"Carry on my wayward son. They'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don't you cry no more." Kansas

Ben felt guilty about his job, so he took Riley out to ice cream first.

The boy sat quietly, looking about him in a curious, alert manner, probably not aware he squirmed slightly every time Ben made a move to touch him. Finally, to break the silence, Ben asked, "So, are you a chocolate person or a vanilla person?"

Riley blinked at him through his thick glasses. For the ump-teenth time, Ben reminded himself to get Riley new glasses. "Sorry?"

"Chocolate or vanilla? Ice cream." Ben clarified, looking over at Riley.

In truth, Riley knew what ice cream was. He had, after all, been living in the United States his entire life, and had gone to school. But he'd never had any. Oh, there were times in school when he probably could have taken a bite --- at an end-of-the-year party, perhaps, or a kid's birthday. But once, when he'd taken food without permission (this was after a two-day forced fast, and he was nine) Pop had belted one of his teeth loose. He never took food again.

Which is why he could only stare blankly at Ben. "Ummm…chocolate?" He liked the color of chocolate, a warm brown that reminded him of the fawns he'd see run through their front yard in the Spring. He always wished he could run with them to wherever they were going.

Maybe Ben was supposed to be an undercover cop, or 007's partner, but he seemed to know when Riley was lying. So did Abigail. So did Darrel. And they all did the same thing. They sighed, and Riley squirmed, and they'd ask him to tell the whole story.

"You ever have ice cream, Riley?"

"No."

There was a lump in Ben's throat but he managed to swallow past it. "Oh. Well…" He swallowed again, licking his lips, his hands shaking. It was small exchanges like these that made Ben want to punch something, or at the very least hug Riley. But Riley didn't like being touched. "Well, you get to try some today."

The ice cream parlor was nearly empty, as it was a rather rainy afternoon in the late fall. The teen behind the counter looked at Riley and smiled beautifully. Riley didn't notice. "There's so many colors!" he whispered, looking through the glass case.

"They're different flavors. This is my favorite." He pointed to Rocky Road, speckled as it was. "And that's Abigail's." Chocolate and Peanut Butter. "My dad always liked strawberry." And he'd always thought him off for that. If you were going to eat strawberry you might as well have yogurt, or sorbet. "And my mother…well, she never had the same flavor twice."

Riley seemed to take the decision seriously, peering at each bucket in turn. "I like that one." He murmured, pointing to a Vanilla Bean. The off-white color very nearly matched his skin. Riley cleared his throat. "Uhm…can I have a…a small Vanilla Bean ice cream?"

"Cup or cone?"

Riley didn't know how a cone could assist someone in eating ice cream. "Cup." He was nervous now, the same feeling he got whenever Pop was about to find out he'd been doing something bad. What if he said the wrong thing.

"Anything on it?"

What would you put on an ice cream? Wasn't that enough? But Ben answered for him, one of his hands coming down unexpectedly on Riley's shoulder. Riley scooted away and stood behind the tall man. "Hot fudge and whipped cream. No cherry." When the girl turned away, Ben confided, "I always hated cherries."

They took their ice creams to a table in the corner. Riley waited patiently until Ben had taken a bite of his own to begin eating. The rich flavor was like nothing he'd ever tasted…smooth and silky, the warm fudge contrasting the frozen cream. "This is great!" Riley said happily, getting another, larger spoonful. "Thank you, Ben."

"You're welcome." Ben lay his own spoon to the side. "Riley." He began, wondering if it was possible to do this task without frightening the teenager. "Riley, we need to go to the hospital later today."

Wide eyes and a dropped spoon told him it wasn't going to be easy. Riley sucked in a long, deep breath, something very close to tears glistening behind his glasses. "Why?"

"To get you checked over by the doctors. Stephanie told me they never ran a full scan; they just treated the wounds they could see at the home." Ben was afraid of what the tests might show, but he knew that if they figured out exactly what had happened to Riley, they'd have a better chance of helping him, or keeping him.

Riley looked down at his lap, long fingers splayed in a twisted pattern. "I'll be better, Mr. Gates, I swear. I…please, don't send me away. This is the…the best place I've ever been."

"I'm not sending you anywhere, Riley." Ben was thoroughly confused. "We're just going to the hospital. I'll be with you the whole time."

"But…" Riley said slowly, "Bu people only go to the hospital if they've been…awful, or if they are going to be…disposed of, because they're getting in the way." This is what he'd always been told, since he was little. It was why Pop would never, ever take him there, even if he did threaten it on more than one occasion.

Ben bit back his automatic response of who told you that? since he already knew the answer. "So you've never been to a hospital?" Some of Riley's injuries looked as if they should have required medical attention.

"No…"

"What if you were hurt?"

Riley merely looked at him, head slightly tilted to the side. "What what? If I was hurt I'd…nothing. I never really got hurt, anyway."

It was such a blatant lie that it was all Ben could do not to call the boy on it. Sighing, he said, "Eat up," pointing to the slightly soft ice cream. It was going to be a long day.

Sitting in the car, Riley felt every one of his fourteen years, and he was mad about it. "I don't need to go to the hospital." This was roughly the equivalent of someone coming up to you and saying that they needed to make a quick pit stop at the lion's cage and see if he was in.

"Stephanie says she wants to catalogue all of your injuries, including the ones you won't tell anyone about." Ben looked pointedly at him, then tousled his hair so quickly Riley didn't have the time to pull away. "You'll be okay, kid. You can do this."

Riley stared out the window, a feeling of dread beginning to settle into the pit of his stomach. "You sure there aren't any lion dens on the way?"

"What'd you say?"

"I said, 'Oh, boy, hospital.'"

As Ben expected, the hospital wasn't the least bit intimidating, though the wait was daunting. Luckily, Ben knew some people and was able to get one of his own friends, a buddy named Nathanial who'd been Ben's roommate in college, to check Riley over.

"He's a little scared." Ben muttered to Nathanial, who looked at Riley, obviously wondering why a fourteen-year-old was still afraid of doctors.

Riley looked defiant and crossed his arms, "I'm not scared. You're trying to kill me and keep telling me it'll be okay. How would you feel?" He was nervous, and angry that Ben had betrayed him. The manners, the scared-little-kid attitude, was out the window. With Pop, only two things worked to escape beatings, being meek and mild or aloof, sarcastic…usually the second one was only for when Pop was drunk, but he figured it might work on Ben now.

Nathanial bent towards Riley, making the boy's scowl deepen. Now he was being treated like a kid. "Listen, Riley, I won't lie to you, some of these procedures are pretty invasive and scary. But I'll explain everything to you, and Ben will stay with you the whole time."

Riley tried to hold his glare, but he wasn't made for those expressions. He faltered, glanced anxiously between the men, knowing he was going to be uncomfortable all afternoon. "Promise?"

"Promise. Okay, we'll just take some X-Rays first. Hop up on the table, kid." Ben winked at Riley, his body covered in a grey smock. Riley didn't get one. Maybe he'd die of radiation poisoning. Maybe that'd be easier.

"Don't breathe." Nathanial called. Ben smirked at Riley, "Stop breathing kid. Stop. Don't breathe. Not one breath. Stop!" Riley let out a small chuckle as the light passed over his body. He tried not to squirm…it didn't hurt, but it seemed like it should.

"Great job, kid." Ben mouthed, as Nathanial instructed Riley to turn first one way, then the other, until he ended up on his back.

"Photo shoot's over, Riley. Want to see your pictures?" A few keys were tapped on a computer and Riley's skeletal structure was suddenly on display.

All three males stared at the pictures until Nathanial turned to Ben. "You want me to…circle the breaks, or something?" Ben nodded mutely, jaw clenched. Riley merely hung his head, ashamed that all his past discretions were suddenly visible for the world to see.

In all, thirty-four breaks and fractures were pointed out and circled in red. Riley glared at the stupid shapes, wishing they'd go away. He didn't need reminders of his aches…most of them had stopped hurting a long time ago, or maybe Riley'd just learned to block out the pain.

"There's one that's still healing…it's maybe six weeks old. Riley, give me your left wrist." Oh yeah, the one Pop's slammed in the door when Riley had tried to pull it open to escape one of his rages. "We can put a cast on it, but we'd have to re-break it. It's not healing quite right."

Riley jerked his wrist away, doubling over on it protectively. Some people say that their greatest fear was spiders, or the dark. Riley's was pain. He knew when pain was coming…could sense it. Why would he go through that voluntarily. "No way." He snarled as meanly as he could when his voice was breaking. "No way. They've all been fine before. Leave it alone." God, and Ben had said this was a safe place. They were just looking to break him, too.

Nathanial held up his hands in surrender, his grey eyes compassionate and knowing. "Okay, kid, we don't' have to do that, but it would stop hurting."

Except that nothing could make Riley stop hurting, so that was another lie.

More tests, more than Riley could count, to determine if he'd ever had given drugs, his stress levels, whether we was likely to have a seizure. And MRI, CAT scan, and two more X-Rays were taken before Nathanial turned to Riley. "One test left. You ready?"

And, instinctively, Riley knew what it was. He opened his mouth to say 'no' but could only nod yes, lowering his eyes. Ben's hand was on Riley's shoulder and, for once, he didn't mind it being there.

The questions were uncomfortable, so personal they made Riley squirm. He squeezed his eyes tight and answered truthfully, a battle raging in his head. Though shall not lie against Honor thy mother and thy father.

Every fiber of Riley's being rebelled against the probing instruments inserted all over the one area of his body Riley was most secretive about. Let this be over soon. Riley prayed, looking away from Ben, who's sympathetic eyes made Riley want to cry.

"Almost done, Riley, you're doing great." Nathanial's voice was somewhere below Riley, disembodied except for a horribly familiar, slimy feeling that settled deep into his stomach. This was the final thing…why he hadn't wanted to go to the hospital. Ben would know, and he wouldn't want Riley anymore. And Riley wanted to be with Ben, more than anything else in the world.

But what could he do? He was fourteen and he was screwed up and dirty. He had been incredibly lucky (okay, aided luck. His computer skills helped) that the Gates had picked him out of those crowded, cramped homes.

"Good job, Riley." Ben probably should have known better than to touch Riley just after the boy had buttoned back his clothes. Riley cringed away, his tiny body trembling, so different from the serious, sarcastic teen of a few hours before.

"Please, sir…no…" And that proved, as much as the test and nightmares and bruises, that Riley had problems. That he needed help.

This time, instead of backing away and giving Riley space, Ben bent down towards the boy and enveloped him in long, gentle arms. "I've got you, kid. He'll never get to you again. I promise."

You shouldn't promise something you can't keep, Ben. You know better than that.

Finals! Summer! Warmth! Review?