Disclaimer: I don't own the characters and am only playing with them. The characters belong solely to J. Evanovich and I promise to return them. No copyright infringement intended.

A/N: I've been listening to Three Days Grace again. I'm a bad girl, I know. It's dark, there die three OC's and it's from Hector's POV.

Somebody Help Me Through this Nightmare...

by Katrin

"Oh God, please. No, not again, please. I can't do it again. I need to get out. Please God, make it stop."

I tried to remove my mind from the happenings around me. From what was happening to me so as not to feel the pain. I tried to think back to the last vacation with my family six years ago.

We were at the beach. My mom and my dad, my two younger sisters and my younger brother. I was thirteen at that time. It was a great vacation. We had so much fun, back at home in Mexico. The warm sun was shining down on us and we were having fun in the water when it happened.

Just then I realized that wasn't the best memory to pick out to keep the pain at bay. The situation I was in now was more or less a direct result of that faithful vacation.

While we'd been playing in the water my brother, he was five and it was his last vacation before he started school like the rest of us went further into the water than he should have.

By the time anybody noticed he was already dead. Dead.

The word echoed through my brain, and even now, six years later it hurt so much to think about it.

I'd lost my brother that day. I loved him so much, really loved him. And it was my fault he was dead now. That day all our problems started.

My parents couldn't deal with my brother's death. They were grieving, but so were my sisters and I. Instead of helping us and grieving with us my parents pulled back. I couldn't even remember an occasion after that day when they'd hugged one of us. They never touched us again. It felt as if they held us responsible for what had happened. We'd always been a happy and really tight knit family, but that day changed and destroyed it all. They'd always sent us to school with a kiss, a hug and a blessing. After the death of my little brother it was me who got my sisters out of bed and ready for school, who prepared lunches and made sure they did their homework.

I didn't notice it at first, but my dad started drinking to drain his sorrows. It seemed so harmless at first. The occasional beer here, another one there. But it got worse over time. He didn't stay with beer but went on to the harder stuff. It destroyed him and it destroyed all of us.

Despite all that Mom got pregnant again. I had hopes we'd be a happy family again, but it wasn't meant to be.

In the fifth month of her pregnancy she was having pains. Like labor, but it was early. So early.

Dad drove her to the hospital. At least he tried to. He was full out drunk that day and yet he drove a car. The both of them never made it to the hospital. Dad crashed the car against the slope.

They both died instantly, so at least they didn't have to suffer, but I never forgave Dad for driving drunk out of his mind.

The minutes ticked by since they'd left but we didn't hear anything and we were worried. So worried. After three hours had gone by I called the hospital to inquire about Mom. They didn't know anything and she hadn't been admitted.

Two more nerve-wrecking hours went by until the doorbell rang. I had a really bad feeling, but I went to open the door anyway. There were two cops and I knew what'd happened.

A sharp blow to my kidneys brought my mind back to the present. I didn't know what was hurting more, the physical pain I was suffering or the pain my memories caused me, but I couldn't do anything to stop my thoughts from drifting back to the past.

The cops forced their way into the house to find my two sisters sitting on the couch clinging to each other. They were so frightened.

The cops did nothing for us. They told us what'd happened. They they told me they were sure I'd care of the girls. After that they left without another word.

I didn't know what to do. My sisters were crying and I was crying too, but there was nothing I could say or do to make it all better, to make the pain go away. It hurt so much. Please God, why did you do it? I couldn't understand it. Why did it have to be us.

I dropped out of school the next day. I had to work, earn money to support us, as our parents had left us nearly nothing. It hurt so much, Every day I went about trying to earn money reminded me why I had to do it in the first place and the constant reminder hurt so much.

There was nobody there to help us, no relatives, no neighbors. We were on our own. At the beginning I didn't think we'd manage, but somehow I kept them fed and in clothes, even if we had to struggle.

Going on was really tough and I was hurting so bad. I started drinking too, just like my Dad, and I hated myself for it. I didn't want to be like my Dad who'd destroyed everything. I didn't want to be addicted, but it seemed like the only way for me to deal with the pain and the anger, the hopelessness and despair. The grief and the sorrow.

I did my best to help them, but the girls' grades were dropping and I knew I had to do something. I didn't want them to have to live under a bridge, but there really wasn't much left separating us from that. I tried to find relatives who might help us, but nobody had enough spare money to give. In the end a great-aunt of ours agreed to take the girls, as long as I sent as much money as possible.

I didn't want to leave the girls with her, but she was a nice lady and I really didn't have a choice about it.

Life in Mexico didn't hold a future for me and to make matters worse I hadn't stopped with drinking but had gone on to other drugs as well.

I made my way into the US, but it wasn't the country of unlimited possibilities everybody talked about for me. I started dealing drugs to earn a living ans fell in with a gang. Somehow I ended up in Miami.

I trusted my brothers to have my back, but I shouldn't have. I'd started carrying a gun when my parents died so I could protect my sisters. Actually it was my dad's gun. One night we wanted to pop a car to sell it on the black market. I'd gotten really good with electronics, so they took me along to disable the alarm. We needed money for drugs. That night the cops were onto us. We escaped, but barely.

The fear of going to jail followed me around every day I lived on the streets. It was the fear to fail my sisters that made it so much worse.

I realized that being a gang banger wasn't what I'd come to the US for and I wanted to get out. I couldn't. I had to fight against my brothers but they outnumbered me and I didn't even have a chance. Shots were fired and suddenly everything went black.

When I woke up I was hurting everywhere and my face was really sore and itchy. When I got a chance to look into a mirror I realized why. They'd tattooed me a tear. A gang kill. I'd been branded for life. Any chance of ever making an honest living was gone right out the window.

So I stayed. I sunk deeper into the living in a gang and there was nothing I could do about it. What chance did I have? There was nobody who'd hire a gangbanger who didn't even speak English and with my lack of education I was a lost cause. At least my gang kept me fed and in clothes so I could send some money home. I didn't like it that I was so depended on them. I wanted to have my sisters with me, but we'd never be able to survive. At least I knew they were safe.

And now I'd crossed the wrong people and they were beating the shot out of me. I was sure I'd die and never see my sisters again.

God, please, I'd do everything to see my sisters again one last time.

What brought me back to the present was the realization that they weren't striking out at me anymore and the ware house we were in was silent too.

Suddenly gun shots were fired and all hell broke loose. I didn't know what was happening and I couldn't see much. My eyes were nearly swollen shut. I couldn't even try and get cover. I tried to hang on, to fight the blackness but it was pulling me down and I finally I surrendered. As the darkness closed in around me I felt myself go numb and the pain left my body.

When I woke again I was in a hospital, hooked up to numerous machines. There was a man I didn't know sitting beside my bed and an even larger one standing guard at the door.

"Holá."

The man nodded.

"Who are you?"

"Ranger." He nodded to the other guy, "That's Tank."

"Shit. What do you want from me?"

"Help you."

And help me he did. It has been seven years since the day I woke up in the hospital. That day was a turning leaf for me. I'd told him everything about my life and Ranger did his best to help me. To help me through the nightmare my life had become.

During my life on the streets I'd gotten really good with electronics. I'd learned a lot and Ranger put m to good use in his company. I worked for him and in exchange for that he paid for my education and gave me money to send home. He helped me in every way he could and when it was my twenty-fourth birthday he gave me the best birthday present I'd ever gotten.

He brought my sisters to live with me and then paid for their further education.

When I'd been living on the street I'd come to fear the name Ranger, his reputation was bad and I was really grateful I never got to meet him. But now that he'd gotten me off the streets he was nothing like his reputation.

My sisters and me were living in Trenton now and we were as happy as we could be under the circumstances. I was earning enough for all of us.

But it seemed like every good time comes to an end just like the bad times end. Ranger had an assignment for me. Something that meant the world to him.
It was my turn to guard Bombshell.

Three years after her run in with the Slayers the quiet seemed to change to a silence before the storm. Rumor was they were on the hunt again. Now it was my job to go undercover to figure out what was going on.

I didn't want to leave my sisters. I didn't want to go back to life in a gang. I loved our Bombshell too much not to do everything in my power to keep her breathing.

Ranger and Bombshell had done so much for me. They'd helped me overcome my nightmares. Now it was time to repay the favor.

I might continue this sometime, but for now it's a short. I might be convince to take it further. Up to you! Review and let me know your thoughts, ideas...

For those of you waiting on an update of Birthday Surprises, I promise there's another chapter in the works but my muse went of on vacation and RL is incredibly busy at the moment. Hang in there, please.