So, this chapter might confuse. It confused the heck outa me while writing, which isn't unusual, I'm easily confused.

Anyway, just a lil explanation, the bit in bold italics is an old nightmare.

The bit in plain italics is after that nightmare.

The bit in plain bold is current-kinda (Hard to explain until you've read it) and then it goes back to normal with plain text.

Hope this helps! Hope you enjoy.

AJ's POV

Dad and I spent the next three and half hours trying to decipher my nightmare. I'd snapped and yelled at him another seven times after the first and he just continued to push me. The questions, the assumptions, the continuous scribbling everything down in that damned journal. I fucking hate that stupid book. It's what I hate but it's what I need when I'm like this. I hate that I have to go through this, even though I'm not technically going through this, but I know its necessary and I know dad is only trying to help me.

I cried on him, I cursed at him, I tried to leave but he'd locked his office door. He always does after one time when I was about eleven. I had had a pretty serious nightmare about a family dying in a car accident, that incidentally happened the next afternoon, and dad was 'interrogating' me. I got scared at how real the nightmare was, like I was in the car with the family when the semi hit it. Dad had gotten right in my face and yelled and then, I dunno, things just flipped. I ran. I don't really remember doing it. I just remember blue and red sirens as a police car pulled up next to the backstreet I was sitting in. I had ran four miles across the city and slumped in the backstreet in the rain with no memory of getting there.

That was the first time dad figured out I have another side to me that comes out when I have these 'visions', as he calls them. Its like this other side of me comes out after a dream or nightmare, a side that I can't really control all that well. I get aggressive, verbally abusive, hysterical sometimes. Dad is use to it by now, he just waits for me to get it out of my system, the whole time the camera stays on and he writes everything down. Of course, I don't actually remember doing most of this. That's why it's filmed.

Another time, about a three and half years ago, was the worst it's been so far. I had a nightmare about my mom dying.

Mom is sitting on Allie's bed staring out the window. It's a beautiful night with a huge full moon and it just looks amazing. I bet Allie is out taking photos somewhere, she loves this sort of thing. I'm sitting next to mom and I can see the pain on her face.

She's holding a picture of Allie and I when we were younger. I notice a bunch of my stuff on the other side of the bed. Am I staying in here with Allie? I guess if we have guests I am.

Dad walks in and mom clears her throat. "I didn't get a chance to talk to them. So I want to do it here, where I can be with them."

What the fuck is she talking about? Then mom turns to dad, now sitting right next to her. "I think I'm gonna need you help."

"Mom?" I call out, but like in all the other dreams, I'm pretty much invisible.

He reaches out to her hands and I look down to see a fucking huge knife pressed against her chest. His hands close over hers to stop her, thank fuck.

"I can feel it." She says on a forced breath. "It's happening."

"Momma, I don't understand." I tell her hopelessly, panic clear in voice at the sight of my mom with a fucking kitchen knife, the panic forcing out my childhood name for her.

"You know what to do." She tells dad as he looks away. "You know what to tell people. Tell them I had a history of depression. Promise me."

"I will." Dad shakes his head and closes his eyes briefly. "I will even though I've never seen you depressed once in twenty years."

"Allison and AJ need to say it too."

"Momma, what the fuck are you doing?!" I half scream at her.

Dad starts to choke up. "I won't let them believe it."

"They'll hear things. People will say I was weak. They'll say I took the easy way out." Mom continues her speech.

"Why does it sound like you're going somewhere mom?" I stand up and try to reach for the knife but my arms are rooted to my sides.

"Well, I'll tell them it was the hardest thing you ever did." Dad chokes out.

"Dad why the fuck are you helping her!" I scream.

"And they'll ask, how could I do this to my family?" Mom continues.

"They'll know you did it for us." Dad promises.

He stokes her hair and kisses her softly, as if for the last time. This can't be happening. This has to be wrong. This is too fucked up to be real!

Mom places the knife back against her chest, right by her heart. "Mom, god dammit stop!"

"I can't do this myself." Mom whispers, tears filling her eyes. "Chris. Help me."

"Dad no! Momma, stop please, stop!" I shout, tears now tracking down my cheeks.

Mom leans against my dads chest as she grips the knife in both her hands. Dad wraps his hands over hers, making a firm grasp over the handle.

"Momma, I'm begging you. Daddy, please don't do this!" I scream at them both, tears now soaking my tee shirt.

Moms eyes glow yellow. "Now." She states clearly.

Dad kisses her cheek as they both plunge the knife into her chest, forcing out a pained groan from mom, a sob from dad and a petrified scream from me.

When I had woken from the nightmare, covered in sweat and tears, dad was standing by my bedside. I hurled myself downstairs and into dads office where I went behind his desk and pulled open the drawer. Dad had gotten to the door just in time for me pull out one of his Desert Eagles from the locked box in the drawer. He taught us to open it way too fast.

Reaching up and pointing the gun straight at his chest. "Stay the fuck still." I muttered to him, loud enough for him to hear.

It must be quite the sight for him to see his thirteen year old child pointing a deadly weapon at him.

He put his hands up in a general surrender and his face pales. "AJ, son, put the gun down." He says to me quietly.

"I saw you, helping mom to kill herself." I spat at him as if the words were poison in my mouth. "You held the knife to her chest. You killed her, you bastard."

He frowned and took a step forward. I clicked the safety off causing him to halt. "AJ, it was a nightmare son. It wasn't real." He said with a pained voice.

"Don't lie to me!" I screamed waving the gun at him. "You helped her. You killed her."

"Chris? What's going on?" Moms voice called through the house until she reached the office door. "Oh my god, Annabelle, what on earth are you doing?" She gasped at me.

"No!" I spat at her. "My name is AJ! Not fucking Annabelle, AJ, short for-."

"Okay," dad chips in. "It's okay son. Just, please, put the gun down so we can talk about your nightmare."

"No. If you're alive," I stab the gun in moms direction. "If you're alive, then it's all in my head. It must be. It's me. I'm fucked up. I'm fucked." I mumble more to myself then to them. "It's all me."

"No, AJ, buddy, it's not you." Dad says taking another step towards me.

Instead of answering him, I lift the gun so the barrel is flush against my temple earning a small shriek and gasp from mom as she brought her hand to her mouth.

"This is my fault. I can't be fixed." I mumble. "I love you both so much. Tell Allie I love her and I'm sorry."

As both of them scream and leap forward, I close my eyes and pull the trigger. Of course the fucking chamber was empty.

. . .

"I hate you for making me do this." I mumble as he goes to switch off the camera thinking that it's finally okay to do so.

He stops without actually pressing the button. "Why?" He asks quietly.

"Because. Because I don't want to do this. I don't want these nightmares, they fuck me up. And then you make me relive it, over and over and fucking film it like some sick freak. Do you get off on this? Is that it? This shit turns you on?"

"AJ, you know I'm only trying to help you." He tells me in his no shit tone.

"Fuck you!" I scream at him. "This is all your fault! I'm a freak. Only a freak could think this shit up. And it's your fault, your seed that made me like this. It comes from you and your fucked up mind. I'm your fault."

He doesn't say anything, just stares at me. He's hurt but I don't care. "This isn't you AJ, this isn't your fault. I'm trying to help you figure out what these visions mean." He tells me slowly, in a quiet voice as if talking to wounded child. "Tell me about what Stiles looked like in the dream."

I can't hold back the sob that escapes my throat at watching the footage back. I'm like a completely different person, a darker version of me. It's unnatural how my body moves, the weird jerky head movements that I could only associate with Heath Ledgers Joker. The traits of a sociopath. It's the first time dads let me watch the footage back. It's something new we're working on.

"I- Dad, I'm sorry." I stutter out to him. "I'm so s-sorry."

"Hey, son, it's okay." He moves around so he's in front of me and crouches down placing a hand on my knee. "We do this so we can try and fix it, okay?"

I can only nod my head to him. Dad stands and grabs my shoulder pulling me up into a hug. "I love you son, we'll find a way to fix this okay?" He tells me as he kisses my forehead.

Dad is super affectionate, even if he does seem like a dick sometimes. "I love you too dad." I mumble.

He kisses my forehead again and then steps back to focus on the camera equipment while also checking his watch. "It's almost time for you to be up for school." He informs me.

Shit, I've had barely any sleep and I have lacrosse today as well as a full day of lessons. "I'm gonna go shower." I mumble to my dads back, he's still focusing on the camera. "Thanks dad, for putting up with me when that happens." And with that I leave the room.

. . .