Did We All Fall Down?

*Gerard's POV*

Officer Leslie Brown walked into my hospital room.

"Is it okay if they stay?" I asked quickly.

"Yeah, sure," she nodded.

"Alright. So do you know who did this to you?" She dove into the questions.

"Yeah, I don't know his last name though. My ex-girlfriend showed up this afternoon telling me that her new boyfriend, John, was beating her. I told her to go to the police, but she didn't want to. She left. Later, I heard another knock on the door. I assumed it was her again, so I just opened it. But it was John. He told me not to mess around with Lavender and then he beat the shit out of me." I explained quickly.

"Can you describe him for me?" Officer Brown asked.

"Uh, yeah. White. About six feet tall, I guess. Light brown hair. Brown eyes. That's about it, really."

She nodded. "Do you remember what time it was that he arrived?"

"Um, I think it was nine or so. I wasn't really paying attention. Sorry," I told her.

"No that's fine, you've given me a lot. What is your ex-girlfriend's full name?"

"Lavender Charles."

"Alright, I think that's all for now. Give us a call if you can think of anything else that might help the case." She left the room.

"I can't believe this is happening!" Frank said in shock, "I can't believe you were attacked!" He came over to my bed and grabbed my hand.

"I'm gonna be okay. Really, all I'm worried about now is anyone else getting hurt by John. And what the record label is gonna say when they find out another one of us has landed in the hospital." I said, trying to sound unfazed by everything.

*Lavender's POV*

The policewoman helped me get dressed, I was barely moving, I was in a state of shock. She then escorted me out of the apartment. She walked me to her police car and put me in the front seat, next to her.

"My partners have your attacker. We saw enough to hold him in a cell until charges are filed. I'm gonna take you to the hospital now, okay?" she said gently. I slowly nodded. She started the car up and began to drive to the hospital.

"What's your name?" she asked me as we reached a red light.

"Lavender Charles," I whispered.

"Do you know the man who attacked you, Lavender?"

"Yeah, we're dating. His name is John Mathers. But I didn't want that to happen. It's my fault but I didn't want it to..." I muttered.

"Honey, it's not your fault, it's his, he attacked you. Remember that," she said firmly.

"No, it is. He started slapping me around, like two weeks ago, and I didn't go to the police. If I had he probably wouldn't have come tonight to --" I broke off, not wanting to admit to what happened. That insane logic that grips you after something terrible occurs: "If you say it out loud, it means it really happened" was stopping me from speaking.

"It's okay, we're gonna deal with this," she rubbed my back in soothing circles as she pulled into the hospital parking lot. She walked me inside and spoke to the woman at the emergency desk.

"This woman needs a rape kit. We need to know the extent of the damage as soon as possible."

"Of course. Okay, sweetie, fill out this information for me and then we can get you checked out." the nurse said as she handed me a clipboard with some forms on it. I looked at her name tag; Ana, it was a simple name, pretty. Ana had a kind smile, much like that of the policewoman. I filled out the papers and gave them back to her. A young red-haired nurse walked across the hall.

"Shirley!" Ana called to her. The nurse walked over.

"This woman needs to be examined, she was just attacked." Ana said quietly. Shirley nodded.

"Follow me," she addressed me. I looked back to the police officer that had brought me here.

"Call the station and ask for Rebecca if you need me," she said, smiling. I nodded and followed the nurse down the hall, past the elevator, to exam room 8.

"Okay, change out of everything and into this," she said, handing me a hospital gown.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, and a doctor should be in shortly after that." I nodded as she left the room and quickly changed into the gown.

It felt as though John had shattered me into a million pieces. Broken my pride, dignity, and heart. I looked down the hospital gown at the five long scratches that ran from the top of my chest to my navel. They had started to scab. At the time I hadn't realized just how badly he had cut me. I sat on the exam table and let the tears fall. I made a silent vow never to let a man hurt me that way again. I wiped away my tears and told myself one thing over and over:

He didn't break you, you're not broken. He's going to get what he deserves...