Chapter 13

"Please...." I begged, his body pinning me down once again. But not because I tried running and he tackled me. No, he was over me because it was time for us to go to sleep, the worst time of the day for me. His hand held my failing fighting wrist to the bed, keeping it out of the way. He grabbed my other wrist that he planned to cuff.

"I'm sorry," he breathed above me, looking deeply in my eyes with such sincerity.

I felt him press the metal of the handcuffs against my wrist again, an invitation to another night of horror. Before he could lock it around my wrist and leave me helpless once again, I thrashed under him, bucking up and trying to get him off of me and get away from what he was holding.

"No! No, you can't!" I screamed, trying to bend my knee and move it up, wanting to kick him or push him away. His legs over mine wouldn't allow it and he made sure too by pressing more of his body weight over me. He wasn't worried about me being able to physically dominate him, wasn't concerned about my current and pathetic attempt for escape - which was just me moving as much as I could under him. We both knew I wouldn't be able to get out of his reach again this time. I couldn't help it, couldn't keep myself from yelling and trying to fight.

It never hurt this bad before. I knew this was going to be my worst night of the withdrawal. I was shaking since the middle of the afternoon, I couldn't keep any food down, and I was in a constant sweat. But that wasn't including my internal pain. At the worst points today, I was on fire, burning alive within my own skin. With no escape and it left me shrieking in pain. I never, in my life, felt such a pain. Clare's beatings could go under the category of 'kid's play' because this couldn't be described without saying I was sure I was going to die.

Luke tried his hardest all day to keep me distracted. By admitting to me some embarrassing things about him, telling me some dirty jokes, and even resulting in some of the faults he saw in Clare but they were very small faults - he wouldn't dare go against her to the extreme, even if it helped me feel better. I don't think it would have anyway because nothing he said to me helped. Sure, it kept my mind busy for a while, pondering over the jokes he said and reasons for his blush at telling me embarrassing things about him. But always, in the back of my mind and chest, the burn was there. No matter how distracted I was, I could always feel it to some extent.

He didn't leave my room all day. He knew this was an important day and he wouldn't dare keep his gaze off me. It was Clare's day off and he even had her bring up dinner for me and other things like a few fans to keep me cool. That made me smile, surprisingly. It appeared as if she were his bitch for the day. I could at least imagine. He sat in that chair all day, droopy eyes just getting more and more tired and exhausted. The only time he would leave was to go to the bathroom so he had to handcuff me to the headboard for a few minutes. It wasn't long and I knew it. Every time he did it, he said he was sorry and he would be right back - and he was within two minutes, often bringing back a wet rag to help keep me cool as well. But those minutes seemed to stretch on and bring so much fear out of me that by the time he let me out of the cuffs and was back in the room, I either tried running again or threw up into the basket he brought in besides my bed. So just picture how I was feeling now with him trying to handcuff me for the rest of the night. If you think I'm dandy, you can shove it up your ass. Because I wasn't.

"I am very sorry," he said again. He could have finished the job any second and handcuffed my wrist to the bed by now, even as I was thrashing under him. He could. But he didn't yet. He was trying to get me to understand first. A flick of his hand would be all and I would be in hell again, trapped against my bed. But not yet. My eyes watched it, waited for the terrible metal claws to lock me here. "I am going to handcuff you, Albany," he said quietly, his face right above mine in a whisper, his body not giving me a chance to move anymore. "Just get through tonight. This was your worst day of withdrawal and tonight will be your worst night. But by tomorrow and forever after that, it will be easier."

I knew he was right. I was almost finished with this shitty withdrawal and after tonight, it would get easier. This was the height, the climax of this suffocating situation. After this, after tonight, it would get better gradually.

But tonight was just beginning and the heat in me, longing for the sweet relief, took over all my willpower. Numerous times today, I would bolt for the door, even with him sitting right by me. Try, try, try. And it all ended in seconds before I even got to the door. He would pin me to my bed, tackle me to the floor, grab me and throw me back to the bed, block me.... He did all of that today to keep me here. Despite how tired and off guard I figured he would be, he was fast, strong, and ready. He wouldn't let me slip by him again after this morning.

It didn't matter to me though. I was going to die! Going to suffer and die if I didn't have it in my system and that felt like such an incredibly true fact. I knew it would happen, no matter what he said. No person could go through this hurt and live. Which is why I tried countless times, needing to at the very least give it some attempt.

But now, it was the worst moment in my life. The pain was something I wasn't going to, couldn't, get through. I was going to die and I was so sure of that. The fire was too strong, the feeling in my head overwhelming. Agony filled me and was released with screams. But it never stopped coming. Suffering to the full extent, the sickening realization came to me that Luke must be lying. He must be wrong because there was no way I could handle this, get through this!

"I will die!" I screamed up in his face that was no more than an inch away. And as I screamed, the only thing i could successfully do was wait. Wait for him to cuff me here and leave me to die.

His eyebrows dipped through my blurry vision, hurt on his face and so much sympathy. "You will not die. I promise you."

He didn't understand. The pain was just too much. Deep down, no matter how much it felt like I would die, I knew I would be okay. I would wake up in the morning. Somehow I would get through the pain like he promised. But he didn't know of what else would happen to me, internally. He wouldn't know the reason I was going to end up in tears tonight. Not from the pain, no matter how much it hurt; I could get through it and suffer with no tears. Tears would come from a much deeper pain.

My eyes flickered from his face to where his hand was, ready to move it down and lock my wrist under the cool material of my own hell. One of the two ratchets were already locked around one of the bars of my headboard. All that was left for him to do was my wrist. My breath was hard, panicked and I didn't even care if he knew I was scared and weak anymore. All that was racing in my mind was the knowledge that I needed drugs and that I might truly lose my mind if he handcuffed me.

"You can't promise!" I yelled in his face. "You don't know! You will never understand! Just don't do this, don't handcuff me!"

No matter how much my mind was focused on my situation, I couldn't help but notice that something happened to his eyes. They widened, lit up at my words and I recalled earlier my thoughts.

He helped me with so much since I have been home. Pretty easy on me, if you ask me. But the one thing he refused to do was give me an alternative option when it came to being handcuffed. Well, he pushed for the reason I needed to be handcuffed and if I didn't give him a good one, he would leave me handcuffed. I wasn't sure why, but he wanted desperately to know my reasoning behind not wanting to be handcuffed.

"Then tell me why," he pushed like before.

Yet... no matter if he saw this scared me, if he saw that this hit a nerve, I wouldn't tell him something that would make me lose my dignity. My whole life, I have been teased, accused of wanting attention. People coming up to me and asking me if they could see my self inflicted cuts; wanting to know why I wasn't in a mental hospital. I was an animal at the zoo.

I learned how to deal with it - and that I was stronger than anyone that looked at me that way. True, it wasn't their fault that they thought that I was insane. It was mine for being naive and listening to my mother. I took her very thoughtful offers on the way to the doctors office by the time I was three years old. But now, I knew better and saw the consequences. I have my dignity, my own sanity that was mine and mine only.

I had my self respect when nobody respected me. I have my dignity.

That's why I said what I did next to him. "I wont tell you anything. All I can do is hope you will take it to heart when you hear that I need you to not handcuff me and find another way. Please. I can't tell you why I can't be handcuffed! But can't you see that it hurts me? Can't you do something else? Lock me in the bathroom, make me sleep on the floor in here, lock my door from the outside and put bars on my window! Please!"

I felt my stomach roll, my chest jumping at what I heard as I watched his expression. And it was that of the gradual clicking of the ratchet as he slowly closed it around my shaking wrist. Every click caused his eyebrows to dip lower in slight hurt. Secured tightly now, my hand forced up above my head permanently for the night, he sighed in sadness at what he had forced himself to do. With no point in being over me any longer to hold me down, he braced his hands on my bed and lifted himself up, moving his legs so he was kneeling on my bed, looking down at me.

"Fuck you!" I yelled, voice harsh as I was forcing my eyes full of pure anger at him. I wouldn't tell him that this was my worst fear, that this was going to be the worst night of my life because I had my dignity. I wasn't sure if he would have locked me in the bathroom or done something else if I told him just how bad this was going to be. I would never know now.

He swallowed hard, biting his lip and clearly hating that he had to do this. And he should; I hope he feels guilty. He didn't say anything else about it even though I saw he wanted to. He took a deep breath, looking down and away from my gaze as he moved off my bed and back on his feet. He stepped towards the bedside table and bent over, picking up the waist basket that held my vomit. I was so pissed off at him, I wanted to dump it all over his nice brown hair and watch him suffer like me.

"Ahhh!" I growled, thrashing against the handcuff, panicked and scared and sick with pain. "Fuck! Oh god, I need it! Get me out of here!" I screamed, rolling and turning over with the burn in my body driving me to move. With only one hand trapped, I was able to toss and turn even though it hurt my wrist more. I was scared out of my mind and was hurting badly. It would only get worse during the night.

As I yelled and groaned, somehow hoping he would change his mind, he grabbed the ends of the plastic bag in the bin and raised the bag full of my vomit out of the bin. He tied it closed in a second, grabbing another bag that was on my dresser ready. He inserted the clean bag it in the bin. Without meeting my eyes, he set the now freshly prepared bin back on the floor where it was before and still in reach with me handcuffed like this.

"Ah fuck! Oh man, it hurts! Please, Luke! I need something! Give me something!"

Ignoring me, he grabbed something small off the dresser. Then he turned back to me, moving the few feet it took and setting whatever it was on the bedside table next to the glass of water (plus paper towels he brought in earlier). It was a pill but it didn't look like the usual ones he gave me for the withdrawal. Besides, he just gave me one of those about an hour ago. Didn't help a damn bit this time.

He looked up to me, meeting my eyes and where I was struggling to move. "Albany, this is an Ambien. It will help with sleep."

"I'll settle for cocaine!" I yelled at him, leaning towards him with what the handcuffs will allow.

He didn't say anything else. He was feeling more than worry but he didn't show it either. He sighed, turning around and walking towards the door as I yelled at him, screamed that he needed to let me go, that he couldn't do this to me and that I needed some drugs! Agh fuck! Burned so bad... Made the heat rise as I watched him; he didn't stop moving. In fact, in the few steps it took him to get to the door, his pace seemed to have increased slightly.

By the time he was out the door and closed it, I felt myself collapse back against the bed, breathing hard with rapid breaths. I moaned, running the wet rag he left me over my body, trying to calm down the best that I could. It wouldn't happen though. Clare could walk in at any moment, beat me. I could die with the fire that was torturing me and growing. The only cure would be for me to get drugs in my system or to just get me out of these handcuffs. I didn't have control over that at all. I had no control, no way to stop anything from happening. Panic and pure fucking pain! Such a pain that the hurting sensation alone would leave me thriving in turmoil. Now, on top of it, was my greatest fear in action.

Without another thought, I leaned over to the side towards the bedside table and picked up the pill that Luke left for me to help sleep. Though I didn't get any sleep last night, I knew that tonight wouldn't be different with all that was happening to me. I could only hope this helped.

I took the pill and even though nothing distracted me from the pain, I could feel my eyelids getting heavier and the thought of sleeping... well, sleep could hopefully make it pass much faster and I wouldn't go through the pain the same as if awake. But going to sleep... that left a panic of its own too.

If I go to sleep, who knows what will happen to me. If Clare comes in and beats me, it will be without choice on my part. I am here through force. But sleep... it was going to take me completely off guard if anything happens. I could feel the effects of the pill on me about half an hour later and even though my panic and worry and pain just grew, I could feel it working and it really did scare me. But at least I had the control of making myself go to sleep. That's what counted.

I had pride in myself; it was all I had left so I needed to hold onto it. That's why I didn't tell him. But right now, with all of the suffering that I was going through, pride was such a small thing.... I made a mistake in not telling him.

***

"Albany, darling, I have been looking for you everywhere," I heard a light voice say, one in which I could feel make the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Oh god, oh no. Through the darkness of the familiar forest, I turned around in search of the ugly source of the voice. With the beautiful moon lighting up the woods below, the brush and foliage bright in the dark, I found what else was visible too.

My eyes landed on Clare there, standing a few feet away from me. She was smiling at me, her lips dark with lipstick, her thick brown curls framing her face perfectly as they fell around her shoulders. She was supporting a faded blue dress, a pattern of flowers scattered over the material. Even in the light of the moon above, I could see that in strange detail.

She wasn't the only one that was very clear to me though. In front of her stood a short little girl, her height reaching just past Clare's hips. Clare's hands resting on the girls shoulders as they were both facing me. I felt my heart jump and my eyes widen at the sight of her and the little girl standing with her.

I knew her right away. She had thick dark brown hair that cascaded down her back, the little girl's brown eyes meeting my same colored eyes. I saw the similarities and it broke my heart. Her eyes, the shape of her face along with the formation of her lips.... The only thing that was different was her hair really. She had Clare's hair.

She wasn't wearing any proper clothing. A black plastic garbage bag was wrapped around her torso, the material slightly lit up in the moonlight. It rested on her shoulders, all the way down to where it stopped just above her naked knees, her legs and feet bare on the dirt floor of the woods.

"Emily...." I moaned in a gentle whisper, not believing my eyes. She was actually here.... Right there, as clear as can be.

At hearing her name softly on my lips, I saw that her small smile on her pretty pink lips grew into a bright grin. Her small teeth white smiler lovingly and it killed my heart. She had a few freckles that sprinkled over her smooth cheeks, I noticed when I stepped forward a little.

"Do you love her, Albany?" I heard Clare speak softly.

Looking up at her, I felt my stomach turn. My eyes quickly fell to where she was grasping Emily's shoulders and was holding her against her like that. Like she was a real mother to her and loved her. I found Clare's eyes again and saw she was smiling, coming off very nice but I knew not to be fooled.

"Yes," I whispered as I nodded, glancing back down at her innocent little brown eyes. I stepped forward more, slowly and full of caution. When I got close enough to her, I could feel my chest tighten and a lump grow in my throat that I hadn't felt in ages. Kneeling down before the beautiful little girl, making it so we were at the same height, I took in her little nose and her top row of teeth biting her bottom lip; she gave me a cute smile with it. She was so close to me now.... I met her eyes and felt myself smile brightly back at her. "I love you, Emily."

A breeze moved through the forest lightly and it made her thick hair brush in the wind. And to see what a soft breeze did her hair, her alive skin, I wanted to touch her. I wanted to feel her and know she was real. Lightly, so carefully, I raised a hand and moved it forward and made contact, my finger tips on the side of her face near her ear.

I felt myself sigh. She was real; and this was happening. Her pale skin was so cold while smooth as I pushed my fingers back towards her ear. I caught some of her hair that was sweeping in the breeze and tucked it behind her ear.

"I miss you so much," I said, happiness and so much love growing in me. Taking in her eyes, I spoke softly. "Do you remember who I am?"

I watched her cute smile with her top row of spaced out teeth biting over her bottom lip. It turned up into a full smile and it made my whole being ache. She nodded and she leaned closer while still under Clare's grasp. I was close enough that she was able to lean forward and towards the side of my head. Her small hands moved up to her mouth and pressed them together in a circle against my ear. A moment later, she pressed her mouth to her covering hands and whispered so lightly in my ear.

"I believe you," she said, her pretty voice high and warm, young and innocent. So innocent, I wanted to cry from that and her words. God, it was like I could feel her voice rattling inside me!

I turned my head to look at her close to me. I bit my lip, my smile so true. "You do?"

She looked down, as if embarrassed or scared. Scared of saying something wrong. Saying something that Clare didn't like. Her smile faded and she bit her lip as well. But it was from fear. She gave me a small nod. Looking at her face as it went from incredibly happy to upset and scared, I felt my smile fall as well.

My eyes crawled up to where Clare was looking down at us. She wasn't smiling now, knowing what Emily had said to me. Yet, I think she was happy Emily said it, happy she had an excuse to ruin all of this.

"Let me have her," I said to Clare in a deep voice, standing up and moving back a foot or two, creating space for Emily and facing Clare more. At that, at seeing that I was getting very upset as I glared, she smirked slightly. She had the control over Emily and she shouldn't. She had no right to have her after what she did.

"You want her?" She asked, smile growing wicked and playful. I wanted to kill her and show her how Emily must have felt.

"You don't want her. You hate her," I said and it was the truth. "So let me take her."

Her eyes were calculating, flickering from me down to where Emily was looking up at us talking. I swallowed hard, praying that this would turn out. It needed to. She was all I loved anymore. She was the only one I think I ever loved and I needed her so she could love me. She deserved that. Deserved something for what Clare did.

"Alright," Clare finally said, removing her hands from the beautiful girls shoulders and patting her back, gesturing for her to go to me then. Looking down at her, she said, "Go on Emily. Albany will take good care of you."

Her eyes grew, smile so bright as it returned to her face. She turned her head towards me and my heart jumped. Her eyes on mine with excitement and feeling that this would work, that she could be free and live the life she deserved with me.

"Yay!" She squealed with her light and excited voice. The next minute, I saw her step towards me and I knelt back down and held my arms out to her as she neared. I moaned as the warmth of her entered my open arms.

"Oh," I groaned and gasped, hugging her to me as I felt her small arms hold me back in the embrace. I couldn't believe it, couldn't understand. But it didn't matter. She was here, in my arms, and I didn't want to ever let her go. I wanted to know her, love her and give her a chance. She could grow up, live her life, be with me and I could be with her. She could find love, get married, have kids. I wanted that for her, knowing I couldn't have that with my position. I wanted the one person I loved to have that, have a chance! Now, I could give it to her!

But then, I felt something happening in my arms. With where my arms rested on her hair on her back, I felt her whimper and her tighten her arms around me, holding on and I knew why. Under my hands, I could feel her hair lose the softness, her body shaking slightly.

I moved back from my hug and made her face me, my hands holding her arms as I knelt and took her in. Her face held fear and she was panicking and I saw the reason with horror. Her skin, pale and smooth, grew grey and cracked, dry. Wrinkles as well formed and actual cracks broke out along her skin that I could see. She was looking down at herself, her lips parted in a gasp.

"Albany!" She yelled, scared as I was at seeing this happen to her. Her face, cheeks and lips lost their color and cracked too. My eyes took her in with panic, not knowing what to do. Shocked, I watched as all her skin that I could see was full black cracks and it looked like she might collapse to stone pieces.

But that wasn't all that happened. Her eyes were wide, looking at herself and soon, the white color in her eyes tinted to a dark red color. She didn't seem to notice as she was too preoccupied with taking in what was happening to her body. Seeing her own skin crack into stone. I could even see that with every crack made, the dirt and dust from it released. Under my touch and where my fingers were on her now cold and stone skin, feeling the texture of the deep looking ripped open wrinkles. And I felt... something wet. Looking down from where I was watching her eyes, I saw that a dark red blood was flowing freely out of the cracks in her now transformed skin.

"Oh! No! No!" I heard myself saying in a shaky voice. This wasn't happening to her! She was here! She was alive and in my arms! Clare gave her to me! She was mine and I needed to take care of her, take her home and show her life and a chance for her. This wasn't happening, couldn't! Ah oh fuck, fuck no! I suffered enough and so did she. I just found her and I wouldn't let her go.

My eyes roaming over her arms that were now releasing all this blood, flowing down her arms, I felt myself grasp her bloody arms tighter. As if holding onto her tighter will keep her here with me. Panicked, I looked up to her face and felt myself gasp loudly, jumping a little at the sight. Her eyes that were growing red now were releasing tears. Except, she was crying blood and it ran down her stone and cracked cheeks - which was also bleeding out and running down her face. Her nose, her mouth, her damn ears released blood and I could see her sobbing as she just stood there, blood all over her and I didn't know what to do!

The black garbage bag that was wrapped around her was seeping, I noticed, and blood dripped out of it and onto the ground. I could feel the tears easily streaming down my own face now at the sight of her. What was I going to do? She was all I had!

"Albany, do something!" I heard her shout but with it, came the worst sound I have ever heard. Her words... were muffled. The begging voice of her was hard to understand because I could hear it was hard to say with a gargle of blood in her mouth. She leaned to the side, spitting it out but it wouldn't stop. Blood streaming out of her, red was all I could really see.

It wasn't but a second later that she collapsed to the ground, a muffle coming from her but I couldn't understand. She didn't move any more, didn't say anything else. She was dead. Dead and gone in the sickest way.

The last thing I saw was Clare's delighted face when I looked up to where she stood close by. She chuckled, a sinister smile over her face and I wanted to kill her. I wanted to personally send her to hell and watch her burn and cry and beg and laugh at her myself!

I didn't get the chance to do anything like that. Because the next time my eyes found something, it wasn't Clare. I wasn't in the woods. I didn't see Emily anywhere. I was in my room, laying in my damp bed and I heard a loud ring. I realized it was me screaming. Realized I was handcuffed to my headboard. Realized it was all a dream and that I was going to be sick.

I was already grasping at the sheets without realizing it. But in the next moment, I let go and leaned over the side of the bed in a quick motion, grabbing the waste basket. I lifted it up closer to where my head was dipping down towards it. Not a moment later did I allow my mouth to release the terrible acid feeling, the throaty noise cutting off my scream.

I threw up hard and could feel that along with the sting of vomit leaving me, that same lump in my throat returned that I felt in my dream. I wasn't going to cry even though I wouldn't be able to hold it in forever. My stomach burned, my chest was in flames, and my throat was hot and felt closed. My breath was coming in rapidly every time I could break before more puke came up. I was violently vomiting and felt ready... to literally explode. There was tension in me, the burn filling every inch of my body; I could feel it want to swallow me whole. And not just from the pain of the withdrawal. Oh no, not just that. The pain of everything else with it. No control, handcuffed to the bed, pain of all kinds, and my very realistic dream that left my heart broken.

Lightning bolts ran through me. Pressures in all forms built as the terrible taste of the puke once again entered my mouth before releasing it into the bin. The sweat on me was dripping to the point where it felt like I was drenched. It's a sensation I wouldn't wish on anyone - except Clare of course. Winds and waves of fire going a thousand miles per hour, a dance of chaos taking me over, the feeling of nails being pounded into your skin!

As I vomited, it all raced through my head that I wasn't even able to hear my door fly open. "Albany!" I heard his deep voice in the next second, coming closer and closer and I felt my bed dip. Luke was sitting on the side of my bed as I vomited but I couldn't pay any mind to him. Emily... How could I just sit there and watch that happen to her? How dare I let that happen to her?! I know it was only a dream but... I mean, how could I do that? How could I be so heartless when she was the only one I ever loved? Oh god, Emily.

After I stopped vomiting in the waist bin, I groaned in a shaky breath, exhausted and out of breath, in overwhelming pain. Slowly, I moved my face back and away from where it was pressed close to the bin. Before I could even attempt to put it back down on the floor with my shaky hand, I felt Luke grasp onto the side of it, taking it. I looked up to him slowly from where I was laying on my stomach, head hanging off the bed. With dead eyes, I saw him put it on the floor for me, making it much easier because he knew it hurt for me just to move that much.

I was going to break any second now and I didn't want him here. Taking deep breaths, I set my eyes onto the bed and not him as I moved back slowly. I grabbed some paper towels with the hand that wasn't bound and I wiped my face, pressing my back to the headboard as I sat up. But really, there was no point in trying to get comfortable. This was taking me over, in every way. I might not die, like he said. But I wanted to right now. I wanted to be with Emily, go to her and tell her I am so sorry. I wasn't sure if dying would take me to her but sitting here in reality wouldn't get me anywhere near her.

I needed the cocaine, so so much. I needed it more than anything so this pain would leave me. But at the same time, more than anything, I wanted out of these handcuffs, wanted my control and rights back. More than anything, I wanted Emily to be alive and for her to know I was sorry I didn't do anything.

So before I could deal with this impossible situation my way, he needed to leave first.

"Get out, Luke," I said as calmly as I could, avoiding his eyes. "I'm fine."

"You are not," he said immediately after and his voice was fast and sure. It made me meet his eyes and I felt my heart jump as he examined my eyes. He knew there was more going on with me than just the pain. "You had a dream, didn't you?" He asked in a softer voice.

I forgot he went through withdrawal before. So he knew then what to expect - like dreams. However, he didn't understand what else was going through my head. Like my greatest fear of being bound and not in control. "I did have a dream," I said, tense and just wanting to cry right now. I was breaking my one rule so the last thing I needed was him to witness it. "That is all. Please leave."

"No, I'm not leaving," he said in an absolute tone. Luke sitting on the side of my bed, I watched as he scooted back more onto my mattress. Fully too as I watched him crawl around my legs and came up on my other side by the wall more. He moved until his back was pressed against my headboard like me, his shoulder near mine. Luke stretched his legs out before him like me, his head tilted to the side and looking at me. "You don't seem to listen, do you? I told you before. You can't fool me."

What the hell? Out of all the times to talk to me, he chooses now?! He didn't know that I wasn't capable of talking right now. I couldn't because I was ready to start crying and because there was just too much going through my head at the minute.

My body shaking, burning, I wanted to scream with how much pain I was feeling. I just was able to manage to shake my head as an answer. My throat burning with the terrible acid still, I leaned over to the table and grabbed the water, downing it. I cringed at the feeling of the remaining vomit in my throat sliding back down.

"I know why you want me to leave," he said lightly and it made my heart race. He didn't know, didn't understand this. Yet, with how nervous I was suddenly becoming, I think I knew it was true deep down. Somehow, he knew... and I hated that.

Trying to prove him wrong, it took a lot to built the strength to do what I did next. Glancing to him, I raised an eyebrow, calling him crazy. "Uh, maybe to get back to sleep? I'm sorry if Clare isn't doing enough to pleasure you but I want you out of my room. I am tired."

Both of us resting our heads against the headboard, he kept his head tilted towards me and wanted to meet my eyes. But I looked straight ahead and stared at my closet, refusing to look to him. I tried pulling off an annoyed look; I wasn't sure if it was working.

He groaned. "Wow, you really don't like listening, do you?" he said, sounding annoyed a little himself. "You do not fool me. You want me gone to be alone right now because you want to cry. You feel ashamed because you don't like crying because it makes you feel weak. Even more so if someone else sees."

He tried distracting me earlier and it didn't work because the pain was just too great. He should have just said what he just did then and it would have kept me distracted. Because right now, all focus was on him and his words. Staring at him, I wasn't sure what to say. I wanted to deny his theory instantly on instinct. But... really, I didn't have much strength to do that. Plus, and I didn't realize this until much later, but I think subconsciously I was glad he figured me out like that. I wasn't willing enough to tell anybody about my problems but I always figured that it must feel good having someone to talk to. I just always thought it was very weak to do that.

Sighing, I said, "If you know I want to cry, than why don't you leave and let me do it the way I want to?"

"Because you don't have anybody. I care about you, Albany. You are my stepdaughter and though I just met you, I like you. I want to be your friend and help you. Because I understand you more than anybody else I think."

"You do not," I groaned, tilting my head more to catch his eyes and stress that he really didn't understand. "If you care, you will leave me alone for right now."

"You were right earlier!" He spoke, as if desperate to show that he understood. "I thrive in control. Just like you said. You were right about that."

I didn't say anything and I felt my eyes widen slightly at seeing where this just might lead. He brought up what I said earlier about control to him. When I hit him with the lamp this morning and he caught me in time. He pinned me against the wall. When he did, I saw how frustrated he was and how stressed his eyes looked. That he wanted control and didn't have any since I have been home; I told him I saw it in him. Maybe it was my own fault for bringing up that I saw his need for it. He caught on after that. Because why else would he say what he just did if he wasn't going to somehow connect it to me? Ugh. Fuck me in the ass.

"I know you do too," he said. At this point, all I could do was sit there and try to keep the chaos in my head. It was hard when I was trying to calculate his words at the same time. "It's not just the withdrawal and pain. It's the control you don't have when handcuffed. And now, whatever that dream was, it pushed you over the edge. Too much."

Oh lord, oh god. He knew... Luke really did understand that my reaction to the handcuffs were because it left me helpless and weak, with no control. And I hated he figured that out about me. Yet... I don't know. It was like I was happy he understood that because he was the same way. I never could relate with people or get them to understand but Luke did.

I tilted my head the other way, out of his sight and towards my dresser when I felt that lump in my throat grow bigger and could feel tears dance around my vision. Oh shit, don't cry. Don't cry, not in front of him.... Get him out of here first, you baby!

I took a few deep breaths, holding the tears back. I turned back to face him and when I did, I felt a chill move over my body. I didn't realize it before but the moonlight from my window was what made him visible to me and it reminded me too much of the dream. The way the moon lit up Clare and Emily's beautiful features as well as what happened to her.

I was going to try again, tell him to get out and leave me alone but when my eyes met his, I froze. He must have seen something on my face that made his eyes grow fonder; his eyebrows smoothed out in realizing something and I cursed the fact that my face must have given too much away.

He leaned closer to me, his arm sliding around my back that was against the headboard. With his arm on my back, he slightly turned me to my side more and made it easier as his other arm went around me and he hugged me to him, knowing what was coming in the next second.

I was surprised at his action but he did it just as he saw my tears fall. Nobody really ever hugged me before, not like this. My mind went back to the dream, of Emily and I hugging each other.

My other hand and arm was still straining against the headboard as he held me against him but even then, it didn't stop my free hand from reacting to his gesture. Resting my head against his shoulder, I wrapped my arm up and around his neck, holding him to me and really, it was just... so strange. I never did this before, never leaned against someone and cried. Never really cried, period. I've had boyfriends - if you can call them that - in my past that would hug me and be intimate with me. But it was always sexual with them and not really too serious and nice.

This, however... it was so nice. Warm and welcoming and it was something that I felt I needed as well. The second he hugged me to him and I rested in his arms, I let out a strangled noise. A cry and whimper that I wouldn't dare let anyone hear before. I just couldn't help it now. I had to let it out and he refused to leave. Not only that, he was comforting me in the process. I knew that this is weak and isn't right for someone like me. But... it felt right. Nice and friendly and warm.

A second later, I heard a sob erupt from within me and I cried in this uncomfortable position, his head on my shoulder as he hugged me back. I held him tightly to me, as if this would somehow erase all the pain. That it would take away that dream, the pain of my withdrawal, take away these fucking handcuffs.

I wanted to laugh and cry harder at the same time when I felt him lean forward more, pressing me closer to the bed for some reason. I wasn't sure what he was doing but found out soon enough. His arm straining behind me more, I felt my handcuffs move slightly and heard a clicking sound. Soon enough, the metal claw was off my wrist and I heard it clatter to the floor. I felt my once bound hand join my other up around his neck and it felt wonderful to be free from it.

"I shouldn't be crying," I said through my sob. God, I was being so incredibly weak! What am I doing? What am I doing crying - and with this guy?!

"Yes, you should." He whispered lightly and it made me tighten my grasp around him, moving my head so it rested on his shoulder. It was so comforting, nice, and just... there. He was there for me and it was a weird feeling.

As I cried, I felt myself gasp too, a feeling in my stomach and chest making me groan and tense. The pain was coming back to me and it felt good to let it out through crying. However, that didn't mean the pain would just leave. I groaned again and he seemed to have read my mind. He led us to lay on our sides on the bed, my chest against his as I continued to hug him and hold him to me as he did the same, my head in the crook of his neck as his rested on my pillow. His hand on my back gently rubbed up and down in comfort. It was relaxing among all of the pain in me. It helped. He helped.

I wasn't sure how long we laid there, me crying against him. Probably a while since I was crying for a lot of reasons. Sobbing because of the withdrawal, the dream that was so real, the knowledge I would never ever see Emily again. I was crying for the feeling of no control all the time, the fact that I have no life or future. And that I am insane to everyone; that I never had a mother, and that even now, Luke would still be on her side no matter how much he understood me.