Taking a deep breath, she tried to ride her stomach of the nervous feeling bubbling in it.

"Hello?" Her voice was slow and shaky.

"Where are you?" His voice shook her to the core. "Where have you been? I've been calling and calling."

"Sorry." She mumbled looking down at her feet.

"Did that bitch of a mother you have take your phone? Bitch. I'm glad she left. She was a no good bitch." His words were slurred casing tears to come to her eyes. "I never wanted her anyway. I got no good from her." There was a long gulp and she assumed he was chugging down the rest of his vodka. "She was worthless."

"Thatcher, you need to stop drinking."

She heard the crashing of glass against the floor. "Don't tell me what to do!" He screamed. "You're just like your mother. A no good whore who tells me what to do with me life."

Tears burned her cheeks and her air got stuck in her throat as she shut the phone and she fell back to the floor.

Thatcher some how tracked her down earlier that year. He would get drunk and call her. He would curse at her. Once he praised her until she set him off somehow. Once he was drunk and told her that he had a new family that made him happier then she ever could. He was more proud of that family than he ever was her.

The phone rang again. Her eyes traveled down to the screen even though she knew who it was going to be. His number flashed on the screen. She picked up the phone and threw it against the wall. Pieces exploded and rained down to the floor. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she couldn't breath. The room felt like it was closing in on her. She stood up and ran outside. She just needed to get out of there. The rain was falling heavily by now instantly soaking her hair, mixing with the tears and streaks of old make up. Bits of hair that had fallen to her bun stuck to her face. Cracks of thunder or flashes of lightning didn't affect her. She looked up at the sky and rain drops hit her face.

The screen door opened but she didn't notice when the three guys emerged standing under the canopy over part of the patio. She didn't look at them. Her sobs didn't falter.

"What is wrong with you?" Mark yelled over the crack of thunder. None of them noticed the tears against the rain. "Didn't mommy ever tell you not to play in the rain?"

"You'll get hypothermia." Preston added.

She looked at them. "When are you going to realize that I'm not six anymore?' She screamed through the sobs. "I'm not the same person. I was six! I was an annoying little six year-old with no friends. I was a six-year-old who watched her father leave without a second look back. I was a six-year-old who had to listen to her parents fight and hear my father call my mother a worthless whore at the age of three. I was a six-year-old who had to watch my mother move on only a month after my father left. But I'm not that same person anymore. But you three. You three are the same eight year olds." She took a deep breath and she squatted down putting her elbows on her knees and hands over her face. She continued to cry. She sniffled, standing up. "I've changed. I'm the worthless whore." She let out a laugh. "I'm the worthless whore." She said again quietly. "Who ruined everyone's life by being born or moving in next door or…" She couldn't finish her sentence. Taking a deep breath, she kept her eyes focused on the fence. "And if I never apologized for that." She looked at them. "Let me do it now. I'm so sorry that my life sucks. I am so sorry that when I was six I transferred that burden to you."

She pushed past them and went into the house.

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She stayed in her room all night and until about noon the next day. She didn't talk to anyone except for Christina. Hunger finally caused her to emerge. Her eyes were swollen and red. Her nose was stuffed. Her cheeks were still tear-stained. She walked downstairs and into the kitchen. Mark, Derek, and Preston sat in the kitchen eating sandwiches. She opened the refrigerator without looking at them. Grabbing some lunch meat and mayonnaise and the bread and chips out of the cabinet. She could feel them watching her as she made a sandwich, grabbed the bag of chips, and a pint of ice cream out of the freezer before walking out without a word or look at them.

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It was nearly five when the doorbell rang.

"Go get it, Burke." Derek and Mark mumbled without removing their eyes from the TV. Derek was actually paying attention to the TV. Mark's mind was on something, more someone else. Preston got up and walked over to the door hoping it wasn't anyone special seeing as they weren't really dressed in clothes to be seen in. He opened the door to have his gaze met with an Asian woman. She held a couple bags in her hand.

"Where's Meredith?" She asked sharply.

"I don't think she wants to see anyone right now."

"Move." She pushed past them.

"Hey! You can't just come in here." Derek said.

She didn't respond as she climbed the stair.

"Where are you going?" Mark said. "Who the hell are you?"

She got to the top of the stairs and they all gathered at the bottom of the staircase to see what would happen. She knocked on Meredith's door well aware they were watching her.

"Go away!" Meredith squealed.

"Mer, it's me."

There were footsteps and the door opened. "What are you doing here?"

"My person needs help. Plus it gave me a reason to leave Beverly Hills." She walked in and Meredith shut the door as she walked back into the room. "So I brought tequila…"

"Thank the lord for underage drinking."

"Amen to that. I also got comfort food."

Meredith looked in to see five pints of Ben and Jerry's ice cream, cookies, chips, chocolate, whipped cream, and powdered doughnuts.

"I am so glad you're my person."

They did this every time something went wrong in their lives.

"I'm going to go put some of the stuff in the freezer." Christina said before walking out.

"Thank you." Meredith called after her.

Christina walked back downstairs to find the guys watching TV. They watched her curiously as she walked towards the kitchen. They looked at each other before following.

"Who are you?" Preston asked.

She started loading the ice cream in the freezer. "If any of you lay a finger on these ice creams I will cut off your fingers and feed them to you." She threatened.

"Is that a threat?" Derek asked.

"No." She shut the door. "It's a promise."