Juliana's POV

"And then, we finished watching the new Percy Jackson shows. There's two already released. I can't wait for the others..."

All I hear is a voice, rambling on and on and on. Half of the time I can't understand what it's saying.

I think it read me a story, now it's talking about a show.

"I haven't ever actually read the books, but so far my favourite character is Luke. He's been so nice and welcoming to Percy. He seems trustworthy."

Everything is really dark. Sounds keep drifting in and out. I feel so light.

But slowly an ache begins to form.

It's not just one area of my body like earlier either. My head feels like it's been slammed into a wall, my throat dunked in fire.

My chest hurts, something is tickling my nose and the back of my throat. It's like when you have a small piece of food stuck. But it's not enough to cause you to gag, just enough to be an annoyance.

My left leg feels stuck, and there's a lot of pain on my right side focused right below my neck.

My back and stomach hurt, and I was really wishing to go back into that oh-so-comfortable unconscious state.

But that didn't happen.

Instead, I stayed stuck. I listened to the incessant ramblings of the voice. Scarcely did I actually understand what it said, but it did lull me into relaxing.

The more relaxed I allowed myself to become, the more in control I felt.

It's like my mind was reconnecting to my body. First I started breathing more manually, then I started trying to move my toes and fingers, only to find that the only thing I could move was my right leg and left fingers.

I could feel my left leg, but I couldn't move it. And wiggling my fingers hurt too much. Finally, after waiting for who knows how long, I was able to flutter my eyelids.

The voice kept rambling, and I finally started fighting for control. I took one last deep breath, before prying the bricks off my eyelids.

Opening my eyes was weird. My ears ring and everything was extremely bright. Too bright for my liking.

I let out a little groan which my throat did not appreciate, closing my eyes before they even had the chance to fully open.

The voice stopped, and I heard someone ask,

"Julie?"

The voice repeated my name, but I didn't want to open my eyes to that torturous light again. Eventually the voice left. I heard a door slam.

At least, I can only assume it was a door. Minutes pass, and slowly by surely I gain control over all my major limbs.

I open my eyes, anticipating the burn of the light. I'm able to keep them pried open long enough for them to adjust.

I see a lot of white. And windows. And machines.

I turn my head left to right, looking at my surroundings.

I'm in a surprisingly comfy bed, with rails along the sides containing buttons that I can only assume control the bed.

Surrounding my bed on the right side were all types of machines. They all had a bunch of numbers and symbols, some of which I actually understood thanks to my electives at school.

"Juliana?"

My head snaps to the left, and I see the door I had failed to notice earlier was now open.

"Hey there little lady."

Uncle Stefano is standing in the doorway, and I just about flinch when I see his face.

He's very solemn. His eyes are rimmed red, like he's either been crying or hasn't slept. Or both.

Something in his expression broke my heart, and I wanted to forever erase that look from his face.

Uncle Stefano smiled at me sadly and took a step into the room, closing the door gently behind him.

The room goes silent, the noises from the hallway cut off. Uncle Stefano walks into the room, crouching down next to my bed.

"You gave us quite a scare, you know that?" He spoke quietly, moving a stray strand of hair out of my eyes.

I open my mouth to try and say something. Ask what happened, why he's here, why I'm here. But nothing comes out.

"Give it a second. I'm gonna get you some water." He says, standing up. I watched as he walked over to a table holding a tray with a few paper cups on it.

Like the disposable ones you'd get at a hotel. The only sounds in the room was the quiet thump of his shoes with every step he took.

Uncle Stefano walks over to the door, and then reaches somewhere I can't see, but from the sound of the water running I can guess that there's a sink there.

As he does so, the door opens to reveal Elijah in a white doctor's coat.

He turns to his dad, and the two of them huddle together for a moment before he continues to me.

"Just a second Julie. Stay still for me please." He says when he notices me try to move.

"You want to sit up?" He presses one of the buttons on the side of the rails I had noticed earlier. Like I thought, they did control the bed.

It took forever for me to finally get propped up, and it was kind of awkward as we waited for the bed to slowly creep up to where I wanted it.

After that, he snuck one hand behind my back and one under my thighs, gently pulling me higher up on the bed.

"You good?" He asks and I nod in thanks. Uncle Stefano hands me a glass from behind Elijah.

I went to grab it, being right handed I reached with my right arm and immediately regretted it. Elijah catches the moment pretty quickly, grabbing my arm and forcing it back down before I did too much damage, but the pain had definitely set in.

My collarbone was on fire. Like someone had just dropped lit liquid gasoline atop my bone. I gasp, leaning my head back and squeezing my eyes shut. My left hand went to uselessly hover over my shoulder, like that would do anything.

"You need to be careful Juliana." Elijah scolded and I heard what sounded like Uncle Stefano smacking the back of his head while calling him an idiota.

"She doesn't know what injuries she has, dumbass." He rolls his eyes and Elijah makes a face at him.

Uncle Stefano holds the water for me while I take small sips. It burns, but the water helps to soothe it.

"Why are you guys in New York?" I croak out once I'm done with the water.

They share a look, turning back to me with reluctance. For some reason, this isn't a conversation that they want to start.

"We're not in New York anymore. You're at one of our Children's Hospitals in Sicily." Elijah explains, and I furrow my eyebrows.

"Isn't Sicily in Italy?" I ask, feeling stupid.

"Yes. Nice Geography." Elijah remarks sarcastically.

I ignore him and simply ask my next question.

"But why?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" Elijah asks, and Uncle Stefano just watches me with concern.

"I... I don't really know. Everything is just one big blur. I remember getting yelled at. I was late for something, I think." Elijah just nods, and starts writing something down on an ipod.

Don't ask me where that came from, but it feels fitting.

"Okay, well we did already want to test you for a concussion. Small bouts of amnesia are perfectly normal if that's the case." Elijah taps the iPad just a few more times before he finally looks back to me.

"From what we've been able to gather, you had a fracture to your left tibia. A break to your right collarbone, and we're still waiting for confirmation on your wrist. And your ribs still need to be X-rayed, but they aren't looking good." Elijah read from his fancy-pantsy iPad.

"We're going to schedule a CT, and MRI for sometime tomorrow, preferably. If not tonight. We want to do a stress test on your heart along with an EKG. We may be able to do the EKG today."

"Elijah," I try to interrupt, but I don't think he even hears me.

"Once we can get your oxygen levels back to normal, on their own, we need to do a spirometry test." He keeps droning on and on, using words well out of my vocabulary.

"Elijah!" I yell, thoroughly pissing my throat off to no extent. His gaze connects with my wide eyes, and he freezes.

"Elijah, you're overwhelming her. Shut it." Uncle Stefano calls from the other side of the room.

He's rummaging through a cabinet I hadn't taken an interest in before. Elijah takes a breath, nodding slowly.

Elijah sets down the IPad at the end of the bed, not the smartest idea on his end if you were to ask me. Uncle Stefano comes to sit on the edge of the bed, facing me.

"Alright little lady. I know, this is a lot, all at once. Your leg, your collarbone, your wrist and your ribs got a little messed up. We're planning on doing a few more tests later on that will help us understand the full extent of those injuries. Are you keeping up with me so far?" He asks, and I nod my head.

"Good. We're also going to do a bit of testing on your heart and lungs, because we saw something concerning. I'm not here to tell you that it will be pleasant, but it's necessary. "I'm also going to prepare you for the possibility that we might have to do a magnitude of different tests. Problems that we hoped were only caused because of the pneumonia seem to still be there, which means it wasn't the pneumonia after all."

I take a deep breath, which is actually a little painful, and scrunch my nose up when I am once again reminded of the tickling sensation in my nostrils and the food in the back of my throat.

"That bugs you huh?" Uncle Stefano asks, cracking a small smile.

I give him a bit of a glare. It's not amusing, don't be smiling at me. I'm hurt, remember?

"Right now, you have a nasal cannula in. Your oxygen levels are not anywhere near what they should be. Look over there." He points to one of the machines.

This just so happens to be one of the ones that I think I might know what it means. And if that's true, then the numbers on there are more than concerning.

"That 86 up there in red is your current oxygen level. The least we want you to be is about 92, without the extra help." I nod my head in understanding, and Uncle Stefano takes that as a sign to keep going.

"If you feel a little tickle in the back of your throat," Excuse you, little? " Then that's a feeding tube. You are extremely malnourished, and right now that's giving you back some of your missed nutrients and vitamins.

"Along with that, you will not be leaving this hospital until you've been given a full mental evaluation." Uncle Stefano's tone turns sterner, his expression hardening.

"I'm sorry, that's just the way it has to be. We need to know you're safe physically, and mentally." He interjected when I opened my mouth to complain.

I clamp my mouth shut because what can I say? He just laid down the law, and it is within his full right to keep me here for as long as he deems necessary.

Either that or lock me up in a loony bin.

"You never answered my question." Uncle Stefano furrowed his eyebrows, looking back to Elijah as if to ask if he's hearing me correct.

I swallow painfully, shaking my head.

"I asked why we're here. In a hospital in Italy. Last I checked, I was in New York. Roughly four thousand miles away from here." I explained, though it was a struggle to talk.

Not only did my throat burn, but my voice was really strained. Think... Katniss Everdeen after Peeta the Mutt attacked her.

Elijah sighs, rounding the bed and sitting on a chair to my right. "We might as well tell her, she's persistent when she wants something."

Uncle Stefano sucks in a deep breath, giving me that look again.

Oh come on, please please stop giving me that look. I hate it.

As if hearing my thoughts, he shifts his gaze to his phone, which he just pulled out of his pocket.

"The last thing you remember is getting yelled at and sent back to your room at dinner, correct?" Elijah asks, and I nod distractedly, more concerned at trying to peek at Uncle Stefano's phone.

Not even realizing that I never told him about dinner.

"Juliana, are you sure? You're sure that's all you remember?" Elijah pressed, and this time I looked at him.

Did I literally not just say that?

"Yes, Elijah. That's all I remember."

"It's okay if it's not. You won't be in trouble." Uncle Stefano reassured me, his phone forgotten.

"Wait what? Is there a reason for me to be in trouble? Am I in trouble?" I ask, worried, because to my knowledge I hadn't done anything worthy of a punishment.

I've been good.

"No, Juliana, that's not what we're saying." Uncle Stefano tried again, sounding a little put out this time.

"We're just saying that if you hadn't felt comfortable sharing the full extent of your pre existing memories, then we wouldn't be mad." Elijah explained, though the tone of voice he used still sounded a little accusatory.

"Or if you suddenly happened to remember something." Uncle Stefano piped in.

My eyes fluttered back and forth between the two so quickly they would have gotten whiplash if that was possible.

I suddenly felt uncomfortable under their gazes, their scrutiny. My chest got tighter, and the silence had never felt so loud.

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, not sure how to proceed.

While their words tried to deceive me, I still felt that if I told them that I truly didn't remember anything they would think I was lying and punish me.

And I'm already in enough of a helpless position, if you hadn't noticed.

But what else could I tell them? The way they're looking at me so expectantly is leading me to believe that they know something I don't.

If I make up a lie then they're going to be able to tell instantly.

"I... I want Elliot." I mumble, and the both of them seem to almost deflate.

They take another short glance at each other, reading the other's mind, before they let out a collecting sigh.

"He's not here. We forced him to go home and get some sleep. Your options are Massimo or Zio Lorenzo." Elijah listed my options, sounding almost defeated.

Still, I nodded my head vigorously, telling him that I wanted Massimo.

When they did finally come in, it was unlike how Uncle Stefano and Elijah were.

They simply barged in and immediately started fussing over me. Massimo first, with Uncle Lorenzo close behind.

"Quite the scare you gave us you dramatic little butt. I mean, I know you like my attention but you didn't have to die to get it." Massimo scoffed as he gently plopped himself behind me, softly manhandling me into a more comfortable position.

Now my back was to his chest and he had his arms loosely around me so as to not mess with any wires. I heard him let out a relieved sigh, resting his noggin against the top of my head.

"You know me. Besides, who doesn't need a little flare in their lives." I joke, noticing how my voice was getting more and more hoarse the more I talked. Elijah was the one to get up and grab me some more water while Uncle Lorenzo stole his spot.

He dropped down dramatically, complaining about how he was getting more grey hairs from me than all four of his children combined had ever caused him.

I hear Elijah snort from near the sink, which causes me to glance over and look at him, only to see Zeke standing in the doorway, staring at me.

His eyes hold a magnitude of emotions. He looks lost. Horrified. Shocked. Sad.

I hold my good hand out towards him and he hesitates for another second. I can practically feel the weight of all the eyes on both him and I, but I don't divert my attention.

He takes a tentative step forward, then another and another until he's close enough to grasp my hand. He gives it a slight squeeze and I give him the best smile I can.

He stands there, holding my hand until I have to let go when Elijah gets back with my water. Using my good arm I'm able to gulp down the entire thing pretty quickly. Elijah, sceptical as ever, keeps his hand under the cup in case I drop it.

I hand it back to him when I'm done, mumbling a thank you. Just because I'm upset doesn't mean I don't have good manners.

It only takes a couple more minutes for everyone to get settled down, and that's when the atmosphere turns serious. Not that it hadn't been before, but this seriousness dumped an entire truckload of heaviness across the entire group.

"So..." I trail off, glancing around the room at everyone.

"By the time that we got the call, we had landed in New York. We were coming to get you and your brothers." Uncle Lorenzo admits, and I look around the room, confused.

"Would anybody like to add some context to that please?" I ask, but no one looks very willing to say anything.

"What they mean to say is that you weren't safe. We were coming to remove you and your siblings before it could escalate. Obviously, time did not work out in our favor." Grandpa says, walking into the room with a train of adults following behind him.

And by 'train of adults' I mean Nonna and Elliot. "Again. Not. Helping." I enunciate, too agitated to give a fuck if I'm being rude or not.

"Alright. We found you dead on the bathroom floor. Any clearer, my dear?" He asks, and I gawf. I hear cursing, and just about everyone in the room groans.

"Alright, alright. Don't even say anything. Let me start from the beginning-" Massimo tries, but he gets interpreted.

"Jameson isn't your brother." Elliot blurts.

62 Hours Prior

"Well now you've done it. If you were just going to end up a whore I could have made some decent money off you." Jameson griped as he turned the showerhead on.

The door had been locked, Mystery Guard thrown out, though right now he was the least of my worries.

"That's not what was happening, I promis-" I gasp, unable to finish the sentence as the ice cold water is directed straight onto my head.

I let out a choked huff, wrapping myself around my body, trying to make myself as small as possible in order to save some part of me from the ice cold shock of the water.

I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping that this would be it. I know it wouldn't be though. This would be a small tap on the wrist compared to just about anything he's ever done to me.

I stay as still as possible. Maybe if he sees compliance he'll calm the fuck down before it gets too awful. What I failed to notice was the stopper was pushed into the bottom of the tub.

It didn't resonate with me that the water wasn't draining until the water was pooling around my hips.

I shivered, whether from the cold or the thought of what was to come next. Jameson reaches forward, water still directed on the top of my head, and strokes his hand tenderly down the length of my cheek.

"You know I love you. I only do things like this because I love you so much." He murmurs, but I don't react.

His words stopped holding much meaning to me a long time ago.

His hand continues to trail down my jaw, the length of my throat to settle on the nape of my neck. I tense as his hand rests there, slowly adding pressure. So much pressure that I begin to choke. My eyes squeeze shut.

If I can't see it, then that means it's not happening. Right?

When he finally lets go, I cough as the air hits my lungs. I rotated between gagging and coughing as the cold water continued to climb from my hips up to my ribs. I moved so I was sitting straighter, pulling my knees up to my chest protectively.

Jameson turns off the showerhead, and I realise that the water feels warmer. Or am I just colder? He says nothing, barely takes a glance at me before his hand is on my throat, slamming me down onto the tub floor.

I flail on instinct, even though common sense told me that it would only result in me losing air faster because it would crank my heart rate up.

I claw at his west, but he presses down further. He'd gotten smart about this.

After I just started inhaling the water, which actually doesn't hurt, the only good way to describe it was that it felt like a heavier version of air. But after I got smart and just started inhaling, he started choking me so that I could only get small tendrils of water in.

That wasn't near enough to drown me, and it only resulted in my lungs burning more.

I don't get why he would dunk me under the water if he was just going to choke me anyway. Why does he need another element?

I can see his lips moving through the murky water. Which, it's murky thanks to my freaking clothes. My lungs continue to burn as my eyes slowly start rolling towards the back of my head.

It was a very weird feeling, to be completely aware of everything happening painfully slowly. Observing as your own body shut down, being depraved of something so vital to its survival.

And then he pulls me up. I splutter, again caught up in a fit of gagging and coughing. I know he's watching me. I know that if I look over at him right now he'll have a very satisfied look in his eyes. But he's not nearly satisfied.

Before I can even fully catch my breath, he's shoving me under again. It's a little game we play. He'll pull me up right before I lose consciousness, and he surprises me on when he'll push me back under.

Sometimes he'll allow me to watch my breath, sit there for a moment before we repeat the process. Other times, he'll tease me.

Let me up just long enough that I take in barely a breath or two.

I'm not sure how many times we play our game. It's enough that it feels like all the strength has left my body. My hands are above my head, I'm not sure why.

I'm barely aware of him pulling me out of the tub, I do notice the change in texture. The bottom of the tub is real rough, the tile floor is smooth with the occasional groove.

He lets me lay there, and I don't attempt to move. I'm so tired. So freaking tired. But something inside me is screaming to not sleep. As bad as I want to, this sleep feels different.

A hand slams repeatedly into my back. It feels like my lungs are emptying. I'm so out of it I can't think of what it might be.

I feel my arm being pulled, my entire body slumps as the person pulling me is successful in lifting me up. When my feet won't support me, hell, when my eyes won't even open they release their hold, sending me crashing head first into the floor.

I don't feel the pain. Instead I feel almost... high. Everything around me is buzzing, my head is up in the clouds, I'm floating. There is one final thing that I am aware of.

I'm finally falling asleep.