Archive of Our Own

     "Shit, I think I left my phone in my trailer. You guys mind waiting a sec while I grab it? I'll be quick." I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened my door, pausing with half my rear hanging out of the seat to glance back at Jensen and Jared.

     Jensen glanced up from the blaring phone screen that illuminated his face in the dark. "Yeah sure, and watch your language."

     "Yeah, watch your fucking language." Jared spoke up from the front seat, and I rolled my eyes as he and Jensen laughed to themselves.

     "I swear, I am working alongside children," I mumbled as Jensen winked at me, "Just don't go to the apartment without me, please."

     "You got it--" Jensen suddenly cupped his hand over the side of his mouth, blocking his lips from my view as he leaned closer to the front seat, addressing our driver-- "As soon as she closes the door, floor it."

     I responded by throwing my water bottle at his face. "Dude, it's two in the morning. Go to sleep."

     He stuck his tongue out at me as I shut the door and took off, walking briskly with my leather jacket held close to my frame to block the gently nipping February wind.

     I'd always been proud of my lego house. I'd always been proud to know that it stood strong; that I stood strong. My fabric of reality was firm and there wasn't much in the world that could tear me down. I hadn't ever worried for my lego house because I hadn't ever needed to worry. How was I supposed to know that that night was the night my house would be knocked down? What did I do wrong?

     My hand, fingertips pink with cold, fumbled with my trailer key as I unlocked my front door and stepped inside, the heat wafting across my face like a wave as my eyes burned and I looked around for my phone. I quickly determined that it wasn't in my kitchen and walked into my bedroom, sifting through the bedsheets before I finally just flung them into the air, a loud thud following. I grinned and picked my phone up off the floor.

     I nearly leaped from my skin when I turned toward the front only to come face to face with a large man.

     "Oh hey, you're Clint, the vampire I killed today, heh--" Apprehension caused my heart to speed up as I craned my neck beyond his large bulk of a body to see the my trailer door was shut... and locked. I turned my attention back to the man, noticing the dark look in his eye, and chuckled nervously-- "What the hell are you doing in here?"

     He licked his lips slowly, his gaze raking down my body, and I could almost feel his dagger-like eyes as they sliced into me. "You're even more beautiful when you're not trying to kill me."

     "Excuse me?" I stuttered out, and he shook his head sharply.

     "No need for anymore talking--" He grabbed my elbow roughly and my heart seemed to freeze in place when I realized what that look in his eye really was-- "It's time to get down to it."

     "What the fuck? Get off me, you creep!" I punched and kicked at him wildly, but he was, physically, a giant of a man, his chest wider than an ironing board as he tossed me onto my bed roughly, "Stop it! There are other people here, you'd better stay away from me!"

    "Lucky for me--" The man fell to his knees on the bed and began to undo his belt-- "No one can hear you."

     "No! Get away from me!" My screams pierced the air deafeningly as he pinned me beneath his arms and began pulling at my leggings. "Get off, please!"

    Cold air touched my bare skin and my heart seemed to beat even faster, if at all possible. I quickly squeezed my thighs together as tightly as I could, raking my nails across anywhere I could reach on his face. He growled angrily and reared back, slapping me hard across the cheek, leaving a small cut and a sweltering bruise in his wake as he forced his knee between my legs and opened them.

    And suddenly there was a pain unlike anything I'd ever experienced, ripping through my stomach as I began to cry, my screams of terror molding to those of pain as he forced himself inside of me, grunting with both the pleasure of me and the effort to keep me still. I was a virgin, barely new to even tampons, and blood was quick to flow from me as he forced me to take more than I could handle, the pain all but overwhelming.

     He began to move rhythmically, each thrust sending tidal waves of agony ripping through me, but something in me simply stopped. My movements slowed and the hands that were clawing and beating at his face slowly fell to the pillows beside me.

     And I hated myself so much, and I hated him so much, and I hated that I'd forgotten my phone and I hated that I'd let him inside and I hated that I wasn't fighting. I hated that I simply sat, tears streaming down my face, the only noises to break the silence being those of the beast who was slowly stripping me of any pride, or dignity, or spirit that I'd ever had all while I sat by and let him do it.

     I'd never worried about my lego house before because I'd never had to. But that night, someone came and tore my lego house down.

     But the worst part?

     He didn't crush it. He didn't step on it with a thundering foot and he didn't throw it across the room and he didn't watch it shatter into a million pieces.

    What he did do, is he picked it up. He picked up this lego house that held all of my love, all of my spirit, all of my bubbly personality and effervescent happiness, and he started to pull it apart.

     One. Brick. At. A Time.

     And you know what I did?

     I watched the love and the spirit and the bubbles and the effervescence fall to the floor and sink into the carpet and stain it. I watched and I hated myself because I wasn't doing a thing.

---

     "Hey, Jensen?" Jared looked out his window in the direction she had left, so long ago now. He had waited and watched for the flash of her leather jacket, for the shape of her silhouette in the moonlight, and he had grown increasingly concerned the longer he failed to see it.

     "Hmm?" Jensen looked up from his phone to the front seat, and Jared twisted around to look at him.

     "Shouldn't she be back by now?" Jared asked. 

     Jensen gave a single nod, his eyebrows furrowing. "I was thinking the same thing. She probably left her phone on set somewhere and is looking for it."

     "Yeah, you're probably right," Jared murmured as he turned back around, but his voice still held a sliver of apprehension so small only his best friend could detect it, which he did, "I don't know, I'm just kinda worried."

     "I'll go get her," Jensen said, more of a reassurance to himself as well as his friend as he opened his door, apologizing to the driver for making him wait so long, "Jared, you can head home if you want. We can grab an Uber or something."

     Jared shook his head. "Nah, it's good. I'll wait. Call me if she needs help finding her phone."

    Jensen flashed Jared a thumbs up as he slid out of the car and closed the door, crossing around to the other side and taking off in the direction Y/n went.

    He was a few hundred yards from her trailer when he saw Clint, walking with his shoulders hunched on the opposite side of the lot. He raised an eyebrow, but did not signal the man, assuming that he had forgotten something similar to Y/n.

     He reached Y/n's trailer and knocked, waiting for an answer and receiving none as he rubbed his hands together in the cold. Eventually he let himself into the room, looking around and finding her kitchen empty.

     He stepped into the bedroom and froze.

     A bloodstain much too large to be the result of a period sat on her bed like some sort of abstract art, an art that sent his heart beating into a frenzy as he glanced back into the kitchen as if he expected her dead body to suddenly have appeared in the place he'd already looked.

     He heard the smallest of sniffing noises and his head whipped back to the bed like lightning. Tilting his head to the side, he walked further into the room, the opposite side of the bed becoming visible as he walked along the end of it.

     And there she sat, tears cutting trails in the leftover makeup on her face as she pressed herself to the corner of her room. Her cheek sported a small cut as well as a large, pulsing bruise, her jacket was gone, and her shirt was ripped. Jensen leaped forward and knelt beside her, taking in her body, curled into a tight ball with her head softly and rhythmically hitting the wall, indistinguishable mumbles leaving her lips as she stared out at nothing with clouded eyes.

     "Y/n? What the hell happened?" Jensen looked her up and down, only noticing on his fourth check that there was a dark stain on the crotch area of her leggings, barely darker than the fabric.

    There was a moment of silence that seemed to stretch for years as she slowly raised her head from the wall. Her neck turned toward Jensen, but she still did not meet his eye, instead staring blankly over his shoulder with a voice soft as snow and broken as glass.

     And with three simple words, he felt his heart contort with each arithmetic pulse, his eyes going in and out of focus, trying to make something of what he was seeing, and his mind screamed into the void in which it became, while his lips stapled themselves. With three simple words, he watched her lego house disappear from her eyes.

     "He raped me."

---

     "And you found her like this?" The doctor asked Jensen, Jared beside him as she pointed to her, referring to the cut on her face. She was listening to their conversation, but she hadn't responded to anything anyone had said, not on the ride to the hospital or in the cot on the way from the emergency room.  Her legs were pulled up to her chest, twisted together in a effort to make herself as small as possible.

    "She was sitting in the corner banging her head on the wall. She was mumbling stuff I couldn't understand, and there was way too much blood on her pants and her bed." Jensen explained, his voice shaky with concern. He was beginning to breathe harder and harder, his panting only calming after Jared placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, an unspoken message passing from the taller man's fingertips as Jensen forced his breathing to even.

    "Alright. We're going to take her in for a rape kit--"

     "Please--" She spoke up suddenly, the first time she'd said a word since Jensen found her as she stared at the wall beside her cot with an empty gaze-- "Please don't say that word."

     Jensen and Jared felt they may cry as the doctor murmured a quiet apology and she was wheeled away, the cut on her cheek the last thing they saw before she disappeared into a room the doctor would not let them follow her into.

     "Did she tell you who?" Jared asked eventually, turning to Jensen.  The fear still nested in the worry lines of his face, and he could still hear his best friend's voice screaming at him through the phone, a haunting echo in the back of his mind.

     Jensen slowly shook his head, his eyes still on the doorway she'd gone through as a film of tears formed over them. When he finally responded, his voice was gruff and hard and broken. "No. Whoever it is, I want him dead."

     Jared nodded his agreement, watching Jensen mentally tear himself apart the way he knew he would before sighing and placing his hand on his friend's shoulder, pulling him to face him. "She's alive, Jay. That's what matters right now. You need to call Misha while I get her parents here."

     Jensen stared at Jared a moment, and Jared watched a tear roll down his cheek as his voice fell to a whisper. "We were a hundred yards away, Jared."

     "Jensen, you can't do this to yourself," Jared said, "Trust me, I'm angry too, but it wasn't your fault. We didn't know. There's no way we could have known."

     Jensen scoffed softly to himself and broke away from Jared's masculine comfort, looking at the ground. "We should've."

     "Jay--"

     "I'm gonna go call Misha." Jensen stepped further into the middle of the hall, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated, "You should probably call her parents."

     Jared swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he choked back the steadily rising lump in his throat. "Okay."

    The two separated and Jensen headed for the vending machines as Jared reentered the waiting room. They both pulled out their phones and dialed a number, the phones meeting their ears as they once more fought an onslaught of tears, both halfway between winning and losing.

    "Misha?"

    "(Your mother's name)? Is (your father's name) with you?"

    "I know what time it is. Listen, I got some bad news, Mish."

    "He is? Great. You mind putting it on speaker?"

     "...It's Y/n."

     "I'm sorry for waking y'all, but you need to get up here now."

     "You need to come to the hospital."

     "It's Y/n, guys."

    "She's been raped."
   
    "She was raped."

     Both men hung up after a few more exchanges of words, and Jensen had to excuse himself into the bathroom to cry quietly. Jared didn't even bother to hide, allowing the tears to roll from his cheeks onto the floor of the empty waiting room as he stared ahead of him, hands clasped beneath his chin and elbows propped on his knees.

     By the time Jensen returned from the waiting room and sat beside his best friend, the two had dried their tears and kicked away their exhaustion.  They were prepared to stay as long as they needed too, even longer if the command should pass through her lips. 

     Misha arrived first, immediately demanding to see her only to be denied by Jensen and Jared. He then demanded to know the name of her attacker, his heart dropping when Jensen explained that she had not told him. Eventually he seemed to realize that he had about as much knowledge of what was happening as they did, and he sat beside them and shared their worries, chewing on his knuckles with a watery gaze.

     Her parents arrived next, and seeing them triggered Jensen and Jared's tears once more as her mother sobbed into her father's chest before she hugged Jensen and Jared to her, repeatedly thanking them for taking care of her while they struggled to fight the tears that fell upon her sweater.

     A few hours passed before the doctor reappeared, and that little family of hers stood up like lightning from their chairs as she did so.

     "The rape kit confirms it." She explained in a sympathetic voice, "She has severe vaginal tearing as well as trauma, to be expected."

     "So, we can see her now?" Jared asked.

     The doctor grimaced and the gathered crew raised their eyebrows in question. "Er-- no."

     "Why not?" Her father asked, his voice almost angry.

     "She's asked me not to let anyone see in to see her," The doctor explained slowly, "She wishes to be alone, and while I can't say that I want her to stay alone forever, I do understand that this traumatic event is still fresh, and it's completely normal for her to want to be by herself for a few days."

     "Normal? Nothing about this is normal!" Her mother protested loudly, her voice emotional, "She was raped! She needs us!"

     "I can try to get you in the room," The doctor addressed her mother, "But I strongly advise that you do not bring four very large men into her room so soon after she was assaulted by one."

     "That's bull," Jensen snapped, "She knows who we are. She has since she was a baby."

     "If my patient has asked to be left alone," The doctor said curtly, "Then I am to obey her. You may not come into that room until she allows you to do so."

     "You can't keep us out of there." Jensen said, poised as though ready to make a mad dash for the hall behind the doctor. He forced his muscles to relax however, when Misha placed a hand on his shoulder behind him.

     "Jensen, she asked to be alone. We need to respect that." Misha said gently, his face sporting that look it always had on set when he was trying not to cry.

     "Misha, the last time I left her alone, she was attacked." Jensen said, refusing to meet Misha's gaze for her knew that the moment he did, he would break into millions of pieces.

     "Jensen, do you want to scare her more?" Misha snapped, pulling the larger man roughly to face him. Jensen didn't say anything and Misha's voice softened, "She needs time."

     Jensen nodded slightly and looked at the ground. "Okay."

     "I suggest you all go home and get some rest. It's late and I'm sure you're all tired." The doctor said quietly, and the gathered family nodded. Misha turned to follow her parents out the door and Jared clasped Jensen's shoulders, slowly leading him away from the girl who could break his heart as though it were paper.

---

     They kept me in the hospital longer than I wanted to be there. Said something about having a mild concussion, or possibly some sort of infection. I didn't really listen to what they said; not fully.

     Three days passed before I let anyone into my room with me, and even then, it was only my mother. Something inside me felt it couldn't bear to look into my father's eyes and watch his heart break, or meet the gaze of my boys and practically feel their tears fall.

     As soon as they told my mother she could see me, she'd hugged me tight to her, and sobbed into my hospital gown. She told me she was sorry more times than I could count and I couldn't bring myself to mutter a word in return. She tried to get me to speak to her at first, and at one time I tried as well, but every time I opened my mouth, my throat went dry and I wanted to disappear.

     Eventually she seemed to understand that I wasn't up for idle gossiping, but she still continued to speak to me. She'd tell me stories about what she and my father had been doing now that they were retired. She'd read off messages that crew members, fans, cast, even other celebrities, people from all walks of the Earth had sent her for me. She'd sit and talk about Jensen, Jared, and Misha; how they spent every minute they could in the waiting room, trying to keep their tears at bay and put on a strong front.  

     And while I didn't really listen to my doctors talking about medications, and I didn't really answer the questions that the police asked me when the first entered my room the day before, I did listen to her.

     It was almost as though I were in a coma, completely aware of my surroundings and self-aware of my body, but I couldn't move; or wouldn't.

     The first time my mother managed to coax a smile from my lips, it had pulled a tear from her eye. I never really met her eye, or anyone's for that matter, and there were times when I wanted to, but I didn't because I knew she wasn't going to look at me the same. That she'd never look at me the same. So I prolonged the inevitable with everything that I had and clung to the idea of who I used to be in her eyes.

     I suppose being in a coma couldn't truly be an accurate description. I could move, and I often exchanged small words with my doctor or nurse when they came in to ask how I was doing, but I had yet to find it in me to speak to my family.

    Maybe, after thinking about it, I felt like I was trapped beneath a magnifying glass. Everything is burning as the sun blares into my eyes, and the luminescent beam inches closer with every muttered question, and I soon find my self scratching at my own reflection, trying to release myself from the heat.  My own face is what stops me everytime I think I'm about to be released into the coolness of the outside world.  The linear cut that rests on my cheek brings back a barrage of memories, and I find myself right back where I started.

     Voices were muted, like I was underwater, and the colors were dull in my eyes, as though I looked at myself through one-way glass, and I tried to save myself and tried to teach myself to move, but still I burned.

     I guess I just wanted the glass to break. I just wanted the sun to go away and I wanted to be wrapped in darkness and silence. I wanted to be able to forget that anything had ever existed in live in my solitary abyss. I wanted my lego house back.

     And it took me a long time to realize that if I wanted the glass to break, I had to be the one to throw the stone.  If I wanted the sun to go away, I had to be the one to put on shades. If I wanted my lego house, I was the one who needed to rebuild it.

     By the time the doctors decided that I was able to go home, I still hadn't spoken to anyone other than my care team. I was able to watch how much it hurt my mother the longer I remained silent, but that stupid glass kept getting thicker, and every time I thought a syllable might pass through my lips, a new layer was added on, pushing me farther away from where I wanted to be; where I knew I needed to be.

     I had never hated myself more. Keeping my mouth shut for hours on end might have stopped everything out there, but my mind still raved inside me, and I would simply sit and run through every single moment of that stupid day and try to figure out what I could've done differently. And it was in doing that, that I realized it was all my fault.

     Maybe if I would've kept track of where my phone was better. Maybe if I wouldn't have goofed off so much on set and we'd be able to go home earlier. Maybe if I would've locked my door when I went inside to get my phone. Maybe if I would've run away from Clint before he could get the drop on me. Maybe if I would've fought him, it wouldn't have happened. Maybe if I didn't freeze up, Jensen and Jared would have come before Clint could get away and he'd already be in jail.

     All of the maybes, and I hadn't done a thing.
     .
     .
     .
     It was a long time before I ever loved myself again.

---

     They threw away my bloody clothes and Misha went to my trailer to get me new ones, giving them to my mom. My doctor coaxed me into them, and coaxed me out the door, and coaxed me down the hall, and the entire time my gaze was fixated to the floor like concrete.

     I stepped into that waiting room and it was like someone had announced the presence of a bomb. My parents and the boys all jumped from their seats, circling into me like hawks, their postures weary yet concerned. I kept my head down, glued to the tile floor, letting my hair for a curtain over my face.

     "Y/n?" Jensen was the one to quietly speak my name as the doctor passed me in the waiting arms of my mother. She took my hand and gently squeezed it, although I registered the motion and I heard Jensen's voice, the glass separated my brain from my body, and I didn't respond.

     Until he reached out and touched me. The pads of his fingers grazed my baggy shirt sleeve, and he continued to move forward until my sleeve met my shoulder and his fingers pressed gently my skin. It was like I felt the contact in slow motion.

     And I flinched.

     And for the briefest of moments, the glass that encased me slowly cleared, directing my attention solely on the deafening sound of Jensen's heart as it cracked and broke in two.

     His hand dropped to his side and his eyes clouded, and I wanted to go to him. I wanted to hug him, and I wanted him to kiss me, and I wanted to smell his cologne as I cried into his chest.

     But when I ran, I simply crashed into the glass and bounced back again to the middle, the farthest point from his welcoming arms. I tried to claw my way through, but all it left me with was utter disappointment, not with them, but with myself.  My desperate fight to be unleashed from this crystal dome was left on deaf ears. Inside, I was agony, my screams and cries shrill and horrifying.

     But to them, I was silent.

---

     My mother took me home. My phone was returned to me, and I was deposited into my bedroom. They told me to get some sleep, and they turned off my lights, and I finally got the silence I'd been begging for all week.

     It wasn't really a surprise that I hated it.

    I turned on my phone, squinting in the dark, and came face-to-face with a row of text messages longer than a CVS receipt. I scrolled through and read them, apologies from cast members, and concern from crew members, and wishes to get better from fans. And while I was grateful that so many people cared, I almost didn't want anyone to feel sorry for me. I didn't want anyone to look at me like I was broken, even though that's exactly what I was.

     I pulled a pair of earbuds from my drawer and shoved them in my ears, drowning out the suffocating silence with music as my face hit my pillow. I hadn't slept since it happened.

     It was easy to see why.

     The nightmares were relentless, like my mind was waging war on itself. When I closed my eyes, that glass became a screen that constantly played as replayed the destruction of my lego house, and I was forced to watch as it was torn down, over and over again. I closed my eyes, but still the images flashed through my closed lids like a childrens' book, and I was left with nowhere to hide.  

     There's something to be said about the effect of a nightmare. Nightmares in children are unimportant, nightmares in adults are psychotic; it's the nightmares of the survivors that are worrisome. Reliving the trauma, repeatedly, your tranquility interrupted by the memory you most want to forget, having the one escape you thought you might have be ripped away by the fear of the unknown.

     To watch as you sit up in blood stained sheets, a scream stuck in the back of your throat, only to wake and have it play out over and over in your psyche.  

     It wasn't a surprise that I didn't sleep much that night. Every time it seemed that maybe the darkness would overtake me and my muscles would relax, I'd see his face, and I hear him, and I'd feel him between my legs. Phantom pains would burn through my gut and my stomach would tighten, and tears would well beneath my eyelids and spill before I'd even woken up. My breath would come in heaving gasps, and I'd shoot upright in bed, and my fingers would float upward to touch the cut on my face, and I'd look to my closed bedroom door; await the moment when it would slowly swing open, and he'd be waiting on the other side of it.

     And I didn't even realize I'd been awake the whole night until the sky outside my window began to gray and the sun peeked out from over the horizon.

     I got up and used the bathroom, hating myself for allowing it to be painful, before crawling right back into my bed, and simply sat upright beneath the covers,  and stared at my hands, cupped in my lap.

     I heard the footsteps bounding up the stairs long before I heard the soft knock that was rapped against my door, but rather than look forward toward the frame I simply turned to the wall beside it, using my peripherals to discern that Misha was standing in the doorway.

     "Hey there, anklebiter," He said softly, and I hated myself for wanting him to go away. I hated myself because I thought he'd enter my room, and I wanted nothing to do with him. I hated that he was there to pity me and look at me like I was fragile, ready to shatter at any given moment, "how are you feeling?"

     And I waited. I waited for him to step over the threshold into my room, and tell me that he felt sorry for me. I waited for him to try and touch me, and tell me he cared. It was what I wanted, and at the same time it was the very thing I dreaded the most.

    It came as a surprize when he sat down, crossing his legs just outside my door, and placed his hands in his lap, his shoulders hunched as he looked at me with a empathetic rather than sympathetic gaze as I'd expected. He didn't come inside. He didn't invade the only safe space I had. He respected me, and while I loved him for it, my glass kept me from going to him, and I continued to be silent.

     "West and Maison are worried about you," Misha spoke casually, but beneath his voice he held slivers of care that I knew he would not let me go without, "They don't understand what's happening, but they love you and they want to be there for you in any way you need."

     "I think that's how the rest of us are, too," He went on, his gaze falling to the floor before him as though he weren't truly speaking to me, "We know what happened; we know what assault is and we know that someone has assaulted you, but we don't know enough. There's no way any of us can truly understand how you feel, how much pain you're in. And they'll try to make you speak, they'll try to make you tell your story like it's something from a movie, and they'll try to understand, but they won't because they aren't you."

     "You know it's okay to be afraid, don't you? I know that we are. When Jensen and Jared found you, they were afraid, and when they called me, I was terrified. You don't have to be afraid by yourself."

     He paused a moment, and I managed to risk a glance at him, thankful that he was not looking at me. With every word that he spoke, he began to chip away at the glass inside my head, little bit by little bit. "I can't tell you that I know why you choose to be silent. I can't tell you that I know what you're thinking, but I can tell you that I'm going to wait. All of us will. We'll sit outside this door and we'll wait for you. We're never going to leave you, and we're never going to let something like this happen to you again. And if one day you decide that you're ready, we'll be here. I'm not asking you to change, and I'm not gonna tell you I'm sorry because I know that isn't what you want to hear.  I know that isn't what you need to hear.  I'm simply telling you that we're going to help you fight in any way we can."

     I should've known it would be Misha. I should've known that he'd be the one to lay the foundation of my new lego house.  His words formed the cement in which he would carefully lay down, meticulously smoothing over each inch until he was sure it wouldn't crack again.  He looked up at me a moment longer, and I could tell he was silently pleading with me to say something, even if only to ask him to leave. He simply wanted to hear my voice.

     Eventually he seemed to conclude that he would not yet coax a response from me, and he uttered a small 'I love you' as he stood up, putting his back to me and making to leave.

     "Misha--" He froze and slowly turned back around as my voice rasped out of my parted lips, and floated lightly across the room. It was frail, and wildly hoarse from keeping quiet for so long, and it might have been small in the ears of my family, but it was huge in the eyes of myself, crashing into my glass and sending a large crack across the length of it-- "Come sit down."

     And the smile that he gave was worth everything as he pulled my desk chair to the side of the bed, keeping a respectful distance as he placed himself in it.

     The glass still stood. It was still strong. The thought of any of my family touching me or hugging me still sent shivers of discomfort down my spine, but I now felt I had the strength to speak, even if barely, because maybe that beast was slowly taking its leave, if only for a little while.

     The glass might have been strong, and it still advanced on me, and still tried to grow thicker, and the sun still burned on my skin, but the clouds were on their way, and the foundation of my lego house had been laid down.

---

     "She spoke to me." Misha wasted no time with formalities as he re-entered her parent's living room, four pairs of eyes snapping to him as he spoke.

     "What did she say?" Her father asked instantly, his eyes wide. Each person sat poised as though they wanted to run to her room in a flying sprint.

     "Don't everyone attack her at once," Misha said to the anxious group, holding out his hands, "She's asleep. I sat down outside her door and I talked to her, and I guess whatever I said seemed to break through her haze a little bit, and she asked me to come inside, and sit beside her. I pulled up a chair and she asked me how you guys were, and we talked for a few minutes. I did most of the talking, but I managed to get a sentence or two from her, including the name of the guy who raped her."

     "You did?" The group went mad then, leaping to their feet as Jensen exclaimed loudly, "Who?"

     "Clint Keith, the guy who played a vampire the other day. She didn't tell me how, or describe anything--" Misha's eyes darkened then as he trailed off, and everyone noticed.

     "What did she say, Misha?" Jared asked.

     Misha managed to chuckle, an exhale of breath leaving him. "I can tell you, she's still Y/n, beneath all this fear. She said, 'Clint Keith. Misha, I want him dead.'"

     Jensen smiled, although it was half-hearted. "That certainly sounds like our Y/n."

     "What the hell are we waiting for?" Her mother interrupted, "We got a name, someone call the cops so we can get this fucker in jail!"

     Her father held out a hand to silence her, a phone already held to his ear. "Detective Sunny? It's (your father's name). You gave me your number a few days ago after my daughter was sexually assaulted--" There was a pause and an indistinguishable voice echoed through the other end-- "She gave us a name; for her attacker. It's Clint Keith, he was an extra on set about a week ago."

     Her father exchanged a few more words with the detective before hanging up. "Good news is, they're going to bring him in for questioning. Bad news is, there were no witnesses to the assault, which is gonna make things hard."

    "The hell it will," Jensen said, "I was there, I saw Clint on set when I went to look for Y/n."

     "Well, then that's something you're going to need to tell the detective when she comes."

     "When is she coming?" Misha asked.

     Her father shook his head. "Not for another few hours."

     "What do we do in the meantime?" Her mother crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed her shoulders.

     "How about lunch?" The gathered group all jumped three feet in the air as a new voice joined in on the conversation, whipping around to see Y/n in a sweater with sleeves that hung over her hands adorably and leggings, a pair of Converse on her feet. Her posture was closed off, her shoulders hunched as her foot kicked nervously at the ground, but she was there, and to them it was nothing short of a miracle.

     "Lunch sounds delicious," Her father smiled, "I'm thinking I can make some pasta, how do you feel about Italian?"

     "Italian seems like a good choice."

---

     It was when my parents told me when my first court session was that everything had come crashing down again. I'd done okay for a few days, managing to smile slightly at jokes and talk to people a bit better. The boys went home to spend some time with their families, and explain what had happened, and I spent more and more time outside of my room. I soon found myself slowly shifting from my room to our balcony, looking out over my backyard and enjoying the coolness of the February air. I was still closed off, I often sat with my legs curled tightly beneath me or even shoved beneath my shirt, and I still grew tense when my mother touched me and couldn't meet the eyes of my father, but I was slowly chipping at my glass, and I was okay with the fact that I wasn't entirely okay.

     But then my mother told me that they'd tested his DNA, and that they couldn't match it to me because he'd used a condom, but they were still sure, at least on my end. My mother told me that he had a solid alibi for the night of the attack, and although we knew it was a lie, the court didn't, and that was going to make it hard.

     She told me that the first court session would take place a few weeks from then, and as she spoke I watched my glass meld back together until it was as if it hadn't ever been cracked to begin with.

     I'd slipped into my room and cried soon after she'd told me, barely having the control to make it over the threshold and shut the door before I was falling to my knees, crawling forward and shoving myself into a small space between my desk and the corner of my room, resting my head on my wall and allowing tears to stain my cheeks as I relived that night over and over again in my mind.

     I had so many doubts. I doubted that anyone would believe me. I doubted that he'd be put away. I doubted that I was safe, and I hated how scared I was.

     How was I supposed to be expected to sleep? To close my eyes and drift off like it was nothing? I knew what waited for me behind my eyelids, and I forbade myself from seeing it. It hurt too much to see and to feel it.

     I ended up sitting at my desk, writing stupid stories about unicorns, and doodling on the corners of papers, and singing quietly to myself as my head bobbed and my eyes periodically  threatened to shut. I played loud music in my ears, but my head continued to droop. Eventually I turned on my TV instead, opening Netflix and putting on a random episode of Supernatural.

     It was as I was watching myself dance across the screen, fighting monsters and saving the world, that I truly began to hate myself.

     I am a Winchester. That part of my life had as big of an effect on me as my parents or anyone else. The character I play, she'd left a mark on me, and she'd helped me be braver, and so much stronger than I would've ever been without her, and it sickened me to see that everything she had taught me, and everything she had helped me with had slipped away. I hated that he was able to take that away from me when he shouldn't have been.

     I was pitiful. I was broken, and screwed up a million ways in one, and he had done it so simply. I used to be the same girl that I saw on my screen before me, but I'd become a shell, the sloppy leftovers of the person she was. I hated that my character had gone through so much and continued to stand strong while this one thing in my life had caused me to fall.

     I wanted to be better. I wanted to be able to be who I was before, and I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he'd stripped me of my spirit. I wanted him to feel my fist as it connected with his cheek, and I wanted him to bleed under my hand, and I wanted him to burn under the same magnifying glass he stuck me under.

     But then, there again was that stupid glass, keeping me trapped within my mind while the rest of me slowly died. I was the plant that needed water, and at the exact same time I was the person stopping me from getting it.

     And it was as I was sitting there, watching my character love her brothers, and watching her brothers love her, that I realized what it was that I needed. I'd been pushing away the people that I loved, and I knew that it was the wrong answer, and yet it continued to be my solution.

     I sat in my parallel universe behind my glass, and I screamed for the people I loved, and I tried to go to them, and yet they continued to hear nothing but my silence.

     I'd chipped my glass once.

    And I vowed to do it again.

---

     "So, Y/n, we had this idea." Danneel's sweet voice crackled through my phone as I flipped idly through a Stephen King book I wasn't interested in, "You know we've got a few weeks before the trial, and you guys aren't filming, so what if Jensen, Jared, Misha, Gen, Vicki, me, all the kids, and you go on a little vacation? We'll go to the lake house, away from all the cameras and all the questions and have a few days of just quiet. If you'd rather stay at home, that's fine, but the girls and I think it might be a good idea for you to get away from everything for a while."

     I found that a small smile had crept over my face at the mention of the kids, and the idea of seeing JJ and Tom and West and everyone was simply too good to pass up. "I'd love to, Dee. When are you guys leaving?"

     "Oh, I'm happy to hear you say that," Danneel admitted, and I could practically hear her smile as she chuckled breathily, "We're leaving tomorrow. Do you think you can pack that fast?"

     "I'm sure I can try my best." I responded, and she gave me a warm goodbye before leaving me to my lonesome. I pulled a suitcase from beneath my bed and began tossing random things in it, not really caring if I'd brought anything that matched, seeing as I was going with my family.

     I made my way downstairs and explained to my mother what was happening, offering her and my father the chance to join me, but they politely denied. They tried to tell me they were tired, but it didn't take much for me to put two and two together and realize they were too busy sorting stuff out for my trial. I tried not to think about them as I went back upstairs and finished packing.

    I found myself sitting on my balcony after I'd gotten done, my feet curled beneath me and a cup of warm coffee in my hands. I'd resorted to down the stuff in copious amounts as the sun set, unbeknownst to my family obviously, in a desperate attempt to keep myself awake in the night. I simply couldn't shake the idea that he'd be back as I slept, that the thing I was trying so hard to forget would simply happen all over again.

     I managed to stay up through the night, much to the dismay of my body, and for some reason I believed that if I ignored the bags under my eyes, and the cloudiness in my gaze, if I pretended it didn't exist, then maybe it would disappear. Maybe no one would notice it, and it would go away. I'd had insomnia before, but never had it been voluntary.

     The next day, Jared and Genevieve arrived to pick me up, telling me that Jensen, Misha, and their company would meet us at the lake house in a few hours. Tom and Shep were beyond excited to see me, and I learned that the crew had not told any of their children that I was coming, because they knew how happily surprised they'd be to find out I was when I showed up. It made me smile to see how much they cared for me.

     The car ride was quieter than they'd wanted it to be, at least from my end. They'd tried to coax small talk from me on occasion, but I'd always turned the attention to Tom and Shep when they tried, perfectly content with listening to the small kids tell their wild stories while I stared out the window and imagined them. It was therapeutic to listen to them describe dinosaurs and beasts, and watch their very stories come to life before my eyes.

     I'd smile as dragons the size of hummingbirds would flutter around my face with soft wings that barely ruffled the air that lifted them; as a T-Rex larger than an elephant ran alongside the car swatting its little arms as hundreds of pterodactyls swooped about, and pecked at its head playfully.

     I'd always been proud of my imagination, and when someone told me that it was overactive, I'd always thank them and promise to add them to one of the elaborate adventures that took place inside my head. I had feared that I'd never be able to daydream like that again. I feared that every time I let my mind take over and I quit paying attention to the world, he would be there. I was grateful for Tom and Shep for helping me to chase him away.

    Both of the tiny Padaleckis had fallen asleep during the drive, and as the silence began to build like a growth in my mind, I found where it was the only thing I wanted previously, it began to become less and less what I really did. It was like there was a hole, and I spent so long trying to avoid it, but when I finally realized I couldn't any more, I tried to fill it instead.

     "Jared?"

    "Yeah, sweetheart?" His eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror, but my gaze was still fixated out the window.

     My upper lip twitched. "I don't want to be troublesome, but do you guys mind if we listen to some music? The boys fell asleep and now the quiet is just-- I don't know, a little too quiet."

     Gen looked in the rear-view with that lovely, warm smile I absolutely adored. "Please, Y/n, you are never troublesome, you little angel. Of course we can listen to music. Do you have anything in particular you'd like to listen to? I've got Spotify premium so you've got your cream of the crop."

     "Do you happen to have any Imagine Dragons?" I asked quietly, looking up to the front seat and meeting Gen's eyes in the mirror, something that had been hard for me to do before.

     "Sure do, sweetheart, I'll play this." She tapped something on her phone screen and turned up the volume, Imagine Dragons echoing softly through the speakers as she and Jared glanced back at me with loving smiles. I returned them as my gaze moved back to the window, and I soon found myself bringing up images of Tom's dinosaurs and Shep's dragons once more.

     The music that played softly in the background most have disturbed Shep, who was sitting next to me, enough to make him open his eyes in a squint.

     "Y/n? Can I use your arm as a pillow?" He asked, his sleepy voice traveling softly throughout the car.  Both Jared and Gen's gazes snapped to the rear-view mirror, their eyes widening ever-so-slightly.

     "Shep, I'm sure Y/n doesn't want you to--"

     "Of course you can, buddy--" I interrupted Jared, and it was obvious how much it surprised both of them-- "come here."

      I lifted my arm over his body, and waited for him to settle within my hold.  His soft snores once again filled the open air, and I had never been more grateful for the kids then in that moment. 

     I don't think I'd ever seen Jared and Gen smile as wide as they did. I guess I never really realized how much something so small could mean to them.

     I leaned my head gently against his, letting my eyes willingly shut for the first time in weeks.     

     Maybe it didn't have to be huge. Maybe I didn't have to have some grand moment of enlightenment. Maybe I didn't have to be exactly the person I was. Maybe I could be better.

     Maybe instead of a lego house, I could build a lego mansion; a lego castle. I could build coliseums of colored brick. I could be so much more than I was.

     I wanted to be.

---

     "Y/n!" I nearly jumped in surprise as three high-pitched screams of delight echoed from the living room as soon as I entered the lake house. I barely had time to set my suitcase on the floor before one by one West, Maison, and finally JJ crashed into me, knocking me backward onto the wood as they hugged around my waist, and my shoulders. My muscles were tense as I went down, but they loosened when I realized who'd assaulted me, and I soon allowed a smile to bleed onto my cheeks as three little voices jabbered in my ear, yelling to be heard over each other as they tried all at once to tell me how happy they were that I was there.

     "Okay, easy killers," I held out my hands and quieted them down, "One at a time, there's enough of me to go around."

     "Y/n, Daddy didn't tell me you were coming! My trip is gonna be so much better now cause you can play with us, and swim with us!" JJ squealed happily, and I shook my head as I ruffled her hair.

     West gingerly poked my shoulder as Tom and Shep took JJ and Maison away to play, and I turned to him just in time for him to hug me. I patted his back lightly as he stood back up. "I missed you, Y/n, it's been years since I've seen you."

     I allowed myself the smallest of chuckles. "West, you saw me like three weeks ago."

    "No," West said matter-of-factly, "I'm pretty sure it's been three years."

    I rolled my eyes as I stood up. "Alright then."

     Jared directed me to my room and I deposited my things in it before returning to the living room, and quickly taking a place in an armchair where I could sit alone. Donned in a sweater that I think used to be Jensen's, I pulled my sleeves over my hands and held the ends in closed fist as I curled myself into a ball and watched the kids play with toys at my feet, running one of my clothed knuckles back and forth over my upper lip softly.

     "How was the drive up, N/N?" Vicki asked politely as she sat beside Misha on her couch and threw her legs over his casually, responding to his protests by sticking out her tongue until he rolled his eyes and settled down.

     I looked up at her through my eyelashes and shrugged. "It was fine. I mean, it would've been much more boring if I didn't have Tom and Shep telling me stories."

     By this time, all the other adults had filed into the room and sat down somewhere, some holding glasses, or little snacks, and Jensen's eyes glittered as I spoke. "Oh, did Tom tell you the story about Henry, the dragon that doesn't breathe fire, it breathes sheep?"

     I gave a small chuckle that earned instant smiles from all the adults. "Yeah, and he told me about Polly, Henry's cousin who breathes cows."

     Little laughs echoed around the room as Jared shook his head down at his children. "That kid has quite the imagination. The only one I've ever seen that tops his is yours, N/N."

     I gave another shrug. "Sometimes the world gets boring, so I just make my own movies in my head."

     "Are we ever in them?" Misha asked.

     I nodded, furrowing my eyebrows seriously, but my voice was sarcastic, a tone I thought I'd lost the ability to take on. "Oh yeah, all the time. You boys are always the damsels in distress, and then me and the awesome wives are the heroes that save you guys."

     The boys laughed as Vicki and Danneel simultaneously fist-pumped the air and Gen punched Jared's shoulder triumphantly.

    "Daddy?" The conversation was interrupted when JJ stood up and made her way to Jensen, "Are we gonna go swimming today?"

    "That's up to Y/n, sweetheart," Jensen said, glancing up at me, "We'll go swimming as soon as she wants to go."

    Instantly, all the children had crawled to sit below my feet, looking at me with five pairs of puppy dog eyes. "Please, Y/n?"

    I pretended to think hard, tapping my chin and looking upward thoughtfully before shaking my head. "Nah--" Their faces dropped and I gave the widest smile I'd given in nearly two weeks-- "How are we supposed to go swim if you guys don't have your swimsuits?"

    The adults all laughed as a stampede of children stood, and sprinted down the hall in a foray of happy squeals.

    "Last one to get their swimsuit on is a rotten egg!" I called down the hall, and their little legs suddenly moved even faster as they all disappeared into their rooms.

     "I'd guess we'd better put our swimsuits on, Jensen," Danneel said, patting her husband's chest as she stood and placed her drink on a side table, "and make sure JJ doesn't tear apart the room looking for hers."

     Jensen chuckled as he followed Danneel down the hall, the Padaleckis and the Collins' following. I padded idly after them, apprehension crossing my features at the thought of being halfway naked in the lake.

     Vicki glanced back at me, noticing the frown on my face as my steps slowed, and fell away from Misha, returning to stand by my side as the rest of the adults entered their rooms. "You alright?

     "Yeah, I'm just kinda--" I stuttered, not knowing how to explain-- "I'm fine."

     "You sure?"

     "Yeah," I cleared my throat and nodded, "I'm good. Go get your swimsuit on, love."

     "You don't have to swim if you don't want. You can stay up here." Vicki said sympathetically, and I knew she was reading me in her special Vicki way. I smiled.

     "I want to go. I'm coming." I continued walking toward my room and Vicki nodded her acquiesce. She opened the door to her room and I chuckled as I listened to Misha trying to explain to West that he could not swim naked. Vicki shook her head at her family and gently shut the door behind her.

     I entered my room and made quick work of changing into my swimsuit, looking at myself in the mirror.

     That stupid cut had scarred. Of all the injuries I'd gotten in my sixteen years of performing my own stunts and doing idiotic things with my boys, this had to be the one that would stick around and wordlessly tell my story for years to come. It made angry just to look at it as I yanked a T-shirt over my head and pulled on a pair of shorts, braiding my hair and slipping my phone into my back pocket.

     I stepped out of my room to see everyone except Danneel standing by the backdoor with towels and beach toys in hand. Sure, it was a lake, but there was still a strip of land that was like thick, muddy sand, a perfect place for all the kids to get their hands dirty and build sand/mud-castles. As if on cue, Danneel appeared from her room behind me, and I smiled, slowing down to let her catch up to me.

     "Guess you're the rotten egg," I teased lightly, and she gave me a scrunchy-nosed grin as she wrapped an arm over my shoulders.

     "Guess I am." Instantly I tensed, and I wanted to apologize, for I knew that she felt it, but before I could even get a word out I had relaxed again. It was Danneel, it was one of my best friends. It was a woman. That made it better, somehow.

     She kept her arm around me casually as we joined the others, and I could tell how happy it made the boys when they saw the connection we were making. While it was true that I probably wouldn't have reacted as easily if it was one of them, it was a step, and I hoped that I could continue to work until it was a leap.

    Jared led the way outside and down the steps, occasionally yelling for a child not to leap into the water before he could put sunscreen on them. A bunch of chairs and a table had been built atop the pier, bolted into the wood. The gathered family placed their belongings on the table and began to remove shirts and shorts, the smell of sunscreen entering the air as the bottles hissed to life and coated the skin of all the kids.

    I found myself being slowly drawn into a chair, the apprehensive gaze with which I looked to the water coaxing frowns onto the faces of the adults.

     "N/N? You alright?" Jensen asked as he rubbed JJ's shoulders with sunscreen, glancing at me through his sunglasses.

    "I-- uh, I'm not so sure I want to-- um-- remove my clothes." I explained in a tiny voice, my fingers fiddling with the hem of my shirt as I curled one leg to my chest, the other hanging off the chair.

    "You can swim with your clothes on if you want, we have a washer." Jared offered.

     "Or if you don't want to swim, I'll stay up here with you." Vicki added with a shrug, "It's been a while since we've had the chance to gossip about Misha's antics."

     The group chuckled as I smiled. "No, you probably want to swim with everyone else, you guys go ahead--"

     "Why don't want you want to swim?" JJ asked suddenly, breaking from Jensen's grip and waddling up to stand in front of my chair, "Are you afraid that we aren't gonna like you if you take off your shirt?" I could hear the sudden gasps of shock come from Jensen and Danneel, watching from the corner of my eye as Jensen tried to get JJ to be quiet. 

     "JJ, don't say things like that!" Danneel grabbed her softly under her armpits, meaning to drag her out of the conversation, but my hand flew up to stop her before she could.  She released JJ from her hold.   

      "It's okay, Dee--" I said to Danneel before returning my attention back to her daughter, who was fidgeting with her arms--"not exactly--"

     "I don't think you should be afraid to take it off," JJ continued, "I took mine off, and you're a lot prettier than me."

     Danneel slowly removed her arms from her daughter, and made her way back to Jensen, who was watching the situation carefully.  His daughter was only five years old, and he knew she was just trying to help, but her mental filter wasn't exactly formed all the way, and he was afraid she would say something to make the situation worse. 

     He smiled at his family, pleasantly surprised at how mature JJ sounded.   

     I smiled, tears welling at my eyes as well as everyone else's as she grinned and patted my knee. "I can hold your hand if you're afraid to swim."  The innocence that laced her voice caused a pulse of hope to form throughout my body, and I found myself smiling.

     And here I was thinking I might be able to chisel the smallest of chips in my glass, while so suddenly, and so effortlessly she sent a thick crack across the entire face, just as Misha had done before. I let out a laugh that was halfway muffled by a sob as I wiped at my eyes and sat up further in my seat, taking her hand with one of mine, and grasping her cheek with the other. "I'd love that, Justice Jay."

    She grinned and turned back to her teary-eyed daddy, oblivious to the fact that he and her mother were quietly crying as she took the sunscreen from his hands and handed it to me. "Here, I don't want you to get sunburned."

     I chuckled as I stood and sprayed the stuff down the length of both my arms. I paused, staring at the bottle for a moment before handing it to her and lowering my hands to grasp the hem of my shirt. All the eyes of the adults were on me as I hesitated, and they watched me second guess myself before I convinced myself that I needed to be a Winchester, not a coward.

    I lifted my shirt, revealing my belly button and then my ribs, before lifting my arms and smoothly pulling it all the way off. I let out a long breath and the gathered crew were all smiles as I put my shirt on the table and held my arms out to my sides, and getting down on my knees so she could reach my whole body. "Spray me, Justice Jay."

     She giggled and the others laughed as she placed her thumb over the top and pressed hard on it, the sunscreen billowing out and piling on a single spot on my stomach for a few seconds before she finally moved it around. I chuckled and rubbed the giant patch of oil she'd left on me, spreading it out as I slowly spun in a circle and allowed her to spray the rest of me. I stood up once she was down with the top half of my body, giving her easy access to my legs. 

     "Okay, now you're legs," JJ said, satisfied with her splotchy spray work as she squatted down, and did the same to my legs, working her way up until she reached my Nike shorts.

     She looked at me expectantly and I shook my head. "I'm gonna leave my shorts on, Justice Jay."

     "Okay!" She agreed cheerfully, continuing to spray my legs and even spraying my shorts, earning a laugh from the adults as she finished.

     "I will let you spray your own face. I don't want to get it in your eyes." She said as she passed the bottle to my awaiting hands. 

     "Thank you, Justice Jay." I laughed quietly under my breath, and quickly lotioned my face before placing the bottle back into her tiny hands.  

     She put the bottle back on the table and held out her hand, "C'mon! Tom and Maison and all them are waiting for you, too."

    I took it, my free hand struggling to spread out the various piles of sunscreen puddles on my ribs and legs as I followed her over the pier toward the steps. The adults finally seemed to snap from the teary-eyed trances JJ and I had locked them in as they began popping open beer bottles and spraying each other with sunscreen.

     "Do you wanna go down the stairs, or do you wanna jump with us?" JJ asked, pointing to where the rest of the kids were poised at the edge of the opposite side of the dock, knees bent as they worked themselves up to jump.

    "You know what?" I said, catching the eye of Misha and Danneel as I bent over and pinched JJ's nose, "I think I'll jump with you, Justice Jay. But you and Tom have to hold my hands so I'm not afraid."  I towered over the little line up that we all formed, and couldn't help but look behind me towards the others.  I didn't look at anyone in particular, just scanned over their smiles. Jensen sent a huge thumbs up, while Jared voiced his opinion with a loud hollar, cupping his hand over his mouth.

     "Do a flip!" He yelled teasingly, and I rolled my eyes and stuck out my tongue at him.

    "Okay! Tom!" JJ squealed, pulling the older boy to her, "You gotta hold Y/n's hand so she can jump in with us!"

     "Hey, guys--" Misha nudged Gen and the others, not realizing that their gazes were already fixated in my direction-- "They've got her jumping in the water."

    Tom took my hand, and with a loud counting to three, I basically stepped off the dock while the kids all leaped, loud splashing following as I and they disappeared beneath the water.

     "Those kids have gotten her to open up more in the past twenty minutes than we have in two weeks." Jared said fondly, watching as one, two, three, four, five heads bobbed from the water, followed closely by my slightly larger sixth.

     "I think it's because they don't know what happened," Gen said as she slapped a palmful of sunscreen onto Jared's upper back and began to rub it in, "They just treat her like everything's normal. They're constantly just little bubbles of happiness, and their childishness is sort of beginning to coax back hers."

     "I just hope all of that doesn't go away when the trial starts," Misha said quietly, sipping from a beer, "She doesn't deserve to be broken like this."

     "We just have to continue to be here for her if she wants it, and give her space if she doesn't. This will get better. It has to." Jensen responded, glancing at me as he removed his shirt to see that I was giving each of the kids piggyback rides through the water, and he gave a smile.

     "Hey, guys?" Vicki spoke up, "We came here to get her away from everything, didn't we?" Heads nodded, and in turn she nodded-- "Okay, so why don't we quit talking about it and go swim with her and our children?"

     "That's a wonderful idea, Vick," Danneel said with a smile, and soon all of the adults were filing toward the water, the boys leaping and diving in like idiots while the women rolled their eyes at their husbands, and stepped down the steps, beers in hands as they bobbed on floats in the crystalline freshwater.

    And it felt so incredibly good to forget about everything; to let the water soak into every pore in my skin and simply take me. The kids splashed around me and fought for my attention, and I gladly gave it to them, because it felt so good to forget about the past, to forget about the future, and to simply live in the moment I was in. It was like I'd begun to chip at the glass again, and this time I had no intention of letting it fix itself like it had before.

     We didn't leave the water until we were all pruney and the kids had burned through their sunscreen. The sun was slowly drifting below the horizon and the air was growing colder as Jensen called everyone out, yelling something about burgers for dinner as everyone swam in toward the steps. I allowed the others to leave before me, and became the last one to pad up the steps.

     I adjusted the shorts that were sticking to my legs as I shivered my way to the table and wrapped my towel tight around my shoulders, my hair dripping as I followed West closely up the steps, making sure he didn't trip on his own towel as everyone filed inside and into their rooms to shower and change into pajamas.

     I shut and locked the door to my bedroom behind me, stepping into my bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror and let my towel fall from my shoulders, taking in my top and my ribs, and the soaking shorts that still clung to my skin like tape.

     And you wouldn't even know that anything had happened to me. I looked the same. I looked so plain. And I wished that I could feel it, too. I looked like any other teenage girl, and the only evidence of assault on my person was the scar, the tiny white line across my cheekbone. It was all but indistinguishable, and without it I simply looked like me.

    I stripped from my bathing suit and rinsed it out, hanging it over the curtain rod before I washed my hair and stepped from the shower, shivering as I wrapped a new towel around me and dried off. I rubbed at my hair until it was damp and brushed it out.

     I returned to my room and pulled on a pair of leggings, donning a Family Business Beer Co. sweatshirt and opening my bedroom door.

     I entered the living room and found that the others had beaten me to the punch, watching their kids wrestle and roll around on each other. They glanced up when I came in, and I smiled as I passed them and slid open the balcony door. The sun had disappeared beyond the trees, slivers of pinks that streaked across the sky being the only remainder of its shine as the cool February air wafted into my face and I slid the door shut behind me.

     I propped my elbows on the railing and looked out over the lake, watching the tiniest of waves ripple across the surface as the wind blew over the water. A breeze sent a lock of my hair floating behind me, and I unconsciously allowed my eyes to halfway shut as I squinted into the fresh air.

     I glanced back a few minutes later to find that the adults had shifted into the kitchen, chatting as Jensen grilled burgers and Gen made mac and cheese and baked beans.

     I then looked to where the children were supposed to be playing on the floor in the carpeted living room, but instead I found them barreling their way toward the balcony door, struggling to open it as they bustled outside and crowded around me.

     "Are you guys supposed to be out here?" I asked light-heartedly as they all giggled and looked up at me with bright eyes.

     "We want you to sing for us, Y/n!" West exclaimed, ignoring my question as the other four clapped their hands together in excited agreement.

     I inhaled sharply, my nostrils flaring. "I don't know, guys--"

     "Please, Y/n? Sing our song, please!" Shep interrupted, the others echoing his begs as they pushed me into one of the balcony chairs and sat in a semicircle around me. Their gazes were innocent and pleading as they all crossed their legs obediently.

     "Fine," I eventually relented, "But you guys have to sing with me."

     They all nodded vigorously and I used my arms to lift myself out of my chair and cross my legs before sitting back down. I cupped my hands together in my lap and cleared my throat, the lights from inside reflecting off of five pairs of adoring eyes as I began to sing to them.

     "I remember, all of the things that I thought I wanted to be," I sang softly, and instantly they began to sway back and forth, grinning madly as I chased away a smile, "So desperate, to find a way out of my world and finally breathe."

     "Right before my eyes I saw, my heart it came to life. This ain't easy, it's not meant to be, every story has its scars." Their smiles were wide as rivers as they all wrapped their arms around each other and continued to sway horribly out of time.

     Behind me, Vicki had noticed that she could no longer hear the excited squeals of the five children in the living room, and when she turned around to find them gone, her heart began to beat ever-so-slightly faster. She set her drink down and walked into the living room, halfway catching the curious eyes of Misha and Danneel as she looked around for the kids.

     It was when she looked outside that she stopped, her heartbeat slowing and her concerned frown replacing itself with a warm smile as she noticed the kids piled around my chair.

     "Guys, come here," The rest of the adults discarded their conversations and followed Vicki into the living room, taking in what she saw and quickly adding their own smiles, "look at them."

     "Open the door," Danneel said, "She's singing to them."

     Jared stepped forward as the other piled up to the glass and slid open the door as silently as he could, my voice drifting back to them softly as I sang and pretended that I didn't know they were there.

     "When the pain cuts you deep, and the night keeps you from sleeping, just look and you will see that I will be your remedy." Tears pricked at eyes and pictures were snapped and soon the adults were swaying, too as I went on-- "When the world seems so cruel, and your heart makes you feel like I fool, I promise you will see that I will be your remedy."

     My voice faded into silence and soon both the children and the adults were clapping. I turned around as though I'd just realized they were there, blushing and fiddling with the too-long sleeves on my sweatshirt as I looked at the ground.

     "Alright, come on in, kids," Jensen ordered, waving the five inside, "There's bugs out and dinner's ready. Who wants mac and cheese?"

     "Yay!" The kids squealed as they all leaped up and raced toward the door. West tried to run through the glass, smacking his head on the door with a loud thud that left the adults rolling as he stumbled backward before regaining his feet as quickly as he'd lost them and running after the others.

     The adults followed their kids inside and I trailed after them, rubbing my shoulders in the chilly air as I stepped over the door frame onto the carpet.

     "Who's hungry for burgers?" Jensen announced loudly, "JJ, what do you want?"

     "Everything." JJ responded seriously, and Jensen chuckled as he began to make JJ a plate of food. Similar conversations transferred between Vicki and West and Maison and Gen and Tom and Shep as I made my own plate and padded into the living room and sat down in my armchair, poking at my baked beans.

    It felt almost surreal to be sitting there like everything was fine. I wished everything could be fine.

---

     "You not tired?" Misha was careful to keep his voice low as he crossed the carpet and sat down on the couch. I had yet to leave my armchair, even after everyone but Misha and I had gone to bed.

     I looked down at my hands, my sweatshirt sleeves wrapped over them as a confession that I seemed unable to stop rose to my lips. "I haven't really been sleeping lately."

     "I know." Misha's voice was calm as he sipped at a glass of milk, placing it on the side table and crossing one leg over the other.

     I glanced up at him guiltily through my lashes. "You do?"

     "Did you think we wouldn't notice?" He asked gently as he met my gaze, "You've been exhausted for weeks, and your mother told us you've been chugging coffee behind her back before bed."

     "It's not my fault," I defended myself, looking back down at my hands, "When I sleep, I dream. And when I dream--" I trailed off.

     "When you dream it happens all over again," Misha finished softly, "It's like you're just going back in time."

     I simply nodded and there was a long moment of silence before Misha spoke again. "I know us guys aren't really what you want right now, but I still feel like you should know that I'd be here to be your dream catcher for as long as you need me to be, and I'll do everything I can to chase away the nightmares if you want me to."

     And there he did it again, sent the next bundle of branches spiraling up my glass, and I was beginning to see slivers of my world through the cracks. I was beginning to see myself through the cracks.

     I didn't register what I had done until after I was moving, but before I knew it I was sitting beside him, and he was staring at me intently.

     "Y/n?" He mumbled eventually, and I gave a slow smile as I answered the question he didn't even need to ask.

     "You can do it, Mish. It's okay." I said quietly, and my smile slowly shifted to spread across his face as well as his gently raised his arm and wrapped it around me, holding me lightly, yet firmly all the same.

     It wasn't until after a few minutes of sitting there that I realized he was crying above me. I looked up just in time to watch a large tear roll down his cheek, but despite the salty tang that hit his tongue, he was smiling.

     "Please don't cry, Mish," I said softly, "I don't like to see you hurt."

     He leaned forward unintentionally and kissed my forehead, the memory of how casual our relationship used to be briefly drowning out how strained it was now. He seemed to surprise himself, tensing up and awaiting my reaction.

     I simply gave another warm smile and laid my head on his chest, and soon he was relaxing and his smile had returned.

    "I love you," He whispered, "And I'm so sorry that I can't snap my fingers and make all of this go away."

     "Maybe not," I admitted, "But you can make me forget about it all, even if for a moment, and that's pretty much the same thing."

      See, that glass was strong, but it was weakening. I wanted it to be gone, and yet it still held on. I wanted to burst through the glass and rebuild my lego house, but I wasn't quite ready yet.

      I needed more time, and I needed clarity.

     And I needed them.

    I was able to sleep soundly in his arms, something about his touch soothed the nightmares that had plagued me the last couple of weeks, and for the first time I closed my eyes without the constant fear of seeing his face being displayed behind them. 

     His presence was just enough to wash a wave of peace over me, and my mind was slowly buried into the white sands, leaving only the sound of soft waves to crash into the shores of my imagination. 

     Sleep was something that had eluded me for what seemed like years, and to have a taste of the relaxation that it gave was addicting, and I found myself falling deeper and deeper with every passing minute.

     That was until Misha's arms unraveled from my body, feeling as he slowly lifted my head from his shoulder and rested it upon the pillow he was just occupying. 

     The fear that etched itself deep into my bones was instantaneous, like an warning sign blaring through my head, alerting me that I was now alone. 

     And I hated myself for losing my mind over the lost of connection, allowing it to affect me so much that a nightmare spontaneously exploded through my mind, leaving me clutching at my own skin. 

     My nails scratched and pulled, leaving a patchwork of bright red lines across my arms. 

     And I felt so ashamed. 

     The terror encased my whole body, creating a barrier between Misha's constant attempts to rouse me, and being able to comprehend anything outside of the nightmare.

     It was like I was dead to the world, the only signs of life coming from my body were the screams that ripped from my throat as though I were spitting out knives.   

---

    "Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"
     .
     .
     .
    "I never went in her trailer that night. I was at a bar with a friend."
     .
     .
     .
     "Yeah, he was with me all night."
     .
     .
     .
     "I went to see what was taking her so long and I saw him walking off the set. I assumed he had forgotten something or had been helping the crew with cleanup."
     .
     .
     .
    "I never touched that girl."
     .
     .
     .
     I'd tuned out most of the trial. I didn't want to hear him defend himself. I didn't want to hear the lawyers call out their objections. I didn't want to hear the judge strike the podium with his gavel.

     I wanted it to be over. I wanted to return to what it had been. I wanted to forget that this man had ever existed and I wanted to fall away into the embrace of my loved ones and I wanted so badly to be free of that stupid glass, or the blaring sun that fixated its gaze on me.

     I'd cooperated with what they wanted, answered the questions from both the lawyers and otherwise remained silent. It was during the final hearing when I snapped.

     I sat in the witness's chair, Jensen, Jared, and Misha sitting in the pews behind my table and staring me down with eyes that were already rimmed with red as my lawyer paced the floor before me.

     "Y/n, this is the moment when you say what you want. I want you to restate what happened to you and I want you to tell the jury how you felt when it happened as well as how you feel now." My lawyer explained to me, and I nodded before clearing my throat. My lawyer stepped away and the eyes of the jury locked on me as I stared at a nick in the wood below my fingers.

     "Uh, we were filming really late," I began, my voice soft, "we got done around 2:00 AM Thursday morning. My companions and I were trying to head home, and I realized that I'd forgotten my phone in my trailer, so I told Jensen and Jared and my driver that I'd be right back and went to retrieve it."

     "I got to my trailer and I closed my door behind me, but I didn't lock it. I was looking for my phone in my bedroom, and after I found it, I turned around and he was there."

    "Who's 'he'?" My lawyer interjected.

    "Clint-- Clint Keith was in my bedroom doorway, blocking it. He had locked my trailer, and I asked why he was in there. Then he pushed me onto my bed and held me-- and he--" I paused, the lump in my throat nearly suffocating me as tears pricked at my eyes, "He raped me."

     "And it hurt." I went on, my voice cracking as more tears rolled from my eyes. A quick glance through my lashes revealed that Jensen, Jared, and Misha were too crying, trying their best to hold themselves together.

     "I was a virgin," I went on, two tears short of sobbing as anger swept in alongside my fear, "I still get pains if I sit the wrong way, and it's like-- it's like it doesn't matter how many showers I take, I still feel impure. I still feel unclean. He ripped away my spirit and he tore apart my pride and he broke me. And every time I close my eyes, every time I try to sleep, all I can see is him and all I can feel is him. And I hate myself for letting this happen to me, and I hate myself for being so afraid."

     "I don't think I can ever be the same girl that I was. People touch me and I flinch, people look at me and I shy away from their gaze. All I want is for this to be over; all I want is to have back the life I did before, and I will never get it because he's taken it away from me. I'm losing my mind because of him."

     My voice grew louder until I was nearly yelling, and when I looked out into the pews I saw that Jensen, Jared, and Misha were all but in hysterics, Jensen chewing his fist as tears streamed down his cheeks and Misha and Jared's faces scrunched into silent sobs that were so much more powerful than anything they'd put on-screen.

     "He has ripped away my dignity and left me some-- some shell-- of the person I used to be! People look at me now, and it's different. It's different because to them, I'm broken, I'm sorry and I'm sad and I need their pity. I never asked for any of this! I never asked to be raped! And to have and hope that maybe one day I can wake up and my life can go back to the way it was is all but pointless!"

     "I used to be strong. I used to think it was me against the world, and I used to think that I'd win. I used to be a kid. Where did that go? Why does he get to take that away from me, and why does he get to do it so effortlessly? Why did it have to be me?"

     My voice fell to all but a whisper and as I fell back into my chair, I realized that some of the jury were wiping furiously at their eyes. "What did I do to deserve this? What did I do wrong?"

     Nobody had it in them to speak for a long time after I fell silent, and when the judge finally did, his voice was thick. "We'll take a recess, and come to a verdict."

    He barely had time to strike his gavel before I'd shot up and speed-walked from the podium toward the door. I heard Misha, Jensen, and Jared behind me, but I ignored them and simply flung the door open, stepping into the hall and tangling my hands in my hair as I hyperventilated and tried to calm my racing heart.

     "Y/n?" Jensen and the others burst through the door, looking around and spotting me. They hurried toward me, and I could practically see how badly they wanted to hug me, but they didn't touch me, "Hey, it's okay. It's over now."

     "What if they don't believe me?" I murmured breathlessly, tears causing my vision to blur madly as I paced back and forth, "What if they let him go? What if he shows back up on set? What if he tries to get to me again?"

     "Y/n, Y/n, hey--" Jared held out his hands and stopped me in my tracks, and I looked up at him with wild eyes-- "none of that is going to happen, okay? Did you see the jury in there? You made them cry. They're on your side."

     "You don't know that!" I exclaimed, swatting his hand away.

     "You're right," Jensen interjected, "We don't. But we believe in you. We believe that these people are smart enough to know the truth when they hear it."

     "And if they aren't?" I asked quietly.

    Misha finished everything out. "Then we'll never leave you alone again."

---

     The jury was gone way too long for my liking. I figured that they'd be out and back in; I hoped they'd be out and back in.

     And by the time the third hour ticked by and they still had not reached a verdict, my glass began to rebuild itself again. I watched and screamed like mad as those cracks began to slowly, oh-so-extremely slowly seal themselves up.

     I didn't know if I had the strength to claw my way out a third time. I didn't know if I was going to get my lego house back.

     The fourth hour brought the jury, much to both my relief and utmost horror as I was led back to my table beside my lawyer. I refused to look at the man who sat less than twenty feet to my left as the jurywoman stood up.

     "Have you come to a conclusion?" The judge asked. The jurywoman nodded, "In the case of the people vs. Clint Keith, the defendant has been charged with sexual assault. What is your verdict?"

     The jurywoman looked down at her paper and everything seemed to freeze in place, and all in a flash I was watching him walk from the room uncuffed and I was watching him come back to set and I was watching him target me all over again.

     And she spoke.

     "We find the defendant-- guilty."

     I expected everything to change. I was stupid to expect everything to change so suddenly. I was stupid to think someone else would change it for me, when I knew I had to be the one to change it.

     I shook my lawyer's hand, and Jensen, Jared, and Misha had made their way forward before anyone else could even move.

     It was almost as if the room knew was coming, for even after the judge struck his gavel and the cops slapped a pair of cuffs over Keith's wrists, no one but my company and I even stood up.

     I turned to walk away and found myself face-to-face with him. The cop who held his hands paused, and I was allowed a moment to gaze into the eyes of the man who broke me.

     And I realized upon looking at him that the glass I was trying so hard to break through was staring back at me from his eyes. He smiled a sinister smile, but my gaze was fixated on that glass in his reflection. I wanted it broken.

    My fist connected with his face before he could even blink and that glass shattered into millions of pieces.

     He reeled back and I heard the room cheer, even the jury giving small whoops and claps as blood dripped from his nose. Jensen, Jared, and Misha looked prouder than I'd ever seen them as they gave surprised grins. Clint grunted and looked to the judge expectantly. "Hello? Isn't that like, illegal?"

     "Well, it's not technically allowed," The judge admitted, "but you deserved it."

    I spun on my heel and my company was quick to follow me as Clint was led from the room. I'd taken care of my glass, but I still had a bucket full of legos and no house.

     I didn't stop walking until I'd reached a secluded corner of the courthouse, Jensen, Jared, and Misha hovering a few feet away from me as I stared at the ground hard, harder than I'd ever before.

    "Y/n?" Jensen. His voice. For the first time since the glass had been put up and the sun had burned, I heard his voice clearly in my ears.

     I looked up at him, and in his eyes I watched the first of my legos be set upon the foundation. Maybe it wouldn't be the same house that it was. But it would be better.

     Maybe I wouldn't be the same girl that I was.

     But I would be better.

     I barreled into his chest hard enough to knock the breath from him as he stumbled backward with a grunt. The obvious surprise left him unable to function for a moment, his arms floating in the air behind me as my own wrapped about his torso and I cried into his shirt, but soon he was sliding them around me and holding me just as tight, tears leaking from his eyes as he pressed his nose into my hair.

     From the corner of my eye, I spotted Jared and Misha, their arms twitching with the want to join my hug, but they forced themselves to keep a distance with tear-stained cheeks instead.

     Smiling, I shifted and held one arm out toward them, and instantly they were crashing into me, earning laughs from Jensen and I as the three of them squished me between their bodies.

     My lego house had been torn down. I gave up on the hope that I could ever be the same person I was.

     But it didn't matter.

     Because I was too busy rebuilding my lego house to worry about who I was.

     And the new one was going to be so much better than it ever had been before.