Sooo lucky for you all I managed to pick a hotel with free WiFi...yay update! I've spent a frustrating day finding a place to live so I thought I'd post and hope for some awesome reviews to cheer me up! ;)

Chapter 14 – Beg and Steal

Please come now/ I think I'm falling/ I'm holding on to all I think is safe/ It seems I found the road to nowhere/ And I'm trying to escape/ I yelled back when I heard thunder/ But I'm down to one last breath /And with it let me say, let me say /

They almost looked like a normal family. Heather and Robbie were in the kitchen, cooking dinner. Jackson was on the sofa watching TV. Miley was sitting at the kitchen table looking bored. Lilly got up to go to the bathroom. The two parents were joking with each other, their laughter drowning out the sound of whatever was on TV.

Miley had at least gotten used to the three people in the house enough to be able to tolerate them around her. No one but Lilly got too close to her, but she could at least enjoy sitting across a table from her dad talking to him. She just hoped she'd be able to shake the last vestiges of fear and let someone other than Lilly touch her.

"Jackson, go get your lazy butt off that sofa and come set the table," Robbie yelled from the kitchen and Jackson glared at him.

"Why can't Miley do it, she's not doing anything."

Robbie stood next to the counter, throwing an exasperated look at his son, "Your sister is supposed to take it easy. Now come on, get."

Jackson rolled his eyes and turned off the TV. He walked up to his dad and stopped, a pensive look on his face, "You know, dad, technically I don't even live here anymore. You can't make me do anything."

"I swear boy," Robbie grabbed a bamboo serving spoon from the counter and brandished it at his son in a mock threat. Jackson cowered in mock fear and Robbie smacked his arm with the spoon.

"Sheesh, dad, I'm going," Jackson said, rubbing his arm in exaggeration.

"Should've done that a long time ago, then," Robbie said, smacking Jackson's other arm for good measure.

Jackson turned and grabbed the spoon from his dad, whacking him on his forearm moving on to any body part he could get to while Robbie tried to fend him off. They were fighting over and with the spoon like little kids and Heather laughed watching them.

Miley flinched every time the spoon made contact. She could not say why. Her mind was already elsewhere, a haze surrounding her. She could not hear their voices, but each snap of the wood impacting skin was amplified to ring through her head. She trembled and clenched her fists. Another smack. Bile rose in her throat. Another smack. She closed her eyes.

Lilly came back down the stairs and into the kitchen. Robbie and Jackson stumbled past her, fighting over a spoon. Her eyes sought out Miley, as they always did. Miley was shaking in her chair, eyes closed and Lilly's heart dropped. What had happened? No one even noticed. They were still fighting over that damned spoon. Someone hit someone else with the spoon and the sound of wood on skin made Lilly flinch. She pushed down her own panic trying to resurface; what the hell were they doing?

"Give me that spoon!" she yelled over their laughing voices and both men stopped abruptly, clearly having heard the tone in her voice. Part panic, part desperation, part anger. They both turned to stare at her. She was pale. "The spoon, now!"

Jackson wasn't sure what was wrong with her, but he knew not to argue with that look on her face. He held out the spoon to her and she practically ripped it from his grasp. He hadn't seen Lilly this angry, probably ever. "We were just messing around, nothing serious."

She ignored him and walked past him to the dining table, where Miley still sat. The rest of them noticed her shaking, the paleness of her face, for the first time. Robbie wanted to rush over, afraid she was having a relapse of some sort, but he refrained. Lilly had beaten him to it at any rate.

Lilly set down the spoon on the table in front of the brunette. She crouched down next to the chair and put her hand on Miley's leg. The brunette opened her eyes at the touch, but they were unseeing, staring blankly ahead. Lilly sighed.

"Come on, Miles, don't do this. It's a spoon, okay, that's all it is. No one's going to hurt you and no one is going to hurt me. It's over and we're safe," Lilly said softly.

No reaction. Lilly stood with a sigh. She could feel everyone's eyes on her back, questioning, wondering what was going on but she ignored them. She really only cared about Miley at that moment. Lilly brushed a hand across the top of Miley's head and stepped as close to her as possible. She pulled Miley against her body, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Miley pressed her cheek against Lilly's stomach and wrapped both arms around the blonde's middle.

Lilly felt relieved. She'd feared Miley had really gone inside of herself again, taking hours to come back to her. Voluntary movement was a start at any rate. She rubbed her hand across her friend's back, fingers brushing against the scars she knew lay beneath the fabric of Miley's shirt. They both had scars, too numerous to count probably and she knew it would take them a long time to get over it. Perhaps they never truly would.

Jackson felt ashamed. He didn't know exactly what he had done or how, but he knew whatever he and his dad had been doing had made Miley freak out. He didn't like seeing her so vulnerable, like she might break at any moment. He looked at his dad. Robbie looked utterly devastated. No matter how hard he tried nothing was ever right. Heather came up next to him and squeezed his hand. They all felt so awkward.

Lilly turned her head from her current position and looked at them. Part of her felt a little bad they were so out of the loop, that Robbie was unable to help his own daughter, that they couldn't know if a simple thing they did would set one of them off. "Guys, if you don't mind, can we get started on dinner? I'm starving."

They stared at her, incomprehensible. Here they were stuck in this uncomfortable scene, watching Lilly comfort an obviously distraught Miley and Lilly asked for food. Nevertheless, they all moved, almost as if in slow motion and as quietly as possible, to set the table and get the food ready.

Lilly did not change positions, even when they moved around her to set the table. She thought she'd felt Miley smile slightly at her statement; the brunette had always made fun of her ravenous appetite. Robbie Ray set a plate in front of Miley, almost hesitantly. Lilly could tell he was trying to stay out of her personal space, though when he walked past them he looked down at his daughter, a sad, longing look on his face, and raised a hand as if to touch her. He let it fall again.

Lilly met his eyes and nodded towards Miley, "Go ahead, it's fine."

If he thought it weird to be given permission to touch his own daughter as if she were a wild animal, he didn't show it. Robbie looked into Lilly's eyes and saw understanding. He raised his hand again slowly and almost hesitantly touched Miley's head. He stroked his hand across her hair down to her back slowly and rubbed his hand up and down her spine. She did not move to acknowledge him, but neither did she shy away and to Robbie that was all he could ask for. She hadn't let him touch her since she'd been awake, other than the one time she'd taken his hand.

"I'm sorry, I just…" Miley mumbled when her dad walked away again.

"I know, Miles. It's alright. Now come on, let's eat."

"Lilly," Miley shook her head against the blonde's torso. Lilly pulled away and looked down at her friend.

"Nu huh, you're going to eat something. Now stay here and I'll get you something to drink."

Miley knew better than to argue with Lilly. There really was no point, Lilly always won anyway. And somehow Lilly always knew what was good for her, so Miley had just learned to trust and listen to her. Even if she wanted nothing more than to get up and hide in her room. Everyone was going to think she was crazy, well crazier, now. Part of her brain had a different idea on how she should act, hence the constant flinching and irrational fear and the inability to just let her dad hug her when she knew he wanted to so badly. That part of her had protected her for five years, but it had become a burden now. She hoped eventually it would go away.

Lilly went to the fridge and poured Miley a glass of juice. Both her mom and Robbie were standing right there, watching her. She knew they wanted to ask something, but probably didn't know how. She finally looked at them. "What?"

"Lilly, we just…we want to know…what happened? Why did Miley get so freaked out?" Heather asked softly, not wanting to anger her short-tempered daughter.

Glancing at Miley, Lilly heaved a sigh and looked back at the parents. She did not want to tell them everything, or anything really, but she knew it was important. She also knew they did not want to hear the whole truth, even if they weren't aware of that fact. "Look, I'd rather not talk about this…well, ever, but the Disciples, they were very big on discipline. If one didn't follow the rules, there was punishment. Often that meant the cane…I…well…the spoon just…it sounded almost like someone getting hit with the cane."

Heather and Robbie looked at each other, not sure what to say. How could they ever really understand what had happened to their children, what kind of emotional scars they carried around with them? They just didn't know enough about what the girls had gone through and they were both sure they wouldn't be able to stand hearing all of it. The guilt was plainly visible on their faces and Lilly sighed.

"Look, it's okay, I'm fine, Miley's fine. Please don't make a big deal out of this. Can we just eat?" She didn't wait for them and walked back to the table, setting the glass of juice in front of Miley. Lilly sat in the chair next to her friend, looking expectantly at the parents.

They ate dinner not in silence, but in awkward conversation. Jackson, clearly trying to lighten the mood, was telling stories of his antics, while Robbie and Heather made comments every now and again. The only silent ones were Miley and Lilly, the former quiet and subdued, poking at her food, and the latter eating with such vigor talking was near impossible. Miley looked at her friend and sighed. Maybe they were back home now, but things hadn't changed all that much.

* * *

Heather carefully spread a blanket over the sleeping girls, standing above them for just a few moments watching them. Lilly was lying on her back on the sofa, the injured arm to the outside. Miley was wedged between the back of the sofa and Lilly, head on the blonde's shoulder, right hand resting on her chest. Their legs were intertwined and they looked more peaceful than Heather remembered seeing them since their return. There was no fear on their faces now, no mistrust, no anger and no pain.

Seeing them so calm and at peace soothed some of Heather's frazzled nerves. She'd never expected to have her daughter returned to her. And those few times she'd allowed herself to imagine it, it had never been like this. A daughter that seemed to no longer need her, moody and distant, easy to anger, headstrong and determined and utterly devoted to the person she loved. Heather couldn't say what about that last part made her the most uncomfortable.

Lilly and Miley were so close, too close, in her opinion. She understood they'd been through a lot, probably needing each other for comfort and survival; but out of that situation such a relationship was unhealthy. If Miley relied on Lilly to keep her safe and Lilly focused solely on protecting Miley, they'd never be able to function normally in society again. But if they were pushed, they'd probably never readjust at all.

She sat in the chair with a heavy sigh, eyes still on the sleeping girls. She heard Robbie in the kitchen, bustling about as he talked on the phone. He was coming closer and his voice had taken on a slightly exasperated tone.

"Yes Ma, I understand…I am not trying to keep you from your granddaughter…Alright, as soon as she wakes up…Sure…I love you, too, Ma."

He hung up with a shake of his head and sat next to her on the chair. His eyes, too, fell on the sleeping girls. She knew he was having a hard time with things. His beloved daughter, with whom he'd been so close before the kidnapping, was a shell of her former self. Hopefully the real Miley was in there somewhere; they just had to find a way to get her out.

"What'd Ruthie want?" Heather asked, rubbing a hand across her husband's back.

He sighed heavily. "She wants to come out and see Miley. I can't blame her, to be honest. It's just not the best time…what with Miley being so out of it. I don't think she could handle another person in the house, it's hard enough with just you, me and Jackson. And Lilly, she's not exactly happy to be around people, either. I promised her she'd be the first to come out here once the girls were doing better."

She nodded slowly, knowing he was right. They had to help their daughters heal.

"I still think we need to contact that psychologist the FBI referred us to. Whatever they're doing, it works for them, but it is not helping. This co-dependency is not good for them."

Robbie suppressed a sigh. Looking at his daughter, the relaxed look on her face, he wondered whether he really wanted to get rid of whatever, or whoever, was allowing it. He just wanted his little girl back.

* * *

The weather was nice, as it normally was in Malibu. She took a deep breath, the smell of the ocean filling her lungs. It was technically still winter and though the weather was cold for southern California, having lived in Montana for five years had certainly toughened her up a bit. The air was cool on her skin, but it felt nice.

Miley stood out on the deck, enjoying the silence. She'd lived around hundreds of obnoxious people for years, but somehow this was different. This was exhausting in a way, trying so hard to be what they wanted her to be. Her dad, Heather, even Jackson, were walking on eggshells around Lilly and her and it was frustrating. Though in the past few days it seemed Heather and her father were trying to get them to spend more time apart, even if in the beginning it was just for a few minutes here and there.

They really did not understand them. She'd spent hours every day apart from Lilly in the compound; as long as they knew they'd see each other at the end of the day they could get through it. Needless to say, Lilly had not slept one night in her own bed so far.

Miley sighed and turned to go back inside. Hopefully Lilly would be back soon from whatever excursion her mother had taken her on. Suddenly, two men were in her path, blocking her access to the door. They held cameras in their hands and flashes went off in her face, stunning her.

"Hannah! Miley! Which do you prefer? Can you tell us about the kidnapping? Is it true that you were part of some underage sex cult? Could you give the camera a sad look?"

She froze. Her dad had mentioned the fact the Hannah secret had been spilled, but up until now she'd felt no impact. Of course, up until now, she'd only been outside in Montana under heavy FBI supervision. How had these paparazzi even found out where she lived? What was she supposed to do now? She was no longer Hannah, smiling and bubbly and extroverted. Now she was just Miley, scared beyond belief and ready to lash out.

"Get out of my way." She thought considering the circumstances her voice sounded fairly stern. They did not move. Her skin crawled just looking at them; they were getting too close. Perhaps their voices had alerted others and soon there were several men, all with cameras, surrounding her on all sides.

"You can't deny your fans! They've waited five years for this," another guy laughed, snapping more pictures of her. They moved closer, around to her sides, the constant whirring of the cameras and the blinding flash making her head spin. She turned in a circle, trying to find an escape route, but she was practically surrounded. They were laughing, their taunting words ringing in her ears. One of them stepped right up to her, shoving his camera in her face.

Miley lashed out. She'd never been a very violent person in her youth, but over the past five years she had at the very least learned how to throw a decent punch. Her fist collided with the man's nose with enough force to elicit a crunching sound, her arm strafing the camera as she moved. Blood spurted from the man's nose and the camera clattered to the ground, shattering, as her arm knocked it from his hands. He howled. The other men continued taking pictures, wild hyenas circling around their dying prey. They still laughed, though perhaps cautioned by their colleague's fate, they did not get too close.

"Hannah meltdown!"

"You can bet that shot's gonna make the front page."

"You're gonna pay for that, you bitch!"

She heard the patio door bang open, but couldn't see anything from her position amidst the mass of paparazzi. A voice cut across the cacophony of camera shutters and flashes. "Miles, get down!"

She didn't know why she listened to the voice; she wasn't fully clear on what was going on at that point, but she dropped to her knees regardless. The paparazzi looked confused for a split-second, before a cloud of white foam descended upon them. Miley covered her face with her hands, droplets of white showering down around her. The clicking of the cameras stopped, instead all she heard was yelling and the thundering of feet on the deck.

"This is assault, I'm gonna have you arrested!"

"Yeah, well, just get the hell away from my sister!"

Miley opened her eyes and noticed most of the men retreating, faces and torsos covered in white. The deck around her was slippery with white foam and she looked up at Jackson's face. He was standing just a few feet from her, beckoning her over with one hand, holding a fire extinguisher in the other.

"Come on, Miles, they'll probably be back," Jackson said, urgency in his tone. A few paparazzi remained, only temporarily stunned into not taking pictures.

Miley stood and ran over to her brother, taking his hand as he pulled her inside. He shut and locked the door behind them, drowning out the sound of more camera shutters. Jackson stared at his sister, trying to see if he'd gotten her with the foam, too, when he noticed she'd taken his hand. He glanced down and Miley followed his gaze, letting go of his hand. She looked at him and smiled.

"Thanks, Jackson."

He couldn't describe the feeling in his chest, the realization that somewhere under all the pain and fear was the old Miley. "You…You're welcome, Miles. Think dad's gonna be mad I used up the fire extinguisher?"

"We'll just tell him you were putting out a fire," she said and they both grinned at each other.

Jackson looked at her as she stopped on the bottom step into the living room.

"Those pictures really are going to be all over the news tomorrow, aren't they?"

He shrugged, not liking how the smile had fallen from her face again. He'd liked seeing it. "Yeah, probably."

"I'd forgotten how big of a deal this whole thing really was. Great, first pics of Hannah after five years and it involves punching a paparazzo."

Jackson turned and looked at her, "Yeah, but Miles, you broke that guy's nose, that's gotta count for something. At the very least everyone will know you're not to be messed with."

Miley walked to the sofa and dropped into the cushions with a heavy sigh, "Yeah, that's gotta count for something, alright."

* * *

Adrian shut off the computer, exasperated. He'd had little luck finding out more about Miley Stewart since coming to Los Angeles. Five years ago they had spent months doing research on Hannah Montana, memorizing her schedule and staking out the places she regularly went. Adrian wasn't sure if her father still lived in the same house. He knew he needed to do this right. As much as he wanted to rush out there and get the job done, he couldn't afford to screw this up. Adrian sighed and got up. It would be risky, but he needed to contact his inside man at the FBI. Ever since he'd warned Adrian of the storm on Breakers East, they had been practically incommunicado. But Adrian knew it was in his accomplice's best interest to help him out. If Adrian got caught, he would certainly tell all. He was no hero.

Hold me now/ I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinkin'/ Maybe six feet/ Ain't so far down/ Sad eyes follow me/ But I still believe there's something left for me/ So please come stay with me/ 'Cause I still believe there's something left for you and me/ -Creed