Disclaimer: I don't own Hannah Montana.

Chapter 12: Breaking Through

The next morning, I woke up on the floor. The covers were strewn everywhere, probably as a result of my kicking. My cheek throbbed dully, and my ass felt as if it were bruised. My eyelids drooped with leftover sleepiness. I sat up with a grunt and rubbed my head. It took me a minute to get my bearings straight. When I had my bed made up, I smelled frying bacon, and the small sizzling sound that drifted up to my room. My stomach took that exact moment to try and speak to me.

Feed me. Feed me.

I smacked it lightly, murmuring a shut up to it. I shuffled down the hall to the bathroom, and found myself staring into the mirror. My eyes, once a beautiful cold steel blue gray, were now dull and lifeless, with no hint of blue whatsoever. There was no shimmer. No mischievous glint. No hint of emotion whatsoever. I grimaced as my eyes drifted over my hair. Wavy. Limp. Disgusting. I knew a shower wouldn't fix it. There was no luster, something even my shampoo couldn't fix. I found myself looking for scissors, and without any thought, I began to cut my hair. About 15 minutes later, I had bangs that framed my eyes down to my jawline, and the rest of my hair brushing against my shoulders.

As I traveled downstairs, the smells of breakfast greeted me strongly. I was startled by Oliver's voice, happy and lifting.

"Just in time! I'm finished." He turned, holding a plate with 4 omelets stuffed with cheese, bacon, ham, and mushrooms. "Holy shit, your hair! It looks good. Did you get bored, hun?"

"I got tired of looking like my old self. Figured it was time for a change."

He grinned, the Oliver I remembered showing through. "Change can be good."

I sat at the table and he fixed my plate for me, complete with a glass of apple juice and buttered toast.

"Going all out, huh?"

"I always go all out, Miles."

As soon as I started to dig into the meal laid before me, I heard footsteps. Someone coming down the stairs. And of course, being the curious person that I am, turned to look. Jake came down, went straight to Oliver, and planted a soft kiss on the crown of his head, to which Oliver looked up at him lovingly. The person who followed Jake made me cough and splutter.

Lily. Again! What the hell? I was whining to myself, I could hear the tone of my thoughts.

She made eye contact with me, then turned to get her food. Good, she won't talk to me. Now I want some goddamned answers. I opened my mouth to chew out Oliver, but he interrupted me.

"Sorry, Miles. I was going to tell you last night, but Lily's staying here for a week or two until she can get her own place. I'm sorry, Miles."

Too tired and too hungry to argue, I looked down at my plate and continued to eat. Oliver sits beside me with Jake on his other side, leaving only one place for Lily to sit. She sits beside me, but scoots as far away from me as possible.

After breakfast, I told them I was going for a walk. Now I'm walking down the street, bundled up in a jacket. As I meandered through this new neighborhood, I came upon a small park, one with swings, and two slides. The slides look rusted and to any five year old, they would be ginormous. Despite myself, I smile, remembering the days when I went to the park with my parents and brother. Sighing, I move over to the swings, not in much better shape than the slides. I sat delicately on one, feeling my hands slide down the freezing steel chains. I sat there, swinging only slightly with my legs not moving. It wasn't long before I heard a twig snap and soft footsteps in the sand.

"Miley…"

Shit. Her, again? What? Am I carrying around a goddamned sign that says, "I hate your fucking guts right now, so please come bother me."?

Fuck it all.

"Miley…you don't have to say anything." Good, I won't. "I just want to get things off of my chest."

I look up, my lips set in a thin line, already impatient. She was sitting in the swing next to me, looking down at the damp sand. She drew circles and lines with the tip of her shoe. Her fists were wound tight around the chains, skin stretched white over her knuckles. Either nervous, scared, or both.

"First off, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for running out and not giving you a chance to explain. I regretted it. I still regret it. And I'm sorry for not coming to visit you. I don't have a reason and I'm not going to give excuses. I guess I was scared. Still scared. You killing her scared me shitless, and I thought you hated me. God, I'm stupid. I had all these things running through my head. Never once did I think that you still cared. Never…"

Her voice faded and she sat silently, unmoving, not even making weird pictures in the sand beneath her. My throat hurt, and my eyes burned. I was opening my mouth to tell her to fuck off, when my voice caught, my breath hitched, and a sob leaked out of my already opened mouth. My cheeks felt wet, stinging cold with every small breeze that passed us by. The tears didn't subside when I wanted them to, they only flowed more freely. My sobs increased, until it was difficult for me to breathe, much less speak. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her stand up. She moved closer to me, her arms wrapping around my waist. Without thinking, I clung to her, burying my head in her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Miley. I'm so goddamned sorry." Her voice hitched and I looked up to see tears staining her cheeks as well. My last coherent thought, before my cries became hysterical was that I haven't cried in 15 years.

Lily held me. As if nothing had ever happened between us, telling me not to worry, she was never going to leave me again. She clutched my back and just held me.

Why? Why do I let her tear through the shell I built around myself. The shell I built so specifically to keep her out and she tears right through the damned thing.

Right through…

A/N: I hope you guys like this one. I credit this chappie to a song. :D
It's called Let Go - Red. You should listen to the end of it while reading the end of this chapter. Chepchep.