Secrets and Lies, DeanSam Recovers, part 1

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

He sat slouched in the corner, head back against the wall, peering out from under his eyelashes, legs streched out in front. If you were to causally glance at him, you would think he was taking a relaxing afternoon nap in a comfy chair. Having been here for four weeks, the doctors, nurses and orderlies knew that he was not in any way relaxed. He watched everyone, always had his back to a wall, never talking, and never getting close to anyone. The staff would greet him as they would any of the patients and he would duck his head with a crooked half smile and back away.

When he arrived, brought in by a trucker in the early morning hours, he was a mess. The intital exam had been a nightmare, he fought anyone who touched him, pleading not to be hurt but not to be left alone. 'don't hurt me, please stop, i be good, i your bitch, don't leave me' When the drugs took affect the total extent of his injuries was determined. Surgery for two hours, stitches for lacerations, bandages for cuts, wrap for the ribs, set the shoulder, immobilize the arm in a sling, and splint the knee, luckily no major damage there, and a rape kit done. Along with all his other injuries, he had been raped repeatedly over a period of hours; whoever worked him over left no part of him unhurt. Also, in their examination they found scars all over his body, fresh and old, and x-rays showed past breaks to his ribs, arms, fingers, and right leg, all had healed relatively clean. 'he must have been abused as a child and it seems the cycle continues,' Dr. Benson hoped that whoever did this to his patient never came back into his life.

He did not wake until the two days later, incoherent and disoriented. When the nurse went to check on him, he had gotten out of bed and made it to the stairwell before anyone found him. 'rungetawayrungetawayrun' It took three orderlies, two nurses, a doctor, and a heavy sedative to get him back in bed. 'don't make me come get you bitch' After that attempt to escape, he did not get out of bed again until his doctor told him he could. 'you made me do this, if you just cooperate and be good, it is all your fault' In the days that followed, the staff noticed that he watched them as the went about their duties. He rarely remained sleeping when anyone came into his room. He would flinch at any noise, loud or soft, he cringed back when anyone got too close, fear of being touched. With help from medications, he would reluctantly but fearfully let the doctors examine him to check his progress as he healed.

The police had no leads nor did they find the car. When the trucker gave his statment he could not remember anything else other than it was an older model, four door, dark colored sadan. The only evidence was the clothes he was wearing, rather hanging off him, a sock, right shoe, jeans, boxer briefs, and the rape kit, no matches were found in the system. He did not have any identification and his fingerprints were not in the system either, which was not surprizing for the police's system was ten years out of date. So the evidence was shipped off to the state crime lab, being a low priority the state took their time getting to his case. They could not circulate a picture because of the condition his face was in, even if someone knew him, he was unrecognizable. The only thing they had was a name, the one the trucker gave for him when he brought him in, Sam.

"Hi, Sam, how are you today?" asked the doctor, not expecting an answer, as he came into the dayroom. 'sam me, doctor nice, too close' Getting up from the chair, Sam nodded and angled himself closer to the doorway. 'don't run, bad, i be good, please' Looking around cautiously, he settled against the wall his head lowered, a crooked half smile on his lips, shoulders rounded and hunched, hands to his sides. Dr. Benson thought, 'how can a six foot man look so small?', as he stayed the four foot away that was silently requested of him. Looking down at his patient's chart, he wrote that Sam did not flinch at his greeting, an improvment. Dr. Benson had been Sam's medical doctor from the beginning along with Dr. Coizer, his psychologist, and knew the delicate balance that he was trying to maintain. He and Dr. Coizer had worked with a few rape victims before, thus understanding the trama the victims went through, but not to the extent that his patient seemed to have experienced. Being essentially a John Doe, there was no one to help him get through this, unlike the other cases.

His initial psych evaluation was not encouraging, Dr. Coizer had him moved to the psych ward to better care for him. He had not spoken voluntarily since that morning he was brought in and still feared physical contact. He also had nightmares which left him fending off unseen attackers, screaming at the top of his lungs, and gasping for breath. The first time that happened it had ended in him reinjuring himself trying to fight off the staff who were wanting to help. They had been instructed to stay away until he calmed down on his own then administer a sleep aid if he had not drifted off. The nightmare episodes are written in his chart, time, duration, and words spoken, for review the next day. It was noted that most of what was screamed during his nightmares were his name, some Latin phrases (an orderly taking classes at the university recognized those), pleas to stop and not leave him. During their sessions, when Dr. Coizer mentioned the nightmares, his patient would wrinkle his brow in confusion as to why he called his own name, 'me sam', give a look of fright at the Latin phrases, 'keeps away the bad, please Cristo', then get up to leave when the pleas were brought up, 'i, no, please, i can't, i don't know, stop it' The biggest challenge the doctor faced was getting him to speak, and Sam was not making any effort to try. 'talk bad, speak hit, words hurt'

"I see you are getting around better these days. Let me see, you are due for physical therapy at 3, Dr. Coizer wants to see you around 4, then the police would like to talk to you after that," Dr. Benson saw the confusion in his patitent's eyes. 'police, am i bad, stay away, can't get caught, you won't run from me again bitch, no' In his best non-threatening manner, the doctor explained the procedure to his patient. "They just want to show you some pictures to see if you recognize anything." 'be good, i be good, not bad, not bad' He ducked his head once more and took a step towards the doorway, hesitating. 'sam still can't be in the same room with someone for very long, but he did not leave, another improvment' noting that in his chart, Dr. Benson said goodbye and returned to his rounds.

After four weeks most of Sam's bruises had faded, the deeper ones now in ugly shades of yellows and greens. The swelling was gone from his face, it was determined that his eyes did not suffer any damage and his nose was out of the splint, it should heal straight. His ribs were mending as well as his shoulder and knee. He limped a bit, still needing to work it out, he would have problems with his knee the rest of his life.

When the doctor left, he relaxed a tiny bit and went to look out the window of the dayroom, studying the cars in the carpark. 'what is not here, what am i looking for, who is not here? where are you?' Sighing, he scanned the room again, turned back to the chair in the corner, then sat down and waited. 'i wait, i watch, i wait, i watch'

---------------------------------------------------------------