I am going to worn you guys, this is filled with angst. And once again, I had had no idea where this was going to go, but where it did was the farthest thing from my mind, but oh well.

Enjoy! Thanks once again to my hubby is no edward for editing this.

Chapter 12 – Truth

I rested my cheek to hers and slowly rocked her in my arms again. Her breathing began to even out as she fell asleep. I reached up to pull her arms from my neck, but she stiffened and held tighter to me. So I laid back on the bed and stroked her hair until she relaxed and let go of my neck on her own. I watched her sleep for a bit, seeing the calm and tranquil expression make her black eye and fat lip a stark contrast on her young and innocent face.

"Thank you."

I glanced up at Wyatt, his emotions so pure I felt clean after what I had felt before. "Wyatt, you need to talk to me. Now."

~Mac's POV~

Wyatt's emotions were off the hook. They were everywhere. Sadness, anger, hatred, pain, love, it all caused a disgusting scent to fill the air, my nose twitching with the effort to hold the bile in my throat. I wanted to go up to him and pull him into my arms, but I figured he would want some space. He started pacing back and forth, making sure the creaks of the floorboards weren't loud enough to wake Hailey who I was assuming was his sister by that point.

I watched every emotion war across his face. And it was breaking my resolve to remain motionless, to wait for him to be ready to tell me on his own. Though I wanted to know, no, needed to know what the hell was going on, his emotions and the faces he was creating made me want to just hold him close and tell him that he didn't have to let me in on the big secret. That it was okay and I would never bring it up again. But I had already told him my own personal demons. He needed to hold his end of the relationship bargain that we had.

Wyatt began mumbling beneath his breath so quietly that even with my multiplied hearing, his words were escaping me. They were all gibberish, something about money, bruises, pain, love, trust. The words bitch and submissive came up a lot as well. At last, he stopped abruptly and turned to me. Even though I could feel his emotions pooling in the pit of my stomach, Wyatt's eyes were expressive enough that without my power, I would still be able to feel the pain behind this secret I almost didn't want to know about anymore.

"Wyatt," I choked, tears threatening to drop down my now pale and bloodless cheeks, falling on my sweatshirt, staining the black fabric in the salty water. I tried to breathe but his emotions were slashing a hole into my heart, a searing pain that left me winded and gasping for air, trying to drag the oxygen into my deprived lungs.

I knew better then this. I was taught better then this. I was letting his emotions control me, and there was only one outcome when this happened. When I was lost in a pool of emptiness, losing all sense of reality, focusing on someone else so entirely that I was caught in a series of chain reactions from which I didn't remember half the time. I closed my eyes and concentrated deeply. I closed myself off to Wyatt so I could 'seek'. Where I would let my powers snake out of me, trying to find a certain emotion to feed into myself.

On the bed behind me, Hailey slept soundly and from where she was laying in the ignorant bliss of a dream, I latched onto her. She was emitting glee and reminding me of when I was little and went to the playground. All around me had been happy children and I fed off it, bringing myself under control before I could allow the evilness of Wyatt's feelings to drag me further into unconsciousness.

I felt all my tension ease and I let my shoulders slump forward as I breathed in the smell of lavender, the smell of a girl having fun in a dream. I started to slowly restart my body after a few seconds of the calming drug, my nose blissful from being relieved of the acidic smell and being replaced with a soothing aroma that made me suddenly tired. So I opened my eyes and took a deep, relaxed breath.

Wyatt was so close, his nose was an inch away from mine. I made sure I no longer felt his emotions, but it took a great deal of focus on my part. His eyes, like a door to his heart, were filled with concern. His knees were on either side of my legs, his hands on my upper shoulders and I realized he was shaking me. I gasped.

"Are you okay?" he demanded, moving a hand to my neck, rubbing in comforting circles over my jugular with his thumb. "What happened?"

"You need to talk to me," I whispered. "You need to tell me what is wrong."

Wyatt stared at me for a few minutes, an inner debate going on inside him. He finally glanced over at Hailey and sighed heavily. He stood up and grabbed my hand to yank me up with him into a standing position. He picked up a thick winter coat from the floor and slipped his feet into some winter boots lined with fake fur.

He motioned with his hand for me to follow with him and I did. He slowly opened the window and let me go through first before doing the same and closing it behind us. Wyatt took a deep breath and I heard his heart pumping like wild inside his sternum as he pulled me into his arms and sat down on the scratchy roof with me, leaning against the fading yellow paneling of his house.

I leaned into him, still letting my power feed off of Hailey's dream. I looked up at Wyatt whose eyes were far away. "Ducky," I whispered, "you know that you can tell me anything, right? Because you can. I'm here for you. I'm always here for you."

He didn't even look at me as he spoke. "I was three the first time it happened. She was never home, my mother, always working. She was fired from her job at the store in the mall where they sold shoes. After a week or so, she got a new job. And it changed her in ways I don't think anyone could've thought possible."

I stared at him, trying to even my heartbeats and my breaths as I started to feel panicky, as if I was watching a scary movie as he laughed bitterly, continuing to stare into the line of trees in front of his home. Letting himself get lost in his memories.

"She worked nights at that job. So again, I never saw her. But when I did, she was always mean, rude, and cranky. My father would look at her the wrong way and she would explode. When I would tell her I loved her like I did all the time before, she would laugh and spit in my face like I didn't matter. Soon, she stopped coming home from work until ten a.m. instead of four. I remember the day she found out she was pregnant.

"I was in the living room watching re-runs of Sesame Street when she came in babbling about days. She glanced up at the calendar on the wall and growled. She glanced at me when I asked what was wrong. And the hatred in her eyes scared me. She was always so angry. I used to feel comfortable around her as a toddler, a baby. But it was in that moment I truly became afraid of my mother. She walked up to me and slapped me hard across the face, her eyes blazing fire at me. I screamed. And she grabbed a hold of my t-shirt, pulling me off the ground to shake me, trying to get me to shut up but it made me cry, wanting her to just let go of me. When I didn't stop, she dropped me to the floor and grabbed her keys, practically running out of the house.

"I remember laying on the carpet, crying until I began vomiting. That was when my father came back from the grocery store. He came in and froze when he saw me. Asked what was wrong. And I told him that it was mommy. That she did this to me." Wyatt paused and I noticed that he was shaking. I wrapped my arms around him as tears slowly fell down my cheeks, telling him silently to keep going. "You know what he said? Nothing. He just laughed and checked my temperature like I had the flu or something, and cleaned up the mess I had made. So I ran up stairs, slammed my door and climbed into bed to cry some more.

"She didn't come home until a few days later. Dad still hadn't really believed what I had told him. But he was growing suspicious. When she came home, I sat at the top of the stairs and listened to their fight."

I wanted to kill her, to take away her right to house her children under her roof. I needed to protect him, and I felt protectiveness over his sister as well. I had to save him. I was going to save him from this life he was forced to live.

~Wyatt's POV~

I could still feel it. Could still hear it as it all flooded back to me. I relayed the scene for Mac as I replayed it in my head.

"Where the hell have you been, Brooke?" my father yelled as she walked in the door.

"None of your fucking business, Craig," she sneered back at him. I heard the front door close and I wrapped my arms around myself.

"None of my business? You're my damn wife!"

"Oh really? Then why is it that I'm pregnant with another man's child, huh?" she screamed at him.

There was silence. I could feel the tears threatening to fall. I was so scared that I was tempted to call 911, but I couldn't move. It was like I was glued to my spot on the carpet of the stairs.

"Your lying," I heard him whisper.

"Ha!" she laughed. "You are so stupid! Why do you think I'm never home, hmm? Would it be because I needed something you couldn't give me? Ha!"

I shivered in my pajamas at her cold, dead laugh and her unfeeling tone of voice, like she was talking to a bum off the street who wanted her money. I let the tears fall down my cheeks and set my chin on my knees which I pulled tightly into my little chest.

"Brooke, how could you?" My dad's voice broke on her name and I cried harder as she responded.

"Because I hate you. You made me someone I didn't want to be. Now I am my own self. You don't control me, you can't. Oh, and I bought a gun today. But I won't tell you where it is. Remember that when you think you can just tell me what to do."

"That was you?" he screeched. "You are the one who hurt Wyatt the other day?!"

She giggled. "I don't know what you are talking about, Craig. You are too old for your own damn good. Well, I just came home to drop off my shit. My lover and I are meeting downtown in a half hour. Don't wait up for me."

I heard the door open and then close. My dad yelled at the top of his lungs and crashes of broken glass sounded all over the house until I heard a sob and the front door open and close.

Silence echoed in the empty house. I stood up and ran to my window over looking the driveway. Both cars were gone. I was alone. Utterly alone. Always so alone...

~Mac's POV~

I wrapped my arms so tightly around him I was sure I was breaking things. But he didn't seem to object to the strength of my arms as he held onto me just as securely. Like I was his lifeline to sanity. I wasn't sure what I was going to do, but I knew I was going to take him home with me one of these days. I really was.

To think of all those days where he had no one to protect him, it broke my heart. It took every ounce of power that I had to not go and kill that bitch that had caused so much turmoil. From Wyatt's story, it sounded as if she was a great mother in the beginning and it made me wonder what she did for a living.

"Wyatt, what did she do for a living, after she got fired?" I asked softly.

"She's a stripper, Mac. And then on some nights she roams streets as a prostitute because she's bored. They corrupted her. You know, she's been to jail for prostitution three times?"

I would've felt bad for her if I had enough in me to care. "Is that how she got pregnant?"

He shook his head, his nose still buried in my hair. "No, she had, well, still has, a lover outside of her work. My father does too. She changed him as well. He never came to save me after he learned she was pregnant and he wasn't the father. So I had to face her constant wrath by myself. When Hailey was born, I took care of her. I might have only been a four year old, but I loved my sister greatly. My father, though he hated Hailey, he also took care of her until I was five and he had taught me enough so he never had to touch her again.

"I vowed every time I held her in my arms, that I would protect her, and that I would never let The Bitch, as I like to call her, lay a finger on my little sister. And until tonight, I have done just that."

"You're eighteen though," I murmured, "why don't you move out and take her with you?"

His eyes grew very angry. "I don't have the money. I was fired last month since basketball always overlapped my work hours, so the boss had to let me go. But it's okay. I got a full ride scholarship to UW to play basketball. And she'll come with me. It's not like The Submissive and The Bitch will ever notice her absence. She makes sure to never be home, to always be somewhere else."

"Wyatt, let me help," I pleaded, turning to sit in his lap, holding his face in my palms as I cried. "Money isn't a problem with me-"

"No," he interrupted, turning his face to let my palms drop, but I didn't let them; I pushed them harder to his skin and made him look at me straight in the eyes.

"What do you mean no? I have money, I can buy you an apartment. Please, I want to help the both of you, just let me-"

"No! I don't need your help! We aren't a fucking charity case! I don't need anything from you! I can do it on my own, can't you see? I've always done things on my own! I'm going to save us; I'm going to help her. After tonight, I'm gonna look for an apartment. I have some money saved up in an account, I can sell some things. I'm going to look for a job. I can do this myself."

He stood up and moved towards the house to open the window. My heart shattered, watching him walk away from me. "Wyatt-"

"Just leave, MacKayla. Please. I need to be with my sister right now. Alone." He went through and slammed the window down onto the sill so hard that it shook.

I fell to my knees, my heart shattering into so many pieces that it felt as though they would cut through my skin, protruding outward until they fell from my chest leaving an empty, black space, nothing to fill the void of where my heart was supposed to be. Nothing could fix this pain.

Why didn't he want to let me help them? I just wanted to help! I only wanted to make all the pain go away for him, for the both of them. To never have to see the pain in their eyes so clearly. I only wanted to give him my love. But he threw it in my face. He threw it so hard I was still feeling the aftershocks and it felt like he had slapped me.

I let go of everything I had been keeping a reign on. I let every emotion in the vicinity around me explode inside me and I bit my lip hard enough to make it bleed as I kept in my scream. I could feel it all, I could feel it all, everything as it all sizzled inside my stomach. I cried as I let the emotions and the horrid smells assail every sense I had, letting it control me, whereas in his bedroom a mere twenty minutes beforehand, I had not allowed.

Mac! Aiden screamed in my head as he jerked awake in his bed, my pain strong enough to bring him to consciousness.

MacKayla Raine Black! We're coming! Ravyn told me as he too jumped out of bed. But I didn't really hear him. All I could hear was the ringing in my ears. All I could see was the blackness seeping into the void of my now empty sternum. I felt my lips turn up into a smile as black dots covered my eyes, my vision now dimming.

Mac, no! Don't!

Please, we're on our way, don't do it! Don't let yourself fall!

Fall? Why would I fall? No, I was going to plummet, plummet into the darkness, to let it engulf me. I could feel my consciousness slipping as I lost my vision completely and I let out a painful, strangled cry as I felt my feet slip from beneath me, felt myself rolling on the roof. I couldn't see anything, I couldn't see anything at all to stop myself!

I choked on air and just as I went under, I knew I did something very, very bad.

~Wyatt's POV~

How dare she do this to me! To think I'm just some fucking charity case to help when ever she felt the need to. I didn't need her help then, and I sure as hell didn't need it now. I have done this all on my own and I refuse to let anyone help me. How dare she think that she could just buy me an apartment and think that everything was fine, that if she were to do that, I would be all happy and giddy and thank her.

Yeah. Fucking. Right. Like I was going to let her control me that way, to have that hang over my head, all "I own your house, you have to do what ever it is I say" bullshit? Not going to ever happen. I can do this on my own; I will do this on my own. It is my promise to Hailey.

I glanced at Hailey as she slept soundly in her bed. The bruises on her wrists were dark purple. Her lip was fat and the middle split open, black, and blue. Her eye was swollen shut and the same color as her lip. I wasn't going to let that happen to her ever again. That bitch who doesn't deserve to be called a mother will never lay a finger on her again. I would make sure of it.

I slammed by body down onto the mattress after I grabbed a beer out of my mini fridge. I cracked it open and chugged it down, empting it before I threw it onto my bedside table. I cracked open a second and downed it in a minute or two. I cracked open a third. I couldn't get the image of Mac's broken face out of my head. I couldn't get the scenes of abuse out of my head.

I drank every last drop of the beer and opened another one however, I didn't drink it. Though I was feeling way too sober, I set the can down on my end table, the beer not helping at all to ease my tension, to ease my pain.

My heart felt as if it had been split open, like my heart was tired of being in my chest. I closed my eyes tightly and let the tears fall down in gushes. I sobbed and turned over to bury my face in my pillow. This was so not happening to me. I was not going to cry like a baby again.

Outside, there was a strangled cry, like someone was in pain and then an extremely loud smack. I stopped crying, my hazy brain trying to identify the reason behind the sound. I figured it was Mac jumping down from the tree.

I stopped trying to care, but I was suddenly worried for her. I tried to remind myself that she was not human, that she could take care of herself, but I was so engulfed by the need to be with her that I got up, threw some thick sweats on over my jeans and slipped my feet into some running shoes.

I leaned down and kissed Hailey's forehead before making my way out of the bedroom, down the stairs and out the front door. I ran a shaky hand threw my knotted hair, trying to calm myself down but every emotion I had was screaming at me. It felt like something bad was about to happen. A tingle ran down my spine, raising all the hair on my body and I felt like a live wire, too energized to even just stand still. It was as if my body was on red alert, checking every nook and cranny for danger.

I shook my head, trying to dispense it of the wired notion and began to jog in a diagonal towards the road. I glanced at the driveway. I froze.

I ran to the driveway and fell to the ground as I stared at the fresh pool of bright red blood. Bright. Red. Blood. Fresh. On my driveway. I thought back to that strangled cry, to the loud smack. And I thought of that wired feeling of dread that had consumed me just mere moments ago.

MacKayla. Mac. Two Socks. She was hurt. MacKayla. Mac. Two Socks. My mind repeated it over and over, like a mantra. MacKayla. Mac. Two Socks.

Before I knew what I was doing, I changed my course of direction, pumping my legs so fast the burn was nearly instantaneous.

~Mac's POV~

I was running. Running far away. I couldn't get away from it though. No matter how hard I thrust my human legs forward, it was still behind me, following me. Fear coursed through my veins, adrenaline driving my body.

The forest trees all became a blur as I sped past them, trying to get as far away from him as possible. The sky was dark, the stars and moon my only source of light though I could see well in the dark and did not need it. The moon was casting shadows over the forest however, making me claustrophobic as I tried to hide from him, but I was thinking every shadow was my enemy.

I tried to phase, but it wouldn't work. I couldn't get my body to let my wolf take over. It was as if my human body refused to allow me a chance to live, refusing to share it's body with another. But I wanted to live, I wanted to survive.

I heard it then, the menacing laugh. A person crying out in pain, like they were on fire.

I skidded to a halt a few feet away from the scene in front of me. Wyatt lay on the ground, blood seeping through his shirt, drenching his hands which were held tightly to his gut. His eyes were unfocused, pain ricocheting from them and bouncing into my heart as it shattered.

Suddenly, I felt a sharp and searing pain in my chest just as I felt a pulling on my hair. My knees gave out, landing me on the soft ground of the forest floor clutching my chest as I felt my ties to Wyatt fall. As if they were threads being cut with scissors.

I looked at Wyatt as the life drained from his eyes, his mouth forming the words I love you… And I no longer felt anything holding me to him as his mouth released his last breath.

The evil laugh sounded again but I was too far gone to care. And I laid down on the soil, in too much pain to even cry.

I felt another pull on my hair. It was comfortable, soothing. I sat up and glanced around. I couldn't see anything but the laugh was still going on somewhere, the sound echoing throught the forest.

"Mac…" a voice suddenly whispered in the night. "Mac, please, wake up. For me."

Wake up? How do you wake up from reality? Do I just pinch myself and I'll be home with Wyatt?

"Please Mac. I need you to wake up," it repeated.

I replayed the voice over in my head, mulling over the reason behind it, who's voice it was.

"I want to!" I yelled up into the sky. "I want this to be just a horrible dream!"

"Mac, I love you. Please. I can't do this alone. I lied. You can help, just please. Don't leave me."

Wyatt… It was Wyatt speaking to me, my imprint, the man who I had just seen die. The man who had broken me. The man I was in love with.

I needed to wake up. I had to. I needed to see his face, his perfect blue eyes, his tawny skin. To smell his sandalwood scent, the cleanness of his clothes. I needed him.

I felt another gentle tug on my hair as something wet and small fell on my cheek. I glanced up to see it raining, abruptly drenched as the downpour made me shiver like I was cold though I wasn't. I felt a pressure on my shoulder and neck. I closed my eyes, willing myself to wake up. Willing myself to live from him. For us.

At first, it was just sounds reaching my ears. A beeping from a machine, a slowly dripping liquid, faint to my sensitive ears. Rustling of fabric, sheets, breathing of many people, too many for my foggy brain to calculate. I heard a quite, dignified sobbing. Someone whispering incoherently as if they were asleep.

"She's waking up," a familiar voice murmured, relief making his voice light.

"Mac, Mac, can you hear me?" Wyatt. Wyatt was asking me a question. I wanted to see him, to answer him, but my throat was burning a fire up my esophagus.

My lids fluttered open little by little, the room so bright that it hurt my eyes and I had to close them for a few seconds before trying again.

"She can hear you," yet another familiar voice said, a smile tilting the sadness in his tone to sheer relief.

Finally, after what seemed like a million years, my eyes peeled open. I was in a hospital bed, though I was not in a hospital. The walls were painted white with a blue hue hardly noticeable to any human eye. The door that connected this room to Carlisle's study was closed and pictures of scenery adorned the sheetrock, happy pictures of lilies and daisy's. Creeks and mountains in the summer with flowers and deer. Like the pictures were supposed to make the resident in Carlisle's personal hospital room giddy.

The first person I saw was Wyatt. My gauzed hand was wrapped securely in his hand, his face no longer buried in my neck but his tears were still there, dampening my neck. His free hand was running through my hair… wait, no, it wasn't. My head was covered in gauze, like my hand. I whimpered, praying that my hair was still there. Wyatt's eyes were trained on me the entire time, watching me, his eyes red and puffy. He licked his lips and it caused me to forget the burn in my throat as I stared at him, as everyone else in the room slipping away again.

"Mac…" His voice was raspy and raw from crying and he rested our forehead together, his nose gentley rubbing mine.

A sob echoed around the small room and Wyatt moved so I could see my mother standing with my father, holding hands, beside Ravyn and Aiden. Ravyn looked as if he had just woken up and only gotten a few minutes of sleep. Aiden looked as though he hadn't gotten any sleep and his eyes, though happy, were calculating, like he was trying to figure out a hard math problem. My mother was the one crying, holding onto my father so tightly that his hand was purple but he didn't seem to mind, since he was crying and squeezing back just as hard.

Everyone rushed me at once, relief so clearly etched onto their faces that it made me cry a little, wondering how long I had been under the sea of blackness. But I had no time to talk. A glass of water was thrust at me courtesy of Aiden and my mother and father blubbered all over me, thanking any higher power they could think of for saving me. Ravyn was even crying, though I had never truly ever seen him cry before. I had thought for the longest time that he was born without tear ducts.

Wyatt held my hand the entire time, a small, sad smile curving his lips at the corners as he watched me with my family. Randomly, he would lift my hand and kiss my knuckles or he would kiss my forehead or nose before sliding back into his position of just watching me.

After about twenty minutes, Carlisle stepped in and checked my vitals. He ushered everyone out except Wyatt who I refused to let go of and vice versa. Carlisle merely nodded and smiled knowingly at us as he continued reviewing all the machines I was hooked up to.

"What happened?" I asked quietly.

Carlisle sighed, suddenly looking tired though he did not need sleep to function. "You fell off the roof, landing on the concrete. You split your skull open as it bounced on the cement. You rolled a bit, breaking your wrist and ribs from the pressure of the fall and one almost punctured your lung. I had to stitch the back of your head and I made sure I removed as little as possible of your hair to do so, not enough to be noticeable by any one but us."

I cleared my throat. "Uh, how long was I out?" I whispered.

"Not long. A day or so. I had to keep you under anesthesia so you couldn't rip the stitches out."

Carlisle excused himself after telling me my recovery and that I would be as fit as a fiddle since he already removed the stitches this morning, commenting on how remarking my healing rate was once again. Wyatt remained silent through all of it. His expression was dark and brooding, so I waited until Carlisle left to let him explain himself.

"I'm so sorry, Mac," Wyatt finally said after some moments of silence. "I never meant to hurt you, I was just so lost in the past that I was feeling all the repressed emotions I have. Lonliness is the major one. I've had to do things by myself for so long that it is practically engrained in my brain. I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me. I love you so much that when I went back into my room all I could think of was you. Your face as I walked away from you. I need you, Two Socks, and I love you something fierce."

I looked at him as the tears began to gather. I blinked them away, once again tired of crying. "I forgave you the moment I heard your voice telling me to wake up," I responded, squeezing his hand tightly in mine, lacing our fingers together. "I love you, too, Ducky. I really, really do. I didn't mean to do what I did, I was just looking for an out to the pain."

His eyes narrowed on my face. "What do you mean? Does this happen a lot?"

I sighed and glanced over at a picture of daisy's on the wall. "Not really, now that I have control of my powers. But when I'm overwhelmed, they can make me blackout. Remember the first time you met me and I went unconscious?"

"So your saying you did this on prupose." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, but not the falling of your roof thing. I wasn't really thinking logically at the time. I was too consumed with the pain your words and actions cause that I just wanted to escape."

It was quiet. Too quiet. I dared to look over at him and instantly regretted it. His eyes were red again as tears were welling up making his blue eyes almost a green/blue color. His face was angry though, his lips pursed.

"I'm sorry," he rasped. "I can't believe I did what I did, causing you to do this. I'll probably never forgive myself. But look at me right now and promise me that you won't do this to yourself on purpose ever again. No matter what anyone does or says, you will not put me through this ever again."

I stared him right in the eyes as I responded. "I promise."

He crashed his lips to mine and the beeping went crazy as it felt as if my heart were about to rip right out of my chest and run a marathon. Though it hurt my ribs like a bitch, I couldn't have cared less. His lips wrapped up with mine was home.

Hmm, there was a bit of foreshadowing there, did you guys notice it? I sure did.

Review! =]