A/N: another reminder that I'm not a lawyer and can only google 'Illinois possession charges' so many times before I go crazy. Take all of the legal situations with a grain of salt, okay?

There was nothing left to do when the butterflies turned to dust that covered my whole room. So, I punched a hole in the roof. Let the flood carry away all my pictures of you. The water filled my lungs, I screamed so loud but no one heard a thing. The rain came pouring down, when I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe. ~ Taylor Swift, Clean

APOV

The last week had been hell. Literal hell. When I stopped to think about it, I realized I hadn't gone more than a few hours without taking something in months. Maybe six, maybe longer. My head hurt too much to think about it.

Aunt Alice brought me clean clothes and food every once in a while, always asking how I was. As if the answer was ever going to change. I could see Jasper in the doorway whenever she was in the room with me, always glaring in my direction.

Rarely did I get more than an hour or two of sleep. At first it was the withdrawals; the nausea and sweating and hazy memories that kept me awake. Then, once those started to fade, it was the nightmares. Most of the time Dad was the villain in them, but sometimes it was me. Sometimes it was like my mind was trying to tell me all of this was my fault.

I couldn't have been asleep for longer than an hour or so when I felt my bed get kicked. I jumped, disoriented and drowsy, and saw Jasper standing over me. "Your arraignment is in two hours. Get up."

I was fidgety in the car, constantly pulling at the sleeves of the button-down Aunt Alice had told me to wear. I hated it, and the black slacks I was in. I felt like a younger version of my father. He was always in those fucking suits.

I wasn't sure what to expect from an arraignment. My mind had been too fuzzy lately to really think much about the consequences of my arrest. My nerves kicked in as Eric stopped the car in front of the courthouse.

Jasper had ridden with me, but was silent the entire time, up until now. "Jared is waiting for you."

Shit, Jared? I needed a lawyer?

Jared was beside me as soon as I got out of the car and gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Don't worry, I've got your back."

It was supposed to make me feel better, but I had the urge to vomit in every potted plant we passed as we walked through the courthouse. Fuck, it was intimidating in here. Marble floors, people in suits everywhere just waiting to take away everything from me.

Jared led me to a set of double doors, shaking his head as he opened them.

"What?"

"Figures, they'd send you to this room," he sighed.

I frowned. I had never been to the courthouse before. This room wasn't significant to me at all. It was intimidating as hell though, the giant courtroom. Exactly how I imagined they would look if you were on trial for something big, like murder.

Oh.

"Is this where –"

"Yes."

It was where Mom was. When she was on trial. Scanning the room, my eyes fell on two people in the far corner. Jared kept pulling me to the front, but I stumbled over my feet when I realized it was Mom sitting next to Maggie.

A lot of the nightmares I had the last few nights had been about her. No matter how mad I was at her, she was still my Mom. It was still engrained in me to protect her and I could see her hands shaking from here.

"What is going to happen?" I asked Jared as we sat down. He pulled out files and papers and was sorting through them on the desk.

"It's just a formality. Don't say anything."

Before I could argue a door opened, the one that I supposed a judge was supposed to come out of. Only the judge wasn't alone. Dad walked out with him, shaking his hand. The judge looked over at me and then nodded at Dad, retreating back and closing the door behind him.

Just a formality.

Fucker bribed the judge probably. Maybe paid him off. Was Mom part of the act? Pretending to be scared, only showing up to play the perfect family?

Dad walked over, buttoning his suit jacket and frowning at me.

"What did you do?" I asked.

He stared at me, his eyes dark and tired, but intimidating. "Snapped my fingers and made it go away," he told me, throwing my words back in my face. "Make sure he gets back to Jasper's. I'll be there –" he frowned when his eyes drifted to the corner and sighed before continuing. "I'll be there soon."

My eyes followed him as he walked to my mother and pulled her up from her seat, gripping both of her shaking hands in his. It felt like I was intruding on an intimate moment, watching him simply kiss her cheek and whisper in her ear. I had walked in on much more… uncomfortable moments, but I had to look down as Jared walked me past them, out of the courtroom.

By the time we got back to Jasper's, I was mentally and physically exhausted again. And thirsty. And hungry. Aunt Alice had sandwiches on the counter and I quickly grabbed one and a bottle of water and retreated to my room. She shouted something after me, but I ignored it.

The second I laid down in bed, the sandwich was forgotten as my eyes drifted shut.

Dark…

Rolling over, I intended to get more comfortable and go back to sleep, but a quiet creak caught my attention. My eyes snapped open and saw my father sitting across from me.

"Shit, what are you doing here?" I grumbled, sitting up.

"The court isn't holding you responsible for your actions, but I sure as hell am."

Fuck.

"Jasper and Alice have said you can stay here. You're going to treat them and their house with some fucking respect. Understood?" Dad's voice was hard and cold. He wasn't smiling, his eyes were dark and the frown carved in stone on his face. He wasn't the guy who took me out for ice cream every weekend when Mom was gone working, even in the winter, and this wasn't the man who nearly got detained at a baseball game of mine because he thought the ref made an unfair call against my team. It also wasn't the man I had been dealing with for the last year and a half, the one I thought was the Edward Cullen the city feared. This one was much worse.

I nodded. There was a high possibility my voice would be nothing but a squeak if I said anything.

"School starts in a few days. You won't be going. A tutor will be here three times a week to give you any help you need. You're a smart kid, book smart at least, I'm sure three will be enough."

The book smart comment hurt. My parents weren't the kind to give every kid a ribbon for breathing, but they were always encouraging as I grew up. My tests got put up on the fridge and they always praised my grades, told me how proud they were of my intelligence. For just a split second, I regretted ever meeting Tony.

"There will be random drug testing. If I find out you've used anything stronger than an aspirin there will be major fucking consequences."

His words made my heart stop. I didn't think all of this through. Shit was bad, I knew that, but it never occurred to me that this was it. Everyone knew. They knew I had been using, I'm sure they found the stashes I had in my room by now. The worst part was knowing how intense my father could get about things, and knowing he was completely serious when he told me he would make sure I never had another hit of anything ever again.

"You can't just –"

"I can, and I will," he roared. "You're my son. My responsibility. I'm not going to let you turn out to be some addict, roaming the streets for your next fix until you're found dead in an old motel."

"You'd rather I be like you? A money hungry murderer?"

"You're not going to be like me. If you think I'd ever let you anywhere near this business now…" he trailed off with a shake of his head.

I didn't expect the twinge of regret at his words. The feeling like I had lost something important, something I could never get back.

"Maggie will visit you every day for the next month. She tells me I can't force you to talk to her. Logistically, it would be better if you chose her as your therapist, but if you're uncomfortable talking to her I can find someone else."

"I don't need a therapist. Christ, you're making this sound like a fucking rehab center." Tutor, drug testing, therapy? Fuck that.

"That's exactly what this is. You're going to get clean and sober. I don't care how long it takes."

"What if I don't want to? You can't hold me hostage forever."

"You'll realize it, eventually. Realize how fucking stupid what you're doing is. I'm not going to let you turn out like me."

I frowned. I thought that was all he wanted. "Like you?"

Dad sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I started when I was fifteen. Didn't stop until I was twenty-six. I didn't start off with cocaine, but I got there eventually. If you keep doing this to yourself, if you stay on this trajectory, you won't make it to twenty-six."

He stood, buttoning his suit jacket and glaring down at me. "You're going to get better. I know you hate your mother and I right now, so we'll stay away while you're recovering. Let Alice and Jasper know if you need anything from us."

Panic set in as Dad started to walk out. It was all I had wanted, for months all I wanted was for them both to leave me alone. To tell me I didn't have to be part of this fucked up family anymore. Now, the thought of it actually happening left a knot of dread inside me.

"Is Mom okay?" I blurted out. She had looked so scared at the courthouse.

"In the last week your mother has had to find out her son, the miracle child that she sacrificed everything for, became a drug addict at fifteen and then had to go sit in the same room where her entire character, her entire being was torn apart in front of the world. So, no Aiden, she is not okay.

"But, that's my problem to worry about. You need to focus on yourself right now."

I swallowed the lump in my throat when he turned to leave again. "Dad, I…"

He turned back one last time, finally losing the harshness in his face. Becoming my dad again. "I know."

I sighed and fell back into bed, feeling an uncomfortable sense of finality as the door clicked closed. He knew, but I didn't. He knew because he had been in the same position I was in, but he also knew because he was my father. He knew what I wanted to say, needed to say, before I knew myself.

Dark…

While I was using, I didn't realize how different I had become. People at school barely noticed I wasn't there because I had exiled myself from everyone except Jackson. Not that I would know the extent, I was only allowed one quick look at my cell phone a week, under Jasper's supervision. No one called, though. No one texted, except for Jackson. Not even Tony, which I found odd. He typically texted me, from a new burner phone, once every few weeks to see if I needed a refill on anything.

It took me two weeks to give in to everything Dad had laid out for me after my arraignment. I spent a long time ignoring the tutor and filling up the drug test cups with anything other than what they wanted. It wasn't that I was using, I was just pissed. At everything. And more confused than ever.

It was three weeks after my arraignment that I actually started talking to Maggie. Once I started talking, it was like I couldn't stop. She didn't talk back or look at me like I was insane for being so angry and confused about the situation. She listened politely and offered little pieces of advice when necessary. It wasn't at all like I thought therapy would be like.

I was still pissed and confused, but those emotions were starting to morph into denial and regret. I wasn't sure who my parents were, who my family was, and I didn't know how to get out of the hole I dug myself into.

"Can I ask you something?" Maggie said one afternoon, about a week into our daily talks. I liked calling them talks rather than sessions. Made me feel less like she was a therapist and more like she was just my cousin.

I nodded.

"It seems like you've placed a lot of the blame on your mother and not as much on your father. Why is that?"

I shrugged. This was something I had thought about a lot lately, because she was right. Sometimes I was more angry at Mom about the whole situation than Dad. "Dad didn't have a choice. This was his life since he was a kid. Mom chose it, chose him."

"If she didn't choose him you wouldn't be here."

"Part of me would have. Dad's only half of my genetics."

Maggie sighed, tapping her pen on the pad of paper in front of her. "You know Bella was shot, correct?" I nodded. "One bullet got her shoulder, and the other her abdomen. She was in surgery for hours, flatlined at least once if I'm not mistaken, and when she got out they told her she would never be able to have a child. Your birth was a one in a million kind of situation."

Damn. I had no idea. I knew after Mom had me there were complications and she couldn't have another kid, but I didn't know there were complications before. Dad's words from the last time I saw him flashed through my mind. Miracle child. I didn't understand what he meant by that before.

"Why don't they tell me any of this?" I grumbled, getting a couple fistfuls of hair in my hands and pulling. If they had told me half of this shit years ago we wouldn't be here.

"Because they're your parents and don't want you to worry about anything. They've been trying to protect you from the harsh reality of life from the moment you were born."

The guilt started to sink in again. Guilt for all of this shit I had been putting them through for the last month. For all of the things I said the day Dad kicked me out. Christ, how bad did I have to fuck up for them to actually kick me out of the house?

It was moments like this where the urges always hit, when the need for the smallest escape started to take over.

"Are you still avoiding everyone?" Maggie asked, changing the subject. She did that a lot when she realized she had gotten to me. Which was often.

"Yeah."

I ate in my room, did my homework in my room. Spent as much time in there alone as possible because I couldn't stand the looks I got from everyone else. Jasper usually glared at me or gave me a disappointed frown. Aunt Alice gave me pity eyes, and Delilah usually steered clear of me. I hadn't seen anyone else since I came here.

"You're going to need to face them eventually."

I sighed. "I know."

"Just start with something small. Eat dinner with Jasper, Alice, and Delilah. You've done it a million times before."

I paced my room for the rest of the afternoon after Maggie left. Dinner was simple enough. Most of the time people would be eating, too busy to ask me questions I probably didn't have the answers to.

Aunt Alice typically had dinner ready at seven-thirty. She always brought me a plate before they all sat down. I finally just said fuck it and walked down to the kitchen at seven.

Aunt Alice stared at me, surprised for a minute to see me. "Is everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah. I just thought I would, you know, see if you needed any help," I stuttered, kicking myself for sounding so stupid.

"Can I trust you to chop some vegetables?" she asked with a soft smile.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I usually help Mom with that."

We worked quietly then, and I focused all of my attention on the carrots in front of me.

"She's in Los Angeles," Alice said out of the blue. "Your mom. She's performing at some award show, whatever is on tonight. The first single off of that soundtrack."

"Oh." I wasn't sure what to do with that. Part of me pictured Mom sulking at home the last month. I hadn't really paid much attention to the soundtrack she had been working on before everything went down.

"She misses you a lot. You're the first thing she asks me about whenever I see her."

Things were getting too intense now. Too personal. I dropped the knife and grabbed the stack of plates on the edge of the counter. "I'll set the table."

I was able to breathe a sigh of relief in the empty dining room, but only for a moment. Jasper walked in and frowned at me. I kept my eyes on the task at hand, spreading out the plates and silverware.

Jasper kept his eyes on me all throughout dinner. Aunt Alice thankfully kept the conversation light, usually talking to Delilah about school. When we were all done I stood with Alice and Delilah to clear the table.

When I got back to my room I felt like I had accomplished something, as small as it seemed. It was my first, small step to returning back to normal. Of course, I still had the task of deciding what I wanted my normal to be.

I sat on the edge of the bed, tossing the control back and forth in my hands. Before I could change my mind I turned it on, searching the channels until I found what was obviously an award show.

Most of it was pretty monotonous; performance, award, performance, award. They were obviously teasing a big surprise at the end, though, and I had to assume that was Mom. It was weird as hell, thinking about seeing her on the television for the first time in a month and not face to face.

Mom had gone back to acting when I was twelve, but she always made a point to stay out of the spotlight so much. They were great movies, and I had seen her win an award or two, but this seemed different. Bigger. She suddenly seemed more like the actress I used to hear about and less like my mom. It was weird.

I had to sit through two hours of people I didn't care about before Mom's performance. The camera panned to people in the audience as they announced her name, playing a short montage of her accomplishments. It was almost unreal, how amazed and shocked everyone looked, just at the mention of my mother.

It was like night and day from the last time I saw her. On the screen Mom was confident, smiling at the loud screams when she came out. A month ago she was shaking in the corner of the courthouse.

I focused on the words she was singing. Said I'd catch you if you fall. And if they laugh, then fuck 'em all. The song was supposed to be about the movie, but I knew she mostly wrote about her life. My mind immediately started grasping at any clues the words could give me.

Tell me how's it feel, sittin' up there. Feeling so high, but too far away to hold me. You know I'm the one who put you up there. Was it about Dad? Was it about me? Fuck, this was confusing.

I'm the one who put you up there, I don't know why. Definitely about Dad. About her supporting him, despite his career choices. She was telling me she didn't have answers as to why she did what she did, or why she stayed with him. Right?

Just running from the demons in your mind. Then I took yours and made them mine. I didn't notice 'cause my love was blind. Damn, it was crazy to think she wrote this for me, to tell me why she was with Dad. It was just a song.

Mom got a standing ovation. From everyone in that arena, from artists from my generation that weren't even alive when she was making music. All of a sudden, I realized I had no idea how Mom became the Bella Cullen that everyone talked about. I knew she started acting at sixteen and never turned back. Knew she made visual albums that put the world in a tailspin whenever she released them. I didn't know any details, though.

As if on autopilot, I opened the streaming service on the television and found all of her movies. The ones all about her life. I had watched most of her projects when I was old enough, but I never watched these or listened to her music. It seemed too personal or something.

Now, I needed answers. I couldn't talk to Mom and Dad just yet. There were still too many unresolved issues with them and I wasn't ready to move past all of the lies just yet. That left me with three options: Welcome to the Badlands, Hopeless Kingdom, and reputation.

Dark…

I watched the films, all of them in a row. There were so many things I didn't know that I started a list, questions that I would ask my parents the next time I saw them.

Was Mom really pregnant when she was shot?

Did Dad really stop her from trying to hurt herself after the shooting?

What was the deal with Mom's parents?

Why was Mom running Dad's company when he was arrested?

Was there a reason Aro Volturi was going after Mom?

The movies only flooded my mind with more questions, but they were also pretty amazing. I didn't realize how cool it would be, getting to really know more about them. Mom, mostly, because Dad sure as hell didn't want the public knowing what he really did. But I could tell Mom tried to make the films as realistic as possible.

She became a household name practically overnight and won an Academy Award by nineteen. She had peaked at her career at nineteen but somehow managed to outdo herself at everything ever since. My mom… she was a fucking legend.

And the last time I spoke to her I called her insane. Another pang of guilt stabbed me in the gut at the thought.

It was surprisingly adorable, watching my parents' love story. There was still so much about it I couldn't understand. When we were in Ireland, Mom said she looked past Dad's job because she loved him, but I could tell Dad was his job. How could she look past something that was so obviously part of his personality?

He was a murderer. He supplied the city with drugs and weapons and didn't care about the consequences. Hell, how could he keep doing what he was doing after Mom was nearly assassinated?

This was why I consciously avoided thinking about them the last month. Thoughts of my parents and who they were and what they did made my mind fuzzy and made my body crave the things that got me in this situation in the first place.

Dark…

"I was going to look them up online after I finished the movies," I told Maggie a few weeks later. I avoided thinking about the movies for a while, because every time I did a pang of rage shot through me. "But I was too angry after I finished. And when I get angry I…" That was something I learned pretty quickly. For me, the drugs were a fairly direct result of my anger. They made me forget everything I had to be angry about, and things that made me sad or scared. It was mostly the anger, though.

"Have your cravings been bad lately?"

I shrugged. "Some days are worse."

Last night was the worst night I had in a while. From eleven at night to five in the morning I paced my room, trying to fight every urge to find some way out of this house. I hadn't left the property in a month and a half. The property was huge and I got fresh air every day, but I hadn't been in public since the arraignment. It wasn't that I was dying to visit a coffee shop or anything, but some kind of trip to the outside world would be nice. If I left last night, though, I would have tracked down Tony.

Not that I could have gotten out. I saw the increased security constantly roaming the grounds. I wouldn't make it five fucking feet down the street.

"I wanted to know the real story, you know. What part of the movies was real and what was faked. Dad faking his whole death was obviously fake, but it was a bit too dramatic for my taste." It made for an excellent plot twist in the film, but it wasn't realistic at all.

"That was completely real, Aiden. While Bella was on trial, her and Edward were getting threats left and right. Certain… dangerous people thought he was feeding her information to keep her and the Cullen's safe. Faking his death, showing that she wasn't going to turn anybody in, not even Edward when he was gone, that was the only way to keep them both safe."

"Dad… faked his death? He let Mom think he was dead for months?" I was surprised I wasn't more surprised. After everything I had learned about my family in the last few months, my father faking his death wasn't the most shocking.

Maggie was quiet for a while, letting my mind race through what this meant. Let me realize just how seriously Dad took the phrase protect the family.

"Your parents went through a lot to get to this point of their lives, your Mom especially. You know she'd do it all over again if it meant she had you and your Dad."

I rolled my eyes. "Dad, yeah. Her fuck up son? I'm not so sure." I wasn't so sure her or Dad would ever look at me the same.

"You know they'll talk to you. Answer any questions you have."

"They won't tell me the truth. They never have."

"You think that just because they didn't tell a ten-year-old his father once had to fake his death, they've lied about everything?"

"They never told me Mom was shot. Never told me she had lost a fucking child when she was twenty-one. They failed to mention she was nearly convicted of murder!"

"You need to think about why they kept these things from you," Maggie said, keeping an even tone. "You think they were trying to betray you, trick you somehow, but that's not it at all."

Maggie always said something like that at the end of each session. Something she knew was going to keep me awake at night, trying to figure out the answer to.

Maggie sighed. "I just have one more thing for today."

"Okay?" I questioned. She suddenly seemed very unlike herself. Unsure of what she was going to say.

"You know what we talk about is private. I don't tell your parents anything you tell me during these sessions." I nodded. "But, your father wants me to ask you something." My entire body tensed. "If you answer, I'll pass it along to him. Nothing more, though."

"What, uh, what was his question?"

"He's been asking since day one, but I didn't want it to set you back at all," Maggie mumbled. "He wants to know how you contacted Tony."

How the fuck did he know about Tony?

"I didn't," I admitted. "He always texted me from a different burner phone."

Maggie nodded. "Okay."

Dark…

Maggie went out of town a few days after that last session. Some conference in New York. She told me I would be fine without her, but it made me nervous, knowing I wouldn't talk to her for over a week. I didn't talk to her every day now, she said I was learning to cope more on my own and that three times a week was good. Part of me thought it was part of some plan, like she wanted to plant seeds in my head and force me to think of nothing else until I saw her again. It always worked.

Why was Dad looking for Tony? I guessed he got the name from Jackson. He was my friend and all, but the kid didn't have much of a backbone. If Dad showed up to talk to him I knew he would instantly fold and tell him everything he knew. Which I knew wasn't much.

I wanted to think he was looking for Tony because he was upset that he was dealing to me, but it was probably because he didn't have Tony on his payroll.

Maggie said my parents didn't keep all of this from me to manipulate me, but I still wasn't so sure. They had both done shady shit, and this seemed like it could be in character for them.

Mom's films helped me understand their journey here a little bit, but it still wasn't enough. I still felt like there was another side of the story. Of course Mom's films wouldn't paint her in a negative light.

Tonight marked two months of sobriety for me. I hadn't touched anything since I was arrested, even though I thought about it every fucking day. It probably wasn't the best idea to choose tonight to finally research my family, but that was what I had to do. I spent too long in the dark, oblivious to how the world saw our family. I needed to know all sides of the story before I talked to my parents.

My fingers froze over the keyboard with Isabella Cullen Trial typed into the search engine. Sixteen years of being told never to do this halted me. I rolled my eyes at myself, realizing I was hesitating more about this than I did about taking that first hit of cocaine with Jackson.

Millions of results popped up, articles from years ago and some more recent ones, but I clicked on the 'video' tab first. I scrolled through a few pages, not finding what I wanted. I didn't care about seeing other people's reactions to it, not yet. First, I wanted to see the real thing, needed to know what it really looked like. I found a video online, one that was nearly an hour long, that was titled Highlights of Isabella Cullen's Trial.

There were clips of Dad walking into the courthouse, looking just the same as he did today; dressed in a pristine suit with a glare that could kill. There was a shot of the courthouse as he walked in, swarming with reporters and cameras. It was just a sea of people. A lot of which would shout things at Dad as he walked in, calling Mom horrible names.

I watched Mom deteriorate in front of me. She was healthy in the beginning. She wasn't happy, obviously, but she was herself. As time went on, as I listened to other people's testimony and such, I saw her in her seat, slowly losing all hope.

A lot of what I heard made me cringe. I didn't need to hear about her affair with Jacob Black, and I would never be able to go into my father's office without remembering my mother say they fucked in there. The bias was obvious, though. From the looks on people in the crowd to the frown on the prosecution's face. Everyone thought she was guilty.

I thought the worst part of the video would be watching the actual footage of her finding out Dad was dead. All of the shit that I thought was dramatized in her movie but wasn't. She actually tried to run out of the courthouse after she heart shots. She tried to fight off two giant guards to get to whoever it was as they were dying. It was horrible, but it wasn't the worst part.

No, the worst part was everything that came afterwards. She refused the prosecution's deal, with a speech nearly identical to what I saw in her film, but her movie left out a lot of what came next. Mom visibly flinched every time Dad's name was said. She got physically sick multiple times, hunched over and throwing up while Call talked shit about the family. Then she just… snapped.

"You have a charitable organization that you set up when you were eighteen, correct?" Call asked her.

"Yes."

"Prior to your marriage to Edward Cullen, that organization averaged nearly fifty million in donations a year. Since your marriage, that number has dropped. Why is that?"

Mom frowned. "I don't know. I don't have the specifics."

"Were you letting your husband take money from –"

"Objection! Your honor, Edward Cullen is not on trial here!"

"Sustained. Move on."

"Your honor, Edward Cullen has corrupted Mrs. Cullen and we're –"

"Stop," Mom hissed, glaring at Call. "Stop talking about him like he's this awful person. Stop saying he corrupted me and made me do horrible things. He is," Mom visibly choked on her words. "Was a great man so stop dragging his name through the fucking mud."

"Language, Mrs. Cullen."

Mom's entire demeanor changed, her rage clear even on the screen. "This entire system is a fucking mess," she snarled. "He can say whatever shit he wants to me, spread horrible lies about my husband, but I can't curse? You can all put me through hell because I shot a man, with a legally registered weapon, who broke into my home and clearly said he was going to kill me? But me saying fuck is offensive? Fuck this. Fuck this whole fucking system!"

She didn't even look relieved when the jury came back with a not guilty verdict. She looked sad and lost, like even though she won she still lost. I paused the video when Mom hunched over her chair, holding her head in her hands.

Why wasn't she happy? She got her way; got away with whatever the fuck was really going on with Volturi. She didn't even smile when she was told she didn't have to spend the rest of her life in prison.

The realization crashed down on me, tightening my chest and taking my breath away. Mom turned herself in, not to protect herself from a lifetime of running, but to protect Dad and every other family member from being dragged down with her. She put herself through hell to protect the family and thought she failed because Dad was dead.

The one common theme through the movies, through my parents' lives, was that they protected each other. Then I came along and they did all they could to protect me. They kept me from seeing shit like this. Because as much as I wanted to say I could have handled it before, I wasn't sure.

The more I read, the more I understood. There were articles calling Mom a whore after she married Dad, and articles with stores I knew had to be made up. According to the internet my parents had been unhappily married and close to divorce for years, something I knew was complete bullshit. I couldn't imagine growing up and reading these things, knowing how the world really saw my family.

Fuck. I understood. I got why they didn't tell me all of this. Why they didn't show me any of it. They wanted to give me what neither of them had; a happy, normal childhood. And I ruined it all. Fucked everything up.

I came across another article. One about how Mom checked herself into a mental rehabilitation center following some kind of breakdown. My mind flashed back to her reaction after I called her insane that day in Dad's office. That was what got me kicked out. That was what broke us.

It wasn't their lies.

It was me.

Dark…

I felt like shit. Complete and utter shit after everything I found out a few weeks ago. I stopped eating dinner with everyone downstairs because I didn't deserve the little comfort they gave me. Maggie kept telling me not to think like that, but I couldn't help it. With the drugs, I knew I fucked up. Even though I still craved the escape they gave me, I knew they weren't good for me.

This new fuck up, me blaming everything on my parents, made me hate myself even more. I wanted to go to them and apologize but I didn't know how. How could I make up for the horrible things I said to them?

Ever since I realized not all of the blame was on them, Maggie had been encouraging me to go to a Saturday dinner. Just to see them, maybe talk to them a little bit. The idea of seeing them, looking them in the eye, was terrifying.

It was after a month of self-loathing that I finally built up enough courage to go to a dinner. I didn't tell anyone beforehand. I didn't want Mom and Dad to find out and ditch me or something.

Meeting Aunt Alice and Delilah downstairs, they both gave me surprised looks as I walked over, obviously dressed for dinner. They weren't formal events, but everyone was usually dressed in something other than my typical jeans and t-shirt. I upgraded to a button-down shirt tonight.

"Are you coming to dinner?" Delilah asked, buttoning her coat.

"Yeah, uh, if you think it's okay?" I asked, looking at Aunt Alice.

She gave me a soft smile. "Of course. Your mother won't be there, though."

I frowned. "Where is she?"

"Press tour for the film. She's going to be gone for two weeks."

Well, fuck. Maybe it would be easier, starting off with Dad first. I still wasn't so sure I could handle seeing Mom, not after I knew how fucked up what I said to her was. Maybe this was good.

"Oh, okay. Dad will be there though?"

Alice nodded with a smile. I wasn't expecting the dinner to be at home. For some reason I assumed it would have been at Emmett and Rosalie's, especially if Mom was gone. Alice and Delilah got out of the car without a worry, but all I could think about was the last time I sat in a car in this driveway.

I flinched when Aunt Alice opened the door, looking at me quizzically. "Are you okay?"

"I shouldn't be here," I admitted. "He doesn't want me in there."

"If you don't think you're ready, you don't have to go in. But I know for a fact Edward would want to see you."

"No, he kicked me out."

Aunt Alice sighed and told Delilah to go inside. She motioned for me to scoot over and got in the car beside me, closing the door behind her.

"No matter what he said to you, or what you said to him, he still loves you, Aiden." I shook my head, but she kept going. "I remember the day you were born. Bella went into labor early, spoiling the baby shower I had planned for her by the way, and it wasn't an easy labor. Complications from the damage from the shooting, you know?"

I tugged at a string on my coat and nodded.

"Eventually they took her back for a c-section, but after that there were even more complications so it was just you and Edward for a while. He didn't let anyone other than the nurses see you until Bella woke up. I was impatient, though, and I snuck a peak through the window. The door was cracked open, just a little bit, and I could hear him talking to you.

"Now, my brother has never been considered soft or sentimental, except where Bella is concerned. But in that moment, when Bella was in surgery, you were all he had to hold on to.

"You're the most important thing in the world to them, Aiden. Yeah, you messed up, but they'll forgive you and you'll all move on. You have to make the first step, though."

Alice hopped out of the car, practically bouncing inside. I sat in the car, still unsure about going inside. I knew I had to make the first step. They stepped back because I asked them to; the ball was in my court.

I didn't have long enough to decide. Or maybe I had been sitting out here longer than I thought, because I heard a creak and saw Dad leaning against the front door.

I froze, staring at him. He stared back at me, and I felt my throat tighten. It had been three months since I had seen him, since he bribed a judge so I didn't get in trouble and set up an entire at-home rehabilitation program for me.

Dad walked over to me, slowly like he was gauging my reaction. As he got closer I kept my head down, watching as his legs came into view beside the open car door.

"Are you going to come inside?" he asked quietly.

"I wasn't sure if I was allowed in."

"Are you using?"

I frowned up at him. "No! I haven't done anything since… I've passed every test."

Dad nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. "I know. I'm proud of you." That made me scoff. "I am."

"You shouldn't be. I… I'm really –"

Dad gripped my shoulder and for a moment I thought he was going to shove me into the car and make me leave. He looked at me, his eyes soft and maybe a little sad.

"It's okay," he told me, squeezing my shoulder. "It's going to be okay."

Without thinking I hopped up and wrapped my arms around him in a firm hug. There was a moment where I thought he was going to ignore me or push me away, but maybe he was just shocked. It was only a second or two before he returned it, just as tight.

"Ready to go in?" Dad asked as we both pulled away.

"Yeah," I sighed, following him inside.

It was odd, walking inside after being gone for so long. It looked the same, but felt different somehow. Maybe I was different. On our way to the living room, we walked past Mom's office and I froze.

"Can I…" I motioned toward the closed door.

Dad frowned, looking confused, but nodded. He followed me in, leaning against Mom's desk while I went straight to the wall of awards. I had seen them a million times before, played with them when I was a kid, but I never understood the importance of them. Never realized how hard she had to fight to get them until I watched her movies.

"Two are missing," I mumbled, reading over all of the shiny plaques again.

"Your mother gave me Best Picture and Album of the Year for reputation. They're in my office."

Right. I knew that.

"I told her horrible –"

"We don't need to talk about it right now," Dad interrupted. "Dinner should be ready."

His reluctance made me nervous. Did he not want to talk to me because he was just going to kick me out again? Had I fucked things up that much?

Dinner was quiet for me. I sat next to Dad and I could feel him watching me the entire time but I didn't have the guts to look at him. Being back here, sitting at this table and seeing home for the first time in months, it made me want everything I threw away before.

My room.

Breakfast in the morning with my parents.

School.

Listening to Mom and Dad bicker down the hall, then hearing Mom laugh after Dad had won her over again.

I wanted my life back but I didn't know how to get it.

Everyone started getting up from the dinner table and I panicked. I didn't want to go back to Jasper and Alice's; back to that room where I exiled myself when my life imploded.

Dad was probably waiting for me to make the first move. The last time I saw him he told me nearly as much. But, fuck, it was confusing to have to ask if you could stay in your own house.

We were all in the foyer and Aunt Alice handed me my coat. All I could do was stare at it. Then Dad grabbed it from her.

"I'll drive him back later," he told them, putting my coat back in the closet. Then he looked at me and frowned. "Unless you want to go now?"

Damn. I had never seen my dad so unsure of himself.

"No, I'll stay."

Once everyone left I expected Dad to lead me to his office. That was where we had most talks or meetings as a family. Tonight, he walked back into the living room and sat in one of the plush chairs. I sat down on the couch beside him.

"I'm sorry." My eyes snapped to him, shocked. "As you grew up, I thought I saw the signs, characteristics that would make you want to do this one day. I knew it would take you time to get used to the idea, but I didn't think it would push you to your breaking point. I thought I –"

"You didn't push me, Dad." I swallowed the knot in my throat. During my last few sessions with Maggie we had talked about this, me finally talking to my parents. I knew now that just as much of the blame was on my shoulders as theirs, but it was hard as fuck to actually admit it. "I fucked up. Ever since you told me, I made you and Mom… Hell, the entire family into these villains in my head. I never listened to you when you would talk to me about what you did. All I could see was you killing Jacob Black in front of me."

Dad flinched at the name. "In hindsight, that wasn't a good introduction," he sighed.

"No, probably not," I mumbled. "I should have talked to you, though, instead of making up all of these lies in my head about you."

I spent so long looking at him like he was the devil. I supposed some people around the city always looked at him like that, but I should have known better. Shouldn't have assumed everything. Damn, my inner voice is sounding too much like Maggie these days.

"You were right. I'm not a good man," Dad said, surprising me. "I've killed people, tortured people and never thought twice about it. I sell weapons to people who have no right to have them and supply the city with drugs that no one should have running through their veins. Most of the people that know me see me as the monster you created in your head."

"Why are you telling me this?" I whispered. It was too confusing.

"A few decades ago… If I hadn't met a pretty little brunette and chased her across the country… I would have been as vile and disgusting as my own father. I've done horrible things, but nothing like what he did. The one redeeming quality I have is my loyalty to my family. That's why I do what I do. I've long since become desensitized to the drugs and the killing. I was fourteen when I put a bullet between Sean O'Connor's eyes, and there was no turning back for me."

Jesus. He never had a chance to be anything other than this.

"I do things very differently from my father, but at the end of the day it's all the same."

It was insane, that this thirty-minute conversation gave me a better insight into what my father did and who he was than the year and a half he spent trying to show me everything before.

"It's what you want me to do, too," I said, though my voice made it sound more like a question.

"No," Dad answered quickly. "I want you clean and happy. I know, now, that neither of those things will happen if you do this."

I had a deep urge to protest, but I kept it in for now. I needed to be sure before we broached that subject again.

An odd sense of peace washed over me. It was the first time I had felt anything close to content in months. It was like there was hope again.

"After everything I did… everything I said… You don't hate me?"

Dad shook his head, smiling softly at me. "I don't hate you."

We were both quiet, staring at each other. There was still a lot of shit to go through, but we got the biggest things out of the way.

My dad didn't hate me. I understood more about who he was now, and why he did what he did. There were still a million things I needed to apologize for, but for now we were okay.

"Do you want me to take you back?"

I didn't. I wanted to be here, where it smelled like home and I knew my parents, only Dad for now, were down the hall. Maybe it made me a baby but it just felt… safer knowing they were there.

"No."

I didn't expect Dad to smile at my refusal to leave, but he did. "Come on, your mother has had your room ready since the day you left."

Fuck. Mom.

I had Dad's forgiveness, but I said horrible things to her. "Mom…"

"Is going to be pissed you came back two days after she left town."

"I looked you guys up," I blurted out and Dad stopped in his tracks. "I know what I said was horrible and she should never forgive me for it."

"She already has," Dad admitted, though he was tense. "It's still a touchy subject for me, though."

Of course, it was. Because there was one thing very clear in nearly every video I saw or article I read; my father was my mother's fiercest protector and supporter. He took the witness stand for her, did a television interview to try and save her reputation. He was going to run away with her to keep her from going through the trial.

Maybe it was all backwards, and maybe I was being sucked into seeing things their way, but I was finally starting to understand and see the logic behind all of this. The things they did didn't see so outlandish anymore. I was finally seeing the logic behind following the protect the family motto.

A/N: Just a disclaimer… I've never dealt with or known anyone with an addiction like this. I know for a lot of people it's a much harder road to recovery. This isn't meant to offend or hurt anyone.

Anyway… lots of things happening in this chapter. I hope you all liked your little look into Aiden's POV! As of right now, I don't have any more plans for his POV again, but we'll see. Bella is back next!

Italicized song lyrics in the middle of the chapter are from Without Me by Halsey. You know I had to throw her new song in here :)

Also, we're so very close to 1,000 reviews? All I can think about is how sure I was that no one would read the first chapter of HK and now we're on our fourth story and about to hit 1,000 reviews? Unreal. Thank you.