Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or this world at all. I make no money writing this. It would be nice, but considering how long it takes me to update I'd starve anyway.

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Chapter 11

Draco woke in another strange room, but at least this one was warm. He opened his eyes carefully. There was no one in there but him, so he had the time to examine his newest environment.

The walls were wooden, a shining dark amber. Pictures of forest scenes hung on the walls, a few paintings and a tapestry. A calendar on the table by the bed showed the date as the thirty-first, so he had only been gone a week. The metal tree from the hospital was in the room as well, anchored to his arm. And when he went to examine the tubing he found that his hand was free, no longer tied down, though still thickly bandaged.

The air smelled of cinnamon and lemon, an unfamiliar combination, but significantly more pleasant than anything else he had encountered lately, the thick damp of the cellar, the bitter medicinal air of the hospital.

Carefully shifting on the bed he had woken in, he took a moment to examine his injuries. His face felt less swollen to questing fingertips, though he wanted a mirror to see exactly how bad it was. His wrists were aching dully, but it had faded from the earlier pain, and a few experimental deep breaths didn't bring too much pain.

Sitting up gently, he felt the deeper pain of the rape. The immediacy of the violence was gone, and every motion didn't bring back the initial tearing sensation, but there was a feeling of loss left behind, as though something had been taken out of him, or from him.

He tried to clear it out of his mind. The important thing right now was to figure out where he was and who had him, and try to get away.

A soft knock came to the door, followed by a pause. Another knock and another pause led Draco to believe whoever was on the other side might be waiting for permission; it was a novel sensation after the events of the past few days.

"Come in," Draco said, trying to keep his voice calm and steady.

The door opened on a black-robed figure carrying a tray. Stepping in and closing the door behind them, they looked up and Draco saw it was the nun from the hospital, the one who gave him ice chips. She seemed to have something better on offer today, as the tray held a large mug with a savory steam wafting out of it.

She came towards the bed at a steady pace, not hurrying or slowing down, and when she was close enough, she set the tray on a small table, and handed the mug over.

Draco reached for it with his free hand, but it shook slightly, and he dropped the hand into his lap, not trusting it with the weight of the cup, and turning away from the woman to face the wall as he felt the heat of a blush climb his cheeks.

Behind him he heard her cluck her tongue, then a warm hand settled on his own.

"My petite. You have had too much pain. But I meant what I said at the hospital. You are very strong, and you can believe me on this because Sister Jeanne Marie never lies."

Taking a deep breath, Draco forced the blush to recede and turned back to the woman.

With a small smile haunting the corners of her mouth, she looked at him, measuring his condition while keeping her hands at her sides. Her eyes twinkling slightly she nodded once, decisively, and picked up the mug again.

"I will help you eat, because you must eat if we are to get those tubes out of you. But I know soon enough you will be fighting me for the spoon."

She laughed lightly, and offered the mug, which Draco now saw was half full of some broth and he leaned forward, sipping at the tepid but delicious liquid.

After a few sips, with barely half of the broth gone, he leaned back, shaking his head as she offered the cup.

"No more. I can't," he rubbed his stomach gently. He saw no change in the blanket covered expanse, but he felt stuffed full.

The nun set the mug back on the tray and offered Draco a napkin. He took it and wiped his mouth carefully, his face still sore.

Taking back the cloth, she set it on the tray as well, and picked it up, turning to walk away.

Draco grabbed her arm to stop her, and she turned quickly, "Yes? Is something wrong?"

"Where-- I mean. This is the third time I've woken up and I don't know—"

He couldn't finish the questions, but she seemed to know what he wanted. She set the tray back down and walked towards the bed, gently lifting the quilt higher over his chest.

Draco let himself be coddled, but he didn't let go of her hand.

Smiling, she said, "You're in a safe place. The man I introduced at the hospital runs a detective agency, and they are working to find the monster that hurt you before he can hurt anyone else."

Draco felt his chest tighten up. He didn't want to find that monster, he wanted to hide. His breathing grew faster and he saw spots in front of his eyes.

He could hear his head buzzing, and he started to drift off into the grey static when he felt a sudden sharp pinch on his arm. For the first time there wasn't a shining needle at the end of it, but the boney fingers of the elderly nun.

"I'm sorry dear, but you needed to calm down a bit. I know these are distressing times, but we must hold strong and brave the danger." Her voice was so forthright and matter of fact that Draco found himself nodding along before he realized what she was saying.

Shaking his head gently in negation, he said, "Wait. You want me to help? I just got away from that bastard. I'm done. Besides, I'm a coward. I don't fight; I hide until I can run."

The words tasted bitter on his tongue, but Draco knew they were true. He'd spent his childhood hiding behind his friends and his father's name, and that night on the tower he'd run again, depending on Severus to save his skin.

Releasing the nun's hand with a sharp jerk, Draco settled himself as comfortably as he could and turned his head away, closing his eyes and faking sleep.

The nun said nothing, but picked up the tray and left. Draco heard her open and

close the door quietly, and eventually his fatigue got the best of him and feigned sleep

became the real thing.

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Author's Note: I know it doesn't seem like it sometimes, given how long it takes me to update, but I don't have any abandoned stories. I intend for every one of these to be completed, though I'm not sure when that will be. This one is actually a bit of a favorite of mine, just because it feels so different from some of my other stories. I have a few chapters written ahead on this one so I will try not to make you wait forever for the next installment.

Until then, please let me know what you think. I value all of your opinions, good and bad. Though more the good ones I have to admit.