Parker Langdon hated therapy. She hated having to sit in front of someone and talk only of herself — she wasn't particularly keen on talking about herself, she never had been.

"So."

"Parker, you can't keep avoiding therapy."

"Sure I can, you plan to leave as soon as possible, no?" Parker questioned, crossing her legs as she rocked back and forth on the rocking chair. "I'm sorry about what happened to Valerie, Tate told me about it. I don't think I've ever seen him so . . . affected? Hurt, maybe? He took it very badly, rather."

Ben sighed. Ever since their home had been invaded, Valerie hadn't been the same — he didn't blame her, but watching how she was affected was so much harder then he had ever thought something like that could be.

"We're not her to talk about Valerie, or Violet or anyone else. You want to get to the roots of you OCD and suicidal thoughts. To do that, you need to talk."

Parker rested her head back, shaking her head. "Every night, all I see is my siblings fallen body, every night I feel that I need to just end it all, Doctor Harmon."

She let out a shaky sigh, bring her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. She rested her head on her knees and rocked back and forth, watching Ben with tearing up eyes.

"I see it every night."

Ben watched as the fifteen year old trying to hold herself together.

"I don't want keep seeing them. I can't keep seeing them. Not Addy, or Tate, or Rose, or Beau. I can't handle it."

Ben watched the way Parker's grip tightened around her legs, as she rocked quicker and quicker.

"Three out of four, Ben. Three out of four. Or maybe four out of five. It was inevitable really, inevitable that I fell deep, deep into a mess of my own mind." She chuckled weekly, moving her forehead to rest on her knees instead of her chin. "Obsessive compulsive disorder and depression, can you think of a worse mix?"

"How do you stop these thoughts, Parker?"

"Anything to numb my mind, Doctor Harmon, it's surprising the lengths I'm willing to go, once I'm able to leave the locks and switches alone. I see your youngest a lot, she helps, or my siblings."

Ben wasn't particularly impressed to hear how Parker would sneak in to his home and find Violet. But then he supposed with the events of a few days prior, Violet needed someone and as long as Parker was around, his daughter had someone to rely on.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Valerie wasn't quick to heal, she doubted she ever would be completely and utterly ok. She was sat outside on the wall, smoking away her troubles whilst Tate was hid behind the wall upon the two noticing Ben Harmon.

Valerie looked at her father, purple bags under her eye.

She avoided the spare room, she wouldn't sleep in her own bed. She slept on the floor or she didn't sleep at all. Hell, she got rid of her bed and kept her mattress to ensure she didn't have to sleep on a bed. Valerie wanted a new bed, one that was nothing like the spare room bed, one that was anything but a wooden four post bed. She was in the process of getting a new bed, they were just waiting for it to arrive.

"I'm sorry."

"Why?" Valerie questioned, turning her body in order to dangle her legs on the side closer to her father.

"Because what you guys went through last week, Val, can haunt you for a long time."

"Dad, I'm fine." She tried, giving him a lazy smile. "See, I'm even smiling."

"Valerie."

"I'll even write a story on this house, like the Diary of Anne Frank . . . you know, she never wanted it published and now people romanticise some of her words, it's gross really."

Ben gave her a sad sort of smile. There wasn't much he could say to help his daughter.

Valerie wasn't in a place where she wanted help, she was still processing everything she went through and dealing with the physical evidence of what happened to her — mostly the rope burns around her wrists and ankles that she tried to ignore.

"If you need someone to talk to—"

"Dad." She looked at him. "No."

"No, Valerie, I'm way too expensive for you." Ben told her. Valerie laughed lightly, a small smile evident on her lips as she shook her head. "But we can find out someone."

Valerie stumped out her cigarette. She never had liked them — she merely hoped it would help her ignore everything that went on. She felt like she was polluting herself by taking them, she saw it as a cheap way to poison herself.

Valerie held out her arms and Ben stepped forward carefully wrapping his arms around her. She placed her head on his shoulder, ignoring how her eyes watered as she tightly gripped her father.

Valerie pulled away, feeling the overwhelming sensation take over. "I'll think about it." She said, giving him an awkward smile.

Ben nodded before leaving her alone.

Tate glanced at Valerie and she nodded, telling him he was free to jump up. The boy sat on the wall. "He's a great dad. He really cares."

Valerie stared at Tate.

"You're lucky like that."

Valerie merely blinked at him, crossing her legs before grabbing a small enough bottle of whiskey and opened it. She took a sip before handing the bottle to the boy.

Valerie and Tate shared the vodka, sharing cheap smiles and small laughs. Valerie moved her legs to lay them over top Tate's lap.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Valerie loved the house they lived at — except one particular room, but she could easily avoid it, so as far as she cared she was okay living in the 'Murder House'.

She laid on her mattress, headphones over her ears, a thin yet heavy blanket over her body as she tried to catch up on her sleep.

She tossed and she turned, but none of it mattered as the loud lyrics of her music finally lulled her into a twisted sleep. One where she bared witness to the crimes that happened amongst her body.

Silent tears left her eyes, but she did not awake to see the peace amongst her own room, instead she stayed as a bystander to it all.

Sleep hadn't ever been particularly kind to Valerie, but it was something the sixteen year old grew accustomed to. Her tired body and mind was a victim to her trauma.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Parker and Violet laid peacefully on the blonder haired girls bed. Violet's arms were tightly wrapped around Parker's waist, her head resting near the girls neck.

Earlier that night — before Violet had fell peacefully to sleep — the girl had teased Parker with small kisses to the back of her neck.

Violet smirked against Parker's skin as Parker tried to keep her breath even the whole time. Their hands interlocked as they stayed there, one asleep, one awake.