I was exhausted by the time I finally got back home on Monday, my body aching in several places.

When I pulled up in my mom's car, I saw Max sitting in his wheelchair on his porch, watching something on his phone. I could tell by the smile that tugged at his lips that it was obviously a video of one of his old soccer games.

"Hey, Duncan!" I called out, shutting the car door. He lifted his head, his eyes immediately falling on the uniform I was wearing.

"You went to practice?" He questioned, "How'd you do?"

"Okay, I guess." I grumbled, walking across the street so we didn't have to scream.

"I guess? Did something happen?" He asked. I shrugged again, plopping down on the step beside him.

"No, something just felt. . . off." I said, sighing. I couldn't really explain it. The whole time I had been practicing my mind had drifted back to Max, to how he was sitting back at home when everyone knew very well that he wanted to be practicing with us.

"Was Baker being a pervert again?" He cocked an eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips.

"When is Baker not a pervert?" I shot back, standing back up.

I dropped the soccer ball back on to the ground and gestured behind me.

"My Dad said I wasn't allowed over here any more. I feel like such a rebel." I joked, dribbling the ball between my feet. He looked a little taken back by my joke.

"Why? Why doesn't he want you over here anymore?" I stiffened, knowing very well I should have expected the question.

My dad had immediately snapped at me when I came back in the other night, telling me that I wasn't allowed to date right now. But that wasn't what I had stalked out of the room in anger over, no it was what he said when I asked him why.

"I love you, Quinn. That's why. But then you go and have this terrible choice in men. First you're with that bastard that beat you, now you're with some handicap kid that's never going to be able to make anything out of himself." I hadn't been able to reply, so I had stormed out of the room and slammed my door in his face when he tried to come after me.

My dad wasn't the type of person to talk crap about other people, but he had crossed a line when he talked about Max the way he did.

Sure Max had treated me like absolute garbage for the last ten years, but he had become a different person recently, and honestly I was starting to kind of like him.

"Quinn? Why?" Max snapped me out of my thoughts, his eyes trained on me in curiosity.

"He just didn't want me out in general." I decided to keep what my dad had said to myself.

He seemed to take the hint and nodded, watching my feet as I kicked the ball back and forth between them.

"Ryan was in the car with me." He breathed out, his eyes darting in another direction, "When I was in the accident." I stared blankly at Max for a second, trying to take in the fact that he was actually telling me what happened.

"Your cousin Ryan?" I asked. Max gave me a quick nod as I set the ball down on the ground and sat down beside it.

"I was on my way to dropping him off at Ariel and Andrew McLaughlin's place." I frowned at his words.

"You mean your cousin Andy, right?" I could vaguely remember Andrew and Ryan. The only thing I could remember is Andrew had taught Max to play football a couple years back.

"Just by marriage. He isn't blood like Ryan." He let out a shaky sigh, "We were on our way to Andy's house, I guess Ryan wanted to meet their daughter or something." Max was staring straight ahead, his eyes dark and distant, as if he were anywhere else but here.

"And a kid ran into the middle of the freeway. I don't know where the hell he came from, and I didn't have enough time to find out. I swerved around him and went head on into an SUV. Ryan came out without a scratch, I. . . well I came out all fucked up." I reached up and touched Max's hand, staring up at him with my vision blurred.

"Max, you aren't-"

"I'm not? Then how come I can't play anymore? How come I'll never be able to have a normal fucking life? I'll never be able to marry someone without them doing it out of pity, I'll never be able to kids. Don't sit here and tell me I'm not fucked up, Quinn. Stop lying." I felt my hand clench into a fist, my breathing coming out shaky.

"And what about me, Max? You think the reason I'm sitting here with you right now is because I pity you?" I tried to say it as calmly as possible, but my voice quivered.

"I don't know, Quinn. I honestly can't say. Would you have talked to me if I wasn't like this?" I stood up, pointing my finger in his face accusingly.

"You were the one that treated me like shit my whole life, Max! You were the one that told me I wasn't good enough." He winced, shutting his eyes.

"I know, Quinn. I'm sorry."

"You were the one that sat there and ridiculed my boyfriend, even when he wasn't hurting me. You hated me, Maxwell. You-"

"I didn't hate you, Quinn." He cut me off again, staring down at his hands on his lap, his jaw clenched.

"Bullshit. I never did anything to you and you treated me the way you did. You-"

"Never did anything? You stayed with that piece of shit for almost four years before you finally realized that he wasn't going to stop. You let him fuck you, beat you, and toss you to the side like you were nothing." He growled.

"But to you I wasn't anything, right?" I said quietly, my eyes stinging with tears again.

"No, Quinn." He paused, "I didn't think that. You don't understand." he rubbed his face, shaking his head.

"Then make me understand, Max."

"I loved you." He whispered, "When we were kids, I thought you were my whole world, Quinn. You were beautiful, you were smart, and you were literally the only girl that loved soccer as much as I did. But that stopped when we went into middle school and you met that bastard. I lost the feelings, they turned bitter and I wanted to do everything in my power to make him feel like shit, even if it meant hurting you in the process." I stared in shock at Max, my jaw dropping.

"Every time you came home with a new mark, I wanted to kill him. You deserved better, but you let him hurt you, let him stay. I didn't understand why you'd always forgive him, he didn't deserve you." I dropped my hands to my sides, my mind finally wrapping around everything he had said.

"Max-"

"Just go home, Quinn. This isn't some pathetic book you'd read. This isn't going to end in a happily ever after." I took a step toward him, frowning.

"Why not?" I whispered.

"Because you deserve the world, and I can't even give you all of myself." He said, agony clear in his eyes.

"What about how I feel?" I snapped, "What if I want to be with you?" He snorted, looking directly at me so I could see him roll his eyes.

"Sure, Quinn. Make me feel better. Why do you think I pushed you away so much? It was because I knew you deserved better than me, and now I'm positive you do. And thinking you might forgive me would be something out of a fairytale." I opened my mouth, to say something to deny everything that was leaving his mouth.

But. . . maybe he was right. Maybe some part of me would never forgive the Max Duncan that hurt me repeatedly, the Max that had verbally abused me for ten years.

Another part of me realized that I had forgave the man that had actually physically beat me over and over, so why, why couldn't I forgive Max? Everyone makes mistakes, and maybe in some weird way, he thought he had been protecting me. 

***AN***

Hope you guys enjoyed!

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~ChasingMadness24