A/N: Compared to other chapters this one was easy to write, save the last couple of lines. They alone took me the better half of today. But I finished and all before midnight.

Special kudos to NeoNails, kam6zx, and mag721 who have a delightful knowledge of music! It was A Fine Frenzy and that song is so tragically beautiful and came at such a perfect time that I had to give it it's rightful spot as the title of the last chapter.

Also I would like to thank northerlywind and zoraya h for your inspiring reviews! And to all of you who have read and reviewed, I really do appreciate it! Fo' reals. I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Oh and one more thing! I have to tell you that NeoNails and Beth - Geek Chick, my favorite CA FF writers, deserve metals of honor because when I tire of this fandom they happen to conveniently post around the same time and my faith in CA FF is renewed! So if you haven't, go read their stuff (after you finish this chapter of course ;))

Happy Reading!

Guilt By Any Other Name

Annie woke because she was cold. Bone aching, fetal position, balled muscle cold. It was all she could to stretch out her limbs, wincing as they loosed and lengthened, her blood rushed quickly through her stiff veins, making her fingertips prickle. Vaguely aware of the warmth at her back, she pushed off someone's arm to sit up, trying to understand why she was so damn cold. It was still dark out but not night dark as she could see the sun's fingers ghosting through the velvet blue sky.

Honey brown eyes discovered that the others were still sleeping; Jamie curled up beside her, Corrine entangled with a snoring Conrad, her hair thrown over Streaker Johnny's face who, on every exhale, sent wisps of it flying. There were mounds of comforters all over the shoreline, their occupants equally still. Just down the beach a figure sat at the water's edge, close enough that the foam licked at his feet.

Auggie.

After but a moment of consideration, Annie stumbled her way towards him, trying her best not to kick sand in anyone's unprepared face. It was a task. As she got closer to him she could see his thick wavy hair alive with the wind rushing off the ocean, his handsome face serene and tilted towards the sky. As she sat down beside him she pulled her knees to her chest and looked up at the ever lightening sky.

"You always get up this early," she asked, he smiled lightly when she spoke but didn't turn to her.

"We as the teenaged race waste a lot of time sleeping, I intend to break this cycle," whether he intended to or not, his voice got softer, more reverent, "Besides, the sun's about to come up."

She glanced at him then, utterly fascinated.

"How do you know that?" Blood bloomed in her cheeks like wild roses, her mouth once again reacting before her manners could catch up. "I am so sorry that was rude…"

His soft laughter shocked her. He leaned in close as though sharing a secret, she shuddered at his warmth. Or that's what she told herself.

"I'll tell you a secret," he began softly, his hot breath against her neck spreading goose skin across her flesh, "I like your questions."

A breathless 'oh' escaped her mouth.

"A lot of things tell me, though," he said normally, looking back up to the sky, "The temperature goes up for one thing, birds start singing, these idiots stop snoring, but mostly I can feel it. Almost like weight on my skin. I've missed a lot of sunrises but I guess seeing it really isn't the point anyways."

The intimacy of the conversation caught her off guard. She stared at him for a long moment, captivated by the thoughtful plummet that his warm brown eyes had taken. But there was something behind that thoughtfulness. Something sad. She wished she knew him well enough to understand, to hold knowledge of him that was currently beyond her imagining.

"I think it's the certainty of it, the sunrise I mean," he continued, the inside corners of his eyes scrunching in concentration, "Because no matter what life gives you, the sun goes up and comes down. Like it's trying to remind us that the world hasn't ended, just changed."

"How… Poetic," she all but whispered, not daring to speak louder for fear of ruining the moment.

"Heh. I have my moments," he grinned.

Dawn broke, destroying night's last hopes of holding dominion. Light splashed across the sky like paint spilling over a dark canvas; gold, red, pink, purple. Annie glanced at Auggie for half a moment to see him sitting frightfully still, it was something she envied him, this stillness. He wore it so well. Looking back at the sun's gathering majesty, she felt her chest constrict. Auggie was blind and until that moment she assumed he had always been so, it was part of who he was and that was that. But that wasn't true. He wasn't a one dimensional being just like she wasn't. Everyone comes with a past, after all, but often times she forgot. She wondered what it must be like to understand sight and yet lack the ability to attain it.

"I don't know about you but I'm starving," the words tumbled awkwardly across his tongue, his eyes resting on her shoulder though his gaze was far beyond, "What do you say we wake the ruffians and terrorize the local Waffle House?"

"Mm, hot waffles," she sighed at the thought of hot food, "You, sir, speak my language."

Wearing a smile that killed her, he rose to his full six feet and offered her a hand which she eagerly accepted, allowing his strength to pull her up. His skin was almost hot against hers and it sent a shock straight down to her frostbitten toes. His brow scrunched and he held her petite hand for what felt, to Annie, like an eternity.

"Are you cold," he asked, not waiting for a reply before removing his hoodie. "You should've said something."

"Oh, you really don't have to," she muttered quickly as he held it out to her.

"Anne Walker," he mock reprimanded her, "Never deny a man the opportunity to be a gentleman, it doesn't happen too often. Take it, really."

As the body-warmed fleece slid over her skin, a long sleeping pang ignited in her stomach. That feeling of being taken care of, the feeling of being safe. She hadn't felt it properly since… well, since him. She looked up at him with a smile and a new ache quickly overwhelmed her. A white long-sleeved shirt draped conspicuously over Auggie's form. Just beneath the thin cotton, Annie could make out the hills and valleys of his broad chest, the slightly stretched collar revealing the ghost of his collarbone beneath lightly tanned skin. All at once the long dormant need between her hip bones blazed with intensity.

"Uh, thanks," she said, expending all the oxygen in her lungs and then some, "Breakfast, we need breakfast."

Her feet carried her back towards the sleeping teenagers, her cheeks an embarrassing shade of pink. Damn hormones.

"Hey Annie," she spun around at the sound of his voice, her eyes wide, "Do you mind?"

For the first time since she'd known him, Annie noticed that he looked uncomfortable. It was then that she realized something missing from his person, something that she had yet to see him without. Normally, when not in use, it could be found folded in his back pocket or on the lunch table near his hand but it seemed he'd completely neglected his cane that morning.

How rebellious, she thought. It seemed he wasn't as settled in his blindness as he let people believe.

"Yea- I don't mind."

Not having any idea on how to go about leading a blind teenaged boy, she let her fingers slide into the crook of his elbow, noticing how his bicep tightened beneath her touch. Almost simultaneously, he gently removed her hand from his elbow and reversed their positions, falling in step with her while he pulled himself closer, an amused smile on his face. Annie blushed as he gave her arm a friendly squeeze and all the while her hormones were singing:

He's touching me…

xXx

The horrendous noise jangled around him; glasses being set on the table, forks scraping across plates, the bell over the door chiming, shoes squeaking on tiles and about a hundred people talking that hadn't yet discovered their 'inside voices'. Everything was twice as hard to decipher with a group this large, that is, a group large enough to fill more than half the tiny restaurant with hung over teenagers all possessed with a serious case of the munchies. His senses seemed to smear together in a blur of voices, smells, noise and people trying to get his attention. He had one of two options:

Option A: He could slip on his sunglasses (something he only did whilst in a 'mood') and brood silently or,

Option B: Focus all of his energy on something that didn't annoy him.

Though Option A was alluring, he decided to cut out the calamity by concentrating on one thing; the small, grapefruit scented girl that sat beside him. Something about her eased the tension from his jaw and shoulders. There was a timid energy about her, she was soft and delicate, friendly and warm. In essence, she was everything that Corrine wasn't. Annie wasn't forceful in her movements, she didn't have that commanding authority that Corrine wielded like a weapon of mass destruction.

He liked the way she leaned into him when she laughed and the way she scoffed under her breath when she disagreed with someone at the table. He noticed how soft and even her breathing was and the way her legs swung beneath the table, every once in awhile brushing against his jeans. These were several things he knew about her but there were worlds that he didn't know. In his mind's eye he tried to shape her, he tried to make out the contour of her lips or the exact color of her eyes, he wanted to know if her skin was like milk or cream and he wanted to see how she blushed when he touched her because he knew that she did. All of these mysteries frustrated him.

A dull pain throbbed in his shin and he sighed, looking up towards the girl in front of him. He should have known this was coming, because her pencil had stopped scratching against her notebook some time ago.

"What are you so thoughtful about, Anderson," she asked in her usual drawl, she always spoke like she had all the time in the world.

"Oh you know, just pondering the meaning of life," he grinned impishly.

"The usual then, huh," she said, she was quiet for a moment and in that moment Auggie knew he was in trouble, "So, can I talk to you outside for uno momento?"

"It should be 'un momento' not 'uno'," Annie said suddenly, automatically.

"Right," Corrine said condescendingly, Auggie on the other hand, found it amusing, "Anyways, let's talk. Come on."

"Just saying," Annie mumbled as Corrine's dull boots clacked on the tile floor. Auggie gave Annie's knee a friendly pat before slipping out of his chair.

Corrine grabbed his hand and pulled him along like he was a coat hanging over her shoulder. He hated the way she lead him, it was always careless and- a sharp pain cut into his hip as he caught the corner of a table. The sound of silverware being tossed around made heat crawl up his neck, he muttered a soft apology to the occupants of the table.

"My bad, baby," Corrine said, though in Auggie's opinion, she didn't sound at all apologetic.

Pulling his hand out of her grasp, he corrected her lead and placed his hand in the middle of her back to walk behind her and avoid the conniving tables and chairs.

The bells above the door chimed as they stepped outside, the cold air stealing Auggie's breath. Once she had turned the corner, she stopped and he dropped his hand from her back to lean against the wall. She muttered something unintelligible as she rustled around in her bag.

"What's all this about," he asked, not so much as attempting to keep the annoyed intonations from his voice. He knew by the way it was throbbing that he would have a bruise on his hip later and he didn't appreciate it.

"Nothing," she said, her words broken. There was the very slight smell of tobacco and Auggie knew she had an unlit cigarette in her mouth and was probably looking for the Zippo lighter she'd stolen from her father's desk before he left. "I needed a smoke and you needed a time out."

"Corrine, what are you talking about," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. There was a headache building behind his eyes, it was the kind that put him on his ass and Corrine's now-lit cigarette wasn't helping.

"You want a drag," she asked coyly.

"No, I don't. Would you answer my question," he insisted as he dug through his bag in search of his sunglasses. Not only could he feel a Corrine induced 'mood' coming on, but he wanted to be able to keep his eyes closed without weird-ing anyone out.

"You should smoke, maybe it would chill you out a bit," she mumbled. He let his head roll to the side to stare towards her, which he found to be more effective with shades on. "Okay, okay. God, August, don't get your panties in a bunch. I just thought you and I could use some alone time. That's all."

"Corrine Elizabeth Morgan," Auggie began exasperatedly, her possessive streak was taking over. She had done this so many times before, afraid of having to share him with someone else, "There's nothing to be jealous of, so stop bristling."

"Ugh," she scoffed unconvincingly, "I am not!"

"Whatever," he sighed.

"She's not even your type," she said matter-of-factly.

"Really," he humored her.

"Listen, I just don't want you rushing into things with Walker and I can tell that you like her, so don't try to deny it."

He hadn't had enough sleep for this argument but as she melted into his side, he couldn't help but cater to her. There was some power she held over him and she knew how to use it. It was an affection towards her that he'd never felt for anyone else and he doubted he ever would.

"Come on, Cory," he said cajolingly, "I'm interested, yes, but I've only known her for two days. Besides, I'm not going to get rid of you over a girl."

"I just- I don't want you to crash, Auggie. Not like you did with Tash or Liza. Neither one of us can go through that again."

Just the sound of their names made his chest hurt a bit, the wounds old but still gaping. Back then he was as stable as a grenade and when the pin was pulled, the shrapnel spared no one. He shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned his head against the wall, letting out a huge breath in an attempt to empty himself of those feelings.

"It's different now, Cory, I've got a hold on things again," he answered softly.

"Yea, well, I'm not so sure that I do," she murmured.

Something inside of him cracked, like a bottle under too much pressure.

"Not everything is about you," he said, his voice flat.

"Hey," she exclaimed, pushing his shoulder, "I'm the one who had to put you back together again, don't give me that shit!"

"Oh! I'm so sorry for being a burden, Corrine," he lashed back, throwing his hands up in mock surrender, "And what exactly is it that I do for you everyday? Huh? We all know what would happen if I wasn't around!"

The silence was deafening but when it broke he would have given anything to get it back. A soft whimper fell from her mouth and he felt his heart break in half. Why did he have to say that? Why couldn't he have kept his temper? He took a timid step forward and found her shoulder. It amazed him how well he knew her body, he knew her height and volume in perfect contrast to his own, she was like an enhancement of himself.

"Don't."

The word was short and painful, but it hurt so much more when she shoved his arm aside and her footsteps walked quickly away. There was a part of his chest that felt suddenly empty.

"Corrine, I'm sorry," there he was, apologizing again, "Don't be like this?"

"Like what," she rounded on him, her voice yelling and crying at him at the same time, "Bitchy? Needy? Slutty? Broken? Take your pick August, but I don't want to know what you decide this time!"

A car door slammed, an engine ignited and tires squealing eagerly away. He let out an exasperated yell before taking his aggression out on the brick wall behind him. The pain that seared through his knuckles distracted him, but his anger still ran hot. Threading his fingers through his hair, he leaned back against the wall, taking deep, oxygen rich breaths. She was so damn stubborn. And he was so damn tired.

xXx

By the time Annie made it though the glass door, Corrine had already pulled out of the parking lot and was speeding in her haphazard way down the road. In exasperation she sat on the sidewalk, feeling especially exhausted and stranded. Her eyelids slid shut and before she knew it she was half asleep, waking only when a stinging pain slapped across her back.

"Sorry," a familiar voice said. She looked up to see Auggie making his way back to the door, a pair of mirrored aviators hiding his eyes. He sounded upset.

"Haven't we done this before," she smiled tiredly.

"Seems familiar," he grinned, his fingers grazed her back and he took a seat beside her, resting his cane against his shoulder. "What are you doing out here?"

"Watching my ride fade into the distance," she sighed, noticing when he winced.

"Hmm. That may have been my fault."

"Well then I have to thank you."

"For what," he asked, puzzled.

"You saved me from having to get into that car driven by a girl with a death wish," she rolled her eyes and memories of her last scarring ride flashed on the backs of her drooping eyelids.

He was quiet and Annie had the feeling that she'd managed to stick her proverbial foot in her mouth. She looked at him to gage how far she'd shoved it down her throat when she noticed the torn skin of his right hand, the flesh already a nasty shade of purple.

"Oh God, what happened to you," she exclaimed, gingerly taking his hand into hers.

"Got into a fight with the wall," he winced.

"Well, I hate to tell you this, Auggie, but the wall won," she laughed softly. He smiled. "Is everything okay?"

"Eh, I've had worse, I promise this is-"

"That's not what I meant," she interrupted, her voice firm.

She watched as he took her hand in both of his, running his fingertips along the veins that ran on top and up to her short fingernails.

"Corrine and I had a fight," he said finally, "But we're always fighting."

"Really, you guys seem so happy when you're together," she replied incredulously.

"Yea, well, you've seen Tinsel Town but now you've got a backstage pass and I'll tell you something," he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "It ain't pretty."

"What happened to her," she asked.

Annie looped her arm through his and laid her heavy head on his shoulder, allowing her eyes to close for a moment. Just a moment…

"I don't think any one thing made her this way," he sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. "All she asks is that I'm there for her and I keep letting her down."

"You're a good friend, Auggie," she said reassuringly.

"How do you know that?"

"Because if you weren't, you wouldn't be feeling so guilty right now."

To her it was simple, but she could see that guilt held him captive. Guilt by the name of Corrine.