Carter woke to the sound of her father already moving about the apartment. A renewed stab of shock hit her, as the night before came back to her in full force. With a cutting pain in her chest, she listened as her father's even tread walked from one room to the next. The sound stopped outside her door. A gentle knock came.

"Sarge," he said. "You awake?"

Carter gave no answer as she flung aside the blankets and stood up. She knew he would hear the sound of her bare feet on the floor and have his answer. After a second, he walked away. Through getting ready, Carter managed to avoid seeing him. The smell of frying eggs and partially burned toast drifted through the apartment, but she took no notice of it.

Once she was done, she walked out to the living room. Her father had his back to her as pulled on his black suit jacket. At the sight, she had the feeling that someone had broken through her chest and was squeezing her heart in their hand. Before he could notice her, she made for the door. He turned, hearing her.

"I have breakfast for you," he said, stalling her.

"Not hungry."

She felt as if her stomach had been replaced by rope tangled in million tiny knots. The thought of eating seemed impossible. She reached for the door.

"I can give you a ride," her father said.

"I'm fine."

"Carter, you can't shut me out."

She twisted back to him, her face hard.

"I thought you knew that children learn all their habits from their parents."

She opened the door and was halfway out when her father's words stopped, her dead in her tracks.

"I love you, Sarge," he said, his voice quiet.

She titled her back towards him, as an invisible enemy used her heart as a punching bag.

"No, you don't," she said. "If you did you wouldn't be doing this."

She slammed the door shut and hurried down the stairs. Her father didn't call after her. The day was overcast, a bank of eerie clouds looming on the horizon. The neighborhood seemed subdued, the surrounding apartments silent. As she entered the alley, Maggie appeared. Carter's expression turned to stone, her battered and bruised heart shrinking away.

"He's inside," she said, before Maggie could speak.

Sliding her hands into her pockets, she kept moving forward without looking at Maggie. Maggie stepped into her path.

"I'm here to talk to you," she said.

Carter looked at her, all her emotions battling it out in her eyes.

"That's new," she said, her voice cold.

Maggie reached for Carter, but rethought it and retracted her hand.

"Carter," she said. "This isn't fair. You know I couldn't tell you."

"Nothing is fair," Carter said, her tone hard as rock. "I thought life would have taught you that by now. I'm just relearning that myself. I have a friend who betrayed me and a father who is once again a human bullet proof vest." Her eyes turned furious. "So life isn't fair and you're complaining to the wrong person."

She left Maggie frozen to the spot. Her thoughts stormed as she made her way to school. The world seemed to dim around her, as her emotions consumed her and started to suffocate her.

Expensive, sleek cars passed her as she walked through the front gates. More white vans had joined the collection by the side of the school. Muscled men with gruff voices called out to each other as they unloaded another layer of supplies.

The air hummed with voices as Carter climbed the steps. Rumors flew like tiny birds, carrying snippets of information on their wings. The names of a supreme court judge and a former CIA director had been tossed about as the following day's big appearances.

Carter pivoted and shouldered her way through the dense crowd of students. Gossip was handed out, like paper notes, in lowered voices accompanied by smirks and side long glances. Everything around Carter seemed heightened, as if all noise of the world were beating against her eardrums. New waves of emotion washed over her as her brain continually replayed her father's words.

"I signed back on with the secret service for two more years."

She felt as if pieces of her were cracking and breaking away, her emotions too raw to touch or try to untangle. She balled her fists, trying to hold herself together. A part of her felt liking screaming and hitting the closest object, regardless of whether it was human or inanimate. The other part wanted to curl into a ball and hide from the world and her new reality.

Her nerves finally snapped when Lucas crossed her path, a taunting grin already in play. It took everything in her to hold herself back from knocking him out, simply for his look.

"Owens," he said, "punch anyone lately?"

"Is that an invitation?" she said, her words clipped.

He barked out a mocking laugh.

"You know what your problem is?" he said.

"Currently it's the sad excuse for a human being in front of me."

His lips curled into a patronizing smile.

"You think you're above everyone else, but really you're just the daughter to the President's throw away human shield."

Before Carter's fist could make contact with Lucas, a sharp voice called her name.

"Carter!"

Fingers still clenched, she lowered her hand, staring daggers at Lucas. His smirk widened, until Donovan took a spot beside Carter.

"How's the jaw?" he asked, looking at Lucas.

There was still fading signs of Donovan's right hook along Lucas's jaw line. Lucas tensed but didn't move. He locked eyes with Carter.

"It seems you still have a master," he said.

This time Donovan wasn't fast enough.

Carter punched Lucas, a loud crack sounding out as her fist collided with his cheek bone. His head jerked to the side and he stumbled into a group of Juniors. A couple girls gasped and heads turned to the scene. Questions started flying, their old gossip tossed aside in the light of the event.

Donovan quickly grabbed Carter's arms and held her back from going at Lucas again. But his hold wasn't necessary. The fight had left her, her need to lash out mollified. One hand cupping his jaw, Lucas looked at her, shocked.

"I guess that changes my answer to your original question," Carter said.

"I'll have you expelled for this," he snarled.

"And what will you do when I tell the principal who has been dealing steroids in the boys locker room?"

"You have no proof," Lucas said, but his words lacked confidence.

Carter stared at him, her eyes challenging. "Try me."

Before he could respond the group, that had formed around them, split. Principal Withers, fighting back a look of severe anger, walked forward. Donovan instantly let go of Carter's arms. Principal Withers glanced between Lucas's face and Carter's scowl. He pointed to them.

"You two with me," he said.

Without looking back at Donovan, Carter followed Mr. Withers as hundreds of eyes followed her. Lucas grudgingly walking with her. She turned to him.

"You press charges and I will destroy your future with the things I know," she hissed.

Lucas's only response was a deathly glare. As Principal Withers directed them to his office, the bell rang, sending students moving to classrooms. He pinned in his password and opened the door for them.

"Sit," he said, the word clipped.

Both Lucas and Carter sat down in the two chairs before his desk. He took up a position behind his leather chair, his hands gripping the back. For a long minute, he stared at them.

"Mr. Benton," he said. "What part did you play in this ordeal?"

Lucas opened his mouth, but Mr. Withers talked before he could.

"Let me remind you, son, that there was a hallway full of eye witnesses. I do not have time for falsities. If you lie to me I will see that you receive a punishment equal to Miss Owens. Now, what role did you play?"

Lucas closed his mouth and slouched in his chair, his look petulant. Mr. Withers tightened his hold on the chair.

"Respond Mr. Benton, or I will assume you physically assaulted Miss Owens and she was merely defending herself."

Lucas sat bolt up right.

"I didn't touch her!" he yelled, waving a hand towards Carter.

"Then what, pray tell, did you do to bring about this altercation?"

Lucas seemed to sag, his eyes still fiery with defiance. He ground his teeth, biting back his words. Carter didn't even bothering to look at him. His gaze flickered to her, his look menacing.

"I insulted her," he said, through clenched teeth.

Mr. Withers nodded. "Very well."

He shifted his gaze to Carter, his gray eyes burning with frustration.

"Miss Owens," he said, "was I not clear when I said that a second infraction could result in suspension or expulsion?"

"You were very clear, sir," she said, her voice lacking any note of submission.

"I also remember a meeting with your father, where he promised me this sort of occurrence would not happen again."

Pain burst in Carter's chest.

"Well, he's breaking a lot of promises lately so don't think you're special," she said, pain undercutting her words.

Mr. Withers stared at her, seeming to read more than she wanted him too. She crossed her arms, shielding herself.

"Is he available to take my call?" he asked.

"Not likely, he's probably with the President."

Carter knew it wasn't true but in her mind that's where she saw him. Right beside the President, a single step away from diving in front to take the hit.

Mr. Withers nodded. "I see."

He turned to Lucas. "Mr. Benton, I'm assigning you a weeks worth of detention-"

"What?!"

"-starting next Monday. Don't skip it or I will make your last five weeks of school here unbearable. Good day, close the door on your way out."

Lucas stood up and marched out of the office, slamming the door. Mr. Withers didn't flinch at the sound, seeming accustomed to the dramatics. He shifted his attention back on Carter. In his eyes she could see understanding and sympathy, neither things she cared for at the moment.

"Miss Owens," he said, "how is your father's recovery process going?"

The question threw Carter off guard. "Fine."

"I understand that having such an event happen to someone-"

Carter stood up, cutting him off. A new flare of anger coursed through her. An anger towards someone who seemed to care more than those she trusted.

"I do not want your pity or sympathy," she said, trying to rein in her emotions. "I understand that punching Lucas was out of line. I didn't do it without just cause, but I know it was an error. If you can just give me my punishment, I have a chemistry class to get to."

Mr. Withers studied her with old eyes. Even as the words came out, he seemed to understand what lay beyond them, years of looking over students sharping his intuition.

"Alright," he said. "Have a good chemistry class, Miss Owens. I think you've had enough punishment with Mr. Benton's insults, whatever they might have been."

Carter stared at him, baffled by his words. He waved a hand towards the door.

"I believe you have somewhere to be, Miss Owens, as I have preparations for a Career day to oversee."

Carter nodded dumbly and walked to the door. She opened it but paused as Mr. Withers voice.

"Miss Owens," he said. She looked back. "This is not a free pass that you will have again. Assault another student again and I will have you expelled." He smiled. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

Without a word, Carter closed the door and left the office. The hallways were empty, a low hum of voices coming from behind closed doors. Outside was darkening as a thicker layer of clouds overran the sky. By the time that Carter rounded the corner to her classroom, the flare of anger had died down to smoldering embers.

She stopped short at the sight of a man in a black suit standing outside the chemistry. Her thoughts instantly jumped to her father. But the man turned and she realized it was Smith. He sent her a nod and continued listening to his phone.

"Yes, sir. I understand," he said. He glanced at his watch. "I will. Same to you, Mr. President."

He hung up as Carter walked forward.

"Mason alright?" she asked.

"He is."

Carter gave a nod then reached for the door handle.

"Carter, I heard about your father," he said. She froze, her stomach twisting. "It's an honorable thing that he is doing."

She couldn't look at him, all the air leaving her chest in one single breath as if she had been punched.

"Many men in his situation would not be so brave to sign up for two more years."

Carter found all she could do was nod, her guts turning as she gripped the door handle.

"You should be proud," he said.

It took all her will power not to snap at him, knowing he was not the source of her pain. With a final nod to him in acknowledgement, she turned away. As she opened the door, she schooled her features into a mask of indifference. Mr. Miller fell silent and the whole class looked over as she walked in.

"Miss Owens, it's good to have you with us," he said.

She said nothing as she carved her way to her seat. She felt Donovan's gaze on her like it was a hot brand, but gave no indication of noticing. She settled onto her stool as Mr. Miller took up his lesson once more. Link looked over at her.

"Hey, you alright?" he whispered. "I saw you deck Lucas."

Carter bent over her bag struggling to keep herself showing an sign of her emotions.

"I'm fine," she said. "Guy just gets on my nerves." She shrugged as she set her notebook on the table, the gesture taking more effort than it needed to. "That's all."

Link looked at her, wary of her answer. His gaze felt oppressive and she tried to ignore it.

"Carter, that didn't really look like he was just-"

"Mr. Evans?"

Link jerked his attention to the front of the class, where Mr. Miller was staring at him.

"Did what you were saying to Miss Owens have anything to do with the current topic?"

Link shifted, embarrassed. "No."

"Then I will ask you to stop talking during my class."

Link nodded, his cheeks receiving spots of pink. Carter flipped open her notebook and tried focus on the lesson. She worked to smother her emotions but Donovan's eyes boring into her seemed to make it impossible.

******************

The bell rang bringing Carter's A.P. Calculus class to its conclusion. Mr. Harris called out the homework as students packed up their backpacks and left. She stood and exited the classroom, feeling as if she would crack at the sightliest bump.

As each hour had passed, she felt herself splintering. Her emotions were frayed. Her mind weighted down by thoughts she couldn't sort through. Her father's words hung over her, slowly chipping away at her composure.

She moved through the hallways, avoiding as many students as she could, trying to get to the library without falling apart or physical violence. Her phone beeped. Stepping out of the mass of students, she pulled it from her pocket and read the message.

"I'll be home late. We need to talk about this. I love you, Sarge."

Carter leaned against the wall, a new shock of pain stabbing her. She stared at the screen, gripping it in her fist. Every part of her felt battered. Link's voice reached her before he appeared with Donovan. They stopped beside her, Link still talking, his tones lost and confused.

It seemed to take everything Carter had to pocket her phone and look at her two companions.

But she didn't see them, her thoughts screaming at her, muffling Link's words. He ran a hand through his hair, distressed.

"I just don't get it," he said. "Everything was fine this morning and then this."

Donovan's gaze flickered to Carter. She wore an impassive expression and had the appearance of listening, except for the slightly unfocused look. Link kept talking, his tones becoming more baffled.

Carter heard none of it, struggling to hold herself together, while her mind raced, looking for ways to escape her new reality. As each second passed she felt herself wanting to scream, every nerve tight to the point of breaking.

"Carter, what do you think I should do?" he asked, nudging her arm.

The touch was all it took to snap Carter.

"Link, for crying out loud man up and deal with your own problems for once!"

Link stared at her in shock, his mouth open. Donovan's eyes narrowed on her, his mouth a thin line. She tried to find it in her to care, but she felt spent. Hurt quickly replaced Link's expression and he took a step back, shifting his backpack.

"Link, stay here," Donovan said, his voice firm. "Don't move."

Taking Carter's arm, he led her to a storage closest and closed them inside. She yanked her arm free, and spun on him. Donovan's face was hard.

"What the hell was that?" he asked.

She glared at him.

"Don't," she said. "I don't want a lecture from you."

"Then tell me why you said that."

"Because it's true! He needs to deal with his own problems. Some of us have bigger things to deal with than not understanding a girlfriend."

Donovan stared her down.

"What's going on with you?"

"Nothing. So back off!"

His look dissected her, reading the emotions that warred on her face. He crossed his arms, blocking the door.

"Let me out," she said, angry.

"No. Tell me what's going on and don't say nothing," he said, "You punched a guy this morning and you've been distracted."

Carter clenched her fists, staring at him belligerently. The words sat trapped in her mouth. An irrational part of her didn't want to say them. Didn't want to voice the words that were crushing her. Felt that if she spoke them then it would really be true. In her eyes, Donovan could see the pain that was consuming her.

His face softened. He took a step forward, one hand raised as if to reach for her.

"When will you learn you can trust me?" he asked, his voice more gentle than she ever imagined it could be.

"Trust you?" she said. "How could I possibly trust you when everyone I know betrays me?!" She waved her hand at him. "Tell me that?!"

A look of understanding passed over Donovan's face.

"What happened?" he asked.

She looked away, unable to handle the intensity of his stare.

"Carter, what happened?" he asked, more forcefully.

The words rattled around her head, eating away at her. Her heart felt sore. Her shoulders sagged, as her reality hit her again. It beat against her like waves crashing against a mountain, wearing it down. She shook her head, as if already denying what she hadn't yet said.

"Carter..."

Donovan took one step closer. She finally meet his gaze. For the first time since he had met her, Carter looked vulnerable.

"He signed on for two more years," she said, the words barely making it to him.

Donovan took a quick step forward, as if he was going to hold her, but something held him back.

She dropped her head, the full weight of what she had been trying not to believe, landing on her.

"I don't know what to do, Donovan," she said. His name came off her lips gently, carrying more of her emotions than she knew.

He rested his hands on her shoulders.

"Look at me," he said, squeezing slightly.