A/N: Warning: This story will contain graphic depictions of violence, mature language, abuse and lemons in later chapters.

Chapter Seventeen

-Truth Be Told-

I was walking down a long hallway. My heels clicked sharply on the polished marble floor, and my dress skimmed the back of my ankles as I walked. The apartment was well furnished, the black leather accents mingling well with the soft seashell colored cushions and carpets. Everything was modern, sleek and sexy.

I reached up, touching the intricate braid that curled my hair back from my face, and sought to pull the pins that kept it all in place. My hair began to fall around my shoulders as I walked, and I longed for a hot shower. Rolling my neck, I felt the tension in my body relax slightly.

Michael would be out for the night. He had told me as much this morning before the benefit, telling me that he had important meetings with members of SeaGreen's investors all evening, and he did not want to be disturbed.

Suited me fine.

When I arrived in the bedroom, pristinely cleaned and pressed, I kicked off the heels and while walking to the shower reached behind me to unzip my dress. The gold shimmered in the light as it fell to a cool stone floor, and soon my jewelry followed it, tossed carelessly behind me.

I took my time in the shower, washing my hair slowly, massaging out layers of hairspray and mousse. Once clean, I checked the clock on the wall and smiled. I had plenty of time till he came home. I dressed, brushed my hair and teeth, and once back in the ridiculously ostentatious kitchen, grabbed a bottle of wine and headed for the deck that wrapped around our corner of the top floor.

New York City bustled and rang out underneath me; and for once I was glad for the never ending drum of activity. I drank the wine greedily, pouring from the bottle into my waiting lips. I took a couple long drags and tossed my wet hair behind me.

I watched the city underneath me, and felt the familiar buzz of alcohol in my temple as I imagined myself down among them.

A street dancer wearing a Statue of Liberty costume posed with a set of tourists far below me, and while the details were fuzzy from a distance I saw the flash of a camera.

I took another swig.

I thought briefly I had never seen the Statue of Liberty after four years living in the City. Just like I'd never seen Ellis Island. Times Square though? I had the best seat imaginable, looking down on the Square from Michael's ridiculous apartment every night.

I don't know how long I sat there staring at the city, maybe hours? But the relief of being alone was so strong I was happier than I'd been in weeks.

At some point the bottle of wine was set aside, empty now and I felt deliciously numb. I raised my feet in the air, stroking them against one another, enjoying the freshly shaved smooth sensation mingled with a fuzzy mind.

With a flick of my ankle I sent one slipper soaring off the edge, then the other. I watched them flutter down the side of the building, and imagined just for a moment, following them down legs first.

XXXXXXXXXXX

When I awoke, the world was still. Masen slept beside me, an arm wrapped tightly around my middle, and his palm splayed protectively over my stomach. For a moment I just listened to his low breathing. In...and out...In...and out...

Michael.

Mike Newton.

That was his name.

Small snippets of memory filled my head in a rush and I was almost paralyzed as I remembered bits and pieces.

Meeting him at the local Hardware Store.

Him asking me on a date.

His big goofy blue eyes and childlike grin. Just a young teenager.

His eyes had darkened with age, and his smile had faltered into a sneer.

But why? Why would he...what had changed...

I closed my eyes and willed the wave of nausea away, now an expert at the discipline, and took deep breaths.

I was safe. I was loved. He wasn't here.

Turning towards Masen for a moment, I studied him in sleep. His whiskers were grown out again, and his long dark lashes fanned over sculpted cheekbones. His hair, wild as ever, flopped over thick brows, currently furrowed slightly in sleep, as if thinking deeply.

I pressed my lips to his neck, breathing in his scent and resting my forehead against his shoulder. His hold on me tightened and he mumbled something sleepily as he tucked his chin into my hair.

Masen was my home. He was solid and unyielding, and would follow me wherever I needed him to go. I had offered myself to him, and he took me in all the ways I needed him too. And...denied me...in all the ways I didn't know I had needed him too.

"Mm y'okay?" One eye peaked open, in slumberous concern.

I nodded a little and kissed his nose. A lazy smile spread across his lips and he nuzzled my neck as he fell back asleep.

Later, when I had some time to process all this new information I would tell him what I had remembered, but for now I wanted to relish the last few peaceful moments of his comforting embrace and this cozy old church.

I stayed wrapped in his arms for a few moments longer, then gently disentangled myself, murmuring words of affection to Masen as he stirred. With a sigh he released me and I covered myself in one of his sweaters.

I sat alone on one of the few remaining pews of the church, now pushed up alongside the curved wall to allow room for furniture, books and drawings from Seb and his school day lessons.

So long ago now I had arrived here with nothing. I remembered Ephraim telling me his stories in that little kitchen, shooting my buck from its window and slowly earning my independence and confidence back piece by piece. I remembered Seb's little toes peeking out from his PJ's as he sought out comfort from me in the night.

I glanced up to his little hideout, and after seeing the flicker of his candle I climbed slowly up his ladder, peeking inside. It was barely dawn, and I wondered what had kept him up.

Seb was currently busy painting on a makeshift easel Masen had made for him from barn scrapings. It was quite a beautiful simple little painting. Small black ears and big green eyes of a kitten were being shaded in methodically. The whiskers were silver, and she seemed to be curled in some sort of large salad bowl.

I knocked gently against the wooden beam, and Seb glanced over in surprise. He smiled and helped me up, tugging on one of my hands.

"Couldn't sleep?"

His big green eyes looked tired, but as always held that spark of amusement that made Seb, Seb.

"I remembered something that I wanted to paint. This is my cat, Leeloo. She used to sleep in bowls. Mom hated it." He laughed a little then dropped the brush next to his set of paints.

"She's pretty. I don't think I've ever had a pet." I thought of Leah but she seemed far too human like to call her a pet. "What was she like?"

Seb reminisced to me, sitting next to me on the bed and both of us staring at his painting. He told me about how Leeloo used to eat bugs, and even once caught a mouse and placed it in his Dad's work boots. He told me where their house was in town, and that his Mom had painted flowers on the door to help Seb find his way back home when he was out adventuring. He explained to me the last day he saw his Mom and Dad, and how it felt to watch them leave.

"They were just going to go see Grandma. It wasn't snowing yet, and Father Ephraim offered to take me in so we could go to the clubhouse and fish and hike. It was supposed to be an adventure." He flopped back onto the mattress, staring up at the ceiling and I joined him. "They left, told me they'd be back in time for next Sunday's service, and that they'd pick me up then. Mom told me she'd make me cheeseburgers when I came home. My favorite."

I looked over at him. In the time I'd known him, his eight years was almost due to turn into nine, and some of the softness had left his face. I reached out and stroked his cheek, he in response let out a little breath.

When I had first met him it seemed so painful for him to talk about home, but as everyone had, he had adjusted to the situation and hardened himself to the harshness of his world.

It was quiet for a moment before he continued.

"I remember the day the storm came. Father Ephraim was setting up for Sunday service, it was a Saturday. It was so bad the windows were shaking. Father was worried so he told me to hide in the basement. He didn't come back for days."

I took Seb's hand in mine as he talked, and he turned to face me. A red curl spiraling down his forehead.

"He told me we had to stay here. That everyone was gone."

I took a deep breath and asked the age-old question. "Did he tell you what happened to your parents?"

Seb shook his head, playing with my fingernails as he mumbled. "No. But I know he thinks they are dead too. Even if he won't talk about it."

"Do you think they are?"

Seb bit his lip, thinking hard, looking down at our hands. "I don't know. Maybe."

I hugged him, curled with him on his little bed and stroked his hair. "If they are out there, we will find them. I promise."

He sniffled a little, and closed his eyes. "Maybe they've for-"

"No." I cut him off. "No one could ever forget you."

He reached out and fingered the necklace I wore. It glimmered softly in the candle light, and I could tell wheels were turning in his head.

"You know I used to be scared of Father. Before."

That surprised me and I blinked above his head. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. He was fun during trips with the scouts. But his sermons were scary. He used to yell so loud the lights would shake. He always talked about scary stuff."

I wondered aloud when the last time he prepared a sermon was.

Seb shrugged. "Not since the storm. He reads passages with me, but that's it."

I thought about Ephraim. All that he had done for me. All that Seb had done, knowingly or not. They had been everything to me, they had been my only companions for months. And while I had worried for them, concerned about their safety and wellbeing, I realized I had never committed anything to them.

I craved commitment from Masen, not in the formal relationship sense, but in the oath that he no matter what would be there for me.

They deserved that.

I laid my cheek in his hair, and closed my eyes.

"You know I'll come back right? You know I love you."

There it was. The first time since the crash I said those words. Part of me was so glad it had been to him.

He nodded into my chest, holding my necklace as he began to doze off.

He slept soundly in my arms, finally resting, and so my eyes began to droop once more, my eyes resting on the kitten.

Somewhere between consciousness and sleep I tried hard to remember something good from my past I too could hold onto. Something sweet and non complicated.

Just as I peered over the ledge into a dream, I thought I remembered a laughing male smile, a big bushy mustache and brown eyes that matched my own. The twinkle in his eye reminding me of Seb.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Masen was working on securing the load on Leah's back as I sat inside with Ephraim, finishing my cup of coffee before we left. I felt my goodbye to Seb had been accomplished, so we elected to let him sleep.

Ephraim sat now with me in the quiet, both of us watching Masen.

"He's good for you." He said quietly.

I nodded. "He is."

"And he'll watch over you. Keep you safe. Bring you back."

I looked over at him, his voice cracking on the last word.

He met my gaze, those cat-like eyes dancing over my face. He had run out of steam it seemed. Finally the warnings had stopped and the man underneath had time to process that this was the time to say our goodbyes, if only for a few days.

"I'm coming back. I promise." I reached over the table and took his hand. "Ephraim I need you to know-"

"Ah..." He waved his free hand between us, his eyes misty. "No need for that. You'll come back," He patted his hand on mine.

It was time, and we both knew it.

"Ephraim, I need to know what you saw. When you went to town. I need to know about the ghosts. What we are facing."

He gripped my hand, and suddenly I was transported weeks before, when he had told me of his family. Closing his shifting silver eyes, his voice became low as he spoke. He seemed to be gathering himself, preparing for a story he had long wished he would never need to tell me.

With a stiffness in his shoulders, he began.

"I heard a distress call on the radio while I was preparing for Sunday Service. The local weather outlets were reporting blizzards moving in from the south, and that they suspected winds capable of destroying buildings and picking up large debris.

I called into the local clinic, checking in on the damage so far. They said they were full of frostbite victims, hypothermia cases. Some were trauma, horrible head wounds from flying twisted pieces of metal and collapsed buildings. The two doctors we had were there working, but only one nurse had shown up. The rest were MIA."

Ephraim sighed, rubbing his temple.

"I had Seb with me. I knew they needed help but I knew he couldn't come with me. I set him up in the basement with some food and headed out. The storm was almost here and it was so cold I felt the water in my eyes try to turn to ice.

I had a truck, and I managed to get her working. I made it to the highway, but the traffic was clogged up. No one on the streets moved, just hundreds of people stopped by fallen trees and accidents. Some people had plain abandoned their cars.

I…I saw a few bodies, frozen after impact."

His hand on mine tightened.

"I decided to ditch the truck and book it to town. It took me almost ten hours, and by the time I got there, it was pitch black and the snow was coming down so fast that the wind had it hitting me sideways.

Most of the houses were empty. The few that weren't had boarded up the windows and were huddled inside. We are a small valley town surrounded by mountains. At best we had a thousand people here to begin with, other than truckers passing through.

I was too weak to make it into the clinic that first night. I passed out in an abandoned home."

He met my eyes now, his brow furrowed, willing me to understand.

"It was horrible. Bodies were everywhere. I checked vitals, but they were all dead. Most of the homes and buildings caved in by huge mountains of snow. When I got to the clinic, no one was there. It was as if all the sick and wounded just got up and left. Nothing was to be done."

Tears came to his eyes and his head bowed for a moment, pain in every feature.

"Doe, these were the people I found after…well, they took me in. They came to me for guidance and I… I failed them. The church somehow survived but all those people…god. Frozen and trampled. Being eaten by wolves and bears.

I left the clinic the next day. I took what I could, and went to every home. Nothing."

I felt my own hot tears spill down my cheeks and I moved to sit next to him, holding his hand in my lap. "Ephraim…that's enough-"

"No. No. You need to know." He coughed a little, reigning himself back in, his dark hair loosening and falling around his shoulders as he shook his head.

"When I started my way back, and got to the highway, they were all there. At first I thought I was hallucinating. They were walking forward, through the empty cars and frozen bodies, they were drifting like a sea of the dead towards hell. I screamed, waved, but they ignored me. Their bodies only pale and translucent, bloodless.

I see their faces when I sleep. I see them just drifting, not lifting their feet."

"Doe, I think we are ready-" Masen entered, brushing off his palms and spotted us. I held Ephraim's shaking hand in mine and looked up at him. "Doe?" He looked back at me, alarmed.

Ephraim rose shakily out of his chair, his eyes burning with grief. "You will not let her die. You will bring her back alive." A tear fell from his eyes as he looked at Masen with a fierceness I had never seen.

The soldier in Masen responded, and without question stiffened his spine and nodded.

"Yes, sir."

A/N: Whew, that was intense. They will be heading out next chapter.

I do want to let everyone know I have published another story, "Blood From Stone." I will be updating these two stories simultaneously. If interested, the description is below.

Issa Dwyer is silent to most. Her world is one of numbness and loss, a way of life that has changed her from a sweet little girl, to a jaded and protective young woman. Reserved to a solitary life, she never imagined how it would feel to once again find a family, a home. When she meets another broken heart she must decide if the walls she built are worth more than a chance at love.

This story has two main points of inspiration. The first is "The Long Dark" by Hinterland Studios. There are some elements of this story I am borrowing, but the premise is mine alone. This is a gorgeous, gripping and enchanting game. I highly recommend you play it.

The second is "Washed Up" By xrxdanixrx. I loved this story and the idea of amnesia came from reading. I encourage you all to read this wonderful story.

Stephanie Meyer is the sole owner of the Twilight Franchise, and she owns all related characters you may see here. This is merely a fanfiction of her work.