Fics like we can't say what we've seen (and we're not little children)

Erica can still feel his hands on her where he'd grabbed her, she doesn't know what to do about it, who to speak to. Everyone seems so okay with everything, like they can't even remember what happened. Steve has those scars, those memories printed on his skin, and he seems perfectly fine. Erica should be fine too, she's not a kid any more, and she doesn't even have scars. Erica doesn’t know what to do. If she talks to Lucas, he’ll start acting like she’s a kid again and she’s not, she’s older now than when Lucas got involved. She’s old enough not to need help and she’s not going to ask just because she’s a girl and can’t deal with it. Lucas dealt with it, she’ll deal with it. So she’s just going to watch. Watch Max who almost died but seems fine. Lucas who fought Jason and seems fine. Pretends she doesn’t feel the phantom, nameless hands grabbing her, doesn’t feel the short blades of grass under her fingers as she scrabbled, feel his hot breath on the back of her neck like she was prey. Pretends there’s none of that, because it shouldn’t matter. She’s Erica Sinclair — can’t spell America without Erica — and she’s going to be just fine.

Fics like we can't say what we've seen (and we're not little children)

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