"Hey, we're there." I say, nudging her arm. Miley looks up at me, tired.

"Where?" she squeaks. I chuckle deeply.

"At a hotel. Two beds, " I say, with a quick smile.

"Oh, you sure you want to do this?" she asks, nervously.

"Miley, we're just going to rest. I'm not going to hurt you. Lets go." I say, gently. I take some of my things, that can't be hidden, in the car, into the room.

"We have the same room?" she asks, looking at me.

"Two beds." I point. She walks into the room with me following behind. Once inside I lock the door for protection. When I look at the beds she was eyeing me.

"You're locking the door?" she asks.

"For protection. You can still go if you want." I say, climbing into my bed.

"Maybe I will." she says, but she didn't move.

"Alright, Miley." I say,  sarcastically. Shockingly though her shoulders relaxed when I used her name.

"Do you want the light off?" I mutter.

"Do you?" she asks, accusing me of something.

"No, its fine, we'll leave it on." I say, backpedaling. I hear a sigh, and I roll over to look at her. "Hey, you alright?"

"No." she says, simply. She rolls over, turning away from me. Am I that bad or did she have trust issues that dealt with that scar? I roll over to stare at the door, for protection. Another tear falls from my eye, and I think I'm feeling abandonment still. It's not Miley's fault, but maybe I'm meant to be feared. Did mom fear me?