XI

Jed flattened his hands against the table and tried hard to breathe without screaming. "I'm sorry, Abbey," he gasped out. "I didn't mean to get you in-"

"Oh, don't you start with this crap!" she snapped. "God, men! Get a clue, the lot of you!" She was trying to be angry, but he could see she was upset underneath it. He straightened up, with an effort.

Abbey's doctor's instinct took over.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt your back? Let me see."

He flinched away from her touch, as much out of guilt as from fear she might somehow see through his lie about how he'd hurt himself. She obviously thought her boyfriend was being a jealous idiot, but Jed was sure he was partly to blame. He'd finally admitted to himself that he was drawn to Abbey... what if Ron had recognised that in him, seen the way his interest wasn't as innocent as it should be?

He had no right to be thinking about her that way. So far as she was concerned, he was just her friend... more than that, he was her friend who was supposed to be becoming a priest, for God's sake. What the hell was he thinking?

Jed pulled away from her. "I've gotta, um-" He gestured vaguely towards the restroom, and staggered towards it as fast as the pain in his back would let him.

When he got inside, his legs practically collapsed from under him. The bruises from his father's beating stung with a new agony. He leaned against the wall and just breathed for a few minutes, then shakily made his way over to the washbasin and drank water from his cupped hands.

He hesitated, glancing towards the door, then he cautiously lifted the back of his sweatshirt and tried to crane over his shoulder to look at himself in the mirror.

The door swung open. Jed dropped his sweatshirt and spun around hurriedly. It was Abbey.

He gaped at her. "What the hell-?"

Ignoring his bemusement, she marched towards him with a determined expression on her face. "Okay, Jethro, turn around, take your shirt off, and let me see."

He continued to stare.

"Now!" she barked.

Suddenly slightly frightened, he turned around to rest his hands on the top of the washbasin. "I'm telling your dad you followed me into the men's room and ordered me to take my clothes off," he threatened nervously, as he tugged the sweatshirt over his head and held it defensively across his chest.

Abbey sucked in an appalled breath as she saw the bruised state of his lower back. "Oh, Jed..." she breathed. She cautiously reached out with her fingertips to touch his flesh, and it wasn't only pain that made his muscles go taut with tension.

The door swung open again. They both turned their heads, to see a student type hesitating in the doorway with an... interesting... expression on his face. Abbey jerked a peremptory thumb at him.

"Honey, this restroom has been commandeered by the medical division. Take a hike."

The man stared at them, and Abbey narrowed her eyes.

"Hey, you're a guy," she shrugged shortly. "Pee up a tree or something. Use the ladies', I don't care. Scram!"

He pulled his eyebrows up in an 'okaaaay' expression, and left. Jed looked across at Abbey. "Can I put my clothes back on now, please? Before anybody else walks in here?"

She gave him a look equal parts stern and concerned. "Jed... you are really beaten up here."

"I'm okay." He shrugged the sweatshirt back on.

"Did you have a doctor look at this?"

"It's fine."

"Jed!" She glared, and then shook her head at him. "You're coming home with me. I'm gonna get my dad to look at you." She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out.

"Abbey, I really don't need- Something the matter?" he asked a very startled couple seated just outside the restroom door.

"You're getting it looked at, Jed, and that's final," Abbey insisted. She walked back to their table and picked up both of his suitcases. "And don't even think about trying to take one of these," she warned.

"Okay." He trailed after her, defeated.

The young man flinched even under his expert doctor's touch. The bruises on his back were extensive, and beginning to turn spectacularly colourful.

"You say you slipped on a pile of logs?" Daniel queried.

"Yes, sir." Jed nodded even though the doctor was behind him. "I was climbing over and I slid down and landed on my back."

"Mm." He walked around the boy and tilted his chin up to look him in the eye. "Jed... does your father hit you a lot?"

"Sir, I-" Jed pulled back instinctively, but Daniel had already seen the answer in his face.

"Jed." He let the silence weigh heavily for a beat. "My daughter may have believed you, if nothing else because you have an honest face, but I've been a doctor for a long long time, and I know a beating when I see one. And if it had been anybody else but your father you would already have said so, so don't disrespect my intelligence by lying to me now."

He looked down at the study floor, and said nothing; as close as Daniel knew he would get to an admission. He sat down on the edge of the desk to be at a better eye level with the boy. "You want to tell me what this was about?" he asked gently.

Jed shook his head mutely, suddenly reduced to the figure of a much younger boy. Daniel's heart bled at the sight of him.

"Okay," he said softly. He reached out, careful of his injured back, and pulled the boy against him. Jed just seemed to stand there stiffly for a moment, as if confused by the gesture, then he slowly twisted around in his arms to accept the embrace. Daniel stroked his hair. "Okay, son. It's okay."

Jed lay face down on Matthew Barrington's bed. He supposed it was just as well Abbey's brother hadn't stayed home for the whole Christmas period. Despite his token protests over the Barringtons' hospitality, he really hadn't wanted to face the thought of going back to the house and his boisterous roomies.

He felt at once both sleepy and agitated, uncomfortable with the idea that Dr. Barrington knew about his father. It had the itch of a secret that should never have been revealed, a dark place that was best left covered up.

Yet, at the same time, there was an odd feeling of relief. Like the hollow but somehow reassuring feeling after you'd thrown up until you couldn't do it anymore. Like there it was, all done with, and you were still alive.

He wasn't sure what reaction he'd expected. Not expected, because well, that fear that somebody would turn around and tell him that his father was right, that maybe he deserved it, that maybe he did have a smart mouth and he did provoke his father all the time... that had never really been real, had it? He'd never really believed it.

Didn't really believe it.

Not really.

It had been... strange, to be hugged. Not unwelcome, just... strange. His mother had hugged him from time to time, but he always associated that with her eyes red from crying, and the slam of the front door when his father stormed out. His father rarely touched him at all, when it wasn't to use his fists.

At least Abbey didn't know. Jed was sure, from the sympathetic kiss Mrs. Barrington had placed briefly on his forehead, that Dr. Barrington had told his wife the truth, but Jed had specifically asked that he not tell Abbey. He didn't want her to see him through that distorted filter of pity. He didn't want her to see him as the poor beaten child; that wasn't him. He was more than that. He didn't want her to just feel sorry for him.

Thinking of Abbey; he knew it was her in the doorway behind him without turning. He liked to imagine that it was some special extra sense, although it was probably just the lightness of her tread.

"Hey."

"Hey." He offered her a wan smile as she came over to kneel beside him.

"How're you feeling?" she asked gently.

"Would you believe me if I said I was fine?"

"Not even slightly."

"Then why'd you ask me?"

"Aren't priests supposed to be honest?"

He closed his eyes briefly, thinking of all the ways he was lying to her, and the fact that it was ever more unlikely that he would get as far as taking his vows. Even in the dark behind his eyelids, he was conscious of her presence.

Abbey shifted, leaning part of her weight on the bed. "I'm sorry about Ron earlier."

He opened his eyes to frown up at her. "How is it supposed to be your fault?"

To his surprise, she actually contemplated the question briefly. "Because... I should have told him we were friends. I guess I didn't because with the hitchhiking and everything, he might... take it wrong. And so I didn't tell him, and he ended up taking it... even more wrong." She shrugged slightly. "I should have told him."

"And he should have trusted you. If I was your boyfriend, I would trust you," Jed said earnestly, and then he wished he could take the words back.

Abbey smiled, and made patterns in the blanket with her fingers. "How's your back?" she asked after a moment.

"It feels better," he said, mostly honestly.

"Let me see." She lifted the back of his sweatshirt, and ran her fingers lightly over the bruises.

Her touch made him suck in a breath and shiver. "You've got cold hands," he said. She did have, but it was still wasn't really the truth.

It was probably his imagination that made him think she lingered longer than she should have needed to. He could feel the ends of her hair tickle his back. "I'm sorry, am I hurting you?" she asked suddenly.

"No."

It's nice. But he didn't say that. Too many lines between them. Divisions that couldn't or shouldn't be crossed.

Abbey knew it too. After a moment she pulled away from him and straightened up. "So... I'll see you later, I guess."

"Yeah."

In the doorway she paused, and gave him a brief but brilliant smile. The image lingered with him long after she was gone.