A/N: I'm sorry this took so long! NaNo and a serious case of writers block had me stumped for awhile! I really hope this is okay and worth the wait! It's really a glimpse behind the masks that these charaters wear. So let me know what you think and thanks for sticking with me!

Happy Reading!

Beautiful Disaster

The car door slammed and she took the steps up to her house two at a time. For once she was glad to be at home alone, there would be no one there to witness the stale tears that had dried on her face or the red rims around her dark green eyes, both tell tale signs of an emotion she wasn't used to displaying. Sadness. It was out of character for Corrine to be sad and she didn't want anyone thinking otherwise. The house was dark as she stepped inside and she was plunged into near blindness as she closed the door behind her. That was strange, she never turned the lights out when she left home.

The sound of generically cued laughter and applause drew her towards the living room, the ambient light of the television like the flickering wicks of strange blue candles. As she walked into the living room she was nearly taken aback with surprise, her mouth forming a gentle 'oh'. A woman lounged on the couch that faced the entry way, her black silk robe fanned about her like a waterfall. She lifted her eyes from the television to glance at Corrine, her cold green eyes observing and disapproving.

"You look a mess, Corrine," she said, gesturing to her with a half empty martini glass. "I certainly hope you didn't go out in public like that."

"Mom," Corrine breathed, sitting in an armchair across from her mother, "I thought you weren't going to be home until next week."

"The trial was easier than I first expected," she answered airily as she poured herself another glass of Vodka, the bottle already half empty. "Where were you this morning?"

"I spent the night at the lakeside with some friends," Corrine said in a conversational tone, "And after we ate I- I went for a drive."

This was true, she had driven all the way to the Chicago city limits at precarious speeds in an attempt to get her mind off of the fight she'd had with Auggie. It didn't work.

"How nice," her mother smiled sardonically, "Goodness Corrine, those boots are disgusting, I wish you would get rid of them."

Tears stung at the back of Corrine's eyes but they stopped there, she wouldn't cry in front of her mother. The woman let out a soft laugh and stared at her daughter for several long moments, her glass green eyes as cold as stone. Corrine wondered if her eyes ever looked like that, she certainly hoped not.

"You should go clean up," her mother said, "We're going out to dinner tonight."

"Just you and I," Corrine asked hopefully.

"Of course not, Corrine," she answered, rolling her eyes as if it were obvious. "Don't be dumb. The firm is having a family dinner tonight and you haven't been to the past three, I can't have them thinking my daughter is an absent heathen."

The icy woman stood from the couch and walked up to Corrine, taking the girl's chin between her slim fingers and moving it right to left.

"Have you been crying," she asked in a whisper, her brow furrowing, "You're so ugly when you cry, dear."

"No," Corrine answered flatly, "I haven't been crying."

"Good," she replied, patting her daughters cheek before sauntering to the kitchen, "Be ready in an hour, the driver picks us up by four."

"I love you too, mom," she whispered to herself.

xXx

The sharp pain that crawled up his spine woke him, the pain that whispered of memories he would rather forget. Slim fingers crept out from beneath the covers, searching his nightstand for the orange plastic bottle that held the godlike pills that would wipe away his pain. All of it. Once his fingertips met with the bottle, he snatched it up, easily popping open the child-safe cap. He quickly swallowed two tiny dilaudid and laid in bed until the miniscule drug performed its dirty deed. Almost instantly his limbs seemed to loosen and become separate entities from his body, the pain in his back sliding away as though it never existed.

Groggily he threw his legs over the side of his bed, staying himself as blood rushed from his head to his heart and limbs, carrying the potent pain meds with it. He ran his hands over his face and noticed that the skin of his right hand was stiff and sore, the smell of dried blood making him crinkle his nose. Through his dilaudid hazed mind he could faintly hear Corrine yelling at him, her voice near tears. Corrine never cried.

He stood from his bed and was forced to steady himself on the bedpost, the dilaudid making him woozy as it always did. The drug made him feel like he was walking on water with waves tossing him back and forth but it was better than pushing through the pain in his back, or what was worse, the pain in his chest that constricted his heart.

After a long, steaming hot shower and a much needed change of clothes, he descended the stairs. The dilaudid making the descent more precarious than usual. Each step felt like he was about to plummet off a cliff and he clung to the railing for dear life.

"August, you're up," his mother said, her voice seeming to echo as he reached the landing, "Its almost time for dinner!"

He smiled and ran his fingers through his damp hair as his brain tried to process what his mother had said to him. Everything felt as though it was moving in slow motion and he began to wonder if just one dilaudid would have done the trick.

"Mm," he murmured, "Good, I'm starving."

"Julia," his father's deep bellow came from the kitchen, "I don't think I'm doing this right and unless you want me to order pizza for dinner, you had better get in here!"

"Oh dear," she muttered, hurrying into the other room. "Mica, I can't leave you alone for a moment!"

Auggie closed his eyes as he followed his mother's footsteps, surprised when he collided with the kitchen island. Had he miscounted? Had he counted at all? For a moment he froze, hoping that no one had noticed his missteps and when he didn't receive a reaction he took a seat on a barstool, laying his head on the countertop.

"You see," his mother was saying, "This is why I cook and you watch football!"

"That sounds just fine to me, Julia."

There was a smack of lips and a small bit of low laughter and, were he not swimming in his own head, Auggie would have told them to get a room.

"Well, good evening, son," his father said from across island, "Welcome back to the land of the living!"

Without lifting his head, he gave his dad a uncoordinated wave and received a bellow of laughter in return. The sound of a barstool being dragged across the linoleum made him look up, a useless and involuntary reaction, and the smell of Old Spice and fresh grass hit his nostrils. He hadn't heard Jamie walk up and decided that the younger boy was wearing socks.

"Dude," Jamie said in his ever-casual tone, "What'd you do to your hand?"

"Hmm. Oh, I must've scraped it against the wall or something this morning on my way back inside Waffle House," he lied nonchalantly, hoping his mother hadn't overheard the conversation. If only.

"Oh August," she said immediately, "That looks awful, were you alone?"

His mother gingerly took his hand and pulled it closer to her across the island, her spry fingers rubbing soothing circles in the top of his hand.

"Yea?"

"And why wasn't Jamie with you?"

"Because he's not my guide dog, mom," he grumbled, pulling his hand away from her grasp. "I'm a big boy now, I can walk places by myself."

"Oh can you," she disagreed and he knew that her hands would be on her hips, her light green eyes wide and disapproving and her cheeks rapidly flushing, "Well you've certainly proven that to us, August. You have to be more responsible. You can NOT be wandering about by yourself. You're going to get hurt."

His anger reared on its hind legs and he wanted to lash out at her for saying something so awful, but he didn't. Instead he bit his lip and choked down the words he wanted to stab her with. He'd hurt enough people this weekend and he couldn't hurt anymore, no matter how badly they wounded him.

"Jesus, mom," Jamie said for him, "Give him a break. I mean, I broke my arm because I fell off a curb, no one made a big deal over that. It's just a scrape."

"It's not just a scrape, Jameson," she yelled back. The sudden outburst clung to the air for what felt like hours and the room grew so quiet that Auggie could actually hear the florescent light above the windowsill buzzing. "It's so much more than that."

The way she spoke made Auggie want to cry, sometimes she spoke so softly and reverently that it was like she was mourning the loss of him. He wanted to yell at her that he was still alive, that he had survived and he was living and okay and that she should be too! But it wouldn't matter, she wouldn't accept that. Her baby was irreparably broken.

Without another word he stood from his seat and fled the kitchen, his shoulder smacking the entryway on the way out. In the foyer, he slipped on his shoes and grabbed his coat and his cane and walked out the front door with no destination and no plans to return that night. It was colder than it had been the night before, the icy chill nipping mercilessly at his flesh. Once he descended the porch steps, he zipped up his heavy coat and unfolded his cane, tapping it twice against the sidewalk to be sure the joints were in place, and he set off.

xXx

With reverence, she pulled the picture frame out of the moving box and blushed when his blue eyes met with hers. She couldn't help but smile when she looked at the picture, just her and Ben on a California beach. God, she missed him. Her heart constricted when she thought about the way he used to touch her, the way his lips felt against her skin. Her vision suddenly blurred, tears filling her eyes. She gingerly placed the picture frame on her bedside table and blinked back her tears. It was useless feeling these things for a boy who left her behind.

She turned to the window and stared around the neighborhood, it was a quaint place, very unlike where she lived in California. But she was grateful for that difference, it made it easier to separate this place from one of the other dozens of places she'd already lived. She had to admit, for her first week it had been damn good. Annie was a friendly person but the people here were a breath of fresh air compared to what she faced on her first week in Cali. The people here were welcoming and laid-back, in Cali they were generic clones of one another.

It was 5pm and the colors of dusk dusted across the sky, Annie smiled. What was she doing indoors when there was still daylight outside? It was time for some exploration.

She walked for nearly an hour before she came across a park, with swings and slides and an acre of green grass for picnicking. Already she could imagine herself sitting on a red and white checked blanket with sparkling red grape juice and thinly sliced meats. Just her and-

"Auggie?"

He was sitting on a bench, twisting his cane between his hands. He looked up when she called his name, his brown eyes wide with curiosity. But there was something about them that wasn't right. They were rimmed red and she could see tear stains gleaming on his cheeks. The smile on her face faded and she was at a loss of what to do.

"Hey, Annie," he smiled, quickly wiping away what was left of his tears. "What are you doing out here?"

"I thought I would take a walk and explore a little bit," she hesitated for a moment, "What about you?"

"Eh, I just had to get away from my house," he smiled sadly, "But I needed some exercise anyways, I slept all day."

"Oh so did I," she laughed, "As soon as you and Jamie dropped me off, I fell into my bed, jeans and all!"

"Same here," he grinned, leaning back on the bench.

She looked around for another familiar face, Jamie, Corrine, or even Stu perhaps. But there was no one. It was strange to her that he would be by himself because he seemed to be the kind of person that people liked to be around. She certainly did. An embarrassing thought hit her then, what if he had wanted some alone time and she was interrupted, her mother always told her not to be a bother.

"Are you here by yourself," she asked casually, her honey colored eyes still looking for the younger Anderson. Auggie sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am," he sounded offended and Annie couldn't help but blush violently. "You know, I have worked so hard to be as independent as I am and it's still not good enough. I'm still just as blind to everyone as I was before but that's not true and you people have no idea."

His voice was forced calm and his warm brown eyes were on fire, his usually smiling features disbelieving and annoyed. Annie opened her mouth to speak but before she could get out a word he stood to his feet and tapped his way back to the sidewalk.

"Auggie wait," she finally said, her shock finally wearing off.

With quick steps she got in front of him to make him stop, his cane smacking her ankle. She hissed in pain and he rolled his eyes at her persistence but her efforts weren't in vain and he stopped where he was, pulling his cane up beside him.

"That's not what I meant," she said quickly, her fingers vigorously rubbing at the red splotch on her foot. "I just- I've never really seen you without friends around, that's all."

The words left her mouth in a rush and she watched him anxiously for a reaction, biting her lip in hopes that he wasn't truly angry with her. His shoulders dropped a bit, the tension in them easing away and a red blush crawled up his neck and into his ears. She let out a breath of relief.

"I'm sorry, Annie," he sighed, "It's just not been a very good day, I- I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"Oh, don't worry about it," she smiled. Her stomach growled something terrible and she realized that she hadn't eaten breakfast that morning. Soft laughter caught her attention and she looked up to see Auggie was smiling again. "Oh, shut up."

"You hungry," he asked, still chuckling.

"Ravishing," she admitted, rubbing her tummy sympathetically.

"I tell you what," he grinned, "There's a really good pizza place just down the road from here, how about we go get a slice?"

"Ugh, I would owe you my soul," she moaned as they fell into step together. She looped her arm with his and tucked into him for warmth, watching as his cane tapped rhythmically back and forth and back and forth.

"Hmm. Souls are a bit old fashioned," he said thoughtfully, "What else you got?"

"My first born son?"

"I don't do diapers," he wrinkled his nose and she giggled.

"I know, I'll bring you cookies."

"Now, Anne Walker, you are speaking my language."

xXx

She shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her peacoat, her heels clicking obnoxiously on the sidewalk. The night was icy cold, the darkness thick and damp, but she didn't care, she needed to walk to clear her head. Her face was steely and her mouth set in anger. Her mother had lied to her, she hadn't cared about dinner, she just wanted to prance about among her colleagues with her new boy-toy on her arm. It was disgusting, the guy was young enough to be the woman's son.

The way she told Corrine to tell the driver she would be riding home with Desmond and that Corrine shouldn't 'wait up' made her want to scream. She left the high class restaurant in a hurry, desperate to get away from everything that she hated so much, the people, the show, the lies, the back stabbing. She couldn't stand it, it was like high school on steroids.

All she needed was a hot bath and a trip to her best friend's house and-

She glanced across the street to see Roma's Pizza alight with life and in the window like some mocking display, sat her best friend sitting with none other than Anne Walker. It felt as though the universe had punched her in the chest, telling her that she couldn't have the one thing in her life that kept her from tearing to ribbons. Corrine realized then that she lived off of others, depending on them to fix her because she didn't know how to fix herself. So it was true then, everything he'd said, she was just a disaster with a beautiful shell.