Ken tried everything to be the perfect son his father wanted. He worked hard to please his father. He remained out of his sight, made dinner, did all the chores. He even stopped talking to his friends and never left the house. So what was he doing wrong?

His father always had a temper. It had gotten worse after the death of his mother a year ago. Ken knew his father was grieving and blamed him for what happened. But why was he always mad when he saw him? Why did his father hit him and locked him up in his room until he was weak from hunger? Why did his father take great joy when he cried and begged for forgiveness?

Wormmon said he hadn't done anything wrong and tried to help him by getting food from the Digital World. But wasn't it his fault? He must have been bad to have his father hate him so much. To have him beat him, lock him up without food, and force himself on him when he was angry.

Ken wondered what he did. What did he do? He had asked that one time, but his father had gotten so angry that he pushed him to the ground, teared the clothing right off his back and entered him deep and hard.

Ken shuddered. That was several hours ago and it still hurt. He tried to move, but the pain stopped him. He stared at the glass door and wondered what it was like outside. It had been a year since he last left the house. It had been a year of no soccer, no school, no friends. He had stopped talking to them three months ago. Though that was because his father cut the cable.

Tears filled his eyes from both the pain and the loneliness. He couldn't really remember what the others sounded like. Did they miss him? Were they trying to call him or find him? Did they even care that he was scared and hurt?

Ken muffled his sobs. He didn't want another lesson in silence. Ken took a shaky breath, hoping Wormmon would come back soon. He was so hungry, so thirsty, and so afraid.

He didn't want to believe his father's words. That it was his fault his mother died. That it was his fault his brother died. That he was a killer. That he killed them both and deserved to be punished. His father said he was being merciful, kind even. But he couldn't help but start to believe them.

It was his fault. He made that stupid wish for his brother to disappear. It was his fault that his mother took the bullet for him when the robber started shooting at the people in the store. It was his fault! His father said it was. He should have died! That bullet was meant for him!

He still remembered the blood and her last breath. He still remembered her words. She wanted him to live. She said it wasn't his fault. She would do anything to protect him. But why would she protect him? He was bad. His father said so and beats him repeatedly because of it.

Then he remembered the words of his mother and friends and then he started to doubt. If he was so important to protect, to save, to befriend, then why was he being treated like a prisoner? Why was his father so mean to him? Was his father supposed to protect him too? Or was he simply unneeded space and worthless as his father said?

Ken closed his eyes against the pain and wished Wormmon was here. He wanted his friend to return, but he knew Wormmon went to get medical supplies and food to help him recover. How long had Wormmon been gone? It might have been only two or three hours; he couldn't remember. But it felt like hours to him; hours of pain and sadness and confusion and doubts.

He wanted Wormmon. He wanted his mother. He wanted his friends. He wanted his best friend. He wanted his boyfriend. He wanted to feel safe again. He wanted to not feel pain. He wanted someone to make this nightmare to go away.

We wanted someone to hold him. To tell him that he was safe and that he wouldn't be hurt again. But that would never happen. His friends didn't know what was happening to him. They didn't know that he was hungry and sore and weak half of the time. They didn't know how scared he was to wake up every morning. They lived across the river. How would they know? He was alone and he was scared.

He sighed in relief when he heard Wormmon's voice. His partner was fully capable of opening the portal on his own. Ken had shown him how a long time ago. But whom was Wormmon talking to? Maybe it was another Digimon. That wasn't too odd. It was the Digital World. It was not like there wasn't any Digimon where the TV was.

Ken took a shuddering breath as the computer glowed. He didn't dare open his eyes, though. He was too tired and drained to open them anyway. Maybe he could rest for a while and try to gain his strength. At least then Wormmon would already be done with patching him up.

"Oh, my god! Ken!" Ken groaned as a familiar voice touched his bare chest. Who is this? This isn't Wormmon. "Ken! Come on, Ken! Wake up, please!" Ken groaned again. He was being too loud. What if his father heard? Didn't this person know he was not allowed to be here? Did this person want him to get hurt even more?

"Takeru and the others have been worried about you. Please wake up!" A different voice cut through the dark fog in his brain. This one sounded like a Digimon. Was that Patamon? Why was he here? And did he say that the others were worried? They were worried about me?

"Ken?" Wormmon spoke in a softer voice. "I know you feel weak and drained right now. But Takeru and Patamon are here to help you. We're going to take you to safety. Please wake up. Please do it...for me."

Takeru and Patamon? Ken allowed those names to sink in as he finally recalled the names. Wormmon went to get his boyfriend? How in the DigiWorld did he manage to do that? There were a million TVs in the Digital World. How did he know which one?

Despite the questions in his head, Ken couldn't help but feel ashamed. Takeru had to come and rescue him and see him in such a weak state. He had to see his battered and bruised body that was littered with both external and internal injuries. Along with the shame he felt, he also felt happy. Someone had come for him. He was finally not going to be hurt again. His boyfriend was going to help him.

With a weak groan, Ken slowly opened his eyes. It took all of his strength not to close them in exhaustion. Once his eyes were open, Ken saw a blurry figure with blond hair above him. The figure kept coaxing him to wake up until he finally did. When his vision cleared Ken saw Takeru looking at him in worry.