Hello everyone! First of all, I would like to apologize for my absence, writers block has been getting to me. Trying to get back in to regular posts again. I also apologize for the short chapter, the next one should be longer.

Thank you everyone. ^^

Several days passed, and all the while Abby was forced to watch her own decline. The doctors said that her back had been burned almost completely to the bone, that it would take several weeks before she was well enough to leave. There would always be scars left, her nerves fried in that area so she would never quite feel the same there as before. She was lucky there wasn't any damage to her spine. She was lucky it wasn't infected. She was lucky to have survived it.

Lucky to have gotten away from Jeff.

So, so lucky.

They didn't understand. None of them knew or cared that her mind was slowly falling apart around her. Her emotions were flaring up almost constantly, her thoughts turning darker and darker no matter how she tried to keep them in line. It was bad enough that she'd resigned herself to forced silence. She would just lay there, letting them do whatever they wanted, holding everything inside her so she wouldn't lash out at them. It wasn't a good plan, but she couldn't think of what else to do, and it was just so hard to concentrate now...

"Abby?"

She blinked, recognizing the voice and mentally recoiling. Julia. Her only reaction was to glance toward the door, meeting her eyes for only a moment before returning her gaze to the ceiling. The children were absent, likely at school. It was probably a school day, there were only two days off in the week. If not, they'd have to be with their parents, which she highly doubted.

"I'm, ah, sorry about what happened to your parents." a crack in her voice, her mother had been best friends, her death must have hurt. Funny, saying something like that to a person whom couldn't feel. At least, as far as she knew. Julia came into view, approaching to hover over the bed. Abby kept her eyes staring straight, fingers clenching the sheets tightly. "I've seen you all over the news, I was starting to think you'd turn up dead...I'm glad you're okay."

Normally she would have smiled, would have reassured her that she was indeed fine, hidden her non existent feelings behind a seemingly light hearted mask. But she couldn't, she couldn't pretend to feel something when she could barely contain her other emotions. It was obvious in the way the other spoke, the way she constantly fidgeted, that her silence was making her uncomfortable.

"I'm not." Abby's own voice was small, buried under the simple beep of the monitor. Julia didn't hear.

"What?"

"I'm not okay. I..." she trailed off, her throat tightening almost painfully. She was experiencing despair. Moments before it had been happiness. Logic strained to make itself known under the twisting chaos now plaguing her. The world blurred and she closed her eyes, an attempt to cut off the flow before it happened, only causing the first tears to drip down into her hair. "I don't wish to be here any more."

"W-what did he do to you?" Julia was whispering now, fingers moving to wipe away the liquid from her face, suddenly too warm. She shivered, pulling back a sob, forcing herself to take deep, even breaths. She'd never cried before, not unless her eyes dried out. Now the tears came and went, mingling with the laughter, the screams, coming and going at random just as everything else.

"They say I might be suffering from post traumatic stress disorder." she finally answered, opening her eyes again, finally feeling calm enough to look at the woman. Shifting, she sat up, flinching at the flare in her back. Now facing Julia fully, she continued, "They've told me that they intend to release me to you once I've recovered. Have you accepted, or shall I make other plans?"

Julia visibly relaxed. This was the Abigail she was used to, the girl that couldn't feel but pretended to. She accepted the explanation despite the fact that it didn't make much sense. Yes, the doctors had voiced concern that she was suffering PTSD, and her fluxuating emotions seemed to support this. However they did not appear to know of her previous disorder, didn't know that she normally didn't feel anything. She'd made no effort to correct them, as it was simply easier for them to think she was suffering from whatever horrors Jeff supposedly did to her. At times, she was struck with heated anger when she thought about recounting the events that had passed, forcing her to make the man out to be a heartless killer. Which, logically, that is exactly what he was in many ways, but that wasn't the point.

The point was that Jeff hadn't forced her into anything she didn't willingly accept, and he did not burn her. But of course, no one would believe that the man she'd dubbed Diablo had appeared in her dreams and done it because someone else asked him to. Which they did(probably Jane), despite his efforts to make it seem a show of power. Even if she'd taken that deal of his, she was sure she'd have been burned anyway.

"Of course I have," the older woman smiled, strained, "I'm not going to let you be kicked out on the streets. After everything that happened? I've been working on getting the guest room cleaned up for you."

"Thank you," Abby pulled her lips back, baring her teeth. Sharp cold stabbed into her chest, and she looked away, head lowered, eyes at the foot of the bed. She clenched her fingers, fighting it away, a shaky breath escaping.

"D-do you need anything?" Julia asked, voice rising a couple octaves.

"Water. Please." came the breathy reply.

She nodded, leaving the room fairly quickly. Abby sat there, eyes closed. She could fight this. Diablo was wrong. She could fight this.

She could...