Hello. Sorry if you're mad about me being all late again. I actually had this chapter written for about two weeks, but I didn't know if I should post it or not because I wanted it to be perfect. This point of the story is so imperative to the story, so I hope I did it justice.

Anyways, we passed three hundred reviews you guys! Thanks! I think I've sung your praises so many times that its getting annoying, but I'd like to say thank you one more time. I wouldn't be here without you guys.

Oh and before I start, some people got confused when I said that I might be editing my chapters after I finished. I am not going to completely take down the story, but I will be editing the chapters so that they flow better. Questions? PM me or just leave a review and I'll try to answer it.

Some cursing and cussing is in the chapter, so beware. And without further ado:

Broken: Chapter 25

Broken Realizations

Fang's POV

Last time on Broken:

His eighth kick was oddly strained. It started with full force, but before his foot collided with my skin, he was pulled back. I opened my eyes in a blur. Jeb, or who I thought was Jeb, was pinned up against the wall by some guy. Who had just broken into my house? Was he going to steal anything? Maybe this is all a dream. Maybe he would leave Jeb in such a bad state that he wouldn't be able to beat me anymore.

Jeb lay crumbled down in the corner. Who had done this? Who had discovered my secret? Who had saved my life? Who was my hero for the night?

"What the hell is going on here, Max?" A voice spoke in fury. I couldn't decipher whose voice it was, but it was familiar. I had heard it before. The strange man bent down to pick me up, and he started carrying me like one would carry a sleeping baby. My body laid limp in his hands. As he came closer, I noticed distinct facial features of the man. His skin was stained an olive color. Dark obsidian hair lay messily on his head, which matched his gloomy eyes. The eyes were so angry that it scared me, but interlaced with his rage was deep care. Suddenly, a name was placed with this intense man. Fang. "Goddamn, Max. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?"

Jeb laid unconscious in the corner with bruises stained all over his skin. Max, even more bruised, looked incredulously at me. "Goddamn, Max. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?" I whispered. She still had the blank, confused look on her face. I carried her outside, away from Jeb and all of the madness from before. I didn't take her very far away from her house. Though it was only around eight, I knew that at night, the city could be dangerous. I brought her into a park where I immediately sat down on a navy blue bench. She sat on my lap and started to sob into my shoulder. I quietly shushed her, in attempts to calm her down.

As we sat like that, I took in the scenery. There was not much in the portion of the park we were in. At least, I couldn't see that much. It was too dark to see anything. There were mostly just large trees providing useless shade, and lampposts that shone just brightly enough to view Max's face. She continued to cry into my shoulder.

It was weird. This was the first time I had seen Max so vulnerable. She was always the strong one. She was the one who took control of the situation. She was the brave solider who could take numerous bullets and would still be up and fighting. Now, she was a pile of tears in my hands. It was like she couldn't stop, which was understandable. She was always the warrior, it was her turn to be the casualty.

But would she really be a casualty? I don't believe so. Casualties, in terms of war, have it pretty easy. Yes, they went through pain to die, but it wasn't like they would be tortured through thinking if it was their fault. I had an older friend who was in army. He had been seriously injured in battle, so he was honorably discharged. He said that every night, he lay awake scared that his actions were the reason why some of his closest friends were dead. So maybe being a solider is worse than being a casualty. A casualty has quick pain. A soldier's pain could last a lifetime. Life is hard. Death seems simpler, but not fulfilling.

There was a saying I once heard, "Liberty in death." It meant that the only escape from hardships and the everyday enslavement of life was death. Now, I was beginning to believe that was true.

After five minutes, Max's crying diminished. The initial shock had passed, and now, she was back in her soldier persona. "Fang, what the hell are you doing here?" She asked furiously, tears still silently streaming down her bruised face. Now, I was the confused one. Why was she mad at me?

"What are you talking about? Remember, I told you today I'd be coming over a bit late tonight. Any why are you mad? He could've killed you. I save you from that asshole and now I don't even receive an explanation?" I asked. Anger was beginning to fuel into me. Still, I tried to keep it hidden. Max had too much going on right now."

"Fang you have no idea what I'm talking about. And you shouldn't get into it." She snapped.

I shook my head in disbelief, and then, in pure rage. "No," I barked. I guess trying to stay calm went out the window. She looked startled, "I am done with you being so goddamn secretive all the time. Now I walk into your house and you are being brutally beaten by your goddamn father, and now, after I save your goddamn ass you won't tell me shit about it because I don't know anything and I don't understand. So why don't you explain it to me before the entire city can hear me."

I exhaled loudly as Max started pulling on her hair. That was her tell; basically, whenever she started pulling on her hair, that meant that she was lying her ass off. Max would never admit this, but she was a terrible liar. She was excellent at many things such as school, and sarcasm, and I had even heard her play guitar once and she wasn't too bad, but lying was probably her worse weakness. Along with trusting people. "It was the only time he's ever done it." She whispered, "He never does it, I swear."

"Bullshit. Why are you defending him? After what he did to you tonight? You hate Jeb. You always have. So why are you pretending like he's a fucking saint?" I almost yelled.

Tears started pouring down her face again, "Fang. Don't yell- I just- I can't,"

I stopped her, "Max," I whispered quietly, "Shh, shhh, listen Max. I'm sorry I yelled. I just can't imagine anything bad happening to you. That's what I'm mad at, not you." Max's breaths settled, "There you go, you're okay Max. I have only one question for you. Has it happened before?"

Max's face full of terror answered for her, "No, please. You can't tell anyone. Please, Fang, please," She muttered quietly.

I shook my head silently, "Max this is a big deal, trust me, I would know. We have to tell someone."

Max scoffed, sarcastically. Even when she was battered and bruised, she would still have this stupid fighter act on. "How the hell would you know anything about this? I'm being fucking abused."

As calmly as possible, I indicated, "Because it's happening to me too," Max fell quiet in shock, as I began my long story. "It started when I was around the age of six. My mother and father were fighting a lot because as you have noticed, we don't really have that much money. It started pretty simply. Anne would just shove me around a bit and call me names. Nothing too big. My dad wasn't around much, he had to work, so I didn't really have anyone to stand up for me. Anne never really did anything too bad till I was around the age of eight, but she stopped a bit when Juliet was born. Anne thought that she was an angel. But, eventually she started it up again. She did it to Juliet too, every once in a while. I usually was able to save her, but every few nights it would be impossible."

Max was still silent. "Fang-"

"Don't give me any pity. I'm sure as hell not gonna give any to you, so you better not give me any."

We just sat there for a minute. Max was still on my lap, looking into my eye, while I tried to look away. I had such an enormous urge to kiss her. We were so close, I couldn't help it. But I knew I couldn't. We were just friends again. I wouldn't be the one to jeopardize it. Max was the first to speak, "Fang, you realize why I can't anyone about it. Jeb would kill me."

I scoffed, "Jeb would go to prison, probably five to ten years. In the meantime, if he even looks at you, you can get him arrested again for assault and attempted murder, and given his previous record, he could go in for another ten to twenty years."

Max was getting testy again, "Well then why did you not tell anyone, if the exact same thing would have happened."

My reasoning was simple, "Juliet and I don't have godparents. My mother's parents don't approve of either of us and would give us up, and my father's parents are both dead. I only have one aunt, and she's in jail for murder. I'm not eighteen yet, so if I turned in Anne, then Juliet and I would be put in foster care. We'd be spilt up because she would go to a foster family, and I'd be put in a group home because of my police record. I'm not gonna have Juliet and I be separated. We're the only ones we have left."

Max was silent. "Come on, we need to get you home." I said quietly. I opposed the idea of Max going back to that house, but I knew that she would have to go home sometime. It would be better if she was there before Jeb woke up again.

"No," she pleaded, "no, no, no, no, no. I can't go back there. He's going to kill me. I can't go back." She began crying again.

I quieted her down, "No, he's not going to hurt you. I knocked him out, and with the look of how drunk he was, he won't wake up until late tomorrow. Don't worry. You are going to be okay."

And I'm gonna end it there. I'm sorry its so short. I wanted to keep it at one scene because I didn't want to bother with more than one. I'm really tired. Over the last few days I have completely redoing my room because I'm moving out of my house. I'm more or less exhausted. I'll see you guys soon. Night.

~Maximum Reading