AN: Okay, so I just noticed that in the first chapter at some point I must have deleted the part where Dakota jumps in front of the bullet that Tate had meant for Cara. I edited that there, oops.

So since the last few chapters were so intense and I can't see myself having Dakota find out for a good while yet because I have so many more ideas and we have a good build up going here, I decided to have this one be intense towards the end but not quite as dramatic. That's also because I need your opinions on something:

Do you guys feel like if next chapter Tate and Dakota did have some kind of heated argument again or something along those lines, there would be too much drama? Because I wanna make every chapter count and I feel like the really intense fights they seem to find themselves in are the most fun to write. I also think it's just realistic that they're going to argue, too. So yeah, review please bc it means the world to me and please PM any ideas, requests, comments or questions to me :)

The quote from the song 'Spanish Sahara' by Foals is going to be significant later in the story and the band own the song and lyrics, not me. You should definitely go listen to it bc it's amazing and relates to ahs a lot (Murder House and my FF).

I'm so thankful to all of my beautiful reviewers and readers ilysm!

Cloudcity'sBookworm: Thankyou so much for another lovely review! I love how you picked out two lines you really liked, that makes me so happy that they stood out to you :) I'm going to hold off on Dakota finding out about Tate for as long as I can without you guys getting bored. I'm going to continue including some of Tate's POV, too. I included a little more daddy daughter stuff in this chapter towards the end haha, I'm so glad you liked that part! There's more exciting stuff I have planned and this is by no means a 'filler' chapter but I have more dramatic ideas for the next few :)

Guest: Thankyou very much, that means a lot!

ZeldaZonkk: That review honestly made me so happy, I love how you have a favourite line from my story, and I really enjoyed writing that intense argument they had, there's more where it came from :) Would you like another one of those next chapter (obviously about a different subject etc)? I really wanna write one but I don't want to have too much going on if you guys get sick off all the drama haha. No I completely understand what you mean, I use that word to describe so many FFs and books too. When I first watched Murder House I was just like "wow this is intense" and I just kept thinking "ah it's getting more and more intense." So yeah, I love that word aha. Your comments about this chapter and my story in general were so sweet and inspiring, thankyou so much!

Okay so this has been long enough, sorry I'm rambling aha, enjoy this chapter.

Dakota woke to her alarm ringing in that excessively loud, irritating way that it always did. But this morning was different... She felt arms wrapped around her. He had stayed with her like he said he would, and he had kept the nightmares away, too.

She wanted to lie there with him for an eternity, because he just made her so damn happy in a way that nobody else ever could. Despite all the shit that had happened between them since they had met, which wasn't that long ago; this moment was perfect. She knew there would be more disputes and more tears, because they both had a dark side that the other had to deal with; but right now, that didn't seem to matter.

Dakota sighed, knowing that she'd have to force herself up and go to school, where she'd have to cope with more crap from Sophia and either ignore or face the awkwardness between her and Cameron.

Cameron. God, today would be unbearable. She really didn't want to lead him on. He was a nice guy, but he was also a little too forward and he didn't understand her like Tate did.

"I have to go to school, I really don't want to, but-"

"Stay here," he murmured, pulling her closer when she tried to sit up. "You can miss one day, right?"

She considered it for a few seconds. "Not today, Tate, I really can't," she said it firmly and sat up, this time he didn't try and stop her.

"Why?" Tate asked, irritation in his tone. "You miss him already?"

"What?" Dakota asked in confusion, standing up to pick an outfit from her wardrobe. "Oh, you mean Cameron...? God, no," she laughed, failing to notice how jealous he sounded. Usually she picked up on these things, but she was focused on getting herself ready.

He propped himself up on his elbow. "So you're not going to be talking to him again?"

Dakota decided on blue jeans and a v neck, she didn't have time to think her outfit through as much as she usually did. In fact, she usually planned ahead, but last night's events hadn't allowed that.

"No," she said, turning back to him and shutting her wardrobe doors. "I have you, I don't need anybody else. You don't need to hate him, Tate. There's only you."

He looked relieved, but something was still bothering him. She didn't have time to decode it, though, she'd get to the bottom of it later.

"You mean it?" Tate asked, sitting up. It was as if he was waiting for her to laugh and say no, of course she didn't mean it.

She smiled at him and nodded. "'Course I do. Come by after school?"

He nodded and left her to change, sighing. She had no idea that he would be waiting all day for her to come home with little else to do, but he had to keep it that way. The way Tate saw it, he was loving her on borrowed time, or she was loving him on borrowed time, because when she found out... She could never love him again.

"Cameron told me about your date," Sasha sighed.

"It wasn't a date-"

"Well he said you told him that it was."

Dakota rolled her eyes. "If you like him so damn much then why don't you date him?"

"Because he likes you, Dakota, and you're messing him around. It's not fair."

"Why? Because I didn't have sex with him after knowing him for like a day?" Dakota snapped. "Is that honestly what this is about?"

Sasha frowned. "No, it's just... Sometimes I wonder if you avoid happiness, Dakota. And you deserve it. He could make you happy."

"Bullshit, Sasha," Dakota was trying to control her rapidly building anger so she didn't make a scene in the cafeteria. "I want to be happy more than you'd ever know, I just don't want Cameron."

"Whatever," Sasha sighed, and they didn't say another word to eachother all day.

Thankfully she only had one class with Cameron, and Sasha wasn't in it. Geography.

She had been avoiding him all day, but it was the last period and she couldn't exactly ignore him if he tried to talk to her, though she wished she could.

She pretended not to notice when he say beside her and hid her face behind a curtain of golden blonde-brown hair. The girl who usually sat there would soon walk in and she'd hopefully have an issue with it so Dakota didn't have to discuss their 'date.' She'd called it that, and she was beginning to realise how many stupid things she said and did when Tate wasn't around; and even when he was. Maybe she was just a stupid girl, maybe that was it.

"You've been avoiding me," he said. "Why?"

She turned to him, deciding to soften the blow of her words by complimenting him first.

"I really had a lovely night with you, the food was great, the conversation was great, you're great. But I can't date you, Cameron. There's too much going on in my life right now, I'm sorry."

Cameron just nodded, he didn't seem hurt at all. "Sure, but can we at least be friends?"

Dakota offered him a small smile. "Of course we can."

The girl that usually sat there walked in at that point, and she didn't seem to care because, well, it was Cameron. Girls practically drooled over him.

"Hey, you can have your seat back," he stood up. "Sorry about that."

Dakota wasn't expecting that, but it didn't matter to her either way.

She just hoped he was as unaffected by her honesty as he seemed to be...

Tate watched his mother walk into Dakota's house and rolled his eyes. He really didn't want to deal with her today, or any day, for that matter.

Moira was so submissive with her, but she was a kind woman and Tate didn't particularly like seeing Constance belittle her the way that she did.

"What do you think you're doing here?" She asked as Constance strolled in. "Mrs. Myers is on an outing and-"

"I have to speak with my son," she replied dismissively, and Moira went back to her work with a frown upon her worn face.

"Tate?" She called from Dakota's room. "Tate, we have to talk, honey."

Tate sighed, the woman disgusted him, but he had nothing better to do and wanted to know what the hell she thought she was doing snooping around Dakota's room.

"Then talk," he appeared behind her, a scowl upon his face. "But I want you out of her room."

He felt the urge to laugh when she jumped slightly in surprise. But then she turned and the smile on her face was sickening. She could never appreciate him when he was alive, but now that he was dead, she looked at him like he was some kind of God. A holy being. And both of them knew that Tate was quite the opposite.

"You scared me," she lifted her hand to touch his face, but he flinched away from her touch like it was poisonous, because to him, and the rest of her children- it was. Constance was poison to everyone she met, really, but especially to her own offspring. That was her speciality- destroying people.

She sighed and walked over to Dakota's bed and bent down, reaching underneath it.

He was about to to demand that she leave, until she pulled out a scrapbook.

"How did you know it would be there?" He couldn't help himself from asking, he was just curious.

"People hide their own demons under their beds where they thought the monsters were as children," she turned to him, opening it up. "Dakota's are memories. Certain ones. The ones involving you, mostly."

He glared at her, snatching it from her hands. He looked down at the first page and guilt washed over his features. It wasn't by any means remorse, but it was definitely guilt.

There were several photographs of Dakota and Cara filling up the page. Two smiling kids together, and then they were teenagers smiling together in a different way. There was pain behind both of their flawless exteriors, especially Dakota's. Tate wouldn't say Cara was perfect by any means, in his eyes nobody was anything compared to Dakota, but she was polished and pretty.

"She's going to find out soon enough," Constance said, standing beside him to see the pictures, though she was being careful not to get too close. "And when she does, she'll never talk to you again. You're hurting yourself and the poor girl more and more everyday, you know."

Tate closed the book with a frown.

"She's very pretty, I'll give you that, and she's a lovely girl, though I can tell she's damaged," she glanced at the pills still lying on the floor from when he'd threw them down last night. "But she's no fool, either, and she'll soon see you for what you are."

Tate fought the urge to strangle the woman right then and there. She had made him this way, and she was acting all high and mighty about it like she was enlightening him on something he was completely oblivious to.

"You could have had her, you know," she went on. "Before you decided to shoot her-"

"I didn't decide to shoot her, I was going to let her live, but she jumped in front of the goddamn bullet for her friend and-"

"God, will you listen to yourself?!" Constance brought her hand to her forehead and rubbed it in frustration. "I was beginning to think that she was good for you, but she's bringing out that darkness in you more than I ever did."

"Don't talk about her like that," he growled. "Dakota is the only light I've ever known, and I won't let you-"

"I'm not going to tell her, Tate," Constance sighed. "I'll let you have your happiness, even if it's short lived and you're going to feel worse than you ever did when she leaves you."

"But she told me-"

"It doesn't matter what she told you, she'll leave you in the end. They always do."

With that, Constance left him standing alone like the naive, confused child he truly was, in his times of denial. He knew it was inevitable. Dakota would never want to look at him again when she knew. When she remembered. But he was under the illusion that if she fell hard for him enough, then maybe, just maybe, she'd forgive him. If she loved him enough, she had to. Didn't she?

The longer she loved him, the more he'd convince himself that she always would and always could.

It was ironic, really. She was telling him with such conviction that everybody leaves, and proceeded to leave him. Walk away like she hadn't just tore his dreams apart. But, again, that's what Constance's speciality was- destroying people. Until they were dead, and even then.

Dakota came home to an empty house. Or she thought it was, until Moira greeted her.

"I hope you had a productive day at school," she said warmly. "Your parents should soon be home, your mother is out grocery shopping and your father is out on a rather lengthy jog."

Dakota frowned. He enjoyed long jogs, but in the morning, not at this time. Could he really be cheating again?

"If you're having company over, I can show myself out," Moira added when Dakota didn't reply."

"I hope you had a lovely day, Moira," she smiled after a second. "And no, no, it's just Tate. You don't need to do that."

She couldn't help but notice how Moira's expression turned sour when she said his name.

"Dakota," she began, walking back into the kitchen, followed by Dakota. "May I speak candidly with you?"

She nodded.

"I don't think that boy is a positive thing for you," Moira said with conviction. "And I hope he's never been violent towards you, because all I ever seem to hear is him raising his voice to you and if he dared to raise his hand-"

"No, he would never hurt me, Moira," Dakota cut in, nothing how intense Moira's tone and expression was getting.

"...I hate to intrude but the walls here are just paper thin," she returned to her calm, soft demeanour. "I won't notify your father, it's not by business or duty to, but please be careful, child. You're too gentle and delicate for someone like him."

Towards the end of her last sentence, she seemed to get... Sensitive, again. Almost angry, but not quite.

Tate was listening to the whole conversation, and Moira was perfectly aware. He stood beside Dakota looking irritated, though Moira payed him no attention.

"Thank you for your concern, Moira," Dakota turned to answer the door, which Tate had just rung the doorbell to before Moira tried to give anything serious away. "But I'm happy with Tate."

She looked through the peep-hole and opened the door with a bright smile on her face. "Hey."

"Hey," he took a step inside and embraced her in a tight hug.

When he held her like that it was like all of her broken pieces were connecting back together, only for her to come undone whenever he left.

"You wanna sit upstairs?" She asked, turning to the steps leading to upstairs.

"I'd follow you anywhere, Dakota," he smiled.

She laughed, just out of happiness, and held her hand out to him. He was her sanctuary when the world was closing in on her.

He took her hand tightly and intertwined their fingers.

Moira watched with a frown, but busied herself with housework as she usually did.

He sat on the floor with his legs folded in a basket, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

She had put the song "Dakota" by the Stereophonics on her iPod, which was hooked up to speakers. It was fairly low, so they could easily hear the words but it wouldn't drown their own out.

"I can see why they named that song after you," he glanced down at her.

"You've heard it before?"

"Yeah. I've liked it since I first heard it, there was something special about it. I finally know what it was. You're beautiful, you're like a storm, Dakota. A beautiful, tragic storm."

"Tragic?" She asked, perplexed.

"You hurt yourself," he murmured. "I need you to promise me that you won't ever do it again. Someone like you doesn't deserve scars on your skin, nobody does, but you... You're too goddamn special for all of that blood, all of that pain. You're too special."

Dakota lifted her head from his shoulder for a second to look him in the eye. "I promise, as long as you're here, I won't ever do it again."

"I'll always be here," he put his arm around her shoulders and held her close, like there was a dangerous wind about to pull her out of his reach.

The next song that came on was "Spanish Sahara" by Foals. Tate had never heard it, but there was something about it... It sounded like him and Dakota.

"I'm the fury in your head. I'm the fury in your bed. I'm the ghost at the back of your head."

He knew it would only be so long until their perfect moment was ruined. Any moment with her was perfect, even the ones when they were screaming at eachother. Any time spent with her sent Tate into this third space, this light place. This better place.

They heard footsteps from downstairs approaching at a rapid pace, and Tate scrambled underneath her bed, though he knew he didn't have to, and if she wasn't looking, he wouldn't have bothered.

"Kota, it's your Grandma," Her dad opened her room door. His eyes were slightly puffy and there were red patches under his eyes where he had rubbed his tears away. "It's time to go and say goodbye to her, honey. I'm so sorry."

"But mom said I'd have time to visit and-" she began, standing up and raking a hand through her hair. Tears were forming in her eyes already.

"I know, I know, Kota, but our time ran out quicker than it should have..." He walked over to her and took her gently by the arm. "Your mom is very upset right now and we need to be strong for her, okay? Can you do that, honey?"

She blinked back tears and nodded.

They left the house quickly, and even forgot to turn her iPod off. Tate listened to Spanish Sahara on repeat, beginning to feel numb again now that she wasn't there to make him feel something. The song conjured up all kinds of complicated emotions within him, and it blocked out the dangerous thoughts that were lurking around in his head. He had to be good for her. He had to he kind, and patient, and thoughtful. He had to be enough for Dakota.

"So, did you see much of Cameron today?" Her dad asked after a few silent moments in the car.

"I don't want to date him, dad," she sighed, staring out of the window.

"Did he hurt you?" Her dad asked in that voice that just screamed 'protective dad'. She almost liked it when he got this way, it made her feel appreciated and important.

"No, I just think his deep, thoughtful rich kid act is confusing and I don't have the time for a boy like Cameron," Dakota replied, and her dad nodded.

"He probably wears fake Calvin Kleins', anyway," her dad chuckled. "You could do better that him, you know that, right?"

She found herself giggling like she used to as a little kid when he made a good joke like that. When she'd laugh until her stomach hurt. That didn't happen much anymore, so she cherished laughing when she could.

"I know," she nodded with a genuine smile.

She'd almost forgotten where they were going with the lightheartedness of their conversation during the fifteen minute car ride.

"Are you gonna keep seeing Tate?" She found herself asking as soon as the question appeared in her head.

Dakota's dad frowned. "I'm considering having him back at the house, as long as he keeps away from you. He's a thoughtful kid, and I think he's a good person at heart with a lot of love to give... But not to you. Tate is... A troubled boy, and he has a lot of pain that he isn't dealing with. He's not hopeless, we were getting somewhere. I just wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I didn't at least preserve with him a little longer until we get a breakthrough, you know?"

Dakota nodded, although she didn't know. She didn't know at all.

To her, Tate's words were both poison and medicine. But either way, she'd listen to them all day if she could.

When they reached the hospital doors, Dakota found her chest getting tight. The last time she'd been here, her parents had been told she wouldn't make it through the night, that she almost bled out on the table. Now, she was going to say her last words to her sick, suffering Grandma, who would be dead before the day was done.

Her dad took her cold hand in his warm one. "No matter what happens, you need to remember that Grandma loves you, and so does mom. Okay?"

Dakota nodded, taking a deep breathe.

The September air was crisp and the California sun bathed her in it's light and warmth, but inside; she just felt so cold.

Dakota walked into her Grandma's room to find her mom sobbing like she'd never sobbed before and her Grandma almost unrecognisable. Her fingers were clubbed and misshapen, she was so thin and her face looked gaunt and weary. It used to be bright and dewy. She used to be so full of life, but death touched everyone...

She ran up to her mom and hugged her tightly, sobbing into her shoulder.

"I don't want my beautiful girls to cry over me," her Grandma said in a thin voice. "You, too, Ben, come on over here."

Her dad had silent tears rolling down his cheeks. He had grown close to Grandma. Dakota's mom and her own mom were extremely close, they always had been; but she didn't know about Hayden. She did, however, know about the miscarriage and shooting.

Her mom didn't want her mother to die resenting Dakota's dad, so she had never told her. The shooting had been on the news globally, so there was no hiding that. She had even visited Dakota when she got out of surgery, despite her declining health. And the miscarriage was just something that daughters had to tell their mothers about... Or at least she assumed it was, maybe her mom just needed someone to lean on other than her husband who cried more than her, which meant he had been crying a hell of a lot.

Dakota eventually became numb to the subject. She figured she'd just be the strong one since nobody else seemed to be up for it. But sometimes, she pictured herself with a baby brother or sister, and she thought about holding their tiny hand and being proud of them. Watching them grow. Protecting them. Teaching them how to love themselves and never cut their beautiful skin open or take too many pills.

The family sat together and shared memories and laughs for half an hour, then her parents both waited outside so Dakota could have time with her Grandma.

"My beautiful Grandbaby, I'm so thankful I got to see what a beautiful young woman you've become," she squeezed Dakota's hand tightly, but gently. "Oh, Dakota. You made me so proud..."

"You made me so proud too, Grandma," she replied tearfully, trying to keep controlled and not break down.

"I remember when you were lying there with all these tubes connected to you, getting blood transfusions and IVs, and you just looked so pale and small... But you were still so beautiful. You were my little fighter, and I'm sorry I can't fight another day for you..."

"Grandma, no-"

Her heart monitor began to rapidly beep and just before Dakota's mom and dad burst in, followed by nurses that knew the poor woman could not be saved because nobody could cheat death apart from Dakota, apparently, he Grandma pulled her close and tightened her grip on her hand and wrist.

"The devil has your heart, and he is tainting your beautiful soul."