Joe's POV

Stella and I sat downstairs, watching TV and hoping Macy or Bea would show up. Eventually we heard a car door shut and Macy walked in.

"Hey," Stella said sitting up from her position under my arm and against my chest, "What took you so long."

"What do you mean?" she asked, "I um… I had to talk to my mom." I stood up, noticing she was nervous. There was no Bea. Something happened… something bad.

"Macy?" I asked, "Where's Bea?"

"Bea?" she shrugged, "Bea who?"

"Okay, what happened?" Stella ask, "Did someone come and take Bea or something?" Macy didn't answer and I quickly went for the door. She stood in front of me.

"No," she said, "Um… she went with… Kevin!"

"Kevin?" I asked, "Bea went with Kevin?"

"Yeah," she said, "He showed up and… asked her out."

"It's almost two in the morning," Stella said.

"Well that's just… Kevin for ya," she laughed.

"Macy," I said, "There's something going on… what really happened?"

"Nothing," she groaned, "Just… don't worry about it. Not until the morning okay?"

"Why won't you just tell us?" Stella asked. She looked at me.

"Because you'll react badly," she replied, "You'll rush over to Bea's and freak out like an idiot."

"I won't," I said. Stella already went past Macy and locked the door. She put her hand on Macy's shoulders.

"What happened Macy?" she asked.

"Joe," Macy said to me, "You're brother's back."

"Yeah," I said, "I know. He's been sulking around at home for the last week."

"No," she said, "N-not that brother."

Bea's POV

That girl said he would show up… but I didn't listen. He did call me. It wasn't a dream. I still had some hope that I would wake up any minute now. I remembered when I said I would never hurt him. I keep my promises… always. As he was in the shower, after I made his bed, I walked downstairs and started doing dishes. That's something I would do lately when I felt stressed. I didn't realize how tired I was before. But it faded after my recent attack and after Nick returned… after three months.

I should be pissed. I should be beyond angry and resistant of him. I should send him out on the street. But I couldn't. I think eventually, we'll have to talk about this… how much he hurt me. But right now, I just want to sleep. I just wanted to fall back into my living dead phase. I was happier then than I was now.

I felt tears in my eyes; who was he with? He must've been happy there considering how long he was gone. So what made him come back? It wasn't me… it wasn't his brothers. It wasn't some realization that this is where he belonged. This was something that happened on the other side; something happened where he was that made him leave.

I'm not selfish. I'm really not. I try my best not to be. But it broke me… it ripped me into pieces when I realized it wasn't me that brought him back. No, it was anything but me.

I slowly walked back upstairs, looking back in my room. I could still hear the water running in the shower so I was okay for another few minutes. I looked around my room, my eyes finally meeting that beat up backpack. Maybe…

I sat down on my bed with it in my lap. I slowly opened it and pulled out everything inside; a note book, the one used to write me all of the letters I refused to read, a phone, a roll of cash that he didn't leave with…

And my mother's picture.

I quickly put everything back in the backpack when I heard the water stop. I placed it back by the window and ran downstairs as silently as I could. I stuck my hands back in the sink and just cried… I bawled… silently and painfully.

Nick's POV

I knew this would have to be settled… now. I didn't care about anything anymore but her. Things could go back to normal over time. I had her back in my life a little bit at least. She understood one thing; that I didn't leave because of her. But she didn't understand anything and quite frankly… neither did I; not anymore.

I folded the towel, neatly and put it on the foot of her bed. I looked around, taking in every sight. I walked over to her nightstand and saw the dusty sketchbook. She hasn't' touched it in a while. There were no books in sight like there were before. It was clean… too clean.

Then I saw the backpack. It was open a little bit, not the way I left it. I sighed, and walked out of the room… or ran rather.

She was at the sink, doing dishes. The light was on. She was crying. She brought her hand on of the sink and wiped her face, thinking I wasn't there. She let out a deep breath and continued. I walked forward, wanting to touch her, wanting to console her and just tell her how much I loved her and how stupid I was.

"Bea?" I asked.

"Yeah?" she sniffled. She had her back muscles tense. I grabbed a kitchen towel from next to her and took her hands out of the sink. I placed them in the towel, drying them off patiently. She waited, not looking at me. When they were dry, I tossed the towel to the side. I nearly flicked away the tear on her cheek with my thumb, "If you're going to say you're sorry, I really don't want to hear it."

"Good, because I'm not," I said, "I know what happens from here." She started turning around but then came back and slammed her fist against the wall. She winced in pain but when I went for her she tensed back.

"You're staying with me," she said, "You can't go back to Florence because you're a legal adult and you don't have the correct finance to find your own place. For now, you stay with me."

"Bea-"

"Where did you go?"

"What?"

"I said where did you go," she snapped.

"New York," I sighed. She rolled her eyes and went for the stairs. I followed her, "It wasn't where I was planning to-"

"It doesn't matter," she said, shaking her head. I stopped her, taking her arm and spinning her around to face me. I knew it was a terrible idea and that I shouldn't have done it to begin with. I just examined the hand she used to punch the wall. There was no damage but her hands were clenched into tights fists. For once, I was scared. This feeling… it was almost unrecognizable. Feeling it towards Bea didn't make anything easier. She pulled her hands back, not roughly. She was almost hesitant. She sighed, her back against the nearest wall. Her eyes were shut, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Bea," I replied, "Don't ever tell me you're sorry again." She didn't move. It was only until after a long pause that she slid down to the floor, her eyes now open. She was somehow staring at something that wasn't there. This wasn't her. It wasn't Bea. It was what I made her; a shell with a mind deep down in darkness. She didn't want me near her.

"I'm so tired, Nick," she said. Her voice was faded, drained. I went and sat down next to her. She looked over at me, her head still limp against the wall, "I'm so tired." She was. Looking at her face even closer than before, I saw her eyes drooping, dark circles underneath them. She was pale, thinner. I couldn't look at her again; not like this.

"Come on," I said. She looked at me as I stood up, "You need to sleep." She nodded and stood up too, not letting me help her up myself.

That's when the door busted open.

It was only a half a second long when Joe looked at me. He ran at me after that, slamming me against the wall. I'm improved pretty well on telling the difference between who's trying to hurt me and who's mad at me. I didn't even fear Joe's eyes icily glare at me.

I didn't even know what Bea did between that time. I began to believe that she kept slowly moving upstairs, moving ever so slowly that she appeared as a zombie, just an old drained zombie who didn't even notice what was happening around her because her attention was full on getting what she wanted… to disappear.

"What the fuck are you doing here," he said so rapidly that I almost missed it. I had no time to retort because Bea somehow pulled Joe off me and into the parallel wall. She stood in front of me protectively, like a mother protecting her frightened child. Joe couldn't believe his eyes. "Bea," he said.

"Leave him alone," she hissed. I didn't understand. If Bea hated me, if she thinks I deserve what's coming, why was she protecting me from my brother who has every right to be angry with me?

"Bea," he said "You-"
"I'm not," she said not as viciously now. I'm sure if saw her eyes, that devilish flame I imagined would begin to fade. She understood Joe's position and Joe understood hers because it was all the same. That made me wonder how much it took for Bea to not react like Joe just did.

Joe sighed and stepped towards Bea. I took a mental note as I watched the way he approached her. He didn't back down when her muscles tensed and her feet began to back her away a bit. It amazed me how Joe just walked to her no matter what she did. He took care of her now; not me.

"Let's go, Bea," he said.

"No," she protested.

"I'm just taking you- what happened to your head?"

"I'm fine," she said, weakly squirming away from Joe. He didn't seem to notice. He just focused on the cut in her head until meeting eyes with me.

"What happened?" he asked with a flat tone.

"I saw her nearly getting mugged," I said, "They hit her head against a wall."

"They?" Joe asked, looking at Bea.

"I'm fine," she explained, "It is only a scratch."

"Bea," he said, "What the hell."

"I'm sorry that I'm not where I should be all the time… what do you expect me to do?" Joe looked at her and smiled wryly. Then he remembered that I was sill here. Bea looked at me too, like we were strangers.

What were we now?

Macy's POV

I knew it was a bad idea to tell him right away. I knew it. I should've waited for Nick and Bea to clear things up. It would probably make things easier for Nick, helping him patch up one problem at a time. Hell knows if Nick got to Bea. That's where Joe went though, no matter how hard Stella and I fought him.

"I'm sorry I ruined your night," I sighed. We were sitting against the wall next to the door.

"It was ruined before you got here," Stella laughed. I waited for her to elaborate, "I wasn't ready. We were getting to the point and I just… I got scared." She looked at me, "Is that weird?"

"No," I said, "Not at all. I would be scared too."

"You would?" she asked.

"Yeah," I nodded. We both looked straight ahead after that.

"Do you think he's with Bea?" Stella asked.

"Yeah," I said, "I think so. I hope so… I don't know."

"Can I be honest with you?" Stella asked. I looked at her again and nodded, "I want Nick and Bea to be in love again. I don't care what he did anymore. Whatever he was thinking, he thought it was right at the time. I know it's a completely naïve statement but… I don't care."

"Why do you think I let him leave to follow her?" I laughed. She smiled, "I want them to be in love too. It needs to happen… it's the best for all of us."

"Even Joe?" she asked.

"Even Joe," I said.