I've always loved a good height difference 333

James is 6'4, and like 190lbs of pure muscle, while Sofia is 5'6 and 108lbs.

He can bench 300lb and dead-hang 350lbs, So lifting Sofia is no different than tossing a bag of dog food over his shoulder ^^

No comment about Miranda's death; you will have to wait patiently (lmao, I know)

I can't believe this story has over 200 comments!

Thank you all so much for sticking with me; it means the world to me to have such amazing fans!

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Chapter 16

James

The ride to the police station was quiet; dad sped through stoplights, mom stared in the mirror, intently watching the broken girl on my lap, and I kept my eyes on the frayed notebooks Sofia held to her chest.

There were four Lisa Frank notebooks with unicorns on the front.

The edges had signs of past scorch marks, the sides were stapled, as though she ripped the pages out and tried to repair them.

I wondered what horrors the contents contained, wishing I had noticed them before.

We walked through the tomb-like police station doors, and dad walked up to the officer behind the window.

Sofia stood a foot away from me, refusing to allow me to close the distance.

The sheriff motioned for us to follow him through the door on the left, and we shuffled behind him to a large room with a round table surrounded by chairs.

"So, why are you all here today?" the sheriff asked expectantly.

Sofia explained everything to him.

The crash.

The abuse.

The forced drug use.

Miranda abandoning her.

Mom and dad taking guardianship of her.

"Is there any evidence behind your statement?" the sheriff asked once she finished talking.

"She has scars on her back from where Miranda and the others beat her," Mom said.

"I have these," Sofia slid the notebooks across the table to him, "It's a recollection from when I was nine until I turned thirteen,"

"We will take pictures of the scars and make copies of these, but I'm afraid there's nothing we can do about the drug use. However, we will administer a test to make sure you're not currently using, but there is no way to confirm if it's been six years since your last dose," he explained, flipping through the notebooks.

"She's not a drug addict!" I growled, "Sofia came in here willingly; what can you charge Miranda and those other ass-holes with?!"

"James," Sofia touched my arm, "It's okay," she whispered, kissing my hand.

"I hope that is the case, young man, but Miss Benson is a minor, and those scars on her arms and stomach are self-inflicted," he pointed to Sofia's arms. She folded them protectively across her chest, "I am going to start an investigation into Miranda Benson and the others involved, and I am also going to have to insist on a 48-hour hold at the stress ward. Since this is the weekend and it won't keep her out of school, we can take her over after we get wrapped up here,"

I balled my fists under the table; why was he treating Sofia like a criminal when she was the fucking victim?

Sofia was blankly staring at the table.

"Is that necessary? She has an appointment with a therapist on Monday," dad asked, "Furthermore, Sofia hasn't had an incident for four days. Doesn't she have a say?"

"Of course she does, I'm not going to force her to go, but I have seen cases like this before," the sheriff patted Sofia's hand, and I tensed, "It would be in your best interest, Miss Benson,"

"I'll go," Sofia whispered, looking at the man sadly, "I have been having thoughts of relapsing all week, but I don't want medication,"

"That, I'm afraid, is out of my hands. It will be up to the hospital staff," the sheriff kept his hand on hers, and she sighed.

My leg started to twitch as I watched the scene unfold in front of me.

I didn't want to interfere if it was what Sofia wanted, but it was bullshit!

"Sofia, honey, if it's what you want, then we will respect your wishes," mom frowned.

"Maybe it will help," Sofia shrugged, keeping her eyes down.

"Let's get those pictures and that drug test, and I'll need Miranda's address," the sheriff finally removed his claw from Sofia's shaking hand.

I followed everyone out the door, internally screaming, wishing I could take Sofia home and lock us in our room.

How had Sofia incriminating Miranda turned into Sofia being observed in a fucking hospital?

"James, go home and pack us some clothes; we will stay with her over the weekend," mom squeezed my hand, "dad has the weekend off, and I will ask to be placed in the stress ward for the duration of Sofia's stay,"

I nodded, watching Sofia slump behind the sheriff, disappearing into another room.

Mom handed me her keys and went over the list of things to grab before I walked to her car.

I started the engine, turned the radio up as loud as it would go, and screamed.

This isn't what I wanted to happen, but it was all my fault for pushing her so damn hard!

I slammed my hands on the steering wheel, not caring if I broke it.

Fuck Patrick.

Fuck Miranda.

Fuck the sheriff.

My girl didn't deserve to be treated like a god damn criminal!

Sofia was supposed to have come here, told her story, and waited patiently in my arms for Miranda and those other motherfuckers to go the FUCK TO PRISON!

I threw the car into reverse and sped home, wanting to get back in time to push my way through her door before they had a chance to tell me no.

I wasn't going to leave her side.

I tossed clothes, toothbrushes, towels, and deodorant into a suitcase and flew back to the sheriff's department.

Mom and dad were standing under the mezzanine, flagging me down.

"They just took Sofia over, let me drive; I can park in the employee lot so we can get through quicker," mom demanded, kicking me out of the front.

We walked through the hospital entrance, dad rolling the suitcase behind him, and found the stress unit registration desk.

"Has Sofia Benson been admitted yet?" Mom asked, startling the receptionist.

"Are you family?" the receptionist asked, looking over the top of her glasses.

"Yes, we are her guardians," mom nodded.

"Mm, Miss Benson is in triage right now. You can wait in the waiting room. I will let you know when you can see her," the lady said, looking back down at her computer.

I cracked my knuckles intimidatingly, but dad patted my back and pointed at the empty waiting room.

"There's no use trying to fight your way in, son; we have to be patient," he whispered, glaring back at the woman, "she's just doing her job,"

I clenched my jaw and roughly sat down in the poorly padded chair, crossing my arms and staring at the door.

"I'm going to get something to drink. Do you guys want anything?" mom asked, gently touching my shoulder.

I shook my head.

"Get me a cup of coffee, dear, and a candy bar," dad said, pulling out his wallet.

"Okay," mom took it from him and left the room.

"What do you think about taking a camping trip next weekend?" dad asked, "we can rent a camper and head up north; the fresh air and sunshine would be good for everyone,"

I looked over at him, my face softening at the visible signs of strain on his face, "Yeah, Dad, that sounds great. I bet Sofia would love to,"

He nodded, "I'll talk to your mom so that she can get the days off. We need to spend some time as a family, and you two need some alone time away from civilization,"

"We haven't gone camping since I was, what, twelve?" I chuckled.

"Yeah, we've been so busy, what with football and work. I've been dying to get back on the lake. Your grandpa and I used to go fishing every weekend when I was your age," he smiled, moving to the chair next to me, "I'm sorry we haven't spent much time together the last few years, but I want to make some good memories with you and your girl before you go off and start a family of your own,"

"I'd like that, dad," I patted his shoulder, "I want that too,"

"Here you go, Roland," mom handed him his coffee and Milky Way Midnight, "I got you some spicy peanuts, James," she threw the bag at me.

"Thanks, mom," I smiled, opening the bag and pouring the contents into my mouth.

"Do you think you can get next weekend off, Anne?" dad asked, dipping the candy bar into his coffee.

"Maybe, since I'm taking extra shifts this weekend, why?" mom asked, unwrapping her honeybun.

"I want to take the kids camping up north; we can rent a camper and leave Friday night," he smiled, sipping his coffee.

"Oh, Roland! That's a fantastic idea!" she smiled, "You are cleaning the fish, though," she shivered.

"Yes, dear," he chuckled, "you can sit in the air-conditioned camper and watch TV while the kids and I do all the hard work,"

"You bet I will; my idea of roughing it is a Holiday Inn and a black and white TV," she laughed.

"And that's why it's been five years since we went camping," dad rolled his eyes, moving next to mom on the couch.

Mom playfully shoved him and kissed him on the cheek, "I'll do better this time, as long as you invest in mosquito netting,"

"We're going up north, love, not back to Florida," dad pointed out, "but I'll get the nets just for you,"

"Thank you," she nodded, throwing away her wrapper.

"Are you the family of Sofia Benson?" an orderly asked, holding the door open with his foot.

"Yes," I jumped up.

"Follow me," he said, leading us out of the door.

We were taken behind two big, wooden doors and led to Sofia's room.

"Sofia!" I smiled, kneeling by the bed and taking her hand.

"Hi," she smiled back weakly.

She had an IV connected to her wrist, a blood pressure cuff on her forearm, a heart monitor on her finger, and was under a thin blanket.

"What is in the IV?" mom asked the nurse, checking the bag.

"Saline solution, she is a little dehydrated," the nurse answered, writing something on her clipboard.

"How are you feeling, sweetie?" mom asked, sitting in a chair next to her bed and taking her other hand.

"Like a zoo animal," she frowned, "but I'm okay,"

"The doctors will be in shortly; you will have to wait back in the waiting room unless Miss Benson is okay with you staying," the nurse explained, heading to the door.

"I want them to stay," Sofia retorted quickly, "I don't want to be alone,"

"Okay, but you're in here for a reason, Miss Benson; you need to rest," the nurse turned back around.

"I can rest with them here. Please don't make my family leave," Sofia pleaded, and the nurse sighed.

"I'll see what I can do," the nurse nodded, walking out the door.

"I'm so sorry, baby, this is all my fault," I frowned, laying my head on her arm.

"What are you talking about?" Sofia asked, "you were trying to help me, and now I'm being helped. I hope anyway. Otherwise, I was stabbed with that stupid IV six times for nothing,"

"Six times?" mom fumed, "who did they send in here? A three-year-old?"

"Two nurses and the supervisor, apparently I have 'narrow veins' or something," Sofia rolled her eyes.

"Your first hospital experience and it turns into another traumatic experience," mom grumbled, "I'll file a complaint, sweetie, and I'm going to be stationed as your nurse first thing in the morning,"

"Really?" Sofia's face lit up, "Thank you, Anne!"

"Of course, sweetie, who better to take care of you than your mother-in-law," mom giggled.

"We're going camping next weekend, too," dad added happily.

"I love camping!" Sofia gushed, "where are we going?"

"You've been camping?" I asked more offensively than I had intended.

Everyone stared at me in a 'shut up' tone.

"Yes, James, I've been camping," Sofia rolled her eyes, "Sam's parents lived in a gated community with a lake; we would visit them in the summer and go out on their pontoon boat and camp in their camper," she explained.

"We will probably go up to Michigan; there are some good spots in Holland for fishing and hiking," dad explained, pulling out his phone and checking the map.

"Sorry," I whispered, "I didn't mean that to sound so bad,"

"It's okay," Sofia laughed, "but I didn't spend all of my childhood in a closet,"

We all bowed our heads sadly.

"Miss Benson?" a man in a white coat knocked on the door, "may I come in,"

"Yes," we all said in unison, glad someone was there to cut through the tension in the room.

He smiled and pulled her chart from the end of the bed; two other men followed him.

"My name is Doctor Hathaway, and these are my trainees, Doctor Martin and Doctor Finley. Are you okay with everyone staying?" the doctor asked, looking around the room, and Sofia nodded.

"Yeah,"

"Okay, so first of all, your drug test came back negative," he began.

"No shit," I whispered under my breath.

"Are you aware of why you're here?" he asked, either ignoring my comment or not hearing it.

"Because I've been self-harming," Sofia nodded.

"Well, yes, that is a significant factor, but according to the results of the mental health assessment you took when you arrived, you have severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, anxiety, and depression," he explained, holding the chart to his side, "now, we can treat this in a couple of ways. One being medication, which I highly recommend,"

"No, I don't want medication," Sofia shook her head, "what are the other options?"

"I understand how scary medication may seem, but it is the best option. Most patients only have to take them for a year before they can stop and continue with therapy alone," he pressed.

"I said no, I don't want it to change who I am," she glared at the doctor.

"Isn't that the goal, though? It won't change anything about you except your urge to hurt yourself or others around you," he spoke calmly.

Sofia turned her head toward the window, "I'm scared," she whispered.

"I know you are, and I'm sure your family is scared for you," he said, looking at all of us.

Mom and dad nodded, but I held Sofia's hand tightly.

"We all want what's best for you, but we don't want to pressure you into something you're uncomfortable with," mom said, running her hand through Sofia's hair.

"Can you promise I won't change too much?" Sofia asked, looking back at the doctor.

"Only in the best ways," he smiled, grabbing her foot softly.

"James, what do you think?" she asked me, her eyes searching my face for an answer.

"I think that you should do what feels right; you know I'll be right here no matter what," I kissed her gently.

"I'll try them if only so I don't hurt you again," she whispered, looking at me and then back at the doctor, nodding slowly.

"I'll let your nurse know and get you started on a regimen this evening. There will be a therapist up soon to talk to you as well; you should make an appointment with one as soon as you can," the doctor smiled.

"She has one Monday afternoon," dad said, looking up from the couch.

"Good, I'll be back to check on you in the morning," the doctor said, motioning for his minions to leave.

"Thank you, doctor," mom smiled, "are you okay, sweetie?" she asked, looking back at Sofia.

Sofia shrugged, "We'll see, I guess,"

"You've got all of us here, baby," I kissed her forehead.

"I know, thank you all," she smiled, closing her eyes.

There was another knock at the door.

"Come in," mom called, and a woman in a navy blue pantsuit entered.

"Are you the parents of Sofia Benson?" she asked, walking to the middle of the room.

"We're her guardians," dad answered.

"My name is Sarah Goldman; I'm a social worker for the state of Ohio," she announced, "may I speak with you two in my office?"

Mom nodded her head and waited for dad to join her before following Sarah out of the room.

"Social worker?" Sofia asked, frowning, "Anne and Roland aren't going to get in trouble, are they?"

"Shh, I'm sure they are just going to have to fill out some paperwork, baby," I cooed, not wanting her to get worked up, "don't worry,"

"I don't want them to take me away, James," she whimpered, her heart rate climbing.

"You won't; we won't let them," I said, stroking the back of her hand with my thumb, "why don't you take a nap until the therapist comes?"

"Will you stay with me?" she asked, calming down.

"Of course, I'm not going to leave your side," I promised, laying her bed down.

She closed her eyes, keeping her hand in mine.

I waited for her to fall asleep and went into the bathroom. I splashed water on my face, staring into the mirror.

I had to remind myself that this was all for the best because I felt like absolute shit.

"James?" mom called from the room, and I opened the door.

"Shh, she's sleeping," I whispered, pointing at my angel, "what did the social worker want?"

"Let's go into the hall, so we don't wake her up," mom whispered, and I followed her anxiously out of the room.

"Well?" I asked, looking at my parents.

"Everything is fine, but we have to give the state updates on Sofia's progress until she turns 18," dad assured me.

"Updates?" I asked, looking at them quizzically.

"They want to make sure she stays on her medication, goes to therapy, and stays in school. That sort of thing, it's normal for someone in her situation," mom explained.

"Okay? What happens if they don't like the reports you give them?" I asked, frowning.

"Worst case scenario, she gets put in foster care. But we won't let that happen; she wants to get better," dad said, putting his hand on my shoulder, "she's our girl, James. Don't worry,"

I nodded, running my hands through my hair.

"NO! PLEASE STOP!" Sofia screamed, "IT HURTS!"

We ran back into her room, followed by three nurses.

Sofia was flailing around on her bed, grabbing at her IV.

"Hold her down!" one of the nurses yelled, "Stand back!" she demanded, pointing at us.

"I DON'T WANT TO!" Sofia screeched, tears flowing down her face, "STOP TOUCHING ME!"

"Sofia, wake up!" one of the nurses shook her.

"JAMES! HELP ME!" Sofia sobbed, straining to get free of the nurses' grips.

I held my hand over my mouth, watching the nurses scramble to wake my princess up.

A nurse injected medicine in her IV, and Sofia started to calm down.

"PLEASE DON'T! I'M SORRY!" she cried, her strength weakening.

"What did you give her?" I asked, running to her side.

"A mild sedative to help her sleep. Does this happen often?" the nurse asked, catching her breath.

"Once in the past week," mom answered, joining me, "she seemed to be doing better,"

I bit my tongue, wondering if I should tell them all that I've been sleeping with her.

"Her medication will help her sleep, but I'll make sure to add something extra to her regimen," the nurse stated, checking Sofia's vitals.

"Okay," mom sighed, slumping back in her chair.

Dad sat back on the couch, rubbing his temples.

I knelt back down, wiping the sweat off of Sofia's forehead.

"Shift change," a male nurse walked in, changing the name on Sofia's board to Marcus, "are you all staying in here tonight?"

"Yeah," dad nodded, sitting up on the couch.

"I'll get you some pillows and blankets," he smiled, checking Sofia's vitals and checking her chart.

"Thank you," mom smiled, stretching in the chair.

Sofia had been asleep for two hours, and there was no sign of her waking up anytime soon.

I stood up from the floor, rolling my shoulders.

"I'll get you a chair, too," Marcus smiled.

"Thanks, man, much appreciated," I nodded.

"I'm going to the vending machine," mom stated, standing up, "do you want a burrito or something, James?"

"Sure, and a bottle of water," I replied, sitting on the couch next to dad.

"Okay, coffee Roland?" she asked, grabbing her purse.

"Decaf, and something with sustenance," he grunted, getting up and disappearing into the bathroom.

I pulled out my phone and stared at my lock screen.

I missed my girl.

"Hopefully, she sleeps through the night," dad said, sitting back down.

"Yeah," I mumbled, clicking my phone back off.

Marcus returned with a chair full of blankets and pillows, "here you go, guys," he positioned the chair beside the bed.

"Thanks, Marcus," dad nodded, grabbing a pillow and blanket.

I stood up, putting mom's in her chair, and unfolded mine.

"Do you need anything else?" Marcus asked.

"No, I think we're good," I said, getting comfortable before he left.

Mom came in and gave us our food, and we all ate in silence, staring at Sofia.

We were all concerned about her.

Mom turned off the lights, and we settled in for a long night.