I do not own Ratched.

I do not own my angel boy Huck. But I love him.

Huck Finnigan Lives Again: A Ratched Fairytale

One Lost Indian Boy


"Huck, uh, I mean, Mr. Finnigan, uh, I mean Head Nurse Finnigan-"

"Calm down, Martha. Take a breath. What is it?"

"We can't find Peter!"

It is the middle of the night.

Mrs. Graham has banged on the stair railing to his garage apartment . . .

"Huck! There's a phone call for you! From the hospital!"

. . . with her walking cane loud enough to . . .

"I told them you were sleeping but they said it was an emergency!"

. . . wake the entire neighborhood.

"I'm coming, Mrs. Graham!"

And Huck, rumpled and bleary-eyed . . .

Oh god, I hope somebody else hasn't been shot.

. . . stumbles down the stairs.

Across the side lawn . . .

Mrs. Kee's been awfully uppity since I punched Al.

. . .and through the kitchen . . .

I really should get her out onto the shuffleboard court to work some of that energy out. Gee, that's not a bad idea-

. . . to the rotary phone in the hall.

"Hello? This is Huck."

And the nurse on duty . . .

"We did rounds and we couldn't find him. Jill swears he was in his bed when she left him!"

. . . sounds not quite hysterical.

"We've looked everywhere!"

It's only one missing indian boy, after all.

"Nurse Bucket said she was sleeping. Said to call you."

And Huck takes a deep breath.

"Okay. I'll be right there. Keep looking in the meantime."

And hangs up the phone.

"Mrs. Graham, I need to borrow your car."


"-therapy room, in the surgery, in the laundry-"

Martha has met him at the front door.

Too many lights are on, the place standing out like a lighthouse beacon against the vast ocean of the night sky.

And Huck . . .

"What about the sunroom?"

"Yes."

. . . is growing . . .

"The kitchen?"

"Yes."

. . . increasingly worried.

He's just a kid. He's all alone.

And they keep looking.


And then . . .

Of course. Why didn't I think of it before?

. . . it hits him.

"Martha, stay here. Keep the others looking. I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?"


The door creaks as he opens it and slips inside.

He vaguely figures it needs to be oiled.

As he creeps toward the stalls, beams from the flashlight cutting through the gloom.

The quiet snuffles and grunts of the sleeping animals lends the space a soothing quality.

And he hopes he's right at his guess.

At first he doesn't see anything, his eyes still adjusting to the near absolute darkness.

And then . . .

Thank God.

. . . it's there.

The vision he'd been hoping for.

Horse, nestled down in the hay, expulsions of rhythmic breath blowing in and out of her black nostrils, warming the space around her.

And the boy they have been looking for, nestled, curled into the body, head resting on the curve of the neck.

Peaceful and content.

And Huck . . .

I'll talk to him in the morning.

. . . finds a blanket, . . .

At least to say it's okay.

. . . covers him up.

We really should get a bell for him or something though.

Now that is a bad idea.

And creeps back the way he came.


"He's in the barn, sleeping in the horse stall with the Arabian."

The nurse's countenance sags in relief . . .

"I understand."

. . . then shifts into a professional facade . . .

"I'll have an orderly collect him and put him in isolation, restriction for punishment-"

. . . as she moves . . .

"-perhaps schedule a shock treatment and some additional meds-"

. . . to get to her duty.

"No."

And Huck stops her in her tracks.

"Absolutely not."

She stops, turns back toward him, face a confused frown.

And Huck . . .

Can't you see?

. . . continues.

"No punishment. He's connecting with something, reaching outside of himself for the first time in months-"

And the nurse cannot hold her silence.

"Excuse me but he's broken the rules of the hospital. And he's not even connecting with people. Just an animal."

And Huck tries to make her understand.

"Yes. And that's a start, a jumping-off point."

To see.

"He feels safe there. We can build on that."

And finally gives his directive.

"Give me his file. I'll keep it documented so we can track his progress."

And the nurse . . .

"Yes, sir."

. . . complies.


Thank you to Conbird and DinahRay for so graciously reviewing the previous chapter!