Disclaimer: Don't own them, never will. Just borrowing them for my own entertainment, and making absolutely no profit doing it. Thanks to Angel for the bus idea. Carl does deserve it. Maybe it will happen someday.
Too Young
Chapter Twelve
Jenny Visits
Lucas didn't stir when Katherine led Mike and Anne into his room. He didn't wake when Anne began crying…didn't open his eyes even when Mike took his hand and Anne stroked his cheek. They sat with him until the nurse gently kicked them out so she could check Lucas' incision and vitals.
They waited in the hall, numb and unspeaking—shocked by the sight of him. Katherine had tried to warn them about how bad he looked, but they still weren't prepared for it. How…could anyone do this to him?
"Mike. I've got to call the house. One of us will need to go home soon."
He nodded. He was thinking. Katherine had said that counseling would be a requirement for Lucas if he were to continue to stay with them. She would be calling him in a week to see what he had arranged. He did have someone in mind. He knew that Andrew would be good for Lucas, and he was licensed. He would meet social services' standard. He didn't foresee any problem with Katherine on that. But Lucas was reluctant to discuss his past, and he didn't want to force counseling on him. What good would it do then? Perhaps Jenny should talk to him. She'd met with Andrew for a few months after her parents' death, and it had helped her immensely. Maybe that would be the way to convince Lucas—through Jenny.
Anne came back from using the vidlink. She had been crying again. "Jenny's on her way here. Mark and Tyler are driving her…they were all so worried. They saw the blood on the bathroom floor and on the towel. I…I should have called earlier. They were about to call the police, Mike."
He hugged her. "Neither one of us have been thinking about anything but—this, Anne. I should have left a note. What did you tell them?"
"Just that Lucas was injured, and we would be here with him for awhile. Mike…we need to call his father, too."
He grimaced. "I want a chance to talk to Lucas, first. Anne, what do you think about asking Jenny to talk to him about counseling?"
She looked startled, then comprehension dawned, "Oh, you want him to see Andrew?" She had leaned against the wall next to him, and now she drummed her fingers nervously against her thigh as she considered it.
"Mike, Jenny—may not be able to handle seeing Lucas right now. I…I…guess it would be all right to ask her, depending on how well she handles this."
He knew what her concerns were, and he shared them. Jenny's parents had died as a result of an automobile accident. Jenny's father, Ryan, had died instantly. But Jenny had experienced three days of watching her mother suffer in the ICU, before a blood clot broke off from Mary's liver and killed her. Mary had had severe abdominal injuries, and she had been bruised extensively….much like Lucas was now. But Mary had never awakened. Both Mike and Anne had been with Jenny for two of those days, having been notified by the hospital when Ryan and Mary were admitted—Ryan to the morgue and Mary to surgery. They had been told to hurry, that Mary was not expected to live either. Mike had driven to the hospital that night, listening to Anne as she tried to come to terms with her brother-in-law's death and her sister's grave condition. When they arrived at the hospital, Jenny wouldn't speak to them at first. She'd been sitting with a nun, one of the sisters of Mercy who worked there. Jenny's eyes were swollen and sore, but when she finally recognized that her Aunt Anne and Uncle Mike were there, with her, she latched onto them, especially Anne.
In the days following the funeral, Jenny stuck closer to Anne than her shadow, and at night, Anne held Jenny for hours after the girl woke screaming, reliving in her imagination the accident that she'd never seen. Jenny needed so much from them both, but all their care and love was not enough to banish her nightmares and her insecurity. Jenny was scared to let them out of her sight. After two months of interrupted sleep and clinginess, the three of them were exhausted. Mike had broached the subject of counseling immediately following the funeral, but, at the time, Anne thought all Jenny needed was their attention and love to heal. Anne was more receptive to the idea now, and Mike recommended Andrew, who Jenny's father, Ryan, had known in college.
'Brother Andrew' Ryan and Mary had called him in their letters home. Brother Andrew, who spoke with a soft Irish lilt and had kind eyes. He had a divinity degree from Harvard and a doctorate from UCSF in Child Psychology. He was licensed through the State of California and had an office at the Memorial Church on Stanford's campus. When he completed his divinity degree, he had decided that his calling in life was to counsel people, 'hurt in life's storms,' as he had said in his soft slow voice. Jenny loved him. In his office, while holding Anne's hand, Jenny had been able to unload her guilt about the anger she felt toward her parents. They had left her when she still needed them, and she had felt abandoned. She was so angry, and she felt guilty for it, for being alive when they were dead. Andrew had listened, his bright blue eyes warmly attentive. He had just let her talk, had let her say everything that she was thinking and feeling, until she ran out of words. He didn't judge her, but accepted her feelings as valid. Then he began to talk to her about his memories of her father, Ryan, and her mother, Mary. He had met them both at Harvard, and they had become good friends, sharing dinners at least once a week. He had a way with words, and told funny tales of the threes' shared past. As he talked, he began to cry. First one tear, and then many, but his voice never wavered. Jenny noticed his tears, and began to cry too…softly at first, then sobbing heavily. When he took her hand, she choked out what had been poisoning her heart—she had had a fight with her mother the night before the accident. In the middle of the argument, she had wished aloud that Mary would stop interfering with her plans, would just get out of her life. She sobbed out, 'I guess I got my wish, didn't I? I…deserve to die, too. What kind of person am I?' That confession started a long series of healing conversations, where Andrew was able to lead Jenny to accept her parents' deaths, and to forgive herself for the heated words said to her mother. He was able to show her that she hadn't really meant what she had said, and her mother Mary had known that.
He had suggested that Anne and Mike take Jenny to her parents' gravesite, and they had done so the next day. All three of them cried as Jenny knelt there and placed a wreath on the shared stone. Jenny traced the letters of her mother's name with her fingertips and asked Mary to forgive her. That night, Jenny slept through for the first time since the accident—no nightmares. She had had very few of them since then.
Mike and Anne looked up when they heard hurried footsteps down the hall. Mark, Tyler, and Jenny walked quickly toward them. "How is the kid?" Tyler said, his voice soft. "We left a note for the others—they weren't back yet."
"Aunt Anne, is…will…he be all right?" Jenny's voice broke halfway through, and Mike pulled her toward himself, hugging her gently.
"Jenny, guys, he's…been hurt pretty bad. We've been in to see him already, but he was sleeping. The surgeon says he'll be O.K., though." He tried to smile, but it didn't come out as comforting as he had intended.
Mark had been studying him carefully. "Why a surgeon? What happened to Lucas?"
Mike swallowed heavily. "He was vomiting blood when he was dropped off at the house. Whoever gave him the ride didn't stick around. Anne noticed him struggling just to get to the front door. We rushed him here when we realized what was going on."
Most of the color had left Jenny's face. "Uncle Mike…what happened to him? Why…why was he bleeding internally like that?"
"Jenny, at his mom's house, somebody beat him, abused him. His…his small intestine, his kidneys, the lining of his abdomen.."
"The peritoneum?" Mark and Tyler asked together.
"Yes. It had torn, and his intestine had ruptured. His kidneys were bruised." He stopped, concerned about his audience. The two boys were not as close to Lucas as Jenny or Viktor, but both looked sick and worried. Mark had his hand over his mouth, and Tyler's face was pinched and white. Jenny was rigid with shock.
"Who…did it?" Mark asked, his voice full of anger. He looked ready to hit something, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
"We…don't know.
Lucas won't say, at least he wouldn't to Katherine—she's from Social
Services." He hastened to explain further. "The hospital called Social Services when
they saw the bruises on Lucas. She's
the representative who was here earlier interviewing him. He wouldn't cooperate and tell her who it
was, but at least we were cleared…"
"What! They suspected you
guys? They thought, they actually
thought that you or Anne would do that to him?" Tyler was incredulous, and Jenny looked angry now.
"Well, we were the ones who brought him here. I guess we were the likely suspects—for a little while anyway. Don't worry about it; Lucas cleared us." Mike tried to laugh a little about the idea.
"Can…we see him?" Mark asked. "and when we do, should we try to talk to him about it, you think?"
Mike shook his head. "I think we should let Lucas talk about it when he's ready. Katherine told us that Lucas would need to see a counselor right away, so I'm supposed to set that up."
All three of them shook their heads, but it was Tyler who spoke. "Oh, man. The kid is going to hate that. You know how he is about giving out any personal information, and that's to us….we know him. What's he going to be like with a stranger?"
"I don't know, but we do have to try. You can go in to see him when the nurse gets done in there, but don't push him to talk now. He…he looks really bad, guys. Please, when you see him, keep in mind that the doctor did say that he will be all right."
Jenny was still very pale, but she said firmly. "We'll make sure he's O.K. And we won't push him to talk, Uncle Mike." The boys nodded their agreement.
When the nurse left, Mike and Anne led the three young people into the room. Lucas was turned away from them, and the sheet covering him had fallen to his waist. The hospital gown he now had on was tied loosely, and a large section of his back was visible. "Oh God…" Mike said softly. He had temporarily forgotten the surgeon's statement of much earlier: that 'he'd seen marks like that before. This child had been whipped.'
"What?" Anne started. Then she grabbed his arm, and turned slightly away so she couldn't see…that…She looked at the kids instead.
Mark and Tyler had frozen a few feet away from the bed. Anne could see Tyler's shoulders shaking and knew that he was crying. Mark's face was turned toward the bed, but Anne could see his jaw clench so hard that the bones stood out in white relief just under his skin.
Jenny was swaying slightly, and, concerned, Anne stepped forward to her. She was afraid that the girl would collapse. Jenny looked grateful for her support, and squeezed her arm, but then she walked forward past the boys and sat down on the edge of the bed. If Lucas felt the bed shift, he did not respond. Jenny took the sheet and pulled it up over him, resting her hand on his shoulder. She turned back towards them, and her eyes were overflowing.
"Uncle Mike….what happened?" There was so much sorrow in her voice, so much bewilderment. She could not imagine how any person could treat another like this. And Lucas, oh God…how could anyone hurt him? He was the sweetest kid she'd ever known. She began to stroke the hair on the back of his head. She wouldn't have known what to say to him if he had been awake. Jenny felt slightly relieved that he was still sleeping.
"I'm…sorry. I had forgotten for a little while that the doctor mentioned those scars. It's one of the reasons that Social Services was called." Mike looked apologetically at them all. "I should have remembered, so I could have warned you…"
"I don't think it would have made much of a difference. How prepared can you be to see that?" Mark's voice was a curious mix of disgust, outrage and sorrow. "Let me guess. The same asshole who put him in here now did this to him some time ago?" His voice had risen in his anger.
"We don't know, Mark… and please keep your voice down. We don't want to disturb him." Anne spoke softly, but firmly.
"Sorry." Mark whispered. "I…I just want to see this creep punished…maybe we could run him over very, very slowly with a bus, that sounds fair."
"How about two buses?" Tyler smiled slightly.
"Or three?" Jenny added with a small soft laugh. She stopped abruptly when Lucas' head shifted under her hand. He was turning over onto his back, so she moved over slightly, giving him more room.
Anne and Mike stepped forward now, one on either side of Jenny, and Mark and Tyler walked around the bed to the far side by the window. Lucas' cheeks were flushed with sleep and fever; his eyes were still closed, but he showed signs of waking up. His forehead had furrowed slightly, and they could see his eyes moving beneath his eyelids. He still had dark circles under his eyes, and his face was thinner than it had been a few days ago. It looked like he hadn't slept or eaten much since he had left the house four days before. Mike took his hand and squeezed it gently. "Hey buddy. We're here with you. It's O.K., you're going to be all right. You just need to get well quick so we can get you out of here."
Lucas' eyelids opened slowly. His eyes were clouded with pain and fever, but his gaze sharpened slightly when he saw them all. "H..Hello." He tried to smile, but it twisted into a frown when he moved and jarred his abdomen.
"Are you hurting? Do you want me to get the nurse?" Anne asked him gently.
He shook his head slowly. "I…I'll be fine. It…it doesn't hurt that bad, now." He managed a stronger smile. "What was wrong with me?" He gestured down to his midsection.
"You were bleeding inside and it had to be stopped. The surgeon says he repaired it all and you'll be fine." Mike gave what he hoped was a reassuring summary of the damage. He didn't think Lucas was quite up to hearing just how close he had come to bleeding to death.
Lucas searched his face. He saw Mike's fear for him, and was sorry that he had put it there. Mike and Anne were great, and they didn't deserve to be dragged into his problems. He sighed, suddenly very tired again.
Anne noticed. "I think you need to rest, and you won't do that with all of us standing around you, will you? One of us should be plenty of company for a while. Who would you like to stay with you for the next few hours?"
Lucas glanced at Jenny first, but then said hoarsely, "I…I don't care. You should all go get some rest. I…I'll be all right here by myself…really. You've done enough…you do enough for me…you don't need to stay here with me, too."
Mike patted his arm. "I know that you are not used to having so many people care about you, Lucas. But you're stuck with us, so get used to having us around. We have no plans to go away and leave you alone. I think we'll leave Jenny here for now, and then Anne or I will come back in a few hours and spend the night here with you."
Lucas just looked at Anne, and then over to Mike. Finally, he nodded his agreement. He didn't understand why they would do this for him. He wanted them to; he didn't want to be left alone, wanted them near him, but he couldn't fathom why they would do this—for him. He tried to reason it out, but he was so tired. He barely felt Anne's kiss on his forehead or heard the soft good-byes from Mike, Tyler, and Mark. He wanted to tell them all what their caring meant to him, but the words wouldn't come. He didn't realize that he was crying, crying as he fell asleep with Jenny still there, holding his hand.
Jenny looked at the sleeping boy. She felt helpless. Helpless to say or to do the right thing for Lucas. Before she had left with Uncle Mike, Aunt Anne had offered to stay with her, but Jenny had refused. She wanted to be alone with Lucas, to sort out her feelings. When Aunt Anne had called, and told them that Lucas was hurt, Jenny's emotions were almost as strong as when the police came to get her after her parents' accident. This surprised her. She knew that she liked Lucas, but she hadn't known that she would feel this…horrible about him being hurt. And when she had arrived here, and had learned that he'd almost bled out, almost died, her heart felt like someone had turned it sideways within her, and expected her to keep going on as usual. The pain was physical. It hurt to look at him and to know what had happened…and what had almost happened.
Uncle Mike had told her about the counseling requirement from Katherine. And Andrew had come to her mind immediately as well. She readily agreed to discuss it with Lucas if he woke up and felt like talking.
For now, she sat and let her eyes travel from Lucas' face to his hands, then back up to his face; she was searching for any sign of alertness, any sign that he was ready to wake up. She held his right hand between hers, and thought about his back, about those darker stripes crossing the smooth surface of his skin. How had he survived that? It must have hurt like…she couldn't imagine how much it hurt him. No wonder he didn't talk about his family. There were horrors in his past that she couldn't understand.
She began whispering to him, even though he was sleeping. She felt uncomfortable with the silence now. "Lucas. It's Jenny. I'm here with you. I'm holding your hand. Can you squeeze mine? You've got a fever now, and the nurse says that it will take a little while for that to go away. They're giving you antibiotics to help your body fight it. I wish that you'd wake up…even though I have no idea what I could say to you to…to…help you feel better."
Her voice got gradually softer until it was inaudible, and she was blinking back tears. When the nurse had come in a few minutes ago to inject the antibiotic, she had uncovered Lucas to cool him off. Jenny had gotten her first glimpse of his stomach. She had almost cried out with the shock of it, but she bit her lip and stuck by the bed. The nurse had smiled at her then.
"I know that it looks terrible, but he is going to recover. He will be just fine. Will you be here for a while?"
At Jenny's nod, she had continued. "Here is a cup of ice chips. He's getting fluids through his IV and won't be able to take anything by mouth for a day or two, but when he wakes up, his mouth will be really dry. You can give him as many ice chips as he wants."
She patted Jenny's arm and took a plastic spoon out of her pocket, putting it beside the cup of ice. "Just push the button if he needs something."
Jenny nodded again, still not trusting her voice. The nurse left quietly.
Jenny's fingers gently trailed across the bruises not covered by the bandage. How she wished that she could erase them, erase the pain and anger and fear that caused them to be here. Lucas' skin felt hot under her hand. She prayed that his fever would come down soon. She found herself remembering another hospital room, sitting by another bed, and watching her mother fight a losing battle for her life.
She leaned toward the bed, moving her chair closer, and laid her head next to Lucas' side. She wept. She cried for Lucas, and for herself. She missed her mom fiercely at times, and being here had brought all the feelings of sadness and terror to the surface once again. She felt so alone in the world, and she had the thought that if her mom were here, this would all be better. Her mom would know how to help Lucas. Jenny knew that this was irrational, wishful thinking, but those thoughts followed her into sleep as her eyes closed. She slept, her body leaning on the bed. Her head rested on her right arm, next to Lucas' side, and her right hand still clasped his.
An hour later, Jenny was startled awake when Lucas shifted, groaning softly. She sat up slowly, her shoulders and neck stiff from the awkward position she had slept in. Lucas' face was shadowed with pain, his mouth turned down slightly, and his head moved restlessly on the pillow. Jenny leaned forward and stroked his hair back from his sweaty forehead. He didn't feel as hot anymore. Maybe his fever had broken.
"Shh…It's O.K., Lucas. You're going to be all right." Unknowing, she copied her uncle's words as she tried to soothe him.
Lucas' eyes opened. He blinked a few times to clear his vision and then he smiled at her. She smiled back. She loved his smile. It was a little crooked, but it was so…beautiful. It transformed his whole face, and showed exactly what he was feeling. Right now, he was very happy that she was there. She winked at him, and his smile brightened.
"…Jenny…" He croaked. His voice was shaky and his throat sounded so dry. He tried to swallow, but there was little moisture in his mouth. He started to cough, and his face twisted in pain at the movement.
"Here. The nurse left this for you." She fumbled with the first piece of ice, clumsy in her hurry to help him. It dropped on the floor, and she blushed. "Oh, I'm sorry, Lucas…"
The next piece made it safely into his mouth and his coughing eased. He sucked on the small cube, half closing his eyes with the relief that it brought. "Thanks…I…I dreamed about you…that you were here. And here you are."
She took his hand, smiling shyly at him.
"Jenny…what time is it?" Lucas was feeling disoriented and a little sick. His stomach burned after the coughing, but it wasn't as painful as the last time he was awake.
"It's ten o'clock at night, Friday night. Are you feeling any better? I…I…think that your fever is going away."
He nodded at her, studying her carefully. "Are…you O.K. Jenny?" He had noticed that she had been crying. He reached toward her with his free hand, touching her face, where it was tear-stained. She released his hand that she had been holding and covered the hand on her cheek, holding it tightly to her face.
"Oh, Lucas. I…we…were so worried. I'm so sorry. I…I…it is so hard to see you—my best friend—so hurt, and hurt so badly by…by…someone that you should be able to trust." His hand felt good on her face, like it fit there, like it belonged there. She knew that she was crying again, because he began to move his hand under hers, wiping her tears away.
"Don't…Jenny…don't cry. I'm all right. I'll be O.K., Jenny…don't…I…I…Please…don't cry."
She sniffed, and smiled weakly at him, releasing his hand. He looked at her. He…he looked worried….about…her?
"Jenny…it's all right. It will be all right." His voice was stronger now, but his words didn't convince.
"NO! Lucas…it won't be all right. You…you almost died. I almost lost you. I…I..can't even imagine my life without you now. And…and that Social Services worker thought…thought that Uncle Mike had done this at first." She looked down at his stomach and then up quickly. She felt so sick. "Oh, Lucas, you almost bled to death tonight."
Jenny twisted the sheet in her hands, looking down at the bed. Lucas reached again for her, lifting her face so she was looking into his eyes.
"Jenny…I'm sorry." His voice wavered a little. "I…I…need you to be my friend, but I don't want you hurt…or Mike or Anne. I…I…don't want to leave the house, but …but..maybe that would be the best thing for you….and them. You don't need my proble…"
Jenny placed her fingers firmly over his mouth, stopping him. "Lucas, you little idiot." Her eyes were flashing. Lucas thought she looked gorgeous. "Lucas, we are involved. We care about you. Part of that is hurting when you hurt. Don't you understand that?" She removed her fingers, uncovering his mouth…and…then kissed him quickly, her lips pressing down where her fingers had been seconds before.
His eyes widened, and he smiled, just a little. Jenny's face was red now, but she held his gaze. 'She likes me' he thought. He searched her face and saw that she wasn't really as angry as she had sounded. She cared about him. He was lying here in a hospital bed, his stomach hurt, and his ugly past was coming to light. But…Jenny liked him. He was….happy? Yes. He was very happy. He was getting tired again, but he felt…more peaceful, somehow. Jenny was here with him, holding his hand, and she liked him. She'd just kissed him. He could still feel the firm cool pressure of her mouth on his. He smiled at her as his eyes blinked sleepily.
This time, when he fell asleep, he was smiling softly, bringing the thought of Jenny's kiss into his dreams.
Next: Counseling Session.
To be continued…