come inside. I shut the door behind him, and locked the door. He pulled me into his arms and held me against his chest. I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt in both of my hands, trying to bring him closer to me. My body shook and held back my tears. He kissed the top of my head. I pushed him away. He looked puzzled.

"Not here." I told him. He nodded. I let him lead the way to my room. I walked even slower than before, suddenly tired. Exhaustion must be taking its toll. He must have noticed, because he turned and picked me up. He carried me the rest of the way. Derek didn't say anything to him. They just exchanged silent looks. Clay took me to my room and shut the door behind us. I laid me down on my bed and lay down next to me. He stayed on his side, so he could put his arm around me, and I could face him while I talked. "I shouldn't have called. I'm sorry." I told him. He brushed some hair out of my face.

"I'm glad you called. You don't need to be sorry. Talk to me." He told me. I nodded.

"I just… I'm a mess." I told him, lamely. He sighed.

"A hot mess," he retorted. I glared at him.

"I don't know what's going on with me. I don't want to talk about it…. I just want it to stop." I told him. I felt the tears working their way back up, again.

"We don't have to talk, not if you don't want to." He told me, bringing his lips to my forehead. I nodded.

"Can you just…" I started. He looked at me. "Hold me, for tonight?" I asked him.

"Of course," he said. He moved over to his back and moved to my stomach. I leaned into him, and used his chest as a pillow. He wrapped his arms around me, and just held me. "Let it out. You don't have to be strong for me." He whispered, and that's all it took. Everything that I had been holding back, and holding inside, came pouring out. I couldn't stop the tears. They felt hot against my skin. They kept coming, and he just held me, and gave me something to cling to and cry on. I felt my body shake, and I felt him shower me with light kisses.

Derek's POV

I sat in the hallway, next to my room, and listened to Lizzie cry. The sound tears me up inside. I hate that I'm not the one that gets to comfort her, or the one that she turns to. I don't want to be the cause of her pain. I don't know how I became this twisted. Everything just got so fucked up, so fast. Why does she have to be my stepsister? If she wasn't, it would make everything so much easier. I keep thinking that if I can convince myself that I don't care about her, then I won't. But all that has done is hurt Z and me.

I can't keep doing this, but I don't know what else to do.

For now, I'm doing to do the only thing that I can do. I'm going to let her be with Clay. I need to get myself in check, before I do anything drastic. I wish I be more… better… There is no way in hell that she is going to end up with him. It's just a matter of time before she realizes what she already knows… She's mine.

Author's Note: There you have it. I hope it didn't disappoint too much. Please review.

Much love,
Xo Xo
Anneryn