AN: Umm…writer's block sucks. It's taken me forever to write this chapter (I re-wrote it about ten times), so…yeah. Sorry so long for an update; I hope everyone keeps reading! The next chapter will be heavy with Bobby/Alex content, I promise. :)

Warning: I do want to say that some parts of this chapter could likely be disturbing/upsetting as it does contain several flashbacks. I always write flashbacks/memories in the form of dreams, in italics, and if you are easily upset, I'd recommend skipping over them.

Residence of Mike Logan

Thursday, July 13th, 10:40 AM

"Okay," Mike said, closing his apartment door behind him, "Why don't you have a seat in the living room, and we'll have a talk. Do you want something to drink, honey?"

Rebecca shook her head, sitting on the couch as he'd asked her to. Mike got himself a glass of water, and then joined her.

"I'm really glad you're going to be staying with me, Becky, and I hope you'll be really happy here. There's just a couple things we need to talk about." Mike said, thinking of what to say as fear flickered in her eyes, "Don't worry. You're not in trouble. Okay?"

"…Okay…" Rebecca said shakily.

"I know you're Catholic, so I thought I'd try to get you enrolled in Catholic school. Would you like that?"

"Yes." Rebecca replied, her eyes downcast.

"I also spoke to one of my friends. Her name is Elizabeth, and she's a psychologist. I'd like for you to talk to her. She's really nice, and very helpful. I booked appointments for both of us tomorrow morning."

"Okay." Rebecca said, forcing herself to look up, distance still dominating her eyes; mistrust abundant.

"I can't think of many things I need to tell you in the ways of rules," Mike said, "I don't bring my gun home, so I don't have to warn you about touching that. If I'm at work during the day, and you want to go somewhere, you can reach me on my cell phone. Do you have any questions, Becky? Anything you want to ask about anything you think I might expect?"

Rebecca merely shrugged.

"Whatever you expect, I'll do." She responded, "I don't really care, Mike."

It broke Mike's heart to see the vulnerability in her eyes; knowing what she said was true. He could ask her to do anything, and she would just do it.

The breakdown of a child's psyche; the degradation of a kid's spirit…it had always been a mystery to him how it happened; had been a mystery even though he himself had been down that road.

And he knew, deep down, that the only way he could help Rebecca right now was by remembering. It was through remembering the trauma that he could remember healing. And probably only through remembering the way he'd begun to heal that he could help her.

"What do you think I'd…expect of you?" Mike asked, his voice gentle.

Rebecca shrugged again, her eyes darkening.

"What most men do."

Mariette had informed Mike of all she could about Rebecca's case, but had admitted that there were things that Rebecca hadn't opened up to either her or Alex and Bobby about.

"What did they make you do, Rebecca?" Mike said.

Instantly, she started trembling; shivering beyond control, distance in her eyes…she was back there…she was back there!…they were…God, no…no, don't let him, please…and now someone was persistently calling her name…Rebecca…Rebecca…Rebecca…

"Rebecca!"

She shook herself back to reality, her eyes going from distanced to fearful, Mike's changing from desperation to understanding.

"…Sorry…" She said softly.

"No, honey," Mike said, "I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about what happened right now, okay? You can tell me when you're ready."

"You're not like most men, are you?" She said, fear still dominant in her eyes, "What do you expect of me?"

"I expect you to be who you are, Becky," Mike said softly, "Look at me. You're a good kid. I know that. I'm not going to list off a million rules for you to follow because I trust you to not do stupid things. Just one rule, okay? No hurting yourself."

Rebecca nodded, agreeing.

"I know you're scared, sweetheart. But you don't have to be. You're safe now. I'm not going to hurt you, okay? I promise you. And I want you to know something, okay? If you ever want to talk to me, you can. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

Residence of Mike Logan

11:10 PM

The clock at my bedside reads 11:40 PM. I'm sitting on my bed, choking back the fear as I sit here in a black, lace mini-dress. I can hear mom and Martin talking outside of my room, another voice joining the ones of my mother, and my pimp.

And despite the heat of the room, I start to shiver.

Mom walks into my room, looks at the dress I selected, and nods approvingly.

"You're a beautiful girl, Becca."

I nod, choking on my fear as I sit up. Mom puts her hand over mine.

"After this, it'll be over for a while, okay? His name is John, and he's paid for two days."

I nod. It registers, and yet it doesn't.

Martin walks in as she walks out.

"Remember our policy, Becca. For the next ten hours, he owns you, and you will do whatever he wants you to."

He leaves, and John walks in, carrying a bag with him.

"Becca," He says.

I force back my fear, doing what I know has to be done. There's no choice.

"Hi John. Well…most men I can read right away, but you, sir, are a different story." I force a smile, flirting.

"Aren't you sweet?" He says, something in his voice scaring me even more, "Why don't you lay down, and we'll have some fun?"

I do so, my fear constricting my throat to the point that I'm gasping for air. He takes rope out of the bag, tying my hands and ankles to the bedposts, leaving me spread-eagled.

"Hmmm…what are you gonna do to me, John?" I force out flirtatiously.

"Better question," John says to me, holding up a broom handle, "What should I do with this?"

And that's when my fear takes over. I start to cry- pleading, desperate sobs.

"John…don't…please…no…"

"That's more like it," He responds, laughing, slowly moving the handle up my leg "Let's see what else you can do."

Residence of Mike Logan

Thursday, July 13th, 11:40 PM

Mike woke, startled, from where he lay on his couch, to the sound of soft cries from Rebecca's room. Hurrying to the end of the hall, Mike threw open the door, revealing Rebecca, who was sitting up in her bed, her knees pulled to her chest as she rocked back and forth, the bedside lamp turned on.

Upon seeing Mike, Rebecca openly shivered, the fear in her eyes doubling.

"I'm sorry," She said softly, trying the approach she had, Mike was sure, used with her mother, her mother's boyfriend, and dozens of other men who had done God only knew what to her.

Mike was unsure of what to do- approach her when she was clearly so afraid, or leave her here like this…alone. In the end, though, he knew, he wouldn't be able to leave her like this even if he wanted to. The decision was made.

"Please…please…I'm sorry," She whispered, her pleas becoming more and more desperate as Mike walked towards her; involuntarily cowering as she looked up at him, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I…"

She broke off into a sound somewhere between a whimper and a sob as Mike reached out to touch her; broke off into a sound that broke his heart.

Moving his hand away and kneeling in front of her, Mike tried to think of what to say; tried to find the words.

"What's wrong, Becky?" He asked softly, on the verge of tears at her shudders, her downcast eyes.

"You'll hurt me." She whimpered.

"No." Mike said gently, shaking his head, sincerity shining in his eyes.

Slowly but decidedly, Mike reached out and caressed Rebecca's cheek. Rebecca closed her eyes and let herself revel in the feeling- the gentle, fatherly touch. A moment of comfort and security that she had never known. A loving, parental touch had been few and far between, usually after the worst nights spend with mean who all too often didn't want a woman they could sleep with- they paid for a woman, or girl, who they could brutalize; torture; degrade; defile. All so her mother could support her habits.

Rebecca had never known with her mother. On the nights Rebecca had woken up screaming, there were times when her mother would be at her side in a moment, kissing her forehead, stroking her hair. More often than not, though, the punishment for a scream was a couple cigarette burns; a bruise on her face; a cut on her arm.

Remembering, a tear began to fall down her face before she could force it back. She moved to wipe it away, but Mike beat her to it, gently wiping it away, then stroking her cheek one last time before moving his hand to his side.

"Rebecca, I want you to look at me."

"I'm scared."

"I know you are, kiddo, and that's okay. But there's nothing to be scared of. Come on. Open your eyes."

Slowly, Rebecca lifted her eyes to meet Mike's, surprised to find only love and understanding in them in replacement of the anger she'd been so used to with other men she'd been with.

"Good girl," he said, taking her hands in his own, "Now, tell me what happened."

"I dreamed…back there…he was…surrounding me…forcing…inside me…"

Mike stroked back her hair, dreading the answer to the next question he knew he had to ask.

"How long did he have you, sweetheart?"

"Two days."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm not ready…" Rebecca said softly, ashamed.

"Okay," Mike responded, "I understand."

He stood, getting ready to leave, when one final thought crossed his mind.

"You're allowed to cry, you know." He said, his voice tender, "If you need to cry, cry. Go on, Rebecca. Have a good cry. There's no weakness in that."

She nodded almost unnoticeably, her eyes remaining dry.

"Let it go, my love. You'll feel better."

Slowly, her face started to crumple, and for the first time since after Mike had first found her, Rebecca began to cry- deep, tortured desperate cries.

And Mike, knowing there were a million and one things he could say, chose to say nothing. Despite all he could say, there still weren't the right words. So Mike, remaining silent, sat down beside her on the bed, rocking her gently in his arms, as several of his own tears fell.