Somewhere really deep in my brain,

I know.

I know this isn't a hallucination.

I just want it to be.

I'm still staring at the ceiling while the men talk quietly amongst themselves. They don't think I can hear them, but they are not being very quiet.

"Well, we can't just keep her locked up down here. I mean people are going to start looking for her if they realize what's happened," the gruff man said.

"Dean, what can we do? There is obviously a lot going on with her. If we can just find out her name, we can research her and find out anything we want to know, okay?" the tall man asked. I assume he and this Dean fellow are close because they banter like an old married couple.

I get up from the bed, since I'm no longer tied down, and go to the metal desk they kept in what they refer to as "the panic room". I rummage through some drawers and finally find a pen and paper. I start doodling and by this time, they have figured out I'm no longer counting the bolts. I start sketching my name, along with the symbols that fill my mind constantly. The doctor's wondered where I had learned them, but they have kind of always been there.

All four men crowd around me, watching the pen's strokes liter the paper. When I'm finished, I slowly push back the chair and head back to the bed. I curl up in a fetal position, facing the wall.

"Well, we have a name," the man called "Dean" said.

Hours later (well, it could have been minutes but it felt like hours), the men came back to the "panic room" and started to ask me questions.

I didn't answer.

Any of them.

"Can you tell us anything about the night when we found you?" the tall one asked.

No response.

"What happened? Were your parents and grandmother acting strange at all that day?" green eyes asked.

No answer.

"Can you tell us anything about your life? I mean, you have at least grown to trust us enough to give us your name," Sasquatch said. He raised his eyebrows and gave me a puppy dog look. I almost broke my vow of silence but then someone coughed (Dean, I think) and it broke me from my trance.

Again, no answer.

"Okay this is getting to be ridiculous," green eyes said. He pulled a gun from the back of his pants and aimed at me. I scooted against the wall and curled up in a ball. "Answer the goddamned questions, bitch."

"Whoa, Dean. Put the gun away. You can send her into an anxiety attack," Sasquatch said.

"Dean! What has gotten into you, boy!" the old man screeched. I felt my throat closing and the walls coming down on me. I looked around and saw the walls slowly crushing the air that occupied the "panic room". I heard shouting and banging. My vision started to blur as tears formed in my eyes. I started to hyperventilate.

Air supply to my lungs was cut off.

I shook and couldn't stop shaking. I was vaguely aware that my vocal chords were working to form some sort of word that resembled "stop". I kept seeing the gun pointed at my head through the blurry vision my tears created.

It never moved, never faded.

Two fingers touched my forehead and everything went dark.

When I woke up, I was still in the "panic room". Trench coat was sitting in the chair at the desk looking blankly at the wall on the opposite side of the room. He noticed I was awake, walked out and shut the door behind him. I flopped back down on the bed and huffed out the air that had returned to my body.

About five minutes later, all four men returned, the tall one carrying a tray of food. He set it down on the edge of the bed. He slowly backed up and stood next to the other men. They all watched me as I slowly scooted over to the food. It was a piece of chicken, wild rice, and mashed potatoes. There was another plate sitting on the desk that looked like pie.

I hate pie.

I slowly took a bite of the chicken after I cut it. I cut the whole piece into smaller pieces then set the knife down on the bed like I had to at the hospitals. They didn't want me to take the knife kill myself, hurt an orderly, or something. I never objected. Everyone had to do it so it wasn't like I was a flight risk.

They looked at me in confusion, as if they expected me to keep my knife on my plate. I shooed it with my free hand, and green eyes took the knife and set it next to the pie. I took a bite of the chicken and when I looked down it was covered in maggots and worms. The rice had turned into something; I have no idea what. I pushed the tray away and scooted away from it coughing at the maggots that crawled inside my mouth.

Like I said, I have gotten worse since Cara and Scott disappeared.

This never used to happen. I hadn't had an attack in two weeks (which was pretty good considering I got one at least once a day) up until Scott disappeared.

The police still hadn't found them.

The four took my tray away and Sasquatch sat on my bed and tried to comfort me. He reached his hands out and I screamed.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" I yelled. Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at me. Tears clouded my vision. "Don't, don't touch me," I said quietly this time.

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you," Sasquatch said. He shifted closer to me with his hands in front of him.

"Don't. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I… I… just stop please. Please, stop," I cried. The words were barely a whisper. Sasquatch kept scooting closer to me but when he enveloped me in a hug, I started to melt, but saw something out of the corner of my eye.

He found me. I thought. I haven't seen him since college. I thought I got rid of him. Oh no, no, no. I started to scream into Sasquatch's chest, pounding on him to release him.

When his grip finally loosened, I scrambled as fast as I could off the bed and ran towards the door. I started pounding on it.

"LET ME OUT! HE'S HERE!" I looked back towards green eyes where the man was standing. He was leaning against the wall where he raised his hand and twiddled his fingers in greeting. I looked down, and the hem of my flannel pants had caught fire and was slowly spreading over the pant legs, up towards my torso.

Obviously me trying to put out the flames that were on my pants, had to look like some type rain dance. The flames wouldn't cease so I just shrugged off my pants and chucked them at the man. Instead of hitting him, it hit green eyes, who immediately burst into flames.

"No, no, no," I ran over to my bed and wrapped my blanket around him and pushed him onto the ground. Then two rather large arms plucked me off of green eyes and plopped me onto the bed. The arms encircled me and I found a comfort there that I didn't know existed outside of Scott.

I cried into the chest that held me and wept. He rocked me back and forth in his lap, cooed to me. Told me it would be all right. I looked over his shoulder, and saw the man standing in the corner. My breaths grew shallow as he started to walk towards me.

He was inches from my face and yelled the first words he ever said to me all those years ago:

"GOOD MOOORNNNINNNG VIETNAAAM!"

When my eyes opened, Sasquatch was the big to my little spoon. He had his arm wrapped around my torso, which made me panic.

I scrambled out of his grasp rather abruptly and all but fell on the "panic room" door. The quick movements I made, woke him up.

"Hey, Hey," he said getting on the floor. He was on his knees as he started to make his way over to me. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. I just stayed down here last night after you passed out to make sure you were okay. You kinda fell asleep in my arms and wouldn't let go of my shirt, or else I would have brought a cot down and slept on that. It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." He got up and held his out for me to take.

Reluctantly I grabbed it, and stood up.

"Do you think you're ready to take a shower?" he asked. I liked his smile. It reminded me of Scott's. I nodded my head and sat back down on the cot.

"Hey Cas," he called. "Can you come open the door?" The door immediately flung open. And Trench coat stood there looking at us. Sasquatch held out his hand and I took, less reluctant as before, but still reserved. He helped me out of the "panic room" and up stairs. He held onto my hand and elbow as I walked up the stairs. The top of the stairs was a hallway that opened up to kitchen that was connected to a study. To my right there was a door that led outside. To my left, there was a set of stairs that led up to the second floor and a hallway that also led to the study and other rooms farther down the hall. Sam led me up the stairs and through another hallway.

"Here's the bathroom," he said as he opened a door. I looked in and saw a sink in the counter, and a tub shower that blocked off the toilet from the door. "I'll wait outside the door. Holler if you need anything." He closed the door behind him

I looked at myself in the mirror and realized I look like shit. I looked like death had taken over my body and I was just an empty shell. I was all sharp angles and bony points. After I take this shower, I'm going to exercise my ass off following a fifteen-course meal.

I stripped down and got into the warm water. I rubbed the grime off of me, washed my hair, and shaved. Oh good Lord, did my pits need to be shaved. I got out and wrapped myself in a towel. I was about to get dressed, but realized I had no clothes. I didn't want to use my voice with them yet, because for me that's like going to third base (and third base with me is like trying to score during the world cup: hard to do). They had to earn it.

And yes, while I did trust them a lot (some more than others), they hadn't earned the sound of my actual voice just yet. Again, yes they heard me shriek like a pterodactyl during one of my attacks, but my voice was scared to me.

I opened the door slightly and saw Sasquatch sitting against the wall on the other side of the hallway. He looked up and saw that I was in a towel. He blushed and looked the other way. I went over and sat down next to him. I had my dirty pajamas folded in my hands and I stared at them. He turned and noticed what I was holding.

"Oh, yeah. You don't have any clothes, do you?" He asked. I shook my head while he stood up. He reached out a hand towards me and helped me up. "You can borrow some of mine and Dean's clothes." He walked into bedroom that had two doubles on either side of the room. He shuffled through two different duffle bags and pulled out multiple items of clothing. "Here you, go. A pair of Dean's sweats that are too short, a pair of his clean boxers, one of my t-shirts, a Stanford sweatshirt that was my ex-girlfriends and should fit, and an old wife beater that doesn't fit Dean anymore so you can make some sort of bra out of that if you want." I took them and nodded my head. I was about to head back to the bathroom when he spoke again, "You can change in here if you want. I'll make sure no one comes upstairs so they can't accidentally walk in on you. Tomorrow, if you want, we can go and get you some new clothes and toiletries." He walked out and shut the door behind him.

I looked around the room and found a knife. I cut the tank top so it would fit more like a sports bra. There was a first aid kit on the desk in the room, so I used the dental floss and stitching needle through the fabric to make it a bit tighter. I slipped it on, impressed that it fit exactly like my expensive one from Nike, except for the slight nipplage. I put on the t-shirt over my make shift bra, then the boxers, then sweats. I had to roll the top of the sweats to make them fit my waist and roll the pant legs so they wouldn't drag on the floor. I wasn't quite cold enough to wear the sweatshirt so before I went to talk to the boys, I quietly slipped down to the basement and put the sweatshirt on the bed in the "panic room".

I tip toed back up the stairs and halfway up the ones that led to the second floor so if anyone saw me, I would be going down, not up.

I walked into the study and went over to the couch and sat down. Green eyes looked at me funny then turned to Sasquatch.

"Are those my sweats?" he asked. It sounded like he was pissed, but I couldn't tell.

"Yeah, and that's my shirt, she's wearing a clean pair of your boxers, and your old wife beater, which I suggested she fashion into a bra of sorts. Did you do that?" Sasquatch asked. I nodded. I got up and on my tippy toes, gave him and green eyes a kiss on the cheek to show my thanks. They both blushed and looked anywhere in the room but at me.

"Look, Kid," green eyes said finally looking me in the eye. "We need to talk."

Dean's POV

To say that she didn't look hot after cleaning up and walking around in my sweats would be a lie. She looked fucking hot. She long light brown, almost on the verge of a dark blonde, hair, tanned olive skin, and big hazel eyes.

Too bad she was cuckoo for cocoa puffs.

And when she kissed my cheek though, I had to think of my dad in a speedo to stop from getting a boner. I mean she had big breasts too, and since she wasn't wearing an actual bra, you could sometimes see her nipples. That alone could have set me off.

But we had business to take care of, so Little Dean needed to take a chill pill.

"Look, Kid," I say to her. "We need to talk."

Of course she didn't respond back, so Sam prompted her: "They night we rescued you, and yes, we did rescue you, your parents and grandmother were killed by a bad guy. We came in trying to stop him, cause that's what we do, and by the time we got there, your family was already dead and we were searching the house to make sure no one else was there, including the bad guy. I'm really sorry this is the way you had to find out, but it's the truth. And since we think this bad guy is targeting you, we are going to keep you safe for a while okay?"

She looked blankly at the wall with a bookshelf before slowly closing her eyes. She got up and walked out of the house. Of course we all follow her out into the junkyard.

I don't think she was expecting this, but she just rolled with it. She picked up a tire iron that was lying on the hood of a Junker and walked over to a car with all its windows. She smashed the first one, causing the rest of us to jump. She just kept smashing the car, the window, taillights, headlights, anything that would break.

And we let her.

We let her until she fell to the ground and gave up.

She gave up trying to be strong.

She just gave up and cried.