I'm Anything You Want Me To Be.

I don't even register in my head that it was a scream of pain and fear because I have to stop Jay from following John when he shoots up off the couch.

John disappears into the bunk area and I'm left struggling to keep Jay's wrist in my hand.

Jared and Garrett and Dani are sitting there, not doing anything. But they're scared.

I should be too, but I'm not letting Jay see whatever it is that made Kennedy scream like that.

"Kenny, what the fuck did you do?!" John yells.

"I don't know, John! I don't know!" Kennedy cries back.

I'm so confused that I actually let go of Jay, and he runs to where John went.

"Shouldn't you," I gulp. "Shouldn't you guys do something?" I ask Jared and Garrett.

They both shake their heads.

I can't stand the thought of anyone in pain. I just can't. And I can't let Jay see it. I stand up, sure enough causing Jared and Garrett to stand up too. I don't mind them as I head to the bunk area.

I see Jay staring at Kennedy. It's just Jay I look at first, then I see that he's starting to cry. The moment I open my mouth to say his name, he runs away.

I look at John, who can't stand to look at Kennedy now. So I look at Kennedy. And now I know what Jay ran from.

There's blood trickling out of a small gush on Kennedy's forearm, and he has a knife in one of his hands.

I instinctively run to one of the cabinets where I think a first-aid kit would be placed, and I'm glad I find it there. When I get back, Garrett and Jared make space for me, and John backs away from Kennedy.

The first thing I do is take the knife away from Kennedy. He's trembling so hard, I don't understand. If he did this to himself, then what's he worked up about? "You okay, Kennedy?" I ask softly.

He shakes his head, and I see tears in his eyes.

"I've got you." I whisper. "Cooperate, okay?"

Then he slightly nods.

As I take time to nurse his cut, he says "Thanks. Blood terrifies John."

"Hmm? Now I see where Jay gets it," I mumble under my breath. If John really is Jay's--Fuck! I can't believe I just verbalized a thought like that! And in front of Kennedy, too. All I can do now is hope that he doesn't make anything out of it.

But then I'm giving myself false hopes. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," I mutter. "I said I'm almost done."

"No, you said--"

"I didn't say anything, Kennedy." I'm now sounding defensive. Shit.

"No, Iann, I heard--"

"Is.. Is there still blood? I need to talk to Kennedy," John peeks through the doorway.

"No more blood," I tell him. "Come on." I wave him over.

"Oh, fuck, yes." John trots to Kennedy. He sits next to him and rests his forehead on his shoulder. "Don't fucking do that, Kenny,"

"John," Kennedy turns to him when John inches away.

"I mean it." John straightens himself up. "I called Jess and told her--"

"You what?!"

"I told her."

"But John!"

"But Kenny!" John mocks. "She told me to watch you the next time you drink."

"I didn't even drink a lot," Kennedy looks away from John.

"And I know for a fact you're not on any sort of drug." John says. He doesn't need to elaborate, the worry on his face explains enough that he has no idea what's going on with Kennedy.

Kennedy sighs, the tears still in his eyes. "John, I'm sorry."

John nods. "I'll.. I'll be outside again." Then he walks away.

Kennedy looks at me. "He thinks I need help."

"What?" I fix up the bandage. "Help?"

"Professional help. He thinks I need to start seeing a therapist."

Therapy. I know what it feels like.

And the moment I look into those tear-filled hazel eyes, I am sure that he doesn't need professional help. He doesn't need therapy. He's just lost, confused. Maybe a bit lonely. I would know. I've been through this.

"You know, Kennedy," I start. "I.. I know what therapy feels like.. It.. It's not nice.. I don't want you to go through therapy. If you need anyone to talk to, I'm here for you." I blurt out before I can stop myself.

He smiles at me. "I'll keep that in mind."

It turns out they don't have a show today. John's spending the entire day playing with Jay, and the rest of the boys are busy with their own tasks.

Soon enough, everyone's in bed. I'm in the front lounge, coaxing Jay to sleep. He finally falls to slumber and I let him pillow his head on my lap.

This is when the door slides open and Kennedy appears. He looks like he's been running, with his short breaths and the sweat breaking out of his face, but I know better. "Shit, Iann, are you real?"

"What?"

"Am I dreaming? Tell me I'm not.."

"You just woke up, I'm guessing." I say. I decide to eye him from head to toe when my eyes are forced to stop at his forearm which is bleeding again. "Kennedy, what did you do?!"

He follows my gaze and realizes his cut's opened again and blood is now blotting his bandage. "Oh no," He shakes his head and leans back on the wall. He's starting to slide down. He's going to break down, I know it. I've broken down so many times before, and I can't watch someone else do it.

I bolt to him after making Jay shift and hold his face in my hands. "No, Kennedy, don't cry. Don't cry, we're gonna fix it."

Kennedy's trembling hard again.

I get him to the sink and take his soiled bandage off and wash his wound. "Kennedy,"

"John's right, Iann, I need help.." Kennedy whispers.

"You don't." I tell him as I start putting on a fresh bandage. "I swear, Kennedy, you don't need therapy. You just need to talk this out."

He's in so much pain, his tears aren't second-guessing, second-thinking things.

I hate this, seeing him in pain. I'm so desperate in making him stop, trying to revert the pain away, and the best I can do is try to talk about myself. "Kennedy, let me tell you a secret." I say in a whisper.

"What?" he whispers back.

"About.. Three years ago.. I was in therapy. They thought I was mentally retarded. They thought I was insane. But Kennedy, let me tell you something I've never told anyone. Ever." I take a deep breath. "I wasn't insane, Kennedy, I was pregnant."

"With Jay?"

"With Jay." I confirm. "I know you're not stupid enough to actually believe that he's my little brother, but if Pat thinks so, then let it be for a while.. Yeah, I was pregnant with Jay.. Nick? He thought I was deranged, and the first time he left for tour, he left me with a therapist."

"And?" He asks me to continue curiously.

"Well, my first three months with Jay was spent on therapy. Therapy I didn't need." I say. "I found out I was pregnant three weeks into it, and I told Nick, and he came back a couple of months later to stop the therapy."

He tilts his head at me.

I realize we're both seated on the floor now, but I don't mind. "I wasn't insane, Kennedy. I was depressed. Because Dani left me for college. The night she left, I ended up at some party, got drunk, then the big ol' V Card expired. Nick took me home, thought I was insane, then.. Then therapy."

"I didn't know that,"

"No one does. Except Nick. And I never dare talk about it." I say. I want to add that I'm doing this all for him, getting personal, because I don't want to see him in pain, but I don't. "So.. I wasn't insane, I was depressed and pregnant. Talk about shit."

"So.. If I'm not insane, what am I?"

"That's up to you to show and me to find out, I guess. I can help you." I say.

"What's therapy like, Iann?" Kennedy asks me.

"It makes people who don't need it.. Need it.. If that makes sense." I say the first thing that comes into mind.

"I understand that," he says. "Elaborate?" He suggests.

I nod. "Well.. Since I didn't need therapy, I was fully aware of what they were doing to me. Since I wasn't insane.. They seemed pretty dedicated about driving me to insanity."

He looks down. "I don't want that,"

"You don't need that, Kennedy." I say. "They're gonna make you need it." I try to stop the anger that's overwhelming me at the thought of how fucked the thought of me in therapy is. And I do stop it, but the most I can do to release it is get up and back away from Kennedy. I sit on a couch and shake my head.

He follows me and is now sitting next to me. "Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?" I'm suddenly curious.

"Get all personal with me." he mumbles exactly what I have been doing.

I find myself shaking my head, refusing to tell him it was all the help I could give him. I mean, he has stopped crying, and he is now calming down. It's just his short breaths. I reach out to him and rub him behind his ear. It works for me, maybe it works for him too.

He sighs and closes his eyes. "That feels nice,"

"One thing I thank therapy for." I laugh. "They taught me this."

He nods slightly.

I feel his breaths taking direction to calm themselves, and I start pulling my hand away when Kennedy stops me by holding onto my wrist.

"Don't stop,"

I scratch the back of my head. "You're fine."

He opens his eyes again and watches me retract my hand. "Thank you."

"No problem." I say with the most sincerity I can verbalize.

"My sanity means so much to John." he says. "It's as if my sanity is his."

"Friends look out for each other like that.." I say. "Best friends."

"He worries about me too much, it just scares me."

"What else scares you?"

"There is a long," He pauses. "A very, very long list of things that scare me."

I look at the wall clock. It's an exact minute past twelve in the midnight. "I think we have time."