(A/N): Really quick, before you start reading! There are points were Spanish is spoken, which will be indicated using this set up: "[Example]"

This will carry over into future chapters.

WARING!: This chapter contains implied/referenced past rape/non-con, brief descriptions of said event, in addition to post-traumatic-stress disorder. Viewer discretion is advised.

He was in that clearing again. In that woods again.

"So, how're things with Beth?"

That voice. He knew that voice, and despite how much he wanted to run, how much his body desperately wished to escape, he remained sitting on the tree stump, focusing on the fire in front of him and the marshmallow he was roasting over it.

He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, but it wasn't him. It wasn't his decision. It was as if his body was on autopilot, going through the motions of that night all over again, "It's going, I guess…" he shifted to look over at the man seated a few feet from him.

Brown hair with small hints of gray, paired with green eyes, so sharp and cool, you could drown in them if you stared too long; the faintest five o'clock shadow. He had a knowing grin plastered on his face with a raised eyebrow.

It all made him feel sick.

"Still fighting about where to live?"

He wanted to wake up so much, because, god, this all had to be a dream. Just a bad dream, an awful dream—he couldn't just be back here again.

No, not again, not again.

"Yeah," Jerry nodded, pulling his marshmallow away from the fire and fishing two graham crackers from their box to place the marshmallow between, "It's just, I feel like it would be too sudden to drop everything and leave right away," he explained, "My parents don't mind if we live with them for as long as we need, and they're both thrilled to be grandparents."

A chuckle, deep, almost charming, "She's probably just worried about what her dad might think."

Wake up, please. Please. I can't—

Jerry went quiet for a moment, watching the flames lick at the air, "She, uh…" his voice grew hushed, hesitant. It wasn't his place to go and blab about Beth's family issues, but it also felt wrong to make up an excuse when her situation was so fragile, "He's not in the picture anymore," he settled on.

Of course, there was more to it than that, although she never went into detail about any of it with him. That was fine, though. She would tell him when she was ready, and even if that day never came, he wouldn't mind.

The man nodded his head solemnly, giving a small hum in reply, "Sorry for prying."

"It's fine," Jerry reassured, smiling, "You didn't know."

There was the faintest sound of buzzing, yet Jerry couldn't seem to acknowledge it, and neither did the man.

"You know, Jerry, it really is nice of you to do all this for her," he spoke with so much sincerity that Jerry had missed the manipulation behind his voice the first time; missed the slight tilt to his words that usually meant he was hiding something, and the subtle shift of his eyes that said he wasn't focusing on Jerry, but on their surroundings, "I mean, you're giving up everything to help raise her kid."

"Summer's my kid too," Jerry replied, a glint of happiness in his eyes, because as much as it pained him to give up his dreams, he still had a daughter that made his life even more amazing than it had ever been before, "I'd feel awful just abandoning them when they need me. Especially with Beth's situation."

"Man, you really are a good kid, Jer," he was smiling, a stupid smile, an awful smile. A fake smile.

How had it taken Jerry so long to notice?

"Hey, I'm not a kid anymore!" Jerry grinned proudly, gesturing to himself with his thumb, "You're looking at a certified adult as of today!"

He had said it because he was proud. He said it because he was finally old enough to be treated like an adult, instead of constantly being dismissed as "too young to understand." He said it because he felt so confident in himself.

"Oh, of course," the man nodded, mocking an embarrassed tone, "How could I have been so foolish as to forget!" he placed a hand on Jerry's shoulder, giving him a light shake, "Such a refined young man you are now that you can buy your own car!"

Jerry laughed, not at all bothered by the gesture. He was, though. He was, and he wanted to run so desperately, because he could feel the dread of what was going to happen next bloom into his lungs as sharp thorns tore at his organs, breaking through his skin and rooting his feet deep into the ground, flowers blooming in his throat.

You can't escape, it reminded him, You will never escape.

The buzzing was getting louder, the voices were becoming muddled, vision blurred.

"To think, you used to be so young and naive…"

Not again. Not again, please. He wanted to cry, to scream, anything to make it all stop, but petals were clogging his throat.

Everything was so hazy, yet still so, so vivid.

The hand on his knee, the alcohol on his breath, because he had been drinking, they had both been drinking. The fabric of his shirt under the palm of Jerry's hands, paired with the force of trying to get him off, get him away!

Stubble scraped against his skin, a quiet voice whispering in his ear, "Relax, we're just having fun."

But it wasn't fun, nothing about it was fun and Jerry couldn't stop crying as he desperately pleaded for him to stop, please stop it, stop it—

Jerry sat up in his bed, gasping for air and moving to wipe the sweat dripping down his brow, blinking back tears as his other hand gripped at the fabric of his shirt to help ground himself. His heart was thudding in his chest, and his covers laid pooled on the floor.

He was fine. He was fine.

He swallowed thickly, still trying to catch his breath as he instinctively moved a hand to Beth's side of the bed, just to be sure, to be safe, because he couldn't trust himself, couldn't ignore the lingering feeling of hands on his body or the voice in his ear.

There was nothing, though. Just a windowsill.

No, that wasn't right. She was supposed to be beside him, she was always beside him—

Buzzing. Something was buzzing on the nightstand.

Jerry's breathing slowed as he glanced down at his phone, the reminder of yesterday slowly crawling back to him.

He was at his parent's house, alone in his old bedroom. Not in the woods, not with that man.

"It's fine…" he quietly spoke to the air around him, "I'm… fine…"

Slowly, with trembling hands, he picked up his phone. He winced and squinted sharply at the sudden burst of light, moving to turn it down.

Two text messages from Morty, three missed calls from Beth… three voicemails from Beth.

Jerry opened the messages from his son, reading them over, still trying to ignore the ghost of a hand on his thigh.

Morty, 9:30PM

Hey, dad. Mom's drunk again, so she might try to call you.

Morty, 10:50PM

I got her to sleep. Sorry if she woke you up.

Jerry sighed, typing up a reply to his son. He'd call Beth later in the day.

Jerry, 1:20AM

Thanks for keeping me updated. Hope everyone is doing okay. I'll call Beth in the afternoon.

He stalled for a moment, hesitant, thumbs hovering over the keys as he watched the cursor blink in and out of existence. Carefully, he typed out a second message and hit send.

Jerry, 1:25AM

Love you

He stared at the words for several seconds before locking his phone and tossing it on his bed, pulling his legs closer to his chest, trying to make himself smaller as he stared into the darkness of his room. He wasn't going to lay back down, wasn't going back to sleep.

Not after that nightmare.

That memory.

If he was still at home, he could have gone downstairs to his office, could have distracted himself with funny internet videos. But he wasn't at home. So, all he could do was sit in his bed and try to pretend his insides weren't slowly being engulfed by thorns.

—

He wasn't sure how much time had passed since he'd woken up. Maybe an hour, maybe four. Either way, the sky had slowly shifted to purple, stars disappearing as the sun began to peek over the horizon.

Jerry hadn't bothered to move from his spot, to unwind himself, even if his body started to ache from staying in that position for far too long. Feeling smaller, actually knowing where his limbs were, made it easier to remember that he wasn't in that woods.

Footsteps shuffled passed his door, paired with a quiet hum that he picked out as Jacob. He was probably going to make breakfast…

Jerry wondered if he could help, should help, if only to distract himself. Then again, maybe Jacob would be annoyed if he asked.

He'd probably just make things worse, accidentally burn the pancakes or break a glass. Then, Jacob would be frustrated, would complain to Joyce and Leonard about how useless their pathetic son was, how he couldn't even set the table without dropping the food.

"God, what is wrong with you? Can't you do anything right?"

That's what they'd say. That's what Beth always said.

No, Jerry eventually decided as he heard Jacob descend down the stairs. It was better to stay in his room, at least until his parents woke up. That way he wouldn't risk upsetting anyone. So, he remained seated on his bed, adjusting his hold on his legs for a moment, hugging himself tighter.

The passage of time dragged on as he waited.

—

His mother's hands were warm against his cold skin.

"Honey, you look like a ghost!" she exclaimed as she cupped his face in her hands, thumbs brushing just under the dark bags beneath his eyes, "Did you not sleep well?" Joyce's voice was so full of concern, and the slightest hint of guilt was in her eyes, "Are you sick?"

Jerry couldn't help steal a brief glance at Leonard, who was seated at the dining room table looking over a newspaper, a worried crease on his brow that indicated he had been glancing at him just a moment ago.

It was a common thing. Joyce would show her concern outright, doting on Jerry whenever she noticed he had gotten hurt or sick, while Leonard simply watched, silently saying that he was there too, if Jerry needed him.

"Mom, I'm fine," Jerry quietly reassured, offering a smile that didn't reach his eyes, "It's just…" he gave a small shrug, "It's been a while since I've slept on my own, so I had a hard time going to bed."

Joyce was still holding his face, her eyes briefly searching for any sign of fever or discomfort, "... you're sure?" she finally asked after a short pause, "Nothing else is wrong?"

It was like she could almost sense something was off, that he wasn't fully telling the truth. Jerry couldn't help being reminded of the day after... that. She had the same look on her face when she asked how the trip was, and just like that day, he would smile at her, big and bright.

"That's all it was," he gingerly took hold of his mom's hands, lowering them from his face and giving them a reassuring squeeze, "I promise."

Joyce sighed, returning his smile, "Okay," she nodded. It was a half baked reassurance on Jerry's part, yet it still held so much weight to her.

She trusted him. She always trusted him.

Sometimes, despite himself, Jerry wished she didn't. Maybe if she had pushed more, done more to try and convince him that he could tell her what happened that night, that she would believe him, even if no one else would, he might not feel sick to his stomach.

"Food's ready!" Jacob announced as he entered the dining room, only to pause in the door frame as soon as Jerry came into view. His smile had fallen into a concerned frown as his eyes shifted between the family, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Jerry replied, "Everything's fine."

Jacob seemed like he wanted to pry more, but decided against it.

Breakfast was eaten in an almost uneasy silence. Jerry forced himself to eat his entire plate, if only to make his parents worry a little less.

It was hard not to throw up.

—

Jerry anxiously paced in the empty waiting room, glancing occasionally at the clock on the wall as he gnawed on his thumb nail. He had told Beth he was going to get groceries, and he was.

He did.

He just… he took a detour, that's all. Just a simple left turn a few miles before heading home.

Not like he was doing anything wrong. Just visiting Dr. Wong for a… a few minutes. Maybe… maybe longer…

He just—he needed to meet with her alone.

To talk with—with someone about—

"Just leave," Jerry quietly told himself, finally pausing his walk to stare at the door he'd just come through several moments ago.

Just. Leave.

The door was only a few steps away; he could get back in his car and drive home with a clear conscience. He wouldn't have to lie to Beth about why he was later than usual. He could just…

He could… go. Pretend like everything was fine, because he's done it for so long, and why was it starting to boil over now–?

"Mr. Smith?"

Jerry bit back a wince, slowly turning to face the therapist, "Y… yes?"

She was smiling faintly, gesturing for him to enter, "Would you like to come in?"

His mouth felt dry, face turning to look back at his escape route. He should say no, leave. He should leave. Yet something deep within, buried under all of his constant protests, urged him, begged him to step forward, because if he didn't now, he never would again.

So, he hesitantly turned to face her, "This… is all confidential, right? You won't… tell Beth about my visit?"

She only nodded reassuringly, but it was enough to ease his discomfort just a little and he carefully made his way into her office.

Jerry watched as the number of buildings outside slowly dwindled, being replaced with trees, occasionally picking up fragments of a conversation that Jacob and Leonard were having while the radio faintly blended into the background.

"You know, it's weird how quiet you are," Leonard was smiling as he turned in his seat to look back at his son, "But I guess it's not a big surprise, since you're not little anymore."

"Ah…" Jerry hesitantly turned to look over at his father, offering a half hearted smile, some part of him worried that the unease he was feeling would seep into his eyes, "I am excited," he reassured, "It's been a long time since I had someone to go fishing with."

"You don't take Summer or Morty?" Jacob asked, briefly glancing at Jerry through the rearview mirror.

"Not really…" he rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his gaze towards the tackle box tucked on the floor beside his feet, "They're not interested in that sort of thing."

"With a super genius that can take them anywhere in the universe at the drop of a hat, it's no surprise they'd hate fishing," Leonard had a sort of distaste in his voice, as if the mere thought of Rick annoyed him, "Just hope those kids are safe, wherever they end up going."

Jerry only hummed in agreement, sitting back in his seat and focusing his attention back out the window.

The drive shouldn't be much longer, if he remembered right. Just another few miles before they reached the woods.

His stomach twisted with unease.

—

Lenored took a deep breath as he stepped out of the car, sighing contently as he stretched out his arms, "I love the smell of pine in the morning."

"['The morning,']," Jerry couldn't help but mutter sarcastically, glancing down at his watch, 12:00PM.

"[You speak Spanish?]" Jacob couldn't help the surprised look that crossed his face as he turned to hand Jerry a fishing pole.

"Ah—not—I mean…" he gave a vague gesture with his hand, not meeting Jacob's eyes as he gingerly took the pole, "Sort of? I'm not all that fluent…"

He couldn't help feeling embarrassed that Jacob understood him, but he probably shouldn't be surprised either, since this was Jacob, and Jacob could do just about anything better than he ever could.

"Oh, don't be like that," Leonard gave his son a reassuring pat on the shoulder, "You've probably got a better grasp on the language than even Jacob!"

Jerry grimaced, still focused on the dirt under his shoes.

"You think so?" Jacob was smiling, not even a hint of dissatisfaction in his voice. Was he just pretending that he wasn't upset?

"Oh, yeah," Leonard nodded, "You remember my sister-in-law, Sofía, right?" he paused briefly as Jacob nodded in confirmation, "Well, her side of the family spoke it constantly, so Jerry—"

"I just remembered I have to call Beth!" Jerry quickly handed off his fishing pole to his dad as he hurriedly pulled out his phone, "Um, it'll be quick! Just, uh, sorry," he gave a sheepish grin as he moved to place distance between himself and the two men.

"Take your time!" Leonard called after him, a smile on his face.

Jerry didn't bother replying, sighing heavily as he dialed Beth's number, placing his phone to his ear. As the phone rang, he moved the tip of his foot to make various circles in the dirt to occupy himself, distract himself from the uncomfortable ache in his chest.

It was like that afternoon he had accidentally broken one of the plates in their house and he drove to the store to buy a replacement without telling her. Only worse.

She picked up on the fourth ring.

"Hey, sweetie," her voice was riddled with exhaustion, "How's your first day back?"

"Oh, uh, it's…" he swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the string of words he couldn't say desperately pushing up his throat, "It's going great," he smiled reassuringly, despite the fact Beth couldn't see him, "Um, Dad, Jacob and me were actually just about to go fishing."

"Oh, yeah? I'm sure that'll be fun."

There was brief shuffling, then he heard her hands moving frantically over the keyboard in their bedroom. She was half listening.

Half caring.

"How're the kids? Is Summer feeling okay?" Jerry briefly glanced back at Leonard and Jacob, who were chatting happily about one thing or another. He could only hope Leonard wasn't talking about Sofía.

"They're fine. Summer's been spending a lot more time at her friend's house–Tricia, I think was her name? And Morty's been getting his homework done before bed. Dad's mostly working in the garage on his inventions."

Jerry couldn't help but scoff at the last bit, "[… of course he is,]" he muttered, "Um, well, has Summer mentioned anything to you at all? About her mood?"

"'Her mood?'" Beth echoed, the slightest hint of annoyance behind her voice, as if the question he asked was the most nonsensical thing he'd ever said.

"She just… seemed off before I left, so… I wasn't sure if she talked with you about anything or not," he explained, trying to be vague, because the last thing he needed was to say something wrong, to upset Summer by telling Beth something she hadn't wanted to talk about.

There was a brief silence as Beth's typing became more frantic, then there was the faintest frustrated sigh, "Look, I'm sure she's fine, Jerry," she replied, "She's a teenager, after all, and they always have some weird drama going on."

Well, she wasn't really wrong about that. Teenagers always seemed to find themselves tied to strange rumors and even stranger circumstances. Though, that didn't make him worry any less.

"Yeah, you're probably right," he sighed, catching his dad and Jacob out of the corner of his eye.

They were probably getting annoyed that he was taking so long.

"Anyways, I need to finish some work, so I'll talk later," Beth said, almost hastily, "Let me know if anything happens, alright?"

"Alright… bye, honey," he paused for a moment, a lump forming in his throat, mouth agape as he tried to force out the words, "I love you."

"Yeah, love you too, bye."

The line went dead. Jerry sighed shakily, tucking his phone back into his pocket. It was fine, he reassured himself. She was just busy, that's all.

Just… busy…

—

"So, why did you decide to come visit today?" Dr. Wong asked as she took a seat in her recliner, pen and paper in hand.

"Ah, well…" Jerry trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought of what to say, how to even say any of it, "It's kind of stupid, I guess, but…" he swallowed thickly, remembering the many months that had passed by since his trip with Beth, "Um, Beth and I, a while ago, went on a trip to a… Titanic event, and… it, um…" he glanced up at her for just a moment, before focusing back on the coffee table, "This woman, Lucy… she… tried to… do things," Jerry made a vague gesture with his hand, finding the words too hard to say.

Dr. Wong scribbled something down in her notes, just a hint of sympathy in her eyes, "Is your wife aware of what happened?"

"She is… she's actually the one who stopped her," Jerry fiddled with a loose string on his sweater, trying to ignore the lingering sensations of past memories digging into his skin, "And I'm grateful for it, really. I just… she didn't seem to understand how I was feeling, or that it was—is hard to think about," he swallowed around the lump in his throat, one of his legs bouncing anxiously, "And I just, it's stupid. I'm being stupid, I know I am. I mean, I'm way too old to care about this sort of thing, right?" he chuckled, shrugging his shoulders as he finally met Dr. Wong's eyes, as if prompting her to agree with him, because she should agree with him, shouldn't she?

"Jerry," she spoke carefully, dropping the usual formalities, "What you've gone through is not stupid. It is perfectly natural for you to have a negative reaction to sexual assault no matter how old you are."

Jerry's eyes widened, searching her face for any form of deception, because she had to be lying, right? There was no way it was normal for him to be upset about it, he shouldn't be upset about it, because he was older and it shouldn't bother him—

There was a hand on his knee, the smell of alcohol in his nose, fabric under the palms of his hands, stubble scraping against his skin.

—because it didn't bother Beth, not even when he brought up the champagne or the man and why couldn't he just get swallowed into a black whole, why couldn't he just forget about everything, why did it all hurt so much?

"Relax, we're just having fun."

Jerry's breath hitched, and a sob poured out of him before he had the chance to stop it. He couldn't even manage to hold in his tears.

"Deep breaths," Dr. Wong's voice was gentle, quiet, as she held a box of Kleenex out to him, "Find something to touch, focus on what it feels like, ground yourself."

Jerry shakily moved his hands to touch the couch he was sitting on, gripping at the fabric to desperately remind himself where he was.

God, he was pathetic.

The air was cool, fighting against the warmth of the sun that shined down onto the murky water. It was almost calming, if not a little strange sharing the silence of isolation with his father and Jacob as the water occasionally caused a creak to emit from the small boat.

Jerry stared at the worms in the pail as they squirmed impatiently. If Beth was here, what would she say?

"Using yourself as bait? Talk about a new low."

He sighed, carefully moving to grab a worm and pin it to the hook. The quiet that had settled over the small boat reminded him of the very first time Leonard had ever taken him fishing.

"We don't want to scare the fish away, so be real quiet, okay, Jer?"

Jerry had grinned up at him all bright eyed as he covered his mouth with his hands, nodding his head. It made his dad laugh and tousle his hair in response.

He couldn't help but smile faintly at the memory, a longing in his eyes. Why couldn't things have just… paused for a little bit? Just for a few minutes, so he could stay a kid a little longer. So he didn't have to… grow up…

Jerry swallowed thickly, tightening his grip on his fishing pole, "[Everything just had to fall apart, huh?]" he muttered, just barely a whisper.

(A/N): So, this chapter turned out way longer than I was first expecting... I think it was because of how much I wanted to focus on and incorporate—specifically with the Dr. Wong flashbacks. I'd also like to say that I, myself, have not been to therapy yet (still waiting on time and money), so if I've misjudged what might be said in any of her interactions with Jerry please let me know, and I'll try to fix them as best I can!

I was also a bit worried that some scenes might be dragged on for too long, but was unsure of how to shorten them without lessening their impact, and that goes double for scenes that felt too short. So, I'm sorry if this came out a bit more rough than normal.

And as always, every comment I've received so far has been greatly appreciated and is really motivating me to do my best with this fanfiction!

If I can improve anything, just let me know! Constructive criticism is always appreciated and thank you for reading!