Dan was huddled in the corner, with silent tears running down his face. He had been there

for a few hours, and did not seem to want to move.

Phil knocked on the door, cheerily saying 'Hi, I'm home'. He had been shopping, and was

lumbering into the kitchen, where Dan was crouched.

As soon as he saw him, he dropped the bags and ran over. The eggs and milk slowly seeped

out over the floor.

Phil swept Dan up into his arms, carried him to the bedroom, and lay him down on the bed.

Dan seemed small, too fragile to touch or hold. His big brown eyes were full of pain, too

old for him, too full of memories no one should have to hold.

Phil sat gently beside him and held him whilst he wept; he wept for hours. Dan held his

head in his hands and began to gently tear at his hair.

Phil carefully took Dan's hands away from his head, lowering them gently beside him. This

revealed red welts, red cuts and thin white scars.

Phil gasped, not knowing what to say. What could he say?

He held Dan again, strong and firm, giving Dan a shoulder to lean on.

After a few minutes, Phil whispered 'For how long?'.

Dan just shook his head.

'Please. I need to keep you safe babe' Phil urged, needing an answer.

'Years.' Dan uttered, it pained him to say this. Phil saw this pain, and whispered 'Ssshhh. I

am here now' Dan nodded, slowly.

After a while Phil got up and then quickly went into the other room to get blankets, bandages and a bowl of water with cotton wool. Dan saw this and went to move away, but fell back, too weak to counteract Phil's caring and worried side.

Phil slowly and carefully cleaned and bandaged Dan's arms, in doing so he discovered Dan's

arms were crisscrossed with scars and cuts. Whilst cleaning them, Phil winced, but

noticed Dan did not wince once. This troubled Phil.

He wrapped Dan up in all the blankets he could find, though Dan still sat and shivered.

For two or three days afterwards, Phil could not remember as was in a daze of worries

and confusion, Phil called ill at work. He also faked Dan's voice to do the same.

Dan had not spoken for those days, and Phil was eating himself up in anxiety. He had not

dealt with anything like this, and had no idea what to do nor what to say nor even how to

say or do anything.

It was the third or fourth day, when Dan uttered his first words - as such.

They were broken, scarcely hearable or understandable. But Phil heard and understood

more than he had ever before.

They were 'I love you Phil'.