A/N: Rest assured, my crossover is still happening. I just had this idea pop up and I didn't want to rush through my other story because I wanted to get to this one.

As always, please follow and review. I love to hear from each and every one of you.


Adrian stood up in the circle, putting his hands together.

"Everyone," he beamed. "We have a newcomer this evening."

Jade stared down at her feet, focusing on the silver loops her laces ran through. She hoped that if she pretended not to see or hear them, she would disappear.

"Oh come, on…"

No such luck.

"You're among friends," Adrian looked at Jade.

"It's okay, sweetie" an elderly woman put her hand on the dark-haired girl's knee.

"Can you at least tell us your name for starters," Adrian offered.

"Jade," she said just slightly above a whisper.

"Hello Jade," the support group said in almost perfect unison.

"Anything you want to share with us today?"

Jade shook her head.

"It's alright," Adrian's eyes looking concerned. "Next time. You can just listen and get to know the group." He looks around the circle and points to a tall man with a goatee. "Scott, how have you been progressing?"

"Okay," the man addressed at Scott responded. "I have been doing well with your exercise of taking out my notebook and writing down positive thoughts every time I get the urge."

"That's terrific. Thank you. Everybody, let's join hands and show our new friend the affirmation."

Once again, they spoke in unison:

I cannot always control my life

But I have power over my death.

I will use my hands to create

And not destroy.

Especially myself.

We will not allow the darkness to break us

But use it to appreciate the light much more.

Jade watched the chant and everybody sitting down again. She heard the other speaking their peace until the session was over but not really listening. She was just periodically watching the clock for it to end.

Her hand had this nervous habit of going underneath the sleeve and rubbing her arm. Jade couldn't help but notice the raised lines that were all over. She stopped at the really big one (which still had bandages on it) at the wrist.

Jade's dad found her in the bathtub with one of his old-fashioned straight razors. Her already delicate complexion turned a severely dangerous white contrasted with the dripping crimson around her.

Jade had been cutting for a couple years in secret, only caught once or twice, but she never crossed that threshold of trying to kill herself until that fateful summer night.

It drove Jade' parents crazy because they didn't know why she was doing this to herself and it depressed them too because she was a fiercely independent girl and it was only a matter of time that she would obtain the opportunity to do it again.

And this time, nobody would find her in time. Her mother knew that Jade would make sure of that. People don't think about much suicide attempts. They believe that a person who is feeling down is asking for help. Once they are "stopped," then the healing can begin. Jade was one of many who nobody considered to not only capable but determined to end their life.

Frustrated, the Wests enrolled Jade into a therapy group. They haven't had luck in the past with typical psychologists. Perhaps hearing other people like her that went through what she is going through as opposed to somebody reading out of a book was best for her. They have heard nice things about this "Arms to Hold" group. A few veterans have not only made it through their troubles but have turned to start their own support organizations.

"Hey, sweetheart" Jade's mother stood up and hugged her daughter whose arms remained down the entire time. The two of them never got along but since the divorce, she has become more pleasant and Jade has…an easier time with her.

"Can we go now?" Jade softly asked.

"Sure," she took Jade by the hand and caressed her thumb against her knuckles. "Are you tired? Do you want something to eat?"

Jade shook her head. "Not hungry, mom. Thanks."

"Okay," she looked around nervously. "Then let's just go to the car."

"Fine," Jade followed her outside the municipal center.


"Hey mom," Jade looked up from her bed. "Where are my pens."

"Away. Use your laptop, okay?"

Jade shrugged and took out the Pearbook and began typing out words to a poem she has been working on. A part of her understood her mother taking those ballpoint pens she preferred using away from her. Under the circumstances, it was probably not the worst idea. But just because Jade understood why didn't mean she had to like it.

After hitting save, Jade read it over from start to finish, or rather where she stopped. She bit her lip and deftly closed the computer. Sliding it under her bed and turning off the nightstand light, Jade got underneath the covers.

She rolled to her side and took out a photo from under her pillow. It was from when her and her friends went to the beach. She stared at the happy people. Well, one in particular. Not even aware of how Jade was looking them. Jade squinted her eyes and allowed the waterworks to flow freely.

It wouldn't be the first night she would cry herself to sleep.

Jade longed for the day when she wouldn't have to wake up and face her crumbling world.