I can't believe I said that to her... What was I thinking?

I was pissed and frustrated at her. How can she stand there, with a bloody hand and act like it's all my fault?

It's that mother fuckers fault who did this to her... Who tortured her for six years!

I'm the one who saved her, the one who had to open up her with a scalpel and make sure she lived. I had to watch over her carefully to make sure her body didn't give out... A few sleepless nights. Just-

I just want her to be okay...

Phoebe whispers something into my shirt, but I don't hear it. Phoebe lets go of me and lays back down on the bed. I take this as my cue to leave her alone and walk outside of the room. When I close the door behind me, McKinley is standing in front of me.

"What was that about?" Kinley asks, making me unsure of what to say.

"It was-"

"And don't say it was nothing, because I have never heard my sister act like that before," Kinley says, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I think you should ask Phoebe. Okay?" I finally say, walking away from her.

"Noah," Kinley says behind me, following me into the living room. "I don't think you understand. Phoebe won't tell us anything. She never has-"

"McKinley- this is between Phoebe and me. I'm sorry you and McKenna had to hear all of that. I promise it won't happen again." I sincerely say, not wanting to make their stay unpleasant.

McKinley sits down on the couch next to me, looking directly at me. She hesitates but finally speaks-

"Phoebe had to grow up fast. She raised Kenna and me, and as you already know, our Mother is an actress and was never home. Our Father tried his hardest to be there for us, but he has his own business to run. So it was just the Nanny and Phoebe." Kinley says, and right now, I am confused at why she is confiding in me. "Mostly Phoebe, since all the Nanny did was cook, clean, and teach Phoebe how to care for us. Then, when she was old enough to stay at home alone, she became our nanny. She taught us everything-" She stops, looking down at her hands and then back at me. "I bet you're wondering why I am telling you all of this, and, well- Phoebe keeps things to herself. She hides how she is truly feeling because Phoebe doesn't want to burden anyone with how she is truly feeling."

Oh, I know that already.

"But, Noah. I can see that her walls aren't there when you're around. She is vulnerable... Which I have never seen in my sister." Kinley stands up, begins to walk away from me and then stops. She looks back at me and says, "I know something is wrong with her, and so does Kenna. She won't tell us, but I hope she can tell you." She leaves me alone in the living room, to let all of this soak in.

I stand up, pacing around the living room a bit. Stopping in front of the window and looking outside at the snow-filled roofs.

I then hear Phoebe yelling on the phone with someone. I quickly rush over, ready to burst through the bedroom door, but I stop myself.

"Mia. I don't think you understand." Phoebe says, annoyed. "Trust me; I want to go. But my- Mia. He is my Doctor. If he doesn't sign off for it, I can't do it!" Phoebe yells I am about to walk away, but then... "Mia- you can't fire me over something medically. I may be Australian, but I know American laws."

She puts the phone on speaker.

"Well, then I recommend you quit. You can't be a Photojournalist and not travel Phoebe. You are-"

"Worthless? Mia, I've known you for years, and you have never once left New York!"

"You're such a-" Mia stops then yells, "You know what, Phoebe. You're fired! Good luck finding a job as a Photojournalist that travel!" Mia hangs up, and Phoebe screams in frustration, throwing things at the wall and onto the floor.

I quickly open the door, grabbing onto her. She is screaming at the top of her lungs in pure rage. She is struggling to get out of my hold, throwing her arms around and kicking. I am smacked in the face once or twice. Until I said-

"Enough!" I yell, picking her up and practically throwing her on the bed. "Phoebe, you're acting like a five-year-old!" I scream, holding down her wrists. She goes to kick me, but I instinctively climb on top of her, holding her down. "If you don't knock this off, I will strap you to this bed and leave you here until the morning." I give her a hard look, making her freeze.

"Kinky." I hear a voice say by the door, and we both look over to see McKenna.

I wanted to get off Phoebe, but right now, I don't think she is in the right mental state to do so. So instead...

"McKenna. Can you please close the door while I take care of your sister?" I ask, making Phoebe give me a "what the fuck" look.

McKenna gives us a disgusted look and closes the door. I feel Phoebe slipping slightly out of my grip, but I apply more pressure to her wrists.

"You want me to strap you to the bed? I have restraints and I'm not afraid to use them." I lean in close, feeling her heavy breath on my face. She shakes her head, looking directly into my eyes. Her cheeks blush and her breathing slows down. "Then tell me why you acted like that."

"I will. Just let-"

"No. Tell me; then I will let go." I interrupt her.

"I got fired."

"I know and I'm sorry." I whisper, "But that doesn't explain why you acted like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum."

"I-" Phoebe stops, trying to move her wrists. "Just get off of me, please." She pleads, starting to get out of my grip.

"Just talk to me, Phoebe. You can't keep closing people off and building up this wall to keep everyone out. Just let me in."

"Just- get off me." Phoebe keeps trying to slide out of my grip. But I shake my head at her. "Fine! Lately, I have been feeling kinda strange."

"What do you mean?" I ask, looking around her face.

"I feel depressed and agitated- about everything. Everything pisses me off and- and I keep waking up every hour, drenched in sweat and I feel like I can't concentrate!"

I let go of Phoebe's wrists, moving my body off of her and sit down at the end of the bed. This all sounds like withdrawal symptoms.

"You have your check-up in two days-"

"I know. But, maybe I am just overthinking. It's probably nothing."

"Phoebe, these sound like withdrawal symptoms. You haven't smoked cigarettes in over two weeks, and you haven't drunk alcohol in four days. Do you have any nausea or anxiety out of the usual? What about headaches?" I ask, and she sits up finally, pulling the covers over her. She doesn't answer me, "Phoebe, I am just trying to help you."

"Noah-" She bites her bottom lip, thinking. "I have all of that and more." Phoebe finally answers, and I nod my head.

"Okay," I nod my head, and she looks into my eyes. "We will get through this, I promise." I place my hand on her leg that is under the covers, and she gives me a hopeful smile.

-

* If you liked this chapter, please consider giving it a vote and answering the questions below. *

-

Hi hi! How are you on this lovely February day? I just got home from a photo shoot, and I am sitting outside under the Florida sunset and finishing up this chapter for you guys. So I hope you enjoyed!

Questions:

1. What do you think of Noah's "dominate" side? Holding Phoebe down and threatening to strap her to the bed... Crazy.

2. Do you like the "dominate" sides of Noah? If not, why?

- Anna