Support groups; or in other words a gathering for people who provide care and companionship to one another who share a common experience. They're comprised of people who have personally been through the problem themselves; they offer metaphorical and literal shoulders to lean and cry on. Because of the shared understanding they have for the issue, it comforts them all in knowing that someone truly does understand everything you're going through; they understand your thoughts, your actions, your beliefs, they currently understand you better than your own family and friends. Coming together provides an opportunity to feel less alone; you feel less isolated. It's a delicate subject, and the sensitive nature of it is already hard to talk about, but it makes it a little less difficult when you're surrounded by people who understand completely what you're saying. Your words, your emotions and your actions need no justification because they get it; they know.

Erin is the new girl in the support group; however she isn't the outsider. She isn't left feeling excluded or different. All of them, every single last person sitting in the semi-circle was brought together because of one inhumane act done upon them; sexual assault. Men and women from different walks of life, different pasts, different presents and different futures were all joined together because of a shared trauma. Different support groups focus on different issues or problems in one's life. She doesn't know how these things go; she doesn't know what to do and what to say; all she knows is she hopes it helps. Erin is nervous; what if she says the wrong thing, what if she reacts in the wrong way and what if she doesn't say anything at all. What if this is pointless, but what if this is exactly what she needs?

It has been ten minutes into her first support group meeting. The first few minutes were filled with small talk, eating from the snack table and choosing seats for the session. Erin had spoken to the facilitator –Susan- when she scheduled herself in for the support group meeting; she's a twenty year survivor of rape and now she spends her time hosting support groups, speaking at criminal justice reform conferences and advocating for sexual assault victims. She was a busy woman; Erin had met her briefly and already admired everything about her.

"As all of you have noticed," Susan rises from her seat –the meeting has officially started- and she began to speak, "we have a new survivor joining us today." She nods her head in Erin's direction, "How about you introduce yourself?"

She waves, "Hi. I'm Erin."

"Hi Erin," the greeting was spoken unanimously by everyone in the room.

"I…I uh," Erin clears her throat; this is uncomfortable for her, "I really don't know what to say."

Susan chimes in, "Tell us about yourself."

"I'm 27." She lists off facts –nothing personal- she's not there yet, "I'm married. I've been married for five years."

"What does your husband do?" The woman sitting next to her –Tanya- asks kindly. She's older, around the age of Erin's mother, and the smile on her face is comforting.

"He's a detective."

A young guy –Ronald- smirked and responded casually, "I bet this didn't bold well for him."

"I don't think this would have bolded well for anyone."

This wasn't what Erin expected; sure she didn't know exactly what to expect, but this wasn't it. The atmosphere was light, there was no pressure placed upon her and she liked that. Everyone spoke to her like nothing happened. They didn't coddle her or treat her like some fragile thing that could break at any second. Just from the short conversation, she knew she would find herself returning. With each meeting, she knew she'll eventually loosen and respond as casual and consoling as they are responding to her.

A woman sitting across from her –Jen- calls out her question, "What do you do?"

"I'm a public defender."

"That's ironic."

She turns to face Ronald after his remark, "What is?"

"You defend the people who are like the ones that did this to us."

"…not all the time," Erin comments; her gaze falling to the floor, "Sometimes they're innocent." Her eyes focus on the tiled floors; tracing each pattern in her attempt to avoid eye contact, "Sometimes they're guilty." She looks up and meets Ronald's eyes, "And sometimes I think about quitting, especially after the attack." A broken smile falls upon her face and she almost immediately wipes it away, "I'm not sure though. Now, I'm not sure about a lot of things."

It was the first time she mentioned the attack since she spoke. No one in the room wanted to brush upon the topic with her until she brought it up first. Sexual assault can range from different types of things, and different types of scales. Each person in the room has a different story to tell but it all comes together under one category; sexual assault. It was the large metaphorical elephant in the room. Everyone knew that each other had suffered some type of sexual assault, but for some, the details were still untold and unclear. No one is forced to speak. You share what you feel absolutely comfortable with sharing.

"What brought you here?" Susan took a hold of her seat; one leg crossed over the other and her hands were intertwined on top of her lap, "…besides the attack."

"I wanted to talk to people who understood," Erin uses her fingers to brush a few strands of hair behind her ear, "I feel like no matter how many times I talk to my parents, or my husband or my friends, they just don't get it. I want to talk to someone who does."

"That's what brought a lot of us here," Ronald nods in agreement. He leaned forward, and reached his arm over Tanya in order to pat Erin's shoulder. She wasn't the only one. They all had wanted that, and he couldn't speak for everyone in the room, but he knew most of the people here only signed up for that exact same reason.

From the feeling of Ronald's hand on her shoulder, they loosened. She relaxed. Her eyes closed and she sucked in a large breath of air before releasing it, "It's not their fault. I know that, but sometimes, I can't help but take out my anger on them."

"They're easy targets," Jen added; nodding along in understanding.

Susan chimes in, "Yeah, they're there all the time; they're easy targets and you need to let that anger and frustration out. I bet they don't hold it against you. They understand."

"They shouldn't have to though." Erin's voice rises and breaks, "Stuff like this shouldn't happen! Groups like this shouldn't even exist because the thing that brought us together shouldn't even be a thing; it shouldn't exist!" Erin is panting; she's out of breath, but it doesn't stop her outpouring of emotion, "Why do people have to do sick things? Because their life sucks, do they just wake up one day and decide to make someone else's life suck too? How can someone just do that? How can someone just be content in ruining someone else's life? Do they sleep at night? Because I can't; I can't sleep because of what some sicko did!" Her voice strengthens itself and she takes the opportunity to look around at everyone. No one is surprised by her outburst. No one is silently judging her. They're just letting her speak and they're all listening intently. Each set of eyes focused on her, and her tense shoulders relax once more, "I'm sorry," her lips press together and she apologetically shrugs, "I didn't mean to go on a rant. I should save that for my therapist."

"No, this is an open space," Susan corrects her; she's smiling kindly. Her face and voice almost as comforting and soothing as Tanya's, "we've all been there Erin. You can say whatever you like. Do not even hesitate."

Tanya shifts her body to face Erin, "Want to talk about it?"

"…the attack?" Erin looks at her.

She nods, "Yeah."

"There's not much to say." She responds; she has everyone's undivided attention. Their curiosity evident on their faces, "The guy is still out there…free, and hopefully not hurting other people."

"It's been four years for me and the guy who hurt me is still free too." Tanya responds; the wrinkles on her face crease deeper inwards as she tries to put on a brave face for the new girl.

Ronald clears his throat, "It's been six years for me. My wife got off. It's hard for the public to grasp spousal rape, especially when a female is the aggressor."

Erin didn't know if she was ready or not, but she wanted to give it a chance. It was one thing telling the police and her family about what happened, but all of these people were strangers. Before today, she has never seen or met any of them. It was harder than it looked to actually lower the defensive walls you build around yourself to let new people in. She wants to try though. If she wants to get and feel better, she'll have to put forth the effort.

With a sigh of the mouth, Erin pushes down upon her seat and sits up straight, "The guy who hurt me was really trying to hurt my dad."

"Your dad?" The response comes from Joe; he's a two year survivor.

"Hank Voight…he's a sergeant."

Ronald's brows crease as he retorts, "Your family is all in the law enforcement field."

"It just makes me a bigger target you can say." Erin speaks in nonchalance; she acts indifferent. If it were one of them, the idea of being a bigger target would scare the crap out of them. For Erin, she's been used to it her whole life. No one her dad has arrested actually had the balls to go through with hurting her or her mother, but threats were still given to her dad warning him against investigating and arresting them.

Jen speaks up, "This isn't your fault."

"What makes you think I blame myself?"

"…because we've been where you are." Jen answers; the heel of her foot is tapping nervously, rhythmically and regularly against the tiled floor, "It may have been months and years since ours, but we've all been there." She's a five month survivor, and before Erin signed up and joined, she was the new girl.

Ronald chimes in, "And we're all here, you know, in case you need us."

"You don't have to hold back," Joe reminded. Some of the people he first met at the support group were no longer in attendance during regular sessions, but that's what they told him. It helped hi, and he wanted to do the same for her.

Susan added, "You can be honest with us about anything."

"Can we not focus on me right now?" Erin hated to request it, but she had enough of being the center of attention. She needed a break. She needed to hear from someone else.

"Of course…like we've said, we've all been where you are." Susan rises from her seat, "You just met us. We don't know each other that well. You need time to warm up to us. It's normal…even for people not in support groups. No one feels comfortable telling strangers all of their personal thoughts and emotions. We understand Erin." Susan walks over to the podium to prepare for the next segment of their session, "Now, I know we don't usually do guest speakers, but this woman was the first person I myself personally helped. She's an eight year survivor, and she hasn't been back to a meeting in years. We've kept in touch and recently she shared something with me that I thought would be good for you all to hear," Susan holds her pointer finger up to the members, "Let me see if she's here. She didn't want to come in until the personal session was over."

Susan briefly disappeared, leaving a quiet Erin rocking back and forth slowly. She felt Tanya's comforting hand rest upon her knee and she couldn't help but think of her own mother. She wouldn't know what to do if someone victimized her mother like they did Tanya. Tanya was someone's mother like Erin was someone's daughter, and Erin couldn't fathom the thought of someone hurting Camille; she'd honestly see red and there would be no stopping her. Erin's hand finds comfort atop of Tanya's resting hand; she places her own palm above Tanya's, and she gives the older woman a kind smile, "Thank you."

"I have a daughter a little older than you," Tanya whispers; her eyes fall upon their joined hands, "We're estranged. We haven't spoken to each other since my attack."

Erin turns to face her; she didn't understand. Why would her own daughter completely shut herself out of her mother's life, especially after what happened? Erin squeezes her hand, "Why?"

"She blamed herself," Tanya's eyes glaze over; she's thinking about the last time she saw her, "She held herself responsible. Every time she saw me, she thought about it…and I assume she figured getting out of my life would help her heal."

"…but what about you?"

"To be honest," Tanya cleared her throat, "I blamed her in the beginning too, but Susan helped me. All of these beautiful men and women helped me…and they're going to help you too. I'm going to help you Erin."

Before Erin could express her appreciation, Susan reentered the room. She heard the heels on Susan's feet click against the tiled floor. Her eyes are focused straight as she stares at the podium, and soon enough Susan walks up behind it, "Everyone this is Sylvie; she's a paramedic for the Chicago Fire Department."

"Hi Sylvie," the greeting is spoken in unison once more. Erin is the only one who stays silent.

Sylvie waves at the small group of men and women, "Hi everyone," Her hands approach the edge of the podium and she grips onto it tightly, "Um, I'm not really good at public speaking and I haven't been back to one of these meetings in years, so, here it goes," Her eyes are focused downward; she's trying to look at anything, but the crowd, "I'll start off by saying what Susan said to me the first time we met," Sylvie raises her eyes and the second she does, they meet with Erin's; without a second to spare, Erin excuses herself to go to the restroom, Sylvie's words fading out in her ears, "she uh…sorry, she told me that hope for a better future begins by making peace with your past.

Erin walks out of the room; she's in desperate need of some fresh air. She finds the exit and she pushes through it. This isn't an anonymous meeting, but it was supposed to have some anonymity. Last names, addresses, etc.…aren't required to attend a meeting. She wasn't supposed to know anyone. It's the evening, and the cold brisk air sweeps through her opened jacket. Her head is tilted up –eyes shut tight- she inhales a long intake of breath. Erin hates surprises; she hates being caught off guard, and she definitely hates it when she thinks she knows someone, but then finds out she doesn't know them at all. Sylvie had visited her in the hospital and said nothing. She needed someone to talk to all this time and Sylvie said nothing. Meetings didn't usually go over an hour, and Erin knew the hour was approaching its end. With a deep breath, a clear of the throat, and a fake plastered smile, Erin simply turned on her heel and headed back into the building. As she made her way closer and closer to the main room, she could hear Sylvie. Her speech was over and she heard her call on someone; it was Tanya.

"You mentioned that you wanted to start coming back to meetings, and Susan mentioned that you stopped. What changed your mind?"

She remained standing in the hallway; her ears listening in, "A close friend of mine was recently sexually assaulted. It brought back some not so pleasant memories. It's one thing when you put it behind you, but then when it happens to someone close to you, it can bring it all back." Soon enough, echoes of clapping vibrated through the halls; Sylvie must have been done.

With her head held high, she powerwalked back into the main room, grabbed her purse, and had every intention of waving goodbye at each person before leaving. Her husband dropped her off and she was supposed to text him a few minutes in advance for him to know when to come and pick her up. She reaches into her purse for her cell phone, and the second she pulls it out, Sylvie taps upon her shoulder, "Hi Erin."

"What do you want?" She's closed off; she's speaking at the paramedic as if she's a stranger.

"The meeting is over, and I didn't get here early enough to get a snack. I was going to head out for some food and I thought you could join me."

"Why?" Her phone is clenched in her hand, "Why do you want to talk to me now? I don't know where you've been for the last two and a half weeks."

"I needed time."

Sylvie's stomach growls and Erin clearly hears it, "Alright…we can get food next door and then I'm leaving. I have to text my husband to pick me up in an hour from the restaurant next door." As she informs Sylvie, she sends Jay a quick text.

Sylvie and Erin toss out goodbyes and see you next week to every person in the room. They both have every intention of returning; Sylvie knows it's helpful and Erin has heard from everyone in the room how beneficial these meetings will eventually be. They'll pay off in the end. As the two women walk outdoors and venture to the restaurant a few feet away; they're quiet. Sylvie is sweet and kind, and Erin is the same, but she has a tough and angry side that can scare anyone. Sylvie doesn't know what to say. She wants to break the silence, but she doesn't know how.

"That day," Erin decides to speak up as they walk into the restaurant, "…the day you visited me at the hospital. You barely said anything." Hardly anyone is here and the two women seat themselves. They're given menus and brought water, before their waiter –Harris- disappears.

"…it's because I understood that it's nothing I could have said to make you feel better," Sylvie is honest with her; that day in the hospital, she let Gaby and Stella do the talking because she's been in Erin's shoes and she knew that Erin was most likely not even listening to what they had to say. Sylvie places a straw in her water, "I didn't talk because…you've heard everything Erin. You didn't need to hear it again." And that was the truth; Erin hated when she received visitors because they all said the same exact thing. Their faces may have changed, but their words were all the same. It was a repeated cycle. It was never-ending. Sylvie silently sips her water, "And we all know that it's easy to give advice to others, but when it comes time for us to take our own advice, that's a hard pill to swallow. I didn't want to offer advice because I would be a hypocrite. Half of the advice I would tell you, I didn't even follow myself."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to take the focus off of you," Sylvie informs; her eyes skimming the contents on the menu, "The people who needed to know, knew. I didn't want you looking at me for answers. We all react to trauma differently and neither reaction is wrong, so I didn't want you looking at me for confirmation that you're reacting properly."

Harris returns –takes their orders- and then leaves once more. He wasn't happy to be at work, but he didn't let it impact his ability to do his job. He was quick, and he constantly checked on them to make sure they had everything they could possibly need.

"When I was sad," Erin stares down at the empty placemat –it's patiently waiting for the hot plate of her ordered meal- she's hungry, "when I was upset, you said you guys should leave; you offered to leave."

"…because I know sometimes you just need to be alone."

Her bottom lip trembles, "Thank you."

She couldn't stay mad at her –she desperately wanted to- but she couldn't. Sylvie didn't deserve it. Erin probably would have done the exact same thing if the roles were reversed.

"You honestly do not need to thank me." Sylvie gives her a kind smile, "We have to stick together…I realize that now. If no one else is going to watch our back, we have to watch each other's. Us, women, we have to be strong and stick together."

"Sometimes I am just too tired to be strong anymore and I need to be strong for me for once." She stops talking momentarily when Harris brings out their food. Even though she didn't know him, she didn't want him overhearing their personal conversation. The second he walked away, she continued, "How can I be strong for others when I have to be strong for myself? I don't think I have enough strength in me to be strong for everyone else."

Sylvie nods, "You do…you just don't realize it yet. We're strong Erin."

"I'm terrified," Erin admits; she's allowing her food to cool off.

"…that doesn't mean you're weak."

"I just wish people got the reasons for my fear because then they'll be able to understand my pain." The two young women begin to eat their meal in between the pauses in their conversation.

"So what if they don't understand?" Sylvie swallows a bite of her burger, "So what if they don't get it? Not everyone will…" She grabs her napkin and dabs the corner of her mouth, "You know, someone once asked me how I am able to hold my head up so high after what I've been through and it's because, no matter what, I'm a survivor…not a victim. You can only be a victim if you allow yourself to be. You're not a victim Erin. I won't let you be."

"I feel like a victim…" Erin's appetite is lost. The moment she sees Harris, she waves him over and requests for a box for her food. She'll give it to Jay; he'll definitely enjoy it.

"We all do at some point, but it doesn't mean we have to remain victims."

A silence falls over the two-person table after Erin nods. She quietly watches Sylvie eat –it doesn't bother either of them- Erin isn't focused and Sylvie is too distracted by her meal.

"I thought I was pregnant." She admits without a second to think about what she's saying.

Sylvie drops her French fry, "…by your husband?"

"...no."

Her meal completely forgotten the moment it registered for Sylvie who exactly she was referring to, "Oh, Erin…"

"I'm not." She informs –she was relieved the second she found out- her doctor called her over the phone the second her test results came back. Erin couldn't wait until her next appointment to find out. She's grateful he told her as soon as he did. She was going to drive herself crazy if she had to wait any longer, "Fortunately the test the doctor ran came back negative. I am not pregnant, but…when I thought I could be-"

"I understand." Sylvie says the second she realized it was hard for Erin to finish her sentence. She didn't know how she was going to finish it, and Sylvie stepped in with her own personal tale, "I was in college when I was attacked." Erin didn't know the details; and to be honest, she wasn't going to ask about it. From her own personal experience, she hated being asked about her attack, and she assumed the same of Sylvie and every other person in the support group. Sylvie grabbed another fry –eating was her coping mechanism- and with the fry in her mouth, she continued, "It was by my ex-boyfriend." Her eyes stare over Erin's shoulder; she doesn't want to go into details, and after swallowing her fry, she closed her tale, "Most sexual assaults happen by people you know."

Erin shakes her head, "…not mine; I've never heard his voice before."

"You didn't know him, but maybe he knew you."

"How did you move on? How were you able to?" Erin grabs her glass of water and takes a sip, "What did you do?"

"…forgive."

"How can I possibly do that? Why would I do that?"

"It's not for them Erin, it's for you." Sylvie explains, "They don't deserve it, but you do." She grabs her napkin to wipe her hands, "Make peace with your past Erin. Life is too short and precious to hold grudges against people who no longer exist in your present."

It was easier said than done. Sylvie's attack happened years ago; Erin's was only weeks ago. It was still the same month and the same year of her attack, but Sylvie's was far in the past. Sylvie had time to grow and transform herself from victim to survivor. Erin needed that same time.

"Jay just text me," Erin holds up her cell phone, "He's outside. How much do I-"

"It's on me," Sylvie waves her away.

"You don't have to-"

"It's on me Erin," Sylvie repeats.

Erin rose to her feet and smiled, "Thank you."

"I'll see you next week," Sylvie resumed eating her meal.

"Thanks for the pep talk."

"Anytime…anywhere, we have to look out for each other."

It was true. That's what friends are for. Erin sends Sylvie another wave before walking away; however a nagging question pops into her head forcing her to abruptly stop. She doesn't go back over to the table, but she does turn to face her friend, "Sylvie."

"Yes," the blonde turns her head to look at Erin.

"Why did you stop going to meetings?"

"…because I got my life back."

"Now you're going back to meetings, what does that mean?"

"I want to help others get theirs back too." She waves for Harris to come over; she was ready for the check, "Meetings never hurt. I can have my life and attend meetings too. It's not a one or the other situation. I always assumed being in meetings meant I wasn't okay. I am okay…and you'll be okay too."

If Erin were to be honest with herself, she was happy to be leaving and seeing her husband. She missed seeing a familiar face after being surrounded by strangers for an hour. She saw his car parked, and he was waving for her to pick up her pace. He was in a hurry.

"Hey babe," he greets the second she opens the passenger seat door.

She smiles as she slides into the car, "I absolutely love it when you call me babe."

"Buckle up. We have to go." He's serious; he doesn't have time to flirt back.

"Why?" She does as instructed. When he was waving at her, he was trying to hurry her along. With the seat belt locked and tightened, she turned in her seat to face him, "What happened?" Her face is stoic; she's imagining the worse, "Why is your face looking like that?"

"Antonio called Voight."

"…is everything okay?"

"I don't know how they know, but we're supposed to go find out."

"Know what?" Erin is staring at her husband; she's scared, "Jay, talk to me!" She feels forced to shout; she's absolutely freaking out, "Why did Antonio call my dad?"

"…because he found out who attacked you." How did Antonio of all people find out when he wasn't even investigating her case?

Erin gulps; this was the moment she has been waiting for. She had hoped for this moment; sometimes prayed for it, and now that it's here, she's nervous; she's hesitant. What was she thinking? The sirens of her husband's car were on blaring through the city. It was now or never. Erin extends her hand and sets it atop of his, "Who was it? Who hurt me?"

"Ben; Ally's boyfriend."