Tessa accompanied Duncan back to the hospital that night. They entered Richie's room to find the boy sitting on top of the covers, staring dejectedly at the same magazine he had read last night.
"Thank God," was the boy's response when Tessa handed over a new stack. The Frenchwoman smiled at the normal Richie response. Duncan knew they were both glad to see the boy behaving at least a little like his usual self.
They told the boy about gathering up the food to be tested by the lab, but other than that they did not discuss anything about their current situation. In true Richie form, the boy anxiously filled up the dead air with mindless chatter, making jokes that they laughed at more out of their own anxiety than anything else.
Duncan knew that Richie didn't want to talk about his past and he didn't want to pry but he couldn't help feeling like ignoring it wasn't the best way to deal with the situation. Whether or not Richie had attempted suicide the night before last, it was obvious that the past was not as dead and forgotten as the boy wanted to pretend it was.
Tessa left just after ten thirty, leaving Duncan and Richie to spend another night in the hospital. After Richie's nightmare, Duncan wanted to stay with the boy in the hospital but he didn't feel that Tessa would be safe in the apartment alone. Having Tessa stay the night with a married friend was the best compromise.
Duncan knew he needed to talk to the boy before the sleeping pill kicked in and so the immortal got right to the point once they were alone.
"Rich, I made you an appointment with a psychologist for the day after tomorrow."
"But you said you believed me?!"
"I do, but this situation has obviously brought up some bad memories." Cautiously, Duncan sat on the bed beside the boy.
"Maac. I've been to them all, psychiatrists, psychologists, counselors. I'm fine."
"I know you are tough guy, but you need to talk to someone." The pointedly left out 'since you won't talk to me' hung in the air between them. Duncan took a deep breath, bolstering his own courage before continuing the conversation.
"You had a nightmare last night, about someone touching you. Rich, were you abused as a child?" The words stuck in Duncan's throat but he was through skirting around the issue.
Richie's eyes widened in shock before he looked down at his lap guiltily. "I didn't want you guys to know about that, that I'm even more damaged than you thought. I didn't want anyone to know."
Duncan had to struggle to keep his hands to himself. He had seen the juxtaposition of old pain in a young face, but in the eyes of immortals much older than the teen in front of him. He wanted to crush the boy to him in a hug, chase away the monsters under the bed. What kind of person could have hurt a child like that?
But Duncan remembered the doctor's words. It might well be his presence as an adult male in the room where Richie was sleeping that caused the boy to have nightmares. But eventually Richie would learn that Duncan could be trusted. He just had to give the boy time.
"You can't go back, Rich. Now we know and the knowledge hasn't changed how we feel about you."
That night was a replay of the previous. Rubbing the boy's back seemed to be an effective means of comfort, for which Duncan was thankful.
Still when Richie awoke in the morning, he was much more energetic than Duncan had seen him since the incident, owing no doubt to the fact that the boy would be discharged from the hospital that day. All he had to do was meet one more time with Dr. Keiner.
Duncan had already spoken with the doctor. She had said that Richie seemed to be well-adjusted, probably due to prior counseling and the boy's own determination. Unfortunately nightmares were very common and they would probably disappear on their own.
Still she warned him to watch out for signs of depression or passivity, increased anxiety, or, particularly, evidence of self-harm. The doctor explained that the introduction of a new male influence on Richie's life or his impending eighteenth birthday could have brought up old feelings of fear and worthlessness.
Her words about self-harm made Duncan realize that he had never seen Richie without pants, not when he went to wake the boy up in the mornings, not after a shower, not when the boy would run or play basketball, never. Was it because of a need to stay clothed and protected or because he was hiding evidence of self-mutilation or of past abuses?
The doctor must have seen his trepidation at the enormous responsibility he realized was ahead. Things had changed irrevocably. And all Duncan could do was promise to keep an eye out.
Tessa came to pick the two men up and they all went out to dinner. Richie was genuinely excited, excited to leave the hospital, excited to wear real clothes again, excited about good food. Perhaps the boy was also excited to still have a home to go to, to have two people who knew he wasn't perfect but cared for him all the same. At least Duncan hoped so.
And the boy's excitement did much to alleviate the tension that threatened their interactions that evening. Until they made it back to the apartment. Then Richie became quiet, almost unsure.
Fortunately Duncan was prepared. He had rented the latest action movie blockbuster and the three of them spent an enjoyable evening on the couch. Together.
