A/N: I think it is safe to say that I have kind of neglected this story recently. With the episodes coming back, I got a little bit excited and totally cast this one to the side... along with the others I have on going. I'm sorrrry! But, with next weeks episode quickly approaching, I feel like now would be a good time to post a new chapter... and hopefully the ideas will come flooding back. I know exactly what the plan is, and there probably won't be a ridiculous amount more of chapters... it's just pinning the time down to write them.

Anyway, I'm rambling.

Everybody's waiting for you to break down; everybody's watching to see the fall out. Even when you're sleeping, keep your eyes open.

-Eyes Open, Taylor Swift

Lindsay had no idea what time it was but it was late; probably early morning actually. It was definitely still dark out, but there was a bedside light that her Dad must have turned on before he fell asleep in the chair next to her bed. He hadn't left her side. She sighed heavily as she thought about how many aches and pains he'd have when he woke up. She sat up in bed and could feel her head banging. It always happened when she cried. The first time she'd broken her arm she had cried until she'd made herself sick. Her sister had picked up the pieces though and made everything seem better and even with the bone practically poking through her skin; they'd found a way to giggle about it. Now though, there didn't seem to be anything to giggle about.

She reached over for the cup of water on her bedside table, and just as she was about to grab it, her father jumped in his sleep, making her send the water flying to the floor. She cursed under her breath as she realised that she would have to go into the bathroom to get a paper towel to clean it up. She hadn't been to the restroom yet. She wasn't sure whether she could handle the demons that were waiting in there for her. Every time she closed her eyes she could see the faces and blood pools of her friends. There had been a few times when she closed her eyes that she had seen herself tucked into a ball in the corner of the restroom. She hadn't had to go yet, but she was getting to the place where she would need to suck it up and just go… but thinking that she had to do something and physically being able to do something was two entirely different things. Her brain was a lot more capable than her body at the minute. Even though she was talking herself into doing it… she didn't think she could move her body into the small room.

She swung her feet over the bed and let one foot fall to the cold, hospital floor. The other foot soon joined and she was stood from the bed. It felt actually okay to stretch her legs. The first step was fine, so was the second step. The third wasn't too bad… but as she hit the fourth step, she realised that she was nearly at the bathroom. Her heart rate increased tenfold as she reached for the handle and as her hand connected with the metal, she could hear the gunshots ringing in her ears, accompanied with her friends' screams.

She let go of the handle and slid down the wall as she crumbled at the bottom of the door, sobbing heartily as she desperately fought for the images of her dying friends to leave her mind's eye. Without her realising, she felt a strong pair of arms wrap themselves around her as they scooped her up from the pile she had collapsed into. She felt safe in the arms and she tucked her head into the neck of the familiar scent. Through her tear-filled eyes, she could see the outline of her Daddy, coming to her rescue. He confidently strode across the hospital room and instead of placing Lindsay back into the bed, he sat in the chair, and sat her on his lap. Automatically, she snuggled into his body and she buried her face into his oxford shirt as her tears overpowered her. She sobbed for the loss of her friends, she sobbed for the memories she couldn't get rid of and she sobbed because she was tired. She was so tired, but every time she closed her eyes, she found herself in the middle of a living nightmare.

"Let it all out," Mike whispered into his daughter's hair as she gripped to him tightly, praying he didn't move from the protective cocoon that he had placed her in. "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere, honeybee."

"I want it to go away, Daddy." She whimpered in-between her tears.

"I know you do, honey. I know."

A half hour later, and with the assistance of her Dad stood holding her hand, Lindsay battled the bathroom demon. Once they had got into the bathroom itself, she had been almost instantly ready to leave when it seemed to be closing in on her. But rather than let her scramble out of the bathroom like she desperately wanted to, her Dad gripped her shoulders and stared her down, telling her that everything was okay and nothing was going to happen to her while he was there. Using his words as a mantra, she looked at him for one more boost of confidence before she nodded to him, signalling for him to turn around.

Her heart rate was beating ten to the dozen and all she could hear was the thrumming of her heart in her ears. She was absolutely positive that the sensation wasn't natural, but then again, the emotions she was feeling wasn't exactly natural. And, if she was completely honest, the sound of her anxious heart was a better sound than the screams of her best friends.

She washed her hands quickly, emotions overcoming her when she realised that the last time she had done this, she was washing Kelly's blood from them. And then the time before that had been the reason why she was still here.

By the time that ordeal was over, it was breakfast time, and Lindsay was subjected to nasty the hospital food that she wasn't even sure qualified as food. One look to her father had him smiling and he pressed a kiss to her forehead as he grabbed his wallet and asked her what she wanted. She'd managed a weak smile and asked for a blueberry muffin and a fruit cup. She knew she couldn't handle anything heavy, and both were things that she didn't have to eat right there and then if she lost her appetite like she suspected she might.

That had been fifteen minutes ago; and her ears perked up at the sounds of a knocking at her door. Her raspy voice called for whoever it was to come in, and she blinked at the person standing in the doorway.

"Mom." Lindsay whispered.

"Hello honey," she said softly as she made her way into Lindsay's hospital room. "How are you?"

Lindsay shrugged in response. Just like everyone who had come into her room so far. Lindsay observed her mother, looking for that damned look in her eyes. Her eyes connected with her mother's and she felt her insides squeeze in disappointment. She'd seen a little bit of the look in her father, but as quickly as she had seen it, it had disappeared. However, for her mom – it was probably the worse she'd seen in anyone. And it wasn't going anywhere.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Lindsay whispered sadly as her mother sat on the edge of her bed.

"I'm not looking at you like anything. I'm just glad to see you safe."

"No, you're not. You're looking at me as if you feel sorry for me. I don't want you to look at me like that, Mom."

"Lindsay, I'm not looking at you like anything sweetheart."

"You are," she whispered sadly as her mother pulled her into a one armed hug. "Where have you been? I wanted you here, why didn't you come with Daddy?"

"Lindsay, just let me hold you for a minute. I want to know you're alright."

"I'm not alright though, Mom." Lindsay scoffed as she edged herself away from her mother. "I really needed you and you weren't here!"

"I know I wasn't, but I'm here now honey."

"But I needed you before. I didn't want Daddy, I wanted you…" She narrowed her eyes as her mother pulled her into a hug despite her physical protests, "You weren't here. You didn't care enough to come. He was the one that was here for me and I was horrible to him. So I feel bad for that now and I shouldn't be feeling bad about something that I shouldn't even be feeling. You should have been here, Mom. I needed you."

"I couldn't Lindsay," her mother whispered. "I needed to cry. I needed to get it out of my system before I saw you."

"But you haven't got it out of your system yet because you're still looking at me in that way."

"Lindsay, I don't know what you're talking about, honey."

Lindsay angrily swiped away a tear that had slipped down her cheek. Noticing her anger, Dana put a hand on Lindsay's. "It's okay to be sad, Lindsay."

"I know I can be sad about it," she informed her mother as she shuffled away from her. "You don't have to tell me to be upset, Mom. I'm definitely upset."

"I just don't want you to hold anything back."

"Like you are," Lindsay countered.

"Enough about that," Dana looked down at her daughter. "Lindsay listen to me, the police officer told me that you told the person that did this your name. We need to talk about this because, well, we may have to do something about it if this person knows your name."

"Not exactly," she whispered. "I gave him a name but I didn't give him my name."

"What name did you give?"

"I don't want to say," Lindsay whispered.

"Why honey? You can tell me." At Lindsay's hesitance, Dana pressed on. "Lindsay, you're safe, whatever you did to keep yourself safe won't make me mad. It'll make me proud."

Lindsay narrowed her eyes as she watched her mother's reaction. She was looking for some indication that what her Mom has just said was untrue. But, as much as she was searching, she couldn't find it. Taking a deep breath, she licked her lips and prepared herself for what she was about to say.

"I used Lydia."

Her mother sat back in the chair and blew out air between her parted lips. "Lydia?"

Lindsay nodded. "Are you mad?"

"I'm not Lindsay, I'm not mad. I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to do that. It will have kept you safe; it's a weight off my mind."

"But you're mad."

"Lindsay, honey, I'm not mad."

"You are, I can tell." Tears were rising in Lindsay's bloodshot eyes. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to do it… I just don't think and her name always comes out of my mouth."

"Honey, she was your sister. It's okay to miss her. She would have wanted to keep you safe. She would be right here if she was still here, you know that. If saying her name to strangers makes you feel safer, than that's okay. Why would I be mad, honey?"

"Because that was her name and she's not here anymore to use it."

"That doesn't mean you can't say it." She whispered as she sat on the edge of Lindsay's bed and pulled her daughter into her arms. "It's been a tough few years for you," she said softly. "First sissy, then Grandpa, and now the girls? Anyone would wonder how you're still holding it together. The boys are worried sick. I thought we would give you a little time before I released them on you."

"Like you wanted to wait to see me yourself?" Lindsay tugged herself away from her mother. "At least they want to see me."

"Lindsay, that's not fair honey, you know I wanted to see you."

"Do I? I don't know Mom, I'm not too sure… it's not as if you were here for me to see that, were you?"

"I guess I deserve that," she said sadly. "I just didn't want to scare you. I try really hard not to cry in front of you Lindsay."

"I know that," she said. "You've never cried in front of me. Dad has, but you haven't."

"Because somebody needs to be the strong one, Lindsay."

"Why does anyone have to be strong? Why can't we just cry when we want to cry? I do. Logan does, Dad does, Brad does. Lydia did. It's just you, Mom."

"We don't need to make this about me, Lindsay. This is about you, honey."

"It's about me? Okay, well when I'm older and I have a daughter, I will make sure that when she needs me, I'm there before she even realises she needs me… and when I feel like I need to cry, I'll cry. I want her to know that crying is okay, Mom. Not like you." Lindsay took a deep breath from her rant and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and looking towards her mother. "I think you should go."

"Lindsay…. Honey…"

"No, go." She said as she curled herself into a ball. "I want to be by myself."

"Lindsay-"

"What don't you understand, Mom? Go!"

To add insult to her mother's injury, Lindsay turned away from her and laid down on the bed with silent tears slipping down her cheek. She felt her mother stand and she squeezed her eyes tight. She hadn't meant to be so horrible, and most of the things she had said, she hadn't even meant… but once again, and like she had with her Daddy, she'd pushed her Mom away. She waited for her mother to kiss her, just like she usually did… but instead of the kiss, she heard footsteps, heading towards the door. She turned over her shoulder just in time to see her mother shut the door behind her.

And in that moment, Lindsay realised that watching her mother cry wouldn't have been half as destructive as it had been to watch her close the door.

"Hey sis," Logan smiled as he settled next to his sister's bed with her requested blueberry muffin and fruit cup. "Orders from Pop. He and Mom are getting coffee and she's having a smoke outside. Mom seemed upset, which probably explains the cigarette."

She turned around from where she had been laying on her bed with her eyes closed to see her older brother. Ignoring his onslaught of information he'd just given her she searched him for some indication for the look of guilt for her current situation but… she couldn't see it. She could see worry. She could see anger, but no guilt. It was a refreshing change and she could feel herself relax in his presence. "I wasn't expecting to see you. You didn't need to come."

"Do you have any idea how scared I've been?" he implored, ignoring her surprise and disbelief at his visit. "What the fuck happened, Linds?"

"Surely they've told you…" She looked at him through her lashes as she opened her fruit cup and picked out a piece of watermelon and popped it into her mouth. She chewed it with distaste plastered across her face before closing the lid again.

"Not nice?" he asked, amused with her reaction.

"Not hungry," she replied.

They kept me and Brad in the dark, Linds. All we knew was that you survived a shooting and the girls had died. What the fuck. What happened? Where were you?"

"The diner," she said sadly. "Just the usual."

"So you weren't in like New Mexico or something? Harlem in New York maybe? Who the fuck has a gun in Bozeman? Well, has a gun and uses it for anything other than recreational stuff."

"Logan, stop cussing." She scowled. "It sounds horrible and it isn't nice."

"I'm angry Lindsay. I'm real angry. Did you recognise the d-bag that did this?"

"No." she shook her head. "It looked like he was from out of town."

Logan nodded silently. He observed his sister carefully and laid a hand on her's.

"I'm okay, Logan." She said softly. "He didn't even know I was there."

"I'm not looking at you for physical scars, Linds. I'm looking for something a little bit deeper here."

"Well I'm fine."

"That's a lie." He pointedly told her. "When you say you're fine, I know you're anything but. It may fool the professionals, it may even fool Mom and Dad but it doesn't fool me, Linds."

"Who turned you into a conspiracy theorist?"

He shook his head and sighed sadly. "Listen, I know you're conscious of them watching you break down. I get it, okay? I know that you're keeping this inside. I know that you're putting it into a little basket and tucking it away; don't do it Linds. You did it when Lydia died and you did it when Grandpa died. If you keep this inside, it will destroy you. You know no-one else is going to straight up it to you like I am, okay? You know this is the real deal. You need to let it out. Mom told me you said you were upset, and Dad told me you kept asking him why you. Well that isn't good enough. You need to cry and scream. I know you. When Jimmy didn't turn up to homecoming you sobbed into your pillow for a week. This isn't a no-show to the homecoming… this is more than that."

"I have cried," she argued. "I've cried a lot."

"Silent tears." Logan raised his eyebrows pointedly. "Not proper tears, Lindsay."

"I have cried, Logan!" she protested. "I cried with Daddy an hour ago."

"Not tears that you should have. You haven't gotten the anger, hurt and upset out. You're still numb. You don't know what to feel yet. You don't know whether to be upset, angry, scared, worried, hurt… all that sh-stuff." He winked at her as he curbed his curse word before it slipped out. "Brad's distracting the nurses with questions. I want you to come with me."

"I can't." She sighed. "They only let me go to the bathroom."

"So let's go to the bathroom."

"That's the bathroom." She pointed to a closed door in her room. "I haven't managed to go in by myself yet though. I'm a bit scared about what I might see when I'm in there. I broke down earlier and Dad had to pick me up off the floor."

"Let's go stretch your legs then. I'm with you, nothing will happen. We won't leave the hospital… we'll just leave this god ugly room and sort your life out, okay?"

Lindsay pursed her lips together. It sounded like a good idea but….

"Do you trust me Linds?"

"What?" she implored, "What a stupid question; you know I do."

"Come on then," he said as he pulled back the covers on her bed and gestured for her to get out of bed. She took a deep breath before she reached for her brother's hand as he helped her get out of bed.

Maybe it was what she needed… maybe she needed to break down; maybe she needed to let her heart break completely instead of barely holding it together. Mending a shattered heart would surely be better than keeping it all together, right?

On her tiptoes, she followed her brother out of her hospital room and down the hallway before turning into the next hallway, away from the nurses who had been watching her. As waited to see where Logan was leading them until she found herself being tugged into a janitor's closet. She looked to him with questions in her eyes and he simply smiled at his confused sister as he pulled her towards him in a tight hug. "Nobody's watching for the breakdown. I'm not looking. Do what you need to do, kiddo. Cry like I know you need to. Nobody's watching. Just cry."

And for the first time since everything had happened, she didn't hold back. She didn't keep the sobs in and she didn't think about what everyone would be thinking of her. For the first time since she'd heard her friends being killed, she cried. She cried for them and she cried for herself. She gripped to Logan, as he gripped to her and with the tears and screams that came, he didn't falter in his support once. He wasn't watching her breakdown, nor was he judging. He was right there with her, doing exactly what she needed; being her brother.

I have quite a soft spot for this chapter for some reason, so I hope that you liked it too. Thanks for reading... I'd love to know what you thought if you wouldn't mind sparing a minute! :)