The intense silence seemed to suffocate Rowan in a soft way. It was like being trapped inside a box while playing hide and seek, yet as she looked around she was nothing if not exposed, in no way was she trapped. It wouldn't go away though, no matter how many puzzles she tried to focus her energy on. She pulled a lime green hair band out of her pocket and tugged her hair into a bun atop her head, sighing as a few shorter pieces of left over baby hairs fell around her ears and forehead. There was this little nagging in her head, it was like a small whisper, a light breeze just barely brushing the sensitive skin at the nape of her exposed neck. It didn't speak words, but instead it urged her... letting her know there were a few ways to interrupt her never ending worrying thoughts.

She tried to quiet it, but it wouldn't disappear. She pulled one hand away from the little top she'd been twirling between her fingers and ran it over her face, using it then to slick back her baby hairs but they simply sprung back from her will to their rightful places. As she did so she looked to her arm to find her baggy sleeves were falling back, revealing the marred flesh beneath. One particular cut was deeper than a few surrounding it and her fingers caressed the scar lovingly. Down the river, not across the bridge. It's direction against the others made it seem as if it was a long dagger piercing the old mistakes. It brought her back to a memory she was none too fond of.


Snow fell slowly, not in the elegant way you see in movies but in a more depressing way. It was like the sky was too sad to put any effort in, which was exactly how I felt today. My boots made that hearty crunch sound as I walked, something I always craved in the long summer months. I could feel the inhaled air reach the deepest regions of my lungs and watched in wonder as the toxins my body produced were shoved out into the world, disintegrating to join the toxins created by the rest of the people on Earth. I could see all the signs that it was winter, but I couldn't feel cold. I just trudged on, ignoring the two cars that whizzed by, one managing to splash mushy, muddy snow onto my now sopping wet tights.
I reached for the doorknob to my front door with that ever-present sense of foreboding. It was so ridiculous that I entered this door every other day, knowing what would come to me, but I continued on anyway. Maybe it was wishful thinking, maybe it was just my lack of self preservation. Whatever it was it drove me to twist the knob and step over the threshold.

"Rowan?!" A voice thundered down the hall, not startling me in the slightest.

"WHAT?" I called back, knowing somewhere in the back of my mind that I was only provoking her.

"COME HERE NOW!" She shouted, her voice seeming to make the stained glass in the door-side-panels quiver, though I was pretty sure it was only in my head. Either way I followed the smell of rotting souls down the hall. Not really, the rotting souls were also only in my mind's perception of the woman whose womb I inhabited for six and a half months. In actuality I was sniffing my way to her by use of her own personal scent- a mix of Picardy, menthol cigarettes, and the stale bottle of Channel No. 5 my birth father had given her years ago that, despite what the commercials and price tag claimed, was nothing more than a glorified bottle of rat piss.

I kicked off my muddy boots and soaking wet winter coat, leaving them by the hall closet as I passed by on my trip. "Yes, ma'am?" I breathed out, trying to keep my inhalation through my mouth to avoid the rancid stench of the vomit marinating in the bucket now coming into view as I drug myself into the sitting room where mother was stretched out on the day bed.

"You're late." She seethed, her glossy eyes trying to focus on me through the glaze of alcohol coating them.

"Sorry, Mother." I knew better than to argue, though I had a perfectly reasonable explanation for my tardiness. No amount of explanation would calm her in this state. She'd been in remission for the last eight months but I could see she was getting bad again. She only kept her bucket of sick close by when she knew she was getting bad.

"Don't use that ungrateful tone with me, I am the reason you're even alive." She snapped, tossing her empty bottle so it shattered against the wall behind me.

"You're right. I apologize, Mother." I told her, bowing my head and fighting hard to keep the malice from leaking into my voice. When I raised my head again she was pouting, her bottom lip quivering dangerously as her already glassy orbs pooled with tears. "What can I do for you, Mother?"

"The-- The cabinet." She muttered, her already croaky voice now shaking. I nodded, dropping my bag and kneeling before the bottom shelf of what was once a china cabinet but now served as Mother's personal bar. I pulled the largest decanter out and the nearest scotch glass, lifting them to the nearby buffet table to serve. She liked hers warm, no ice, and it had to fill the glass to two-thirds full exactly. As I popped the glass cork back into the decanter I carried my mother her liquid vice, wearing an unintentional grimace. "I have an appointment tomorrow and Scott's still away, I need you to find a way to get me there. Also, you need to get the bills payed and the house cleaned."

"Yes, Mother." I nodded, trying to log this in my thoughts so that I wouldn't forget to do everything she asked, I knew what could result from my forgetfulness.

"Go do the laundry and clean your room." She sighed, dismissing me as she often did. I nodded again, scooping up my bag hurriedly and rushing from the room before she changed her mind and asked something else of me.

I padded down the hall and up the steep staircase leading to my bedroom. As soon as I reached my bedroom I threw my bag to the floor once again, turning immediately to find Mother's bathroom. My fingers fumbled in her medicine cabinet, knocking over a few bottles of painkillers and migraine meds before clutching the right bottle in my hand. It felt heavy, though I knew it was actually incredibly light, but I chalked it up to what I knew I was about to do.

You could ask me why today was the day but I wouldn't have an answer... In actuality this wasn't 'the day' seeing as this wasn't my first attempt. Today was a day though, just another day, though it would hopefully be my last. I'm not sure how I'd survived as long as I had but I was done trying to get by. This would be it.

My fingers shook violently as I messed with the lid of my ending before it finally clicked down and twisted off. I dumped the majority of the little white devils into my tiny palm and threw them into my mouth, following it with a handful of tap water. I swallowed hard, feeling the pills stretch my oesophagus as they were forced down my throat, followed by two more doses. The pill bottle was empty and slipped from my fingers into the sink, making no sound. I snapped my fingers, again I heard nothing. The only noise was the thundering of my heart as it pounded in my ears. Was this dying? Was this death? I felt my knees shake as they collapsed from beneath me, my bottom hitting the tile. I just sat there, waiting for Death to take me. Yet I felt no different. Please, I took them all, please just take me away from this.

Nothing was changing, I wasn't even drowsy. I screamed, thrashing and pounding my fists on the porcelain trap surrounding me, still hearing nothing. I was done, I shoved myself upright, ignoring the shaking of my weight, and threw my fingers to the back of my throat, forcing myself to expel the pills. It wasn't easy but I finally saw clear liquid dripping from my lips and knew I'd gotten rid of it. This wasn't it for me in this way, but I knew what else I could do.

I dug into the bottom cabinet of the bathroom, yanking out a new razor of Scott's and the little screwdriver I'd hidden amidst my own drawer of stuff before using it to pop apart the contraption with trembling hands. As soon as the metal fell into my palm I could feel a sadistic grin dancing on my lips, making my empty stomach twist with my own odd love for pain. I drug the silver across my arm a few times but felt how silly it was. I was getting nowhere. One more... Down the stream... It stung like hell but there was an equal sense of pleasure. It bled and bled and bled, but never enough. I fell asleep in my quiet world of terribly terrific torture, still unable to attain my desired forever-sleep.


"Ro?" Kellin shook her shoulders lightly, bringing her back to the present. She resurfaced to see him knelt before her, his eyebrows furrowed and a frown weighing down the corners of his lips. "Ro."

She blinked a few times, trying to do something to pull her back into herself. She finally managed to bob her head, letting him know she was with him again. "Sorry."

Kellin's eyes flickered toward the door, drawing Rowan's attention there as well, to see Ms. Greene and Mrs. Bricker watching the two of them intently, Katelynne hanging back a bit and looking in with only concern and care. "S'fine. Ready to go?"

Rowan was a bit surprised to be let off so early, had they come to a conclusion without her? She was dying to know what the answer was but was scared to ask, instead just nodding and pushing herself to stand on her wobbly, skinny legs. The doctor and social worker gazed on as Rowan gripped Kellin's hand and followed him down the hall, Katelynne telling the other women farewell and trailing behind. As soon as they reached the car Rowan could tell something was off, neither of them had yet spoken a word to her and the silence was more terrifying than that of the cheery-cage she'd been locked in earlier. They all buckled in and began the trip away, Kellin finally speaking.

"Rowan, we were thinking we could all go out for lunch, is that alright?" Rowan appreciated that they asked her even though they all knew it wasn't really a decision to make, it'd been made for her. She nodded, terrified to speak. Had she done something wrong? Had she upset them? Did her case workers tell them to get rid of her?

All thought was shoved to the back of her mind as they pulled into the parking lot of some Italian restaurant Rowan was too nervous to remember the name of. It was dark inside, for which Rowan was intensely grateful, and they were led to a table quickly seeing as the place was fairly empty. Katelynne and Kellin sat on one side of the booth with their foster daughter on their opposite. It was still awkwardly quiet amongst them until their waiter arrived to take drink orders.

Rowan's eyes flashed to the young man, maybe seven- or eighteen, with panic, having not even looked at the menu once. He was staring right at her, his green eyes observing her curiously, obviously she'd been asked her order without having herd him. He had tan skin and blonde hair spiked up a bit, his personal style seeming laid-back despite the fact that he was simply wearing black slacks and a white button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbow to expose a small tattoo staining the skin at the base of his right wrist. She realized too late that she's been staring at him and hurried to drop her eyes to her hands in her lap, muttering, "Diet Coke, please."

He must've heard because he told them he'd return and disappeared a moment later. Rowan wasn't interested in him in the least but the mere thought of his eyes boring into her own as they had made her cheeks flame. It felt like he saw right through her in a way that only one other person ever had, Kellin, something that absolutely petrified her. Was she slowly becoming more transparent? Was this brief time of safety she'd been allowed with the Quinn's breaking down her carefully cultivated walls? She was torn from her worry by Kate's soft voice.

"Do you know what you want, Rowan?" She was smiling tightly at Rowan but her eyes weren't showing what she wished to put off, there was still something wrong. Rowan looked to Kellin, trying to decipher what they were hiding, but his expression only worried her more than Katelynne's did. He was so stoic, so flat. In fact, he looked mildly pissed off. Now Rowan was really freaking out. "Anything you'd like?"

Rowan flipped the menu to the last page, finding a column of Kid's food. She just looked at the first thing her eyes landed on and blurted it out, already knowing she'd be repulsed by any food at all. "The, um, kid's chicken strips."

Katelynne nodded and looked back to her own menu, leaving Rowan lost in her own thoughts again. The waiter returned and set their drinks down, flipping open a small pad of paper, "Are you ready to order?"

He hadn't yet looked at Rowan again, maybe she'd been imagining the whole thing to begin with, but scribbled down Kellin's order of manicotti and Katelynne's of vegetarian lasagna. Finally he focused on Rowan again, his emerald orbs locking with hers in a way that startled her into silence. She opened her mouth to speak but shut it as soon as she realized she couldn't properly organize her words.

Kellin cut in, his voice curt, "Kid's chicken strips." The waiter's eyes hadn't left hers but he nodded, jotting it down below the first two without breaking their gaze. Kellin sighed, "Thanks."

The boy, whose name tag identified him as Stefan, must've gotten the hint as he snapped his eyes to Kellin's and offered him a polite smile. "I'll be back then."

Kellin grimaced as the boy strode away calmly, not taking a liking to the fact that he hadn't been intimidated by Kellin's sharp tone. Rowan was trying to find a way to disappear into the cushioned booth, beyond unnerved by Kellin's obvious anger. The silence was unbearable but Rowan couldn't think of a way to break it. Thankfully Katelynne did.

"So Rowan, if you're going on tour you'll need to go shopping. Warped Tour is notorious for the harshness of being unprepared." She tried to chuckle a bit but it fell flat. Still, she'd sparked Rowan's interest.

"I'm going?" She fought hard not to be hopeful but she was sure they could tell anyway, Katelynne broke into her first real smile so far, Kellin only looking up from his glowing cell phone in response before returning his attention to it.

"Um, it's not certain, but I have a good feeling about it." Katelynne said, overall ignoring the look Kellin shot her to tell her to shut up. "That's what you want, right?"

She must've mistaken Rowan's look of surprise and excitement as one of fear or displeasure, Rowan nodded fast, "That's definitely what I want."

Katelynne smiled a little bit, "Great."

The group fell silent once more, all entertaining themselves individually. Kellin was still on his phone, the light from it casting a bluish glow on his set features in a way that made Rowan yet more uncomfortable. Katelynne was on hers as well but she was still smiling a bit, seemingly reading something that pleased her, so Rowan wasn't as concerned. Rowan tried to busy herself with figuring out what they were hiding from her but she couldn't figure anything out and it was frustrating her, she then attempted to distract herself by tracing patterns along her tights, making sure to push down extra hard on the wounds still healing from her last hospital visit. Stefan returned with a tray, setting Katelynne's dish down first, then Kellin's, and finally Rowan's. He then set a plate of dipping sauces next to her chicken and fries then, quite blatantly, stared at her as he spoke.

"Anything else I can get for you all?" His voice was monotoned, deadened, like reading from a paper, but his eyes were still burning into hers.

"We're fine, thanks." Kellin snapped, his phone long gone and his attention pointed directly at Stefan, the latter of whom didn't seem the least bit affected.

"Enjoy." Stefan went on, nodding to them as he stepped away. Rowan's face felt hot as she tried to refocus on her surroundings. Who was that guy to look at her that way? Who was he to act so in control?
Rowan could feel the Quinn's gaze on her, not as intense as Stefan's, but present nonetheless. She hurried to check over her meal. It essentially looked like deep fried, battered, breaded, fat. Rowan's stomach clenched, even the sight of it made her sick. Still she forced herself to pick up one piece of meat, trying to will herself to find it appetizing. Twisting the strip between two fingers she looked up to see Kellin and Katelynne already half finished. Had she been lost in thought that long? She tried to take a bite of food but none of if looked safe. She tore it apart, stripping away the breading and batter, until she held only a sliver of white meat. She chewed it slowly, trying all the while to figure out how she was going to avoid eating. She could sense her foster parents watching her but each time she flicked her eyes up to check she found them preoccupied by their food. She took the opportunity to dust off her hands, letting all of the crumbs fall into the sauces like filthy rain onto an algae-ridden pond.

"Yes?" Stefan's voice made Rowan jump out of her skin, her heart racing as her widened eyes found the waiter's attention to be on Kellin, who'd apparently called him over.

"Can I see the nutrition facts? I'm trying to watch my figure." Kellin sassed, supposedly still under the impression Rowan wasn't paying attention. His joke didn't seem to reach Stefan's notice for the guy barely even blinked.

Stefan walked away, returning no more than a second later with a laminated paper he seemed to have conjured up out of nothing. He offered it to Kellin kindly and left again, not looking Rowan's way once. He was really starting to mess with her head. Kellin was tallying up her calories, Rowan was sure, so she forced herself to swallow a few more pieces of bare chicken and even two french fries.

"Eat the whole thing, Rowan." Kellin said, not lifting his eyes from the paper he studied. Rowan wanted to throw something heavy at him but knew better, this violence being some sort of knee-jerk reaction, she had to be on her best behavior if she wanted to go. She sighed and tore the breading off another chicken strip before forcing it down her throat. She did this once more before moving to her fries. Would they notice if she just didn't eat those? Or if she threw them under the table? She tried that, managing to slip seven or so under the table before either adult noticed. Eventually though she had to eat the last few to make it convincing. Once the plate was nearly empty Rowan could feel that dreaded fullness settling in. "Good job." Kellin encouraged, looking her in the eye for the first time. His expression was kind but distant. It was only a second before his mind was back on the paper. It made her sick though, to even consider what she just eaten, so she tried to think of something else.

"Ugh, I'm so full." Katelynne complained, slumping into the booth a bit and pushing her mostly empty plate away from herself as if that would solve anything.

Kellin didn't respond, too busy with numbers, so Rowan jumped at the chance of a distraction. "You could get the rest to go?" She offered, seeing Katelynne agree absently. "Want me to go ask the waiter for boxes?"

Katelynne smiled fondly, "That'd be great, thanks sweetheart."

Rowan felt her stomach turn with guilt, but she forced herself to smile nonetheless. She slid out of the booth quickly, booking it around the nearest corner. Bathroom. Where would the bathroom be? She scanned the room until she found a sign hanging from the ceiling with directions. She was off again, slamming into the door and stepping into a small foyer area decorated with two vintage-looking chairs and a large, old sofa. All of the furniture was made with dark wood and carved with intricate patterns, topped off with mauve velvet coverings. Rowan raced past the room and found the women's restroom at the far end. She bolted inside, throwing herself into the nearest cubicle and locking the door. She leaned over the toilet but was half disappointed to find she was slowly getting used to food and therefore didn't automatically expel it. She sighed, sinking to the disgusting floor and putting her head in her hands. Was she really doing this? She was finally starting to let the treatment take but would she take steps back so soon? She couldn't stand the thought of what she'd eaten but did she want to disappoint the Quinn's again? If they found out, would she forfeit all hope of the paradisiacal escape the promise of this tour had become? She couldn't stand this amount of thinking, she missed numbness. She propped herself on her knees and shoved two skinny fingers into her mouth, plunging down her throat again and again until she'd rid herself of enough food to be satisfied. She flushed and hurried from the stall, washing her hands and mouth as best she could, still unable to wash away the guilt of what she'd just done. Where was that lack of feeling when she needed it!? Rowan's thoughts then rushed on to the one thing she trusted most in the world. Her razor. As she bent to her extract the metal from her tape-boot hiding place she realized she'd momentarily forgotten that'd been taken from her. All of them had. What else could she use? She looked around herself but found it disappointingly bare of potentially harmful objects.

Rowan pushed herself upright shakily, stumbling from the room and into the small sitting area. Surely old furniture such as this would hold a million little death-trap safety hazards. She dropped to her knees again, probably wearing holes in her leggings as she drug them across the ugly hunter green carpet, and ran her hands along the base of the couch, only finding splinters lodged in her fingers in the way of harmful objects. She was rudely interrupted by the door at the far end opening and a figure walking in. She blew her dark tresses out of her eyes only to find Stefan walking her way. She panicked, hauling ass to sit in one of the lumpy chairs. Her cheeks were ablaze, had he seen her? Had he made the connection of who she was? He couldn't know, she'd be dead if he told the Quinn's she was in the bathroom alone. She buried her face in her knees, drawing them to her chest in an attempt to hide the sharp movements of her all-too-visible ribs as they heaved with gasping breath. She just had to wait till he left, then she'd hurry back to the table.

'Come on,' she pleaded, 'just leave'. But as she peeked through her locks he was still there, now sat on the couch across from her, one foot set atop his opposite knee and his phone in his hands. She studied him, watched how calm he was. When was the last time she felt that calm? He seemed so relaxed, his head lolling back a bit as his gaze found the stucco ceiling before refocusing on the shining screen in his hand. She could see his tattoos better now, he had a few on his hands -tiny, like Kellin's- and others dotting his arms, still not yet sleeves. The one that'd caught her eye earlier, one on the pale skin on the inside of his wrist, was currently obscured from her view. She unintentionally huffed, she wanted to see it again and he was making that difficult. She noticed too late that she'd been too loud. His eyes lazily slid up from his cell to meet hers. She immediately wanted to look away but it was impossible.

She almost screamed in shock when his voice broke the previously peaceful quiet, "Hey."

She hitched her chin up, acknowledging the greeting. 'Leave now, just leave.' Apparently he wasn't fluent in Telepathy, because he was still just staring back at her.

"Are you waiting for someone?" He asked, but his voice held no curiosity, like he already knew the answer. She shook her head, what was she doing then? She should've just said yes. "What're you doing then?"

What business was it of his? "I could ask you the same." She snapped.

He shrugged nonchalantly, "I'm on break." Duh, she'd been overreacting, he wasn't there for her at all then. "Oh, and your parents asked me to look for you." He added in an offhand tone. So she did have a reason to panic. "You should go back to them."

"I'll do what I damn well please, thanks." She quipped, her menacing words not having the right impact what with her shaking voice and all. Her stomach felt comfortingly empty, the heat inside gently reminding her of what exactly she'd just done. She really shouldn't be allowed to do as she pleased, all she enjoyed was pain. No. All she knew was pain, but she was hoping it wasn't all she'd ever know. But if she was so anxious to get better why did she consciously worsen herself daily?

"You really don't need to do this." He told her flatly, eyes back on his phone. Her stomach lurched, could he read her mind?

"Wh-- What?" She spat out, now she was burning holes in his skull.

"I know what you're doing. You shouldn't." He informed her simply, there was the hint of a shrug in his words, as if it just was.

"You don't know anything." She told him, knowing without a doubt that it was true, he knew nothing. Hell, her relationship with Kellin was the closest she'd been to another person in years and even he didn't know all of her secrets.

"Oh, but I do." He finally stashed the cell in his pocket, situating himself so that both feet were flat on the floor and he was leaning his elbows onto his knees, his mossy orbs burning into her own oceanic ones. "I've been you. And now I'm me. And you can be me too, if you stop."

It wasn't cheesy, not like most 'you're beautiful, be strong' speeches. Not the way he did it. It felt like she was talking to someone she'd known, loved, and trusted all her life. A feeling she'd never have the luxury of knowing. Her heart carved a cavern in her chest and her breaths came in shallow pants, did he really know? How could anyone? No one could possibly fathom the things she'd endured, surely. But, was it about undergoing the experiences themselves, or just knowing -from one hurting human to another- what it was to be totally stranded in a sea of painful panic? If the case was that depression was universal, no matter the level of depth, then maybe he could understand. But he looked fine, happy, healthy... She knew, from the few times she'd forced herself in front of the metallic death-trap some called a 'mirror', that she looked the farthest thing from healthy or happy. She felt ill-equipped to deal with the frankness with which he spoke or the x-ray vision he seemed to dominate. "You're wrong."

"Okay." He replied, not one single ounce of actual agreement in his voice. He knew that she knew that he knew. They were both aware that they had this thing in common. "You should still go back."

She wanted to deny that, to stay just for the principle of the thing, to prove she didn't need controlling, but in truth he was right. She did need to go back. That didn't stop her from shooting him a glare as she stood, wobbling a bit on the spot before righting herself, or flipping him the bird out of eye-line as she left. He might've seen her gesture nonetheless because she heard a low chuckle bounce off the walls in her wake and she imagined him smirking. She paused at the door, "And we want to-go boxes."

As she arrived at the table again she realized she hadn't checked her reflection before leaving the bathroom. She tried not to panic, looking in the almost mirror-like reflection framed near their booth to find her hair a mess, her eyes wild and bloodshot, and her lips cracked. Fine, nothing out of the ordinary for her, but would they notice? She slid into her seat cautiously, keeping her eyes downcast as long as she could before it just got awkward. She was forced to look up, plastering on her best smile, to find Katelynne looking distraught and Kellin almost angry.

"He said he'll get them for us." She told them hoarsely, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth as she finished talking. It burned her throat and she could still feel the remnants of stomach acid bubbling near her esophagus. She tried to surreptitiously clear her throat but knew it was no use. They all knew she'd failed again. She hesitantly lifted her heavy lids again to find Kellin now looking nothing short of heartbroken, Katelynne similarly disappointed. "I--" But no words seemed adequate. She'd done it again, she'd fucked up. How many more times would she do this before she learned her lesson? Before they kicked her out on her ass as she deserved? "I'm sorry." She murmured lowly, her voice still gravely.
No words were exchanged as they waited for the ticket to return. Kellin paid and there was yet another wave of guilt crashing within her, battering her from the inside out. How much longer could they put up with her screwed up head? Even Rowan had grown to hate herself over the years, how much more time would pass before they did too? She was just a burden on them. She knew that. She should just end it and get out of their way before they spent anything else on her, be it their time or money or affection. She knew she wasn't worth any of it. She felt as if she should apologize but if she were to say sorry for all of the things she felt she should they would coming pouring out of her lips like the bile she so often let flood from her stomach.. So she kept her lips sealed, that was how she functioned best. Neither of the Quinn's spoke either, not even responding to the idle chat the new waitress who brought their boxes and check during Stefan's break made. The walk to the car? Quiet. The drive home? Silent. The awkward moment where they all hesitated at the front door, waiting for someone else to go in first? Deathly void of words.
As she headed to her bedroom she felt someone following her and, based on the musky cologne wafting her way, Rowan assumed it to be Kellin. Right, she couldn't be alone. They reached the room together and Rowan went directly to sit on the end of the bed, Kellin hesitating. He ended up lingering by the dresser for lack of a better place to be, watching his foster daughter. After what felt an eternity, Kellin's voice broke it.

"What happened, Rowan? I thought you wanted-- I thought..." But Kellin couldn't finish his sentence.
Rowan's mouth fell open, as if by going through the motions words would magically appear. They didn't, so she forced out what she could.

"I do. I want to get better. I-- I think." She wasn't meant to say that. Fuck.

Kellin didn't look angry, but there was this intense flash of hurt behind his eyes before he reigned it in. His voice sounded lifeless, "You think?"

"I know. I meant to say I know. I-- I do. I want to get better." She rambled, tripping over her own words in her haste to bandage the wound she'd verbally inflicted. "I just..."

No words could fix this, but at the same time, she couldn't even tell what she was trying to fix. Kellin sighed, running a hand along the nape of his neck and walking over to join her on the bed. "Are you tired?" She shrugged. She couldn't tell anymore. Her exhaustion was bone deep, she knew no amount of rest could cure that, but it couldn't hurt to try.

She crawled further onto her bed, kicking off her boots and shrugging out of her hoodie. Kellin took the hoodie from where she'd tossed it and the boots from the floor and placed them nicely on her desk whilst Rowan shook her way out of her tights. She dipped under the covers, feeling the odd sensation of comfort as she was wrapped in something that she knew couldn't harm her. Kellin paused, as if debating whether to leave or not, before shuffling back to the bed. He sat at the top, leaning back against a pillow, and kicking off his own, beat up, Vans sneakers. He felt strange, like he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Had she angered him that much? Finally he sighed, slumping into the headboard and placing one hand atop her hair. She unintentionally curled into him, laying her head on his lap and letting him push her hair back. She needed that sense of comfort but at the same time she felt as if she didn't deserve it, as if she were some sort of two-timing husband screwing the secretary at work before coming home to a carefully-prepared meal of his favorite seafood dish. As her eyes fluttered closed she thought of just how sexist her own brain was, why did she assume it had to be a man who was fucking the secretary? Hot male secretaries existed for deceitful woman bread-winners to fuck, right? Then again, she hated males with a burning passion. Aside from Kellin. Or Vic. Or Jesse, Jack, Gabe, or Justin... Wow. Had she really let herself open up to that many men? That was impossible.

Panic seized her, making every muscle in her body lock, this was simply not possible. Too many people. She couldn't allow herself to let that many men in. She had to eliminate some of them. Vic? No, Vic... there was something about him that she couldn't pretend didn't exist, whether she liked it or not she trusted him. Kellin, that wasn't even a question. She's spent the past week in constant contact with him and, despite herself, couldn't will away the fact that she cared for him so. The men in her foster father's band, though? What about them? Jesse had been good to her, he didn't observe her as if she were some science phenomena, she couldn't not like him. Jack then? Jack had been kind but was still the one she knew least, she felt as though she could train herself to push him away. Gabe, like Jesse, had been welcoming. He'd even gone so far as to offer her lessons. He was here to stay. Justin? He was... catty. He was witty and bold and Rowan admired that, but shouldn't it be all the more reason to back away? People who like to make jokes inevitably used something of your faults as a punch-line, right? So he might be another contender to vote off the island. She decided she'd focus more on it later, all of her thinking had slowly pulled her closer to the brink of exhaustion.

The last thought she fully processed was that of the hopelessness present in her. A feeling that it was all for not, that it was no use. She was fucked up to the core, and anyone who'd tried to salve that ravaged part of her being would only be drug down with her in her sinking ship.

---

Kellin lounged in the living room a few hours later, trying hard to find a comfortable position for himself but discovering it was his thoughts that kept him from finding that place of peace. She did want to get better, didn't she? Surely. But he understood her having mixed feelings. Her self-destructive addictions had been a sickly sort of security blanket for so long, the only thing she could count on to be consistent. It would be terrifying if someone told him he had to give up singing, even given the threat that he could die if he continued, he'd probably fight to the bitter end to have one hand on that shred of security. But that was just it, singing was something that gave him solace, something that saved him from being exactly like Rowan. She needed that, she needed something positive to go to when things were tough. But what? Art? That was something she enjoyed. But was it something she enjoyed enough to rescue her from her current state of decay? It was worth a shot.

He turned up the volume of the movie he halfheartedly watched, Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. It still couldn't drown out the loud thoughts raging through his head. She'd thrown up again. Purged. The word made him cringe, he hated it with ever fiber of his being. In fact, he hated every word that meant that little girl harm. Purge, starve, cut, abuse, rape, malicious mother, fucked up father... Cancer. Cancer he hated most of all. He just wished the dreadful disease would take a hint and realize no one wanted it around anymore. He wanted to just grab up his wife and daughters and run from that horrid word. Better yet, he wanted to go back in time and steal Rowan away on the day of her birth and rescue her from what was to come. He knew, though, that all of this was a waste. It was impossible to run away, or go back in time, but he was sure as hell going to take damn good care of his girls nevertheless.

The sound of their front door opening and closing softly let him know his wife'd probably just taken the trash out. What would come next for all of them? He knew now that he'd most likely be poised to puncture Rowan's already perforated skin with a syringe full of medication come the next day. That'd been the deal. They were instructed to see if she could keep one day's worth of food down and report the results to the clinic so they could determine whether or not injections were their best bet. The Quinn's were also instructed to keep the plan to themselves so she didn't falsely report good results and hide the real issues just to avoid shots. He hadn't exactly lied to Rowan but he sure felt like it, his guilt weighed on him heavily. Obviously, based on this little experiment, needles were their only current option. It sickened him. But at the same time, maybe this could be it. Maybe she just needed medication. He hoped, and begged and prayed and wished, that it could save her. Possibly the knowledge that she would be better with the meds could carry him through the terror of giving a shot.

Katelynne's body sunk into the couch right beside his, her head laying against his shoulder, appearing so suddenly that Kellin almost jumped. He chuckled, letting his arm fall around her shoulder and playing with her fingers as he spoke, "Geez, Kay, you scared me. I didn't hear you come back in."

"Hmm," She hummed, leaning into him more, "come back in from where?"

"From taking the trash out." He told her, worried this tampered memory thing was getting worse. A side effect of her treatment was a thing commonly referred to as 'Chemo Brain', which was basically a way of saying her thoughts were getting clouded as the medicine reached her brain. She couldn't really drive and she'd forget plans or random words on occasion. Luckily, Chemo Brain only stayed around as long as she was on this med which would only be a few more weeks. Still, it'd never been this bad before. Forgetting something she'd only just done? That'd never happened before.

"I didn't take out the trash, Kell." She told him simply, her focus mainly on the scene where Frodo and Sam run into Marry and Pippin in the corn field.

"Then... who went out the door?" He didn't want to embarrass her or call her a liar but maybe if he let her admit it on her own she'd realize he was telling the truth.

"I don't know. No one? I've been in my studio." She said, yawning a bit.

"Hold on." He told her, lightly wiggling himself free and hurrying down the hall. Something didn't sit right with him, something felt wrong. He came first to Copeland's room but it was of course silly to check seeing as Cope was at her grandparents' house. He rushed on, next checking Rowan's room. There was no door but he had to flick on a light to see the room anyway. As he did so he blinked. No. Couldn't be. The room was empty. He ducked in to check her bathroom but it too was vacant. So it'd been Rowan who left? Or was taken. A thousand horrible scenarios overtook his thoughts right away, making his heart slink down into his stomach. His feet were moving before he even realized where he was headed.

"Kellin?!" Kate called, apparently hearing his pounding footfalls.

"I'll be right back!" He shouted back, not even giving himself a moment to really think as he threw open the front door and ran down the driveway. He paused for a second at the sidewalk, which way? Where would she go? He didn't have a clue but before he processed another thing he found himself drawn to the left. His sock-covered feet slapped the pavement haphazardly as he discovered he was headed for the local park. It was warm outside but there looked to be clouds over head, blocking the sunlight from being so direct but also adding a constricting mugginess to the evening air. Even still Kellin was chilled to the bone.

The first few drops of hot rain fell onto his shoulders, the ominous weather still being the least concerning thing. Where would she go? Or... where would she be taken? Why would she want to run away? What had he done? It was all his fault, he shouldn't have been so cold at lunch, he hadn't meant to but he had worried if he spoke at all he'd tell her everything. The rain wet the sidewalk beneath his feet, cooling it by a fraction though the heat was still blistering on his socks, mostly just making it feel as though he were taking a hot shower in his clothes. The park came into view as he jolted around a corner, clipping his hip on a communal trashcan and limping toward the grass. It had, of course, begun to disolve into green and brown mush. His socks squelched through the mulch fervently, not hesitating in his gait even as he felt his foot sink into a puddle.

Finally he saw the silhouette of a child running in the rain. 'That could be anyone's kid', he tried to reason, not wanting to get his hopes up, but as he got closer he saw it to be a bare-footed, bare-legged little girl with drenched brown curls wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt. It was Rowan. He would've sighed in relief had his lungs not been otherwise occupied.

"ROWAN! ROWAN STOP!" He called, watching as she neared the opposite side of the park that lead in one direction to a duck pond and in another to a major street. She didn't even falter, not even looking back to see who called her. Was she that angry? "I'M SORRY, ROWAN! RO! JUST STOP!" But it was no use, she was long past caring apparently. He pushed himself harder, putting every ounce of dwindling energy into catching up to her. The closer he got the more concerned, she was shaking all over, her movements jerky and stiff as she pounded the mud furiously. "Rowan!"

"No!" She screeched, still not even looking back, "I WON'T! I WON'T!"

Won't what? He didn't ask, clearly she was upset. "Please, Rowan!"

She was still a few paces ahead, drawing ever closer to the edge of this safe zone and toward dangers. He felt his body aching, telling him to stop, he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a full night's sleep and of all times it was wearing on him now. She mustn't have seen the little sprinkler head sprouting up from a dip in the ground for she tripped just slightly, giving Kellin a window of opportunity. He seized it, throwing himself forward and grabbing what he could reach, one arm. She jerked away, still not looking at him, but he was too determined. He reached for her more, able to pull her far away from the sidewalk and onto the mushy grass, both of them falling back. He landed in a sitting position, unintentionally tugging her to land before him. He yanked her closer, relief washing over him as he pulled her back to his chest, hugging her as he realized she was okay. She was alive. She was here. No matter why she'd run he would save her, he'd try to fix whatever had upset her. But as he looked at the shaking child in his arms he found her eyes to be glued shut, her face coated in tears and her fists clenched. She fought against him, still not looking at him, by pounding her fists into his chest, eventually resorting to trying to scratch him wherever she could reach. Kellin flinched but wasn't concerned with his own pain, more so worried with what was causing this.

"Rowan. Row--" He grabbed her fists with each of his own hands, keeping her back against his chest and wrapping her up in herself, inhibiting her from moving, "Rowan, I'm sorry. Okay? Will you just look at me?" But she hadn't opened her eyes, he was growing frustrated until he noticed she was sobbing, making him hug her tighter, "It's okay, Ro, it's okay. You're gonna be okay. I promised, didn't I? And I mean it. I won't stop 'till you're okay. Better than okay. You'll be amazing. I love you, Rowan, and I'm not going to give up on you. Not now, not ever." And then, all of a sudden, her breaths even out and she slumped back against him limply. She was... sleeping? "Fuck." He muttered, his head falling back as rain washed over his face, masking his own tears of fear and frustration he hadn't even noticed till now. She'd been asleep the whole time. Her night terrors. He'd forgotten about them completely. This had all been some giant nightmare to her. He was torn between waking her and letting her sleep, he wasn't sure what you were supposed to do in this sort of situation, he was no professional. He let one of her hands go and swiped the rain and tears from his eyes so as to get a better look at her. She looked so pale, drained, destroyed. He couldn't. He didn't have the heart to wake her. For some reason she'd calmed and he wasn't about to disrupt that. It took a bit of maneuvering but he was able to cradle her in his arms as if she were a baby and stand up, later he'd wonder how he ever managed that but at the time he couldn't care less about his inhuman ability.

He began to walk home, the rain not letting up even though the sun still heated the world brightly. It was a terrible mix. It seemed a much longer path on his journey back than it had when he'd set out, had she really gone that far that fast? Had he been carrying someone of a normal weight his arms might've hurt by now but because of her lack of weight lifting her was actually easier than doing the same for a squirming Copeland. In fact, Rowan felt lighter than she had only a week ago. Was that possible? For her to have lost weight? He supposed so, which only petrified him further. He reached the front door and shoved the bell with his elbow, seeing his wife appear a moment later with wide eyes and clear worry. She locked gazes with him quickly.

"Oh thank God, you scared the shit out of me. I--" But she'd just then realized what was going on, her mouth immediately going dry as she hurried out of the way and allowed Kellin and Rowan in, shutting –and locking– the door in their wake. "What the hell?" She asked, following her sopping wet husband and foster daughter through the hall and toward Rowan's bedroom.

Kellin didn't answer but they both understood it was because there was too much to say just now. He waited until they were in her bedroom, "Grab me a few towels please."

Katelynne nodded, switching into mother-mode and hurrying to Rowan's bathroom where she gathered a stack of clean towels. She returned and helped Kellin bundle Rowan in a towel like swaddling a newborn. He jutted his chin toward the bed and Kate got it, laying out two spare towels atop her bedding to keep it clean before Kellin set the sleeping child onto the linen-covered mess. He took the last towel from Katelynne's outstretched hand and began to daub at the wetness on his face and hands. His eyes never left Rowan, as if by looking away she'd disappear. He finally slumped to the floor beside her bed, still dabbing himself dry as Kate joined him on the ground.

"You wouldn't have believed it. It was like something out of a movie. It was so scary." He told her, his bloodshot eyes still hardwired to the sleeping girl.

"What happened?" Kate asked, hearing even in her own voice how shaky they both spoke.

"Night terror. I'd– I'd totally forgotten about them, I'm a terrible father..." His throat felt constricted, as if hands were squeezing his windpipe closed.

"That's not true. You're human. You're already doing so much for her, for Cope, for me--" She cut herself off, ignoring Kellin's open lips as he prepared to protest, "I know you say it's no big deal, or whatever, but it is. You do so much for so many, Kellin. It's inevitable that you slip up on something. That's okay. You were able to help her anyway. You were able to stop her before something really bad happened, right? That's what matters."

Kellin didn't tell her that he was quite sure the 'something really bad' was long past a worry, that Rowan had dealt with 'really bad' plenty of times with no one to help. He just nodded. "I'm gonna stay with her till she wakes up, okay? I don't want her to be scared--"

"Go clean up, Kell, she'll be okay. I'll stay with her, just go wash quickly so that when she wakes up you'll be there, all calmed down and ready to talk. Okay?" She loved that he cared so much, just as she did, but Katelynne knew her husband was wearing himself thin and needed to give himself a moment to relax if he expected himself to be the strong one for Rowan's sake. He looked apprehensive but agreed in the end.

He moved quickly, taking what was probably the fastest shower of his life even with his stinging scratches Rowan left behind in her sleepy stupor, before sliding into pajama pants and hurrying back to Rowan's room without even drying his dripping hair. Katelynne chuckled fondly at his disheveled appearance and shook her head teasingly, wrapping her arms around his still-damp torso and kissing his warm lips before leaving. Kellin's heart was still racing, what would this mean? Would it ruin the chances of Rowan joining him on tour? Would it mean her to finally have to go into some institution? He shuddered at the thought of coming home from tour to visit her in some white-walled mental ward. She deserved better. He sat beside her on the bed, his back against her headboard as he ran his fingers through her muddy hair. She turned her head toward him in her sleep, mumbling a bit before shifting so that her head was on his thigh and falling again into slumber. He couldn't help the sad smile that tugged at the corner of his lips, she was still the same girl who'd stood up for him in therapy and wittily snapped back in their game in the cafeteria. The same girl he'd carried to the PICU.

He began to hum, words slowly filtering in one by one as he watched her peaceful features, her feather-duster eyelashes fluttering and her pink lips parted a bit in her blissful state.

'Here in this world I’m awaked with mistakes,
But it's love that keeps fueling me,
Fueling me.
Pretty little lady with your swollen eyes,
Would you show them to me?
I know I’m not that perfect,
But you stay awhile
Baby, then you will see.'

She didn't look so scared now, only calm and comforted. Kellin just wished he could find a way to make her always feel just this. Just safe. This poor little girl often couldn't even find comfort or escape in her sleep, how was that fair?

'Miles away I can still feel you,
Lay your head down on my embrace,
My embrace.
Far away…
Pretty little lady with your swollen eyes,
Would you show them to me?'

Would she ever find that peace? Would she ever just come to him and tell him she needed help? He wanted her to smile. That's all. Just smile that genuine smile he could only sometimes find a shadow of on her lips. Was that so much to ask? He loved this little girl as if she were his own and, without even realizing it, she was. She was more his daughter than she had even been someone's daughter before. Would that bond be enough to hold them together through this?

Notes

Shout outs:
ConsiderMeDead
Cindii 182
XxRaven_Marie_BlackxX
sleepingwithkatie
Tayana

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!
So here we are. I wish I could've given you all something better for a first update of the year but I felt it was important to show that she failed the given 'task' so to speak, and I wanted to give you a peek into Rowan's past and how that might com back to bite her in the future.

Also, no, Stefan will not be a lead character, he was just a like tool I guess for this particular chapter. Also, I wanted to make sure it was clear that there was no sexual connection between the two of them. In fact, Rowan isn't attracted to(and vice versa) ANY of the characters so far introduced.

ANYWAY, I've go the venue list and band list for the Warped Tour I've created for the story so far, and I HAVE BEEN READING YOUR SUGGESTIONS!! You'll have to see who ends up on the tour when Rowan does ;) (please don't throw me off a bridge, I promise that if you comment a band you really want that I'm reading it!!) Any more submissions? I'm still accepting requests! (It's the supposed 20th year, which obviously hasn't happened yet and is therefore totally fictional).

Do you think Rowan will be strong enough to go? Or be left behind? Tell me what you think.

Okay, thank you.

I hope we're all going to rock 2014 but if you aren't feeling too hot or just need someone to listen I'm always here. Comment, message me, etc.

-MM