A/N: First of all, I'm so sorry for my recent absence, between work and traveling back and forth from my apartment to my hometown everything has been quite a mess. I think my activity on here will continue to be sporadic for a short while, but I'm finally getting back in the groove with this. I'm a little nervous about this chapter, so I deeply apologize if it's not well done. This chapter is a little (well very) rough, due to a time jump and my overall lack of medical knowledge.

Secondly, I'm going to post a trigger warning for sexual assault at the end of this chapter (I know this ruins what happens but I would rather people be prepared since this is a sensitive subject that unfortunately affects so many people). If the way I portray it in this story is offensive in anyway, please let me know because I surely do not intend to post anything that is offensive or hurtful to anyone. This is going to be a rough chapter, but I appreciate all of the support that I have been getting throughout this story.

-o-o-o-

The hospital waiting area was bright and white. It wasn't cheerful nor comforting, and instead it was sterile and mechanical, and seemed to make Jean Louise think that a whole lot of dying occurred here. The hospital was small, just like the town, but at this moment it seemed huge to her. It reminded her of the time she was twelve, just waiting and waiting and waiting after Jem had his heart attack on the football field. It was as though she was twelve again, young and naïve and wishing that everything would be fine in the end.

She had tried not to cry, but the fact that they were being kept away from Louise for so long while being given minimal information (she's alive…but not awake…not responsive…wouldn't be a surprise if she were in pain) was enough to make Jean Louise lose all control of her emotions. She sat a few seats away from her brother, her arms crossed at her chest and face nearly raw from the tears she let freely fall down her face.

Jack was not with them. Upon arriving to the hospital after discovering her unconscious on their bathroom floor, he had been told that since he had no true familial relation to Louise he would not be allowed to be with her while they ran tests—so he lied, saying that they had secretly eloped, that he was actually her husband. They allowed him with her, but Jean Louise doubted they actually believed him—she knew her uncle would have gone off like a crazy person until he finally got his way. Jean Louise wasn't sure if she actually wanted him with them, however. She could not recall a moment in her life where Jack was anything but jovial and lighthearted and she knew that he wouldn't be that way in this circumstance.

"Wanna drink?" Jem asked, clearing his throat. "Coffee or water or somethin'?"

He had been fidgeting the entire time they had been there. Tapping his foot, running a hand through his messy hair, sliding so far down in his seat it looked like he was going to fall off it. He was going crazy, just as she was, but she was certainly better at hiding it. "No," she responded curtly. He opened his mouth as if he was to say something, but changed his mind before departing.

Atticus and Alexandra were away from her (Jean Louise purposefully sat away from her family). Atticus had brought a book with him and skimmed through it for a short while before putting it on the ground underneath his chair while Alexandra occasionally sniffed and rubbed at her eyes. For some reason, Jean Louise was furious at her Aunt. Alexandra always had something condescending to say towards Louise and always seemed to not like the other woman and Jean Louise couldn't help but to think that this was all some sort of sick show her aunt was putting on.

Her eyes and throat burned, and she soon regretted the fact that she declined Jem's offer of a beverage. She had lost track of how long they had been waiting in this awful silence, but it felt like an eternity of agony. She could feel her heart pounding as though it was a scared bird caught in a cage, and wished that something would happen. She couldn't believe that it had been mere hours since she had fought with Louise and then fought with Hank. She should've gone back to Louise's after the Eddy, she thought to herself as another wave of tears fell from her eyes, she should've gone back and at least noticed something was wrong.

Maybe then she wouldn't be sitting in silence.

She obviously couldn't remember the day Eugenia died, but she wondered if Jem and Atticus associated it with the same feelings of misery and regret that she was associating with this day. She wondered if they wished they had done something different in the days leading up to Eugenia's death, if there was something that could have been done to prevent it. Were people always this blind to things like this happening?

When Jem came back with an extra glass of water for her, she pretended that she didn't want it despite the fact that she was grateful he thought of her. When he wasn't looking she guzzled the entire thing in just a few sips, hardly feeling satisfied. She wanted to scream, to cry out, to do something besides just sit here and wait in excruciating silence.

But none of that would make Louise alright.

She couldn't imagine anyone understanding just how incredibly stupid she was feeling at that very moment. She damaged so many good aspects of her life for Hank, and now it could well possibly be too late for her to be able to fix anything. A flood of emotions suddenly hit her as she realized she regretted saying yes to the debutante ball, regretted asking Hank to go, and most certainly regretted hurting her relationship with her favorite aunt over a boy who wasn't even worth it. He was brash and selfish and rude and everyone had been right when they said that Jean Louise had no business talking to someone the likes of him. And now she was trapped.

Though, the more trapped she felt, the more determined she was to get herself out of this situation.

She'd cancel it all, she decided. The debutante ball, the courtship (if you could even call it that) with Hank, everything. She wouldn't be like her Eugenia, who stayed with Emmett even when he made her feel like a prisoner, she'd free herself and everything would go back to normal.

Though she knew that wasn't possible, not really.

First of all, what if Aunt Louise died? What if she fell victim to the same heart disease that took the lives of so many other members of her family? Even if she did survive, she certainly wouldn't be the same woman she was before—she'd be frail and sickly—exactly what she never wanted to become. Secondly, no matter what the circumstance was, Alexandra would be furious at the fact that Jean Louise would want to stop her participation in the debutante ball. Alexandra had already spent a lot of time and money ensuring that this would be a good night, and Jean Louise would ruin it. She didn't even want to think about Hank and his bubbling anger over the fact that she would no longer let him control her or her actions. She couldn't imagine what is reaction would be, and frankly, she didn't want to.

But she knew she had to do all of this.

-o-o-o-

Jean Louise was the first one to see Jack enter the waiting room the next morning—all of them (to Aunt Alexandra's dismay) had spent the night in the waiting room in hopes that Jack would come out sooner rather than later. Despite the fact that they hadn't been in the hospital a full twenty-four hours, it looked as though Jack hadn't shaved in three days, and there were bags forming under his eyes indicating that he had spent the entire night awake. He didn't have his usual smirk on his face, and his eyes lacked the glisten they always seemed to carry. Instead his face was blank and expressionless as he approached his family. At that moment, they were all expecting the worst.

"She made it through the night," he explained, and Jean Louise immediately felt weightless. He swallowed hard before clearing his throat. "It was touch and go, actually—just for a short while, but she's better than before. She was out cold for most of the time, her heart had stopped beating when she had come in and they gave her a batch of different medicines to see which ones would work…partially the reason why things got a little questionable, to be honest…but they found some that stabilized everything and she's actually wakin' up a bit now. She's real groggy, but that's completely normal. They think she'll be fine, but they want her here for the foreseeable future, to do tests and make sure nothin' happens again." She could hear both her and Jem audibly exhale, as though they had been holding their breaths the entire time their uncle had been talking. Fresh tears formed in Jean Louise's eyes again, threatening to fall free.

"Well, that's a miracle," Aunt Alexandra said, her voice almost at a whisper.

"Has anyone called Hattie?" Jack asked, looking around at his family members. "Lou was askin' for her when she was wakin' up."

The four Finch's looked exchanged glances, awkward expressions on each of their faces. In all of the excitement, all of them had failed to call Harriet, the youngest Graham sister. Jean Louise couldn't help but wonder how her other Aunt would feel about being kept in the dark for this long. Jack seemed to have noticed that none of them had tried to contact her, sighed and said: "I'll go call her now," before adding. "I'm sure Dr. Reynolds would let you see Louise." And as quickly as he came, he was gone.

-o-o-o-

Louise had fallen back asleep before they had a chance to come in the room, and Jean Louise couldn't help but to think that her aunt looked like a child in that big white bed. It didn't help that Louise was small to begin with—hardly reaching five feet tall—but the fact that she had gotten so sick before being admitted to the hospital made it even worse. She was pale, thinner than she had ever been in her life, and actually looked close to death (though Jean Louise couldn't really say that she had seen anyone close to death before). At first Atticus allowed just her and Jem some time with their aunt, and for a few moments the two of them just stood there awkwardly, watching their aunt's chest slowly rise and fall as she breathed.

"I caught a glimpse of mama," he whispered to her. "When she died, I mean. She looked like this 'cept she had blonde hair and was a little bit taller."

She scowled. "Why," she whispered harshly. "In the hell would you tell me that?"

All he could do in response was shrug.

-o-o-o-

The first thing that Harriet did when she saw her sister in the hospital bed was cling onto Jem and Jean Louise for a full five minutes. When she had burst through the doors of the hospital room (still not waking Louise, despite the fact that it had been nearly five hours since they had all entered) she looked flustered. She hadn't been crying, though it was obvious that the woman was visibly upset. Her dress was wrinkled and looked as though she had thrown it on haphazardly and her blonde hair was framed her face in a bunch of frizzy curls. Louise frequently stated that of all of the Graham sisters, Eugenia and Harriet looked the most alike, and Jean Louise couldn't help but wonder if this is what her mother looked like whenever she was under duress.

When Harriet finally let go of her niece and nephew, she looked down at her sister, and sighed. "She looks like Edie," she whispered, referring to her mother. Jean Louise wondered if Harriet meant Louise looked like Edie had just before she died—just like Jem referred to seeing their mother dead.

It took another hour for Louise to wake up.

It began with her clearing her throat. Then, she began gripping the bedsheets besides her as she attempted to sit up, her eyes still closed. Finally (and with much struggle—the lights were too bright) she opened her eyes, seemingly alarmed to see all of those family members in the hospital room. The moment she began stirring, Jack had rose to his feet, at the ready to get anything she might need. Jean Louise felt her eyes burning again.

"You all look like you've seen a ghost," she said, her voice hoarse, a small smile growing on her face. "Can someone fetch me a glass of water?"

Without saying or doing anything, Jack left swiftly in order to get the water. Mindlessly, Jean Louise went towards Louise and threw her arms around the woman, beginning to sob. "This isn't the type of water I wanted," she said cheekily, trying to show her niece she was alright. "But it's fine all the same."

-o-o-o-

Despite the fact that she would ultimately be deemed healthy, Louise was forced to stay in the hospital for a month. She was frequently chastised by the nurses and Dr. Reynolds alike for not taking her health as seriously as she should—her heart issues obviously ran in the family, and if she had been more proactive about her health, all of this could have been prevented. Once it was certain that everything was going to be fine, everybody felt at ease again. Alexandra stopped crying and Atticus stopped acting so awkwardly, Harriet began teasing Louise about her current state while Jem wasn't as fidgety and Jack seemed to be himself again.

And Jean Louise was almost thankful for all of this happening.

It wasn't as though she was glad her aunt had a heart attack (she certainly wasn't), but the fact that Dr. Reynolds kept her in the hospital for so long meant that she didn't have to deal with Hank. Most of her days were now either spent at the hospital with Lou, Hattie and Jack or with Atticus at the office where she helped him and Jem on all of the work they got behind on during this ordeal. The only time she caught glimpses of Hank was when she was coming home to shower and change her clothes, or from the window of her father's office as he was going into the Jitney Jungle for work. She wasn't forced to be with him or think about the debutante ball or any of that stuff—instead she was allowed to focus on her aunt without any interference.

And for that she was incredibly grateful.

Even in August, when Louise was released from the hospital and allowed to go back to her home, Jean Louise still did not have much time to see Hank. Harriet had gone back to her husband in Montgomery, and Jean Louise began spending almost every waking moment at her Aunt and Uncle's house. While Louise was at the hospital, Jean Louise had the chance to apologize to her aunt for everything she had done for Hank's sake. Her relationship with her Aunt was better than ever, and she chose to spend her spare time keeping her Aunt company and helping out around her house rather than being with Hank.

One night, nearly a week after Louise had been released from the hospital, when Jean Louise had gone home to grab some extra clothes, Alexandra had cleared her throat and requested to speak to her niece in private. Instantaneously, Jean Louise felt her heart jump up to her throat, knowing that Alexandra was going to chastise her about the debutante ball.

"Yes, Aunty?" Jean Louise asked, trying to be polite. Despite the fact that she was absolutely terrified, she was going to tell her aunt the truth—that this entire debutante thing was a mistake.

"I've come to a decision," she said firmly, clasping her hands together. "With the debutante ball in less than a month—"

"I don't think I should do it," she interrupted quickly, her voice strained and shaky. Alexandra widened her eyes.

"If you were patient enough to let me finish," she remarked. "You would've heard me say that I've decided we shouldn't do this year's ball."

"I just don't think it's the right time, with Aunt Lou being sick and everything, and Hank is just…" Louise began breathlessly before realizing what her aunt had said. "Wait, what?"

Aunt Alexandra looked mildly pleased with herself. "You're miserable, Jean Louise," she replied. "With your Aunt being sick and us moving this month, you're downright miserable and it would be wise for you to focus on those changes in your life rather than a debutante ball. I also told that Mr. Clinton that I refuse to help him any longer… his actions are repugnant despite my best efforts and I refuse to allow him to besmirch the Finch name with his distasteful behavior."

Jean Louise reckoned she should have at least been slightly insulted by what her Aunt had said, but instead found herself feeling increasingly overjoyed by the fact that it was Alexandra saying they should back out of the debutante ball. "He had the audacity to argue with me today," she explained. "He was very…crude. I told him that I thought this entire thing was a mistake, and if I ever caught him talking to you again he'd deeply regret it."

He would surely be angry about that. He didn't like Alexandra in the first place, and the fact that he was telling him what to do had to have been a sore spot for him.

But she didn't care.

"I appreciate everything you've done, Aunty," she said, trying to make it seem as though she had been grateful for this entire mess. "And I'm sorry Hank was such an ass about the entire thing."

Usually, Alexandra would have been angry at Jean Louise using such language, and while she didn't look amused, she didn't have anything negative to say. "Surely, if we went along with this, it would be a disaster. I think next year's debutante ball will be much better."

Jean Louise would just have to deal with that another day.

-o-o-o-

By the time she had gathered up the belongings to take to Jack and Louise's, it had become dark and still outside. The air was still hot and muggy, and made Jean Louise sweat as she traveled from her home to Louise's. Despite the fact that she was still quite upset by the fact that she had to move, she found herself happy that there'd at least be a shorter walk to Jack and Louise's house.

"Hey, Scout," a voice whispered from somewhere behind her when she was halfway towards Louise's house. "Scout, c'mere."

Immediately, she realized it was Hank. Scowling, she turned swiftly and saw him standing there, leaning against his car with his hands jammed into his pockets. "C'mere." He said again.

"My Aunt's expectin' me."

"Just come to the Eddy with me," he said. "I want to talk to you about Alexandra."

She rolled her eyes. "It's a Tuesday and it's dark," she said. "No one will be there."

"I want to talk to you in private."

"I have to go, Hank."

Quickly, he approached her. He put a firm hand on her upper arm and had a mischievous smile on his face. "Please, Scout," he said, his sandy hair falling into his eyes. "I just want to talk to you for fifteen minutes—I want to tell you how sorry I am about this entire debutante ball thing—then you can go right to your Aunty's, she won't even notice you're late."

As she looked into his eyes, she remembered the boy that she and Jem had played with in childhood. She remembered reenacting books and movies with him on their front porches. She remembered him having to grow up too fast. She remembered him staying while Dill did not. A flood of guilt washed over her.

"Fine," she said, firmly grasping onto her belongings. "Just fifteen minutes."

The car ride to the Eddy was hot and quiet. The only things she could hear was the humming of the wheels beneath his car and the distant sound of bugs outside. When they got there, he quietly directed her to their usual spot—by the water and away from the sidewalk. It must have been late because they were the only ones there, and the entire area was silent, giving Jean Louise an eerie feeling.

"Your Aunt's a bitch," he said bluntly, digging his foot into the dirt. "She told me I ruined the entire debutante bullshit."

"She said you weren't very nice to her,"

"I didn't think I had to be,"

"I think it's only common courtesy." She replied curtly.

"You and your family and these stupid manners," he spat. "Do you know how pretentious you all look?"

She felt her cheeks heat up as though they were engulfed in heat. "I don't understand why I'm here," she replied. "I'm leaving."

When she had turned to go, he grabbed her arm so hard it forced her to drop the things she had intended to bring to Louise's (for some reason she had refused to let go of them), making her angry. "I don't understand what you want," she said. "My entire family was right about you—you're trash and I'm leavin'—"

Forcefully, he put his wrist over her mouth while she was in mid-sentence, causing her to choke. "Listen," he said, his amber eyes meeting her brown ones. "You owe me for all the dumb etiquette lessons and suit fittings and lectures from both Alexandra and Louise."

Her breathing became so quick she was nearly hyperventilating as she attempted to bite down on his wrist and scratch at him at the same time. As she continued to struggle, he pushed her to the ground. It was then she was able to kick him (she wasn't sure where) and attempt to run away. Ignoring the clothes she had thrown on the ground, she began running, though she didn't make it far.

He kicked her behind the knee, causing her to fall on the ground once again. Before she could scramble to her feet, he had pinned her to the ground. "Hank," she whispered, nearly pleading. "Hank, what are you doing?"

The memories of the little boy playing with her and Jem became tarnished. Instead, Henry Clinton was now a being of anger and rage—a person who couldn't control himself. He was no longer the childhood friend she had fond memories of.

Instead he was her worst nightmare.

He pressed his wrist down on her throat, making it impossible for her to breath. As her eyes welled up and she choked for air, she couldn't help but wonder when Hank had transformed into such a spiteful monster. "You're not going to make a noise," he said sweetly, though she now knew him for what he really was—evil. "I can easily do that again."

"Hank," she whispered. "Hank, please stop."

He looked as though he was about to strike her, but refrained. "If you don't move, this'll be over soon enough."

As he maneuvered his way to the lower half of her body, she felt her chest heave in and out in a frenzy of panic, and she felt as though he was choking her all over again. Fearing what would happen if she cried out or tried to fight him, she allowed her tears to roll down her face as she closed her eyes and prayed for it to be over.