It was a busy night at the hospital as well. Nick and Jacob were shown to the waiting room, where Nick failed to interest him in a Highlights magazine or a game of cards. The little boy had made himself as small as possible, his knees tucked up tight against his chin. After awhile Nick noticed him eyeing the gun strapped to his hip.

"Are you a policeman?" Jacob asked warily.

"Sort of. I'm more like a scientist." A copologist.

"But why do you have a gun?"

"Well, sometimes I have to deal with people who have done something bad and might hurt me."

"Like what?"

Nick fumbled for an age appropriate response for Jacob's question. "Well…sometimes people get angry at me, because they know they're going to go to jail."

"Because they did something bad?"

"Yup."

"Have you ever shot anyone?"

"Nope. And I hope I never have to."

"Has anyone ever shot you?"

Nick smiled humorously and shook his head. "No." For a moment he found himself flashing back to the box, the green glow and the gun clenched in his hand, the only thing he could feel besides the unrelenting agony of thousands upon thousands of tiny mouths chewing him alive and no one was coming, they weren't coming – he sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, relaxing the way he had practiced in therapy, and the moment was over.

"Is my dad here?" Jacob was looking up at him with pitifully hopeful eyes. "He got shot by a bad man. But the doctors could fix him, right?"

Damn it! Nick thought fiercely. I shouldn't have to do this! How the hell am I supposed to answer a question like that? "Do you know what happened to your dad tonight, Jacob?" he said tightly. Jacob shook his head. He pulled his knees closer to his chest. Oh god, I can't do this. "Did you see him get hurt?" Jacob shook his head again and Nick took a deep breath. He couldn't do it. Not here, in the middle of the waiting room; it just wasn't right. This isn't my job, damn it! Where the hell is child services?

He forced a smile onto his face and said the first thing he could think of. "Hey, what do you say we find a vending machine and get you a snack?"

"Okay!" Jacob's face lit up with the promise of sugar and he grabbed Nick's hand as they wandered into the hallway. Nick looked down at his little fingers, gripping his like a life preserver, and all he could think was this shouldn't have happened.

The nurse who finally called them in was a middle-aged woman with bright red hair. Her ID tag read Megan, and she spoke to Jacob in gentle, soothing tones as she carefully pulled off his clothes and got him into a hospital gown. He was even thinner without his shirt on. His ribs poked out worryingly, but there were no detectable bruises or scars on his chest or back.

"Say 'Ahh,'" Megan prompted, holding up a small flashlight.

"Say Ahh."

"…what?"

"You know. Ahhhhh?"

"Ahhhh!" Jacob echoed enthusiastically, opening his mouth as wide as it would go. Nick swallowed hard.

Megan chuckled. "You're doing a great job, Jacob."

"He sure is," Nick said with an encouraging smile. Jacob beamed up at him proudly.

"Do I get another candy?" he said eagerly.

"We'll see about that," Megan said, making a note on her clipboard. "Did you have dinner tonight?"

"Nope."

"What about lunch?"

"Uh-uh. Dad and his friends got pizza but there wasn't any left."

Nick and Megan exchanged a worried glance.

"Okay, buddy," she chirped, patting his knee. "We're going to get you some dinner soon. Can you sit tight in here while I talk to Nick outside for a minute?"

Jacob's hand shot out and latched onto Nick's belt. "Don't leave," he whimpered, his eyes threatening tears.

"It's okay. I'm not going anywhere." He folded his hand over Jacob's shoulder and shrugged apologetically at the nurse.

"Well, the good news is there doesn't appear to be any overt signs of abuse." she intoned quietly. "But I'm worried he might be malnourished. We need to run some blood work, and in the meantime he's going to need something to eat. Have you heard from Child Services?"

Nick shook his head grimly. "Nope. But I'm sticking around until they get here."

"Good. He seems to trust you."

Nick looked down at the little boy, who was surreptitiously tearing off a strip of the thin paper sheet covering the examination bed, and wondered what would happen when Child Services showed up.