In The Arms Of Danger [Sequel to Make You Mine]

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Unedited...

*Please Remember: Some aspects of this story (i.e. chapters) may repeat information or leave out details. This is due to my scattered updates, which I am sorry for. I will correct mistakes that are pointed out-with your help, of course.

--I'M EXTREMELY SORRY IT TOOK SO FREAKING LONG TO UPDATE. :(

Check out the amazing fanart by @queenmarieeantonette!

Waking up in the hospital felt unreal to me. I couldn't escape the feeling that I was with Ian. Every thought of mine revolved around him. I was terrified to move from my bed because that meant I could run into him at any moment. And I was not going to take that chance.

The first few weeks I was watched like a hawk. Doctors in white coats and clipboards observed me. Eyeing my every move. They noted when I ate, slept, and even breathed. The tests weren't too bad, though. Just a few questions here and there.

After week one, I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. I knew it wouldn't be long before they found out why I wasn't sleeping.

At the end of the second week, I was diagnosed with manic depression. By that point, I wasn't normal and my parents knew it too.

The next month was harder for me. One hour of my day was spent convincing myself that I could look at a picture of Danny without breaking down. But then, when they'd show it to me I'd scream, shout, even throw things. I was angry at myself. I couldn't even look at a picture of my own son without panicking.

It was like being in a coma made my life worse. Before the accident I was going to therapy, trying to recover from those three months with Ian. It had been three years since my kidnapping but I just couldn't get over it. Ian triggered something me. It was as if he brought out a terrible side of me. Worse whenever I was left alone. At night, I was recorded. They allowed me to watch myself talking in my sleep, even fighting off something. Fighting off someone.

By the sixth month, I was allowed to return home. That was when I found out my parents sought temporary custody of Danny. They thought having him would make me cope better with the fact I couldn't take him. My mom's reasoning involved telling me how much of a danger I was to myself, and how she didn't need me harming Danny.

The only damage I could do to him would be emotional. I vowed never to put my hands on my son.

The days became weeks and weeks became months. As more time passed, I became more tolerable of Danny. I knew I needed him back into my life, I just wasn't ready for the emotional trauma that came with it. I tried. I tried hard. I attended his little league games, school plays, swim lessons and even took him trick o' treating for Halloween. My mom was there, of course. She was afraid to leave me alone with my child. My child.

Reality hit harder when I saw what I was doing to him. It was December 24th, Christmas Eve and my parents were hosting dinner. As soon as Jared and I walked in, Danny's eyes lit up. He ran to Jared. I remember Jared scooping him up and giving him a giant bear hug. The five-year-old was elated to see Jared, but when they turned to me, his eyes dropped. All excitement faded away. I didn't ask him what was wrong because I knew. He had given up on us being the dynamic duo we once were. He had given up on having me as his mommy.

Dinner soon followed. The food smelled delightful. My mom and her best friend, Andrea prepared all of it. Corn on the cob, green beans, baked chicken, smoked ham, stuffing, warm macaroni and cheese, and cranberry sauce-- just to name some.

We laughed, we cried, we shared old memories and for once in a long time, I felt normal again. My guard fell; I was vulnerable. The happiness and love surrounding me awakened my sense of belonging. I was comforted by my family. My parents couldn't keep their eyes or hands off of each other. They were acting carefree; like they were teenagers again.

My eyes watched on. Admiring them and Danny as he watched them too.

I'd always admired my parents' love. They took care of me and showed me how to love others. I was open to sharing that with my children. I wanted to pass down what my parents had given me.

The more I watched them the more I thought: I wanted that for Danny too. But now, I want better than what I can give him.