Jericho's ok; it wasn't enough to kill him. He'll wake up soon and no longer be on Xanax. The doctor told us he wasn't addicted based on the levels of Xanax in his body, but he wasn't responsible with his medication. The doctor said Jericho would have to go to therapy for his anxiety and suggested that Jericho might have some symptoms of PTSD. Xanax or any other medications for anxiety, panic, or depression won't be prescribed to him anymore.

Come to think of it, Jericho never told anyone what happened during his time in the navy. All he said was that it was hell, death at every turn. But he never said anything more than that.

Phoebe was taking this into account. She found Jericho passed out, and the doctors concluded he was passed out for at least an hour.

Phoebe's ok as well; her blood pressure's gone down, and so has her stress. Elora came an hour ago to comfort Phoebe. Khassy was already in the hospital; she finished her shift and hurried up to Jericho's room.

Vincent fell asleep, he was holding me, and all of a sudden, I heard his heavy breathing. I called him, and he didn't answer.

Phoebe then told me he was asleep, gone. His eyes closed, his head resting on mine.

I swear...tall people can do anything, even sleeping with their head on top of yours.

I don't blame Vincent for sleeping; he's been up, taking care of me. Vampires are essentially humans with powers and the need for blood.

They aren't animals; they're kind of like a human Vampire bat. They can be in the sun but work best in the dark.

Vincent tends to sleep during the afternoon and work during the mornings and evenings.

But he's been with me; no complaints.

After a while, Jericho woke up, confused about why he went from usually doing his thing to the hospital.

I explained everything to him. I was sad, angry...why didn't I stop him? Why couldn't I help him, be by his side? Instead, I cowered away, letting him get in trouble all by himself.

Jericho was diagnosed was anxiety when he was nine; he hid it very well. I don't remember what mom would do to him when we were younger, but it affected him severely.

Our dad took both of us, secretly, to get us checked. I do remember that.

Jericho went into an anxiety attack the day before. His report card came, and he had a C- in Spanish, something our mom forced him to take in elementary school.

Mom was going to beat his ass; she didn't use shoes, hangers, or a belt. She used chairs, wires, and heavy objects.

When dad was around, she gave us a small snack, barely hurt; that was a warning for "when your dad leaves, imma gonna hurt you."

After the one time I got in trouble for going to Harris Teeter after school instead of coming home, and she threw an old radio at me, I knew never to do that again.

It hit my stomach, and even though it wasn't enough to damage anything severely, it hurt like a bitch, and she kept going, beating me with a laptop charger.

I don't know who raised my mom, but they didn't do it right, that's for sure.

Maybe it's why I endured Derek's abuse....why I thought that acting the way he wanted me to would be enough.

I didn't have to endure, and Jericho didn't; he left as soon as he turned eighteen. That's why mom hit him with a pan. She didn't want him to leave. She wanted him in his grasp.

When dad was there, he would block her. My dad has been through a lot; I thought it was because he was in the army as well, but it turns out he wasn't. He's a survivor of life in poverty. Being hit with a charger or a vase was the least of his problems.

So, I told Jericho everything I hadn't already told him. Everything about our parents, why dad needed a green card in the first place.

Well, I told everyone that was in the room at the time.

After that, Phoebe asked if everyone could leave. She had to speak to Jericho, seriously speak to him.

So, we left. I already said my piece. I told him the whole truth, apologized to him for not being there as a sister, and that I loved him a lot.

He needs help, and he will get help by force by fire.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

"Vincent?" I walked into the room, but he wasn't in bed. "Vincent? Are you awake?"

"Yes, I am." Vincent sighed.

"Ok, well, I made you dinner. I hope you like Mac and cheese."

"I'm not hungry." He groaned, walking out of the closet.

I crossed my arms. "Well, too damn bad, I wasted time making Macaroni with Loki."

"Why cook when we could order something?"

My jaw dropped. "Nigga, you were literally complaining about spending money on an eight-dollar meal! How could you be so dumb!"

Vincent chuckled, wrapping his hand around my waist. "Calm down, baby; I'm joking. I'll eat your food, then eat you next."

I pushed him away. "You're a vile, nasty, dirty little boy."

He only chuckled again. "A'roya, you're silly, too fucking silly."

"Shut your trap." I mimicked him, and he slapped my ass.

"Copyrighted words."

"I hate you."

"You love me, and you know it."

I fake a thinking pose. "Do I?"

"Yes, you do end of discussion."

"Ok, ok," I laughed, sitting on his lap. I caressed his face. "Are you well rested? I didn't wake you up so you could sleep for a while."

Vincent smirked. "I'm fine, thanks."

I kissed his cheek. "Could we visit Jericho tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure, take my car. I have to work."

I whined, shaking my head against his chest. "Nooo,"

"Yes, I've missed a lot, but you can still go. I'll pick you up for lunch tomorrow."

I smiled widely. "Another date?!"

Vincent rolled his eyes. "Yes."

"Yay!" I jumped on his lap. "Dates with you are so fun! Cause you're such a goofy goose."

"A'roya." He said sternly.

"Sorry, sir, that was very disrespectful of me," I said, trying to keep my laughter in.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Be serious."

"I am."

"You're not, and you need to be."

"Ok, the attitude needs to go." I frowned.

"There's no attitude."

"Cause it's up your ass."

Vincent sighed, and I laughed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I laughed as he threw me over his shoulder.

"Too late now."