The kid didn’t answer. His eyes were closed again and his arms were still curled around his stomach, hands clenched into fists. Xander repeated the question and waited. He’d give him a few more seconds before he would make the choice for him. He looked around, noting that the wedding party, including the two grooms, were looking their way. Without the truck there, he was sure all they could see was Xander kneeling next to someone lying on the ground. He wasn’t sure what Patrick told them.
“I’m going to pick you up now. I promise, you’re not in trouble and I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to get you inside.” Xander continued to whisper easy words as he stood up and bent to scoop the kid into his arms. He wasn’t a small kid, but it wasn’t much of a struggle to pick him up and carry him bridal style the few yards to where he was living. The guest house was just one floor, where the bathroom with the shower in the main house was up a flight of stairs.
Xander was grateful that he hadn’t locked the door. He knew and trusted everyone at the wedding today so he didn’t see the need for it. The kid shook in his arms the whole walk to the door and inside. Xander moved to the bedroom, not sure where elseto go or exactly what he was doing. His training was telling him that he should give the kid a good once over, check his vitals, ensure there was no possible internal bleeding or broken ribs. But the other side of his brain was just blind rage.
How could anyone do this to another human.
“Please,” the kid said as he opened his eyes. He started to struggle a bit and Xander had to tighten his grip to keep from dropping him. “No, please. I’m sorry. Don’t take me to the bathroom again. I’m sorry. Dad, please.”
Xander could feel tears on his own cheeks as the kid fought him but he didn’t let him go. He thought he was back home and Xander didn’t want him running around blindly. Not when he was hurt this bad. He tried to console him, to get him to calm down, but it wasn’t working. His chest was rising and falling fast, air wheezing out of his lungs. That wasn’t a good sign. He was either going into shock or having a panic attack. He finally made it to the bedroom and laid him down on the bed. Quickly, he ran to his closet and grabbed his medical bag. Out of habit, he kept one on hand. It worked for living on a ranch. He pulled the generic inhaler out and moved back to the bed.
He knelt down beside it, the kid immediately rolling away onto his right side. His back to Xander. “Darlin’, I need you to look at me. I promise, no one is going to hurt you again. I’ll make sure of it.”
There was no response from the kid. Xander didn’t want to leave him alone. He really wanted to check him over, to know the full extent of what they were dealing with. He wasn’t going to make him do anything he didn’t want to. That would just leave scars on the inside.
“I’m going to leave this on the bedside table,” Xander said. “There’s a shower behind you, towels, and everything you need in there. I’ll lay out a shirt for you and see if I can find some pants that will fit. I’ll leave water and a sandwich out on thekitchen counter too if you get hungry. Do you need anything else?”
Xander waited for a few seconds. He stood up and started to move toward his dresser. The room wasn’t much. A king size bed with a gray comforter and three plain pillows. The bed frame and dresser were a matching distressed wood color. A mirror sat on top of the dresser, large enough that Xander could see the kid roll over while he grabbed a shirt. He saw his face for the briefest of moments before the kid buried his head into the pillows again. Xander could hear the sniffling and choked sobs.
He watched him for a few more seconds, debating if he should pull the cover over him. The bed wasn’t made, he rarely made it in the last few months of living back on the ranch. There was no reason to when he was the only one sleeping in it. He’d have to wash the blanket and sheets soon, sure that there would be dirt and gravel.
“I’m sorry.” The voice was low and Xander turned from the door, his hand on the handle to give him privacy. “I didn’t mean to do it. I want to change. I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
Xander wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Did he still think he was his dad? Or was he trying to say something else? Xander dropped his hand from the knob and moved slowly back to the bed. At least the kid was talking. That had to be a good sign, even if he didn’t understand it.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Xander said. He sat at the foot of the bed, away from where he was lying. His back was turned to him, but he noted he looked a little more relaxed. Hopefully, at least. “We just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I deserved it,” the kid said. His voice was wavering, like talking was causing him pain. “I- I shouldn’t have been watching those videos. They’re wrong. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Xander didn’t know what to do. He reached a hand out and gently brushed his finger against thekid’s ankle. He was wearing an old pair of shoes that looked a size too small and shorts that had a hole beside the pocket. “Can you look at me?”
The kid jerked his leg away and then cried out in pain at the sudden movement. Xander was up on his feet immediately. His hands were hovering, unsure of where to look or what to do. He moved to the other side of the bed so he could see the kid’s face. More tears were pooling in his eyes. His bottom lip was bitten raw. The handprint on his cheek was more prominent in the bedroom lighting.
“I need to look at you,” Xander said. He tried to keep his voice calm and soothing, but he wasn’t going to take no for an answer anymore. He had to see. His medical brain was reeling with all the possibilities of what could be going on. “Please, darlin’. Let me just see what that asshole did to you.”
He knew using words like that probably wasn’t best for the situation at hand, but he had no other name for the man that did this. Actually, he had a lot but they all got increasingly worse.
The kid rolled to his back, his face wincing with pain. The cut on his eye was beading with fresh blood but his nose had stopped. He looked so small and helpless in the large bed. Xander had the urge to forego examining him to just hold him and protect him for a while. Shield him from everything. He’d seen so many trauma and abuse cases in the Emergency Room and on calls, but something about this kid was pulling at him. Maybe it was seeing the abuse firsthand, the way the man so easily discarded him. No one should feel like they were worthless.
“Can I touch you?” Xander asked. “Just on your arms and chest. I want to make sure you’re okay.” The kid moved his head to face away, but there was a small nod. Xander moved slowly, giving the kid plenty of time to change his mind. He decided to talk, to hopefully keep the kid distracted. “My nameis Alexander. Everyone calls me Xander, or X, for short. My brother, Patrick, and his wife Tracy, own this ranch. They’re great people.”
“Are they going to hurt me too?” The kid winced as Xander’s fingers prodded on his right side. He knew he had a large bruise on his left side. He lifted his shirt and noted a red splotchy patch just above his hip. Probably hit it on something or got hit. As bad as it looked, he was grateful it didn’t seem like anything deep.
“No,” Xander said quickly. “No one is going to hurt you here. I promise you that.”
“I’ve heard stories,” the kid said. Xander needed to stop thinking of him as ‘the kid’. He was a little on the smaller side but had to be over eighteen. “Of places like this. You can’t promise I won’t be hurt.”
Xander lifted his shirt more, bunching it up around his armpits. He’d prefer to take it off completely but wasn’t sure if that would be beneficial enough for the pain it would cause him. The bruise he’d seen earlier was the worst of his injuries. That he saw at least. It spread from his sternum, diagonally down and wrapped around toward his back. Xander saw red when he realized it was in the perfect shape of a boot print.
His words finally sank in and Xander let his hands fall to his own lap. The kid’s eyes were closed and his head was tilted away from Xander. His hands were balled into fists, his knees bent slightly. “This is not a conversion camp, sweetheart. It’s a refuge for the gay community.” It was for the whole LGBTQ+ community, but Xander was keeping his explanation simple right now.
“And I’m Leonardo DiCaprio.” The kid said it so dejectedly, Xander couldn’t even find the joke funny. “My dad would never drop me off at a refuge. He was screaming the whole way here about conversion and fixing me. I didn’t catch it all, but I’ve read the stories. I know what these places are.”
“And I’m telling you that this isn’t that place,” Xander said. He lowered his shirt back down over his stomach and reached up to brush the hair out of his face. The kid finally turned slightly to look at him. His face was battered, but he held Xander’s eyes. Xander brushed his fingers just above the cut over his eye. The kid’s eyes fluttered closed for a second before opening back up when Xander pulled his hand away. “You are safe here. If it helps, I’m gay. I had a boyfriend in the city for a couple years before we broke up. There is a wedding going on outside for two men as well. One of them is the guy that founded the Found Family Ranch. I don’t know how your dad found this place or why he thought it would be a camp, but I can assure you we are far from it. We’ve been helping kids and adults alike to get back on their feet after leaving families or whatever situations.”
The room fell silent again. The kid closed his eyes, but kept his face turned toward Xander. He smiled, grateful that he might actually be believing him now. Knowing that he was in a safe place would be important to keep him calm. “I hate to ask this,” Xander started. He waited until his eyes were open again. They were light brown, still hints of that honey color in them. The one that was swollen was red and looked like it hurt bad. “But can you tell me if there was anything, any damage or hits, done below your waist?”
Xander didn’t want to think of this kid going through anything like that, but it wasn’t unheard of. He’d seen his dad kick him against his lower back and he wanted to check that out too. That was a sensitive area to receive any form of trauma.
