Lisa changed quickly into her stripy pyjamas. It was Greg's father's first day back from Pakistan, and she was half expecting the gangly teenager to turn up. He almost always did, when his father came home. She loosened her hair from its ponytail and ran her brush through it. Sure enough, just before she turned off her light, she heard a tap at her window. The boy outside was wrapped in the darkness, standing in the shadow of the house. She flung open the window, and Greg clambered easily up the drainpipe and collapsed onto her bedroom floor. He had come so many times in his old leather jacket and dark blue jeans, his white t-shirt gleaming and contrasting with his black leathers. Lisa took in his brown curly hair and bright blue eyes with wonder and affection before she saw the blood dripping from his nose.

"Hey Lise" Greg muttered through a mouthful of blood.

"Greg, what the hell! Here, take a tissue" Lisa handed him a handful of tissues and went downstairs for a bag of peas. When she came back, Greg was sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Why stay home when I can sleep here?" he said, trying hard to make light of the situation.

"Greg- you have to tell someone, get some help"

"I don't need help. If I stayed at home, I wouldn't be able to bother you"

"You can always bother me" she whispered, handing him the bag of peas. He leaned his head back against the wall and balanced the bag on his nose, holding a tissue to stem the flow of blood.

"I didn't even do anything wrong" he whispered, dejectedly

"You never do"

"No. Sometimes I'm late for curfew, or my GPA drops, or I do something to upset him. This was just because he was angry at the army. They sent him home before his shift was up"

"Why?"

"He hit a soldier. On our side"

"Surely they'll take notice now?"

"Why should they? I'm just a kid, Lise, they don't care"

"I care" she whispered.

"I know" he whispered back. Lisa sat down next to him and pulled the blanket around them both. She put her head on his chest and curled up.

"Did he just hit you once? Or is there any more?"

"I'll have some bruises in the morning, on my face" he said quietly. She reached up and caressed his cheek. "Lisa, can you feel my hand? It's numb" he said, matter of fact. Lisa took his hand in hers and felt the heat radiating from it. She sat up to look at it better. She could see the fractures on his fingers, the blood blisters on the back of his hand and the large burn on his palm.

"Holy shit" she whispered, feeling like crying. His beautiful hand was mutilated beyond what she had ever seen. Greg's father always liked to aim at his face, legs and hands, the things he valued most. His good looks, his sport and his piano player's fingers.

"Is it bad?" he whimpered as she ran her fingers around the burn.

"What did he do to you?"

"He stamped on it, and held it against the stove. It really hurts, Lise" he sounded so vulnerable, so hurt that Lisa put her arms around him, and she felt him shudder with suppressed tears.

"Greg, you can't go back. You have to tell someone"

"I told you"

"I'm not enough. I can't help you, not really"

"You're helping me now"

"But I can't prevent it"

"No one can"

"The government, they can have you taken away"

"Lisa, my dad is really high up in the military, you know that. They wouldn't listen to me"

"But they might, and then you could go live somewhere else. Be safe"

"Away from my mom. Away from Wilson. Away from you"

"I'd come visit, we all would"

"I'd rather stay" Greg said, and Lisa sighed. He wanted them more than he wanted safety. It wasn't fair. He was just a kid, really. Just fifteen.

"But-"

"No. Stop. I just want to sleep"

"Okay. Lie down. I'll give you a back rub, okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Lise" he said, relaxing. Lisa pulled up his t-shirt and sighed at the pattern of bruises, cuts, scars and burns across his back. She rubbed gently, kneading her knuckles into the unbruised parts of his flesh. He started breathing deeper as he dozed off, and after about fifteen minutes, she lay down beside him and gathered him up in her arms. They slept, and didn't worry. Until he awoke screaming in nightmares like he did every time he came knocking at her window.