Phoebe shut her eyes in terror and stayed as still as she could in her bed; a bed she once found rest and comfort but now only found pain and anguish. Her senses were working overtime and her chest felt as though it was being sat on. Her throat started to constrict and if she actually had nails that she didn't already bite off from a nervous habit, there would have been long nail marks in her palms from such a tight fist. Little specks of light dotted the insides of her eyes because they were so tightly shut. Her jaw hurt from clenching it so hard. Her head hurt. Her legs hurt. Hell, everything hurt. Phoebe hurt both physically and mentally. Slowly, Phoebe made herself relax a bit, but of course not completely. She could never relax completely. Never. Phoebe was already mad at herself for sleeping; she hadn't let herself truly sleep for the last month because, if she did indeed let herself sleep, nightmares such as the one she just experienced would plague her mind, body, and spirit. Phoebe feared that another nightmare would kill her instantly, just as the incident was killing her slowly... painfully...

The Incident...

Everybody told her not to call it that anymore; that she should call it 'rape' because that's what it really was... but how could she call it rape if she wasn't really sure that's what it was?!

'I could have stopped it, maybe even prevented it, if I had wanted to,' she cringed at the new wave of guilt to wash over her. Guilt, in the last few months or so, had been prevalent in every waking hour... sure she could forget about it now and then, but it was always there in the back of her mind, just like...

The nightmares...

God, the nightmares. How could she forget? They all started out the same; just Phoebe and her attacker staring into each other's eyes coldly. His eyes seemed to burn into hers and just when Phoebe finally gets the courage to look away, he always knocks her down with a right hook to the left temple. That's where the dreams alter. Sometimes it is a very detailed and real reenactment of the actual incident, complete with Phoebe waking up with that unique smell still lingering in her nose. Other times it is a totally new experience, equally horrifying but usually in a different location or different way. No matter how different each dream was, however, each left Phoebe with an intolerable amount of fear, pain, and agony.

That fear, pain, and agony were still entrapped around Phoebe's heart as she struggled to relax her muscles. She snuck a glance at Cole who was still sleeping next to her, unaware of his girlfriend's anxiety attack. Phoebe had to hold back a tension filled, bitter laugh; everyone knew she had been having these nightmares but no one, and she meant no one, knew just how bad they were. If they had any clue at all, they'd put Phoebe out of her misery themselves rather than let Phoebe dwell over her own suicide as she had been since the nightmares had started.

As carefully as she could, Phoebe positioned herself so she could easily get out of her hell people called a bed. She didn't want to wake Cole, however; he would ask her what was wrong and she had a feeling that if she told him everything, he would just feel disgusted with her and she didn't want that- she needed what little support he could offer. As she shifted her body to sit up, Cole's arm sneaked across her chest in a protective hold. Phoebe's eyes bulged with fear. All that went through her mind was her dream was reality and her attacker, not Cole, was in the bed with her. The tightness returned with full force in her throat and her chest, especially where his arm lay, seemed it was being compressed. Phoebe couldn't breath. She could hardly take it any longer. It couldn't happen; she couldn't let it happen. Finally, a tiny drop of courage sped through her veins, causing Phoebe to break from her frozen state to crouch in the fetal position and scream for, basically her only hope, her sisters.

"Help me!" she cried, her fear returning tenfold. Still, she fought on. "Prue! Piper! Help!" she screamed again. After trying a third time, Phoebe could not find her voice, thus making her totally susceptible to her attacker.

"Phoebe," he whispered harshly in her ear, causing her to tense up even more. He gripped her tighter and shook her slightly, only adding to the fear. In fact, the fear quickly turned to dread. Her sisters weren't coming. She was alone. It was going to happen again. She could have stopped it.

"Phoebe, stop it!" he whispered again harshly in her ear. Oh God, he could read her thoughts. Phoebe was beyond freaking out. She let her body go limp; why fight the inevitable? Why put herself through the mental anguish of thinking she could be saved or that everything would be ok? It can't be ok again... why fight... he has won...

"What the hell is going on?!" said a voice that was accompanied by the light being turned on. For a second, Phoebe thought the voice belonged to Prue, but quickly snuffed the thought. It couldn't be.

"Phoebe?!" Wait, that sounded as though it was Piper... No, it couldn't be Piper...

"I don't know!" her attacked exclaimed, though his voice seemed to morph into Cole's. Nevertheless, Phoebe kept her eyes closed tight. "I just put my arm around her and she started freaking out. She must be having an other nightmare." He turned back to Phoebe and, with his hand, brushed some hair out of her face gently. "Phoebe, honey, it's me, sweetheart. I'm here. Prue's here. Piper's here. No one else but us," he soothed.

Phoebe slowly and hesitantly opened her eyes. As soon as she saw the three instead of her attacker, Phoebe let all of her fear leave in her tears. Her body, racked with sobs, was engulfed in hugs from her family.

* * *

Phoebe popped another caffeine pill, washed it down with her double espresso from 'Starbucks', and stared at the computer screen. She hadn't let herself even get into a bed since that last nightmares two days ago and no one in the manor seemed to notice or, better said, if they had noticed, they didn't care; no one cared, not even Phoebe.

With an other click of her mouse, Phoebe was logged into her favorite message board. Lately Phoebe felt more content with the faceless screen names than with her own family. While she was there, Phoebe could almost forget about her problems and fears for a few moments- and those few measly moments were almost sacred to Phoebe. A smile played on her lips as she typed a reply to a funny, absurd post. Suddenly the smile and typing stopped as a hand grasped Phoebe's shoulder and was replaced with intense fear.

"Hey Pheebs," Piper said, glancing down worriedly at her younger sister. Though she didn't let Phoebe know, Piper was worried to death over her- she just couldn't bring it upon herself to bring up the subject.

"Oh, hey Piper," Phoebe replied after her heart returned from it's sudden trip to her toes. "What are you doing up?"

Piper did a double take at Phoebe's question. "Phoebe, it's eight o'clock in the morning!" PIper responded, the concern prevalent in her voice. 'Busted,' Phoebe thought. Her sense of time had been messed up since she stopped sleeping. "How long have you been up?" Piper asked, though didn't know if she wanted the answer.

"Oh, since about six o'clock," Phoebe lied and Piper let it go with a sigh; they both knew she was lying and had been up all night, but not did not want to confront the problem, aka Phoebe.

Piper opened the refrigerator and peered inside. "Do you want some breakfast? I'll make you something."

Phoebe put her hand to her stomach. Should she eat? Every time she had eaten in the past few days, she usually got sick to her stomach... but she also felt terrible and weak due to the lack of sleep and food and thought that maybe some food could give her somewhat of a boost. "Yeah, I guess, but make something small, ok? Thanks."

Piper sighed again. She had this strong, almost overwhelming, urge to make a huge, gormet breakfast and force her sister to eat all of it just to spite her but, of course, that in some way would bring up the problem which they all tried so hard to ignore. 'Why?' Piper asked herself and was instantly surprised when she realized that was the first time she had ever asked herself that question. Piper was in complete and utter shock; she had always knew that everyone in the manor ignored the problem and did their best to avoid any reference to it, but never really thought why. This fact bothered her- it bothered her a lot. Was it because they thought that somehow, by ignoring the problem, they were keeping Phoebe from reliving it? She was reliving it every night in her dreams! And what about-

"What are you going to make?" Phoebe asked, interrupting Piper's train of thought, though Piper had heard enough of the conversation in her head to know she had to confront Phoebe.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Piper asked after a deep breath. She knew she had to be there for her sister and this was the only way she could think of to start.

Phoebe froze in terror again. She knew what her sister was trying to do, but she also knew she didn't want to burden Piper with her problems; she was going through enough for all of them. Thinking quickly, Phoebe tried to deflect the question. "Talk about what? Breakfast? I'll eat whatever you make." Phoebe held her breath in anticipation of whether or not her sister would buy and accept her obvious diversion.

Piper sighed yet again. She knew what Phoebe was trying to do and made a mental decision to press on. She had to help Phoebe. "Come on, Phoebe, you know what I meant."

Phoebe also made a decision- continue to act dumb. "No, what?!"

"Never mind," Piper sighed. She didn't want to push Phoebe if she didn't want tot talk about it. 'Damnit!' thought Piper. That was exactly what Phoebe wanted her to do. She walked over to Phoebe who was shutting down her lap top and put her hands on her hips. Phoebe turned and her heart sped up a bit.

"What?" she questioned the seemingly pissed off witch. Maybe continuing the 'dumb' act would ward her off...

"Phoebe, you know what I mean," Piper said, pulling out a chair and sitting close to her sister. "You need to talk about what happened and what is happening and what will happen if you don't!"

Phoebe felt herself grow abnormally and unnecessarily mad Wasn't this what she had wanted? To have someone actually confront the problem and talk to her? They why was she so angry? "Piper, don't. It's my problem, not yours. Just leave it be." Why did she say that?

"Well, you're making it my problem now!"

"And that is the problem! It shouldn't be burdening you!" Phoebe could feel tears stinging her eyes, so she shoved back her chair and stormed out of the room. Her sudden departure left Piper in the room, frozen in a temporary shock, but soon she snapped out of it and followed suit. "This conversation isn't over, Phoebe!"

"Yes it is!" Phoebe spat back bitterly.

"No, Phoebe, it's not. It's pretty obvious that you are messed up over this and-"

"Oh, so not only do I have a problem, but I am messed up as well? Oh, gee, thanks Piper. You really helped. I am so glad we had this conversation," Phoebe screamed at Piper, but instantly asked herself why she was being so defensive.

"Stop twisting my words around, Phoebe," Piper growled back. The argument progressed into an all out screaming war for a good ten minutes until Phoebe broke down suddenly in tears.

"Stop it! Just stop it, damnit," she sobbed. Caught off guard, Piper forgot her anger and just listened. "I can't do this any more; I can't do anything anymore!" Phoebe then preceded to tell Piper everything she could, including facts about the actual incident that she didn't even tell the police. She finished with a sob on Piper's shoulder. Piper instinctively wrapped her sister in a comforting hug and found herself crying along with Phoebe.

Prue walked into the room and had to do a double take. She hadn't seen Phoebe show this much emotion since the trials. "What's going on?" she asked, tentitively sitting down on he couch next to her sisters. Piper opened her mouth to explain the massive amounts of mascara running down her and her sister's faces, but Phoebe turned to Prue first, oddly calm.

"Oh, nothing, just having a good cry," she explained, trying to make light of it. She couldn't let Prue know what she had just told Piper- it was too much and she knew Prue would step right into mothering mode. Phoebe avoided a glare from Piper, suddenly dreading the next few moments; Piper was going to talk, she knew it.

"Yeah, that's far from it," Piper said in a cracked voice.

"Then what is it?" Prue asked, but she had an idea of what it would be; she just couldn't believe one of her sisters actually brought the subject up.

"Oh, stop being blond when you so clearly aren't," Phoebe snapped, suddenly bitter again. What was wrong with her? "You know damn well what we were crying about, but don't worry- it's over." Phoebe jumped up from the couch and started to walk out of the room, but turned around slowly as she heard Piper's angry voice.

"Like hell it's over, Phoebe. It's just the beginning and you're gonna need us to help you though it."

"Don't you think I know it's just the beginning? That's why it's so damn hard; it's not even close to being over. It's just going to get harder before it gets better and I think, no I know I won't be able to take it. Why bother?!" This time Phoebe successfully left the room, which left her sisters behind to dwell on her words and some of their own.

* * *

Phoebe peered into the empty bottle of Jack Daniels and could see dimly the distorted images of her room through the curved, dry bottom. The distortion may have been partly accredited to the said curved bottom of the bottom, but it was mostly due to the fact Phoebe was dunk off her ass and high on her pain medication. When she tried to get up from her bed, Phoebe tripped on nothing in particular and fell flat on her face. She laid there in pain and shame. So this was what her life had boiled down to...

She had let him win and that was that. Phoebe could feel herself spinning, no diving out of control, but couldn't do a damn thing to stop it. She knew she needed help, but she also know she didn't want it. Phoebe sighed, hiccuped, and struggled to get up. 'Want' and 'Need' were two totally different things. Phoebe 'needed' to get help before it was too late. She shuddered. Was it too late already? She couldn't be so sure...

* * *

Cole shimmered tentatively to Phoebe's room and glanced around; he didn't want to scare Phoebe more than he had already in the past few months. He glanced around a bit, finally concluding Phoebe was not in the room. He walked around the bed, however, and was taken aback; there, lying on the floor, was Phoebe with a bottle of JD still in her hands, passed out. He shook her a bit and though she stirred a bit, Phoebe didn't wake up. Cole organized his thoughts and decided he had to pick her up. He did so, an carried her to the bathroom, laying her back down on the cold tile floor on her side. Then, Cole sat on the toilet next to hr and sadly stared at her face.

Why was she doing this to herself?

His thoughts were interrupted when the door to the bathroom door opened and Prue started to walk in.

"Oh, sorry-" she stopped, noticing Phoebe on the floor and the sad look in Cole's eyes. "What the hell happened?" she asked as she crouched down next to her sister.

"She drank herself into an oblivion," Cole shrugged. "She passed out."

Prue looked up at Cole in shock and shook her head. Why was she doing this to herself? To them? "Leo!" she called as she positioned Phoebe on her back.

"What the hell are you doing?" It was Cole's time to ask. Prue looked at him as if the answer was obvious.

After she realized Cole didn't understand her logistics, she explained. "I'm calling Leo so he can heal her. Then we can talk to her about this once and for all," she said, glancing up as Leo entered the already cramped bathroom with Piper close behind.

"No!" Cole said with a certainty that shocked everyone, including himself. "I think she needs to feel the full consequences of her actions without supernatural help. You drink yourself sick, you deserve to be sick. End of story."

"I agree," Prue changed her mind, though still too worried to be surprised that she had actually agreed with Cole. They both returned Phoebe to her side, just in case. Cole agreed to stay and make sure Phoebe's condition didn't worsen.

As Prue followed Leo and Piper out, Piper voiced her confusion. "What the hell happened?"

Prue sighed. "She drank until she passed out," she stated with a mix of anger and sadness. Suddenly, the anger overruled and she stormed down the hall towards Phoebe's room with Piper and Leo close behind. When inside, Prue took out her rage on Phoebe's dwindling collection of pain medication, caffeine pills, alcohol, and other various materials hidden throughout Phoebe's room. Piper and Leo joined in and they all searched in silence until suddenly, Piper stopped cold. She held a photograph as far as she could from her body, though couldn't take her eyes off it. She didn't want to believe what it was or what it meant.

"What's that, Piper," asked Prue, curious. Piper only could respond my holding out the photo for Leo and Prue to inspect. It was a picture of him... Phoebe's attacker.

"What the hell does she have this for?" Piper screamed her fear. Prue shut her eyes and shook her head, fighting off tears.

"I don't know and I don't want to. Get rid of it," she said and held out the plastic bag that held all of the contraband items they had collected from Phoebe's room.

Finally, they were content that there were no more other dangerous contraband and walked out of the room in silence and filed toward the bathroom. They came upon Phoebe, throwing up in the toilet with Cole holding back her hair. Prue noticed the incredible sadness and fear in her eyes and she had to admit it scared her. She turned and ran all the way to her dark room, the scene still visible in her mind.

* * *

As Phoebe opened her eyes, she saw Prue, Piper, Cole, and Leo looming over her. Her head felt as though it was splitting in two and the like was like needles going through her eyes. It was probably the worst hangover she had ever had.

"Phoebe, we need to talk," boomed a voice that echoed in her head painfully. She couldn't really distinguish who exactly said it, but still groaned a reply, hoping they would all just leave her alone. "Phoebe!" came the voice again, louder than ever. Phoebe shut her eyes tighter in pain and tried to turn over, though it hurt too much to move. The voice (it started to sound like Prue's now) was persistent still. "Phoebe, I am just going to get louder and louder until you answer me and agree to talk."

Phoebe shut her eyes even tighter. Couldn't they see she was in no condition to 'talk'? The best she could probably give would be a few groans and mumbles. Why were they pestering her? Slowly, she opened her eyes again. "I'll talk later," she somehow managed to mumble and shut her eyes again. Her own voice slammed throughout her head.

"No, we need to talk now," Cole said, picking Phoebe up to a sitting position. Phoebe almost cried in pain. "I know you're hung over pretty damn bad because I was with you all night an saw first hand how smashed you were, but we are not going to let you live this one down. You did this to yourself, Phoebe, and we want to know why."

All Phoebe wanted to do was lay back down, curl up into a ball, and hopefully sleep out this headache, though somewhere in her disoriented mind, she knew her family wouldn't let her. Suddenly, she felt a warm sensation come over her and her headache somewhat subside. She slowly opened her eyes just in time to see Leo raise his hands; he had healed her just enough so she could be somewhat coherent. 'I guess I can't get out of this one,' she thought and slowly opened her eyes, sat up, and faced her family.

"Phoebe, can't you see what you are doing to yourself?" Prue growled out of both anger and fear.

Piper shook her head. "Phoebe, you can't do that to yourself; you're letting him win."

"He's already won!" Phoebe groaned. She laid back down, defeated. Like she had said, she didn't want to even think about it, yet that's exactly what they were making her do. Phoebe felt herself almost wishing Leo would 'unheal' her so she could focus on the physical pain rather than the mental anguish. The realization of the thought hit her hard; she was spinning out of control and Phoebe didn't know if she could stop herself.

* * *

Prue, Piper, Cole, and Leo were all sitting in the conservatory; they had given up trying to talk to Phoebe when he was in that state and decided to let her sleep the remaining hangover off before their next attempt.

"Do you think we did the right thing?" Piper asked into the deafening silence.

"Who knows," Prue sighed. She had never felt so hopeless in her life.

suddenly, from upstairs, there was a large clatter. The four glanced up towards the ceiling as if they could see through the plaster to identify the noise.

"What the hell?! Where's my damn codeine?!" Phoebe screamed down the steps in a cracked, groggy voice.

"It's gone. Go back to sleep," replied Cole bitterly, staring at his shoes as if they were works or art.

"But I need them, damnit!" replied Phoebe, even louder this time.

"No, you don't! Go back to sleep," Cole called up again, trying to be as calm as he could, though his insides were being torn apart. This was not the Phoebe he loved, the Phoebe he gave up half of himself to be with... He had to remind himself that the Phoebe he loved was somewhere inside that body, trapped and just as scared as he was. That was the only thought that kept him sane. Little did he know, Prue, Piper, and Leo were thinking the same thing...

* * *

Phoebe's head jerked up sharply and she looked wildly around; she had fallen asleep in her Psyche class and had had a nightmare (or daymare... whatever). As she looked around, her heart pounding in her ears, Phoebe noticed everyone in the room was staring at her with stupid smirks on their faces.

"Are you ok, Miss Halliwell?" her professor asked snidely. "I'm sorry I woke you. Care to share with the class your seemingly disturbing dream so we can, perhaps, decipher it?"

Phoebe stared her teacher down as her emotions turned from fear to anger and fury. She stood up, suddenly, and just walked out. She didn't need him- she didn't need anything.

She jumped into the car and rubbed the tears angrily out of her eyes. She was in hell. Phoebe hadn't spoken to her sisters, Cole, or Leo since she had that terrible hangover, and she realized she didn't care. She had made herself feel so empty inside so it wouldn't hurt anymore. Phoebe started the car-- actually, it was Prue's (she had grabbed the keys this morning without asking... again, she didn't care) and pulled out into the highway. As she drove, she could slowly feel herself fall asleep. Getting a bit nervous, Phoebe opened the window and turned on the radio. Still, it did not help much. Phoebe could feel her chin touch her chest, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not lift it. An image of her attacker flashed in her mind, finally jerking her awake...

It was too late...

Phoebe Halliwell crashed head on with a tractor trailer. Her last thought before the collision was not of her family, but of the man who had ruined her life.

* * *

Prue stepped up to the podium, feeling numb. She could not bring herself to look at the big, glossy box that held what was left of her baby sister. Instead, she faced the sea of mourners present at the funeral of Phoebe Halliwell.

Prue took one more deep breath and, while she fiddled with her necklace, read from her notes.

"Let me begin by saying a car crash did not kill my sister, but a man did. Instead of dying instantly from internal bleeding and brain stem damage as the death certificate states, my sister died a slow, agonizing death at the hands of one man who, a few months ago, took the very essence of Phoebe away from us." Prue had to stop for a moment to refrain from breaking down, though she knew she had to press on and finish the speech for Phoebe's sake. "My sister was the victim of a horrible crime; not he obvious crime of rape, but the crime of murder for, you see, her rapist did kill her and that is the cause of my baby sister laying in that box." Her voice cracked and tears stained her notes. Prue knew there was no way she could get through her written speech, but she had to finish with something... "Phoebe was right when she said it would never be the same again..." Prue's voice broke yet again and a sob pierced the still air. She quickly composed herself, however, determined to finish at all cost. Prue looked slowly over to Piper, then, with an odd calmness, stared at the casket as though she was only talking to her baby sister. "Piper and I and anyone who knew Phoebe will never be the same again, but for our sake and in honor of Phoebe, we can't let the change kill us. You don't have to have premonitions to know it's going to be hard and that we are going to miss her more than we can even fathom right now, but we can remember how 'charmed' we were to know Phoebe and how blessed we were to have shared a small part of ourselves with her. Phoebe, we love you and always will and I hope, in heaven, you will win your battle." With that, Prue walked back to her seat and collapsed in a fit of tears.

The End.