His fight was gone, breathing even, although he still cried. He wasn’t aware of a single thing that was going on around him, and I hated seeing him like this.
I wanted to help him, but how? How could I possibly understand half of what went through hishead? How was I to get through to him so he knew that he was safe here?
“Oh, here. Grabbed this while I was upstairs.” Collin stood, passing me the pacifier.
I dipped my chin, taking it. At least Oakley hadn’t bitten into his own skin this time. He did try to scratch himself, and I had been quick to pin his arms between us, not letting him hurt himself.
“There hasn’t been too many reposts of the alert to take him out for a few days,” he went on. “Although I wouldn’t take him out and about just yet.”
I didn’t have any plans to. Not when he panicked over such little things.
“Once the injection is out of his system, he needs other meds. Daily. Or this will become a habit that isn’t needed.”
What habit? The one where he would willingly be in my lap, or the one where he broke down over whatever he was terrified of?
Either way, I’d take the good old doc’s recommendation and get this boy some sort of help.
“In time, he’ll open up, hopefully.”
“I thought I made some sort of progress today.” I really had. Even after a restless night of sleep for the boy, he seemed more aware of what was going on. He didn’t blanch at the idea of Collin coming by.
Heck, the boy even picked out his own clothes. I hadn’t forgotten the fact that he put on one of my shirts, and I wouldn’t bring it up to him either. I wanted the boy to be comfortable here, in my lap preferably. But I’d take whatever he’d give.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen someone so far gone like him,” Collin mused. “Tormented by his thoughts alone, I mean. I’ve seen and visited severalvictims, mostly to get info on who else I can help track down if they have friends or family that were left in the hands of men. A lot of them were hurt in so many ways, but I think whatever Donny did was worse than any sex trafficker.
“The boy's blood test came back, and he’s been drugged, more than once is my guess. Which could explain some of the things he’s responding to.Monsters,whatever that is to him, is most likely something Donny forced on him. But it could be possible it’s real people, too, who tormented him.”
“He doesn’t seem to have withdrawals,” I didn’t think so anyway.
“That’s good. That’d be easier to deal with than these attacks, but either way, I don’t need to tell you to be there for him. Set boundaries, don’t sugarcoat things, and support his healing. It’ll be a long road to recovery.”
***
Some days just didn’t go as planned.
I had planned to run to the store to buy Oakley more clothes, a new bedding set and maybe some books, but that wasn’t happening now.
Instead, after Collin left, I was sort of trapped on the couch with a very sleepy, clingy boy.
Thankfully, Collin had only given him half a dose of the injection, which was more than enough to settle the boy on my lap. Oakley had taken a small nap, but anytime I moved or tried to get him off my lap, he’d whimper and cling harder.
Not that I was going to complain.
We went from me not able to touch him, to him holding on to me like a lifeline.
It probably wasn’t healthy, but what did I care? Oakley wanted me, and I was going to soak up every minute. Tomorrow, he could easily go back to wanting nothing of me.
I wished I could take away his darkness. I didn’t want Oakley to suffer, but I wasn’t sure how to fix him. What if he wasn’t fixable? What if he’d bounce between being a little, to being a panicked adult, for the rest of his life? Could I handle that?
No, but I’d have to. It didn’t matter what his mental state would be. I was keeping him. I’d show him that I cared. I’d give him every part of me. And I’d expect nothing in return.
Shifting again, my back aching from sitting against the arm of the couch, Oakley whimpered, pressing into me. I wasn’t sure how much closer he could get if I was honest.
His face was pressed into my neck, preventing me from slipping the pacifier into his mouth. I did have his hands pinned still, so he wasn’t able to suck on his already sore thumb. And I think that was part of his problem.
He needed something in his mouth, but he refused to move enough so I could solve that problem. So instead, I gritted my teeth and dealt with the arm of the couch digging into my lower back.
Actually, no. I didn’t have to suffer.
