"...chael? Michael, can you hear me? Squeeze my hand once if you can hear my voice." Involuntarily, the boy's hand twitched, grasping a smaller one that lied in wait in his palm, though he didn't dare to open his eyes.

No, not now.

Why would he when the black behind his eyes was easier to deal with?

At least, it would be without the extra noise that screeched at him, many voices that chided him, bombarded him.

Didn't they know just how much he'd fucked up?

Rustling and the knocking of objects beyond his reach enraptured him, but not enough to crack open the heavy lids that laid sealed shut, though he could scarcely catch whiffs of the young woman in his midst. Something like strawberry and lime that made his throat tingle with agitation, yet all the same, it was...pleasant.

It was funny.

The women that his Dad would bring home sometimes didn't smell this nice.

Maybe this time it wouldn't be so bad.

"Now, I want to make sure that I got your bandages right, so please don't move, even if it stings a little, okay?" Making no effort to move, Dash felt the cot fold under the weight of the unseen, though his breath hitched as his arm involuntarily jerked.

The boy convinced himself that it was from the pain, the sharp sting that flared at the lightest touch, but his heart knew better.

"I was bad, I was so bad. Is she...is she going to punish me?" Feeling as though he'd sink further into the solid mat beneath him, Dash steeled himself against the feathery touches, recoiling and regretting it in the same breath as a song of pain rang along his forearms.

"Michael, I don't want your cuts to open again, so I'm going to need you to stay as still as you can, okay? It'll only take a minute." For the smallest of moments, his blue orbs, dull and red, cracked open, and from them read the face of his mother, smiling down at him, where a young nurse, Bellworth, should have been sitting instead.

Yellowed teeth gleaming back at him as tendrils that wore as her fingers wrenched at the button of his pants. Fiddling, playing, prodding; too fast for him to stop her.

Laughing and squeeling like a pig as she tore his briefs away.

Taking whatever she wanted, just as she always did.

He would have tried to fight her off, to beg and plead for any shred of mercy, but now?

Right now he didn't bother, whimpering as he closed his eyes and allowed his once tense body to go completely limp, offering the whole of himself to whatever it was the young woman intended to do.

Fighting back only made it worse.

So he wouldn't.

She could do whatever she wanted to him.

Who would he be to try and stop her?

When Bellworth came to Amity Park High School, her outlook on her field was different.

She'd known that there were kids in this time that came from wealth, from privilege, high lineages that afforded them the care and space to bloom to their fullest. From the school she came from, when she was getting her education, she'd seen much of the same there, too; individuals that had their own problems, sure, but it was much better having issues when you had the funds to pay to have them taken care of than if you didn't.

Of course, there were dissenting opinions about her choice to come to Amity, her parents amongst the louder ones.

"Sweetheart, why in the world would you want to go to such a backwater town when you could go to one of more renowned private schools here, hmm? I mean, honestly, what could a couple of country bumpkin kids do to boost your career, what, with all of their hooting and hollering and such, right, Harold?"

Bellworth watched as he did exactly what she expected him to do, nodding absently along as he read his newspaper.

She and her mother would remain that way, always at odds even when she prepared to leave home, boarded the plan, and flew to Michigan, much to the dissenting opinion of her mother.

Her response to the older woman was always the same.

"But this is what I want, Mom."

"It's my choice where I go, Mom."

"You don't what's it's like there, Mom. I can choose what I want to do for myself, you know?"

Upon her arrival she knew there were areas that were struggling, that with the few families doing well for themselves, she would encounter others that were poor

Really, really poor.

But she never thought she'd see the things she saw.

Some with poor dental hygiene, clothes that didn't quite fit, skins covered in scabs and just in poor health in general.

Of course, it wasn't her right to bring it up to the parents, not to mention if she wanted to at all, remembering quite a number of times that she had attempted to bring it to their parents' attention but to no avail, many different reasons to blame.

Perhaps she couldn't contact them.

Maybe they didn't want to talk to her about something that didn't concern her.

Now, she knew that she would encounter thin, but knowing that there would be times that her help wouldn't be wanted, that sometimes a thank you wouldn't be given or even that they didn't appreciate her, that was what was asked of her.

Even if it is a hit to her pride, or she felt under appreciated, this was what she took on, and she would do her best.

No matter what.

Seeing him relax in her grip so suddenly should have made her feel at ease, working quickly as she dabbed his wounds with a disinfecting wipe, applying a sort of salve to aid with the prevention of infection, and wrapping firmly with a bandage and gauze, yet she could only gaze at his half-lidded eyes with concern.

Laying his arm back down upon the cot gently, she came to a stand, walking over the water cooler to grab a small cup and begin to fill it with the cold liquid, looking back every so often to check him, seeing that he hadn't moved, but instead, simply looked up at the ceiling.

Completely and utterly silent.

Walking back over to the cot, she knelt down and offered the cup to him, nearly face level with the boy when she really got the chance to look at his face.

Framed with sweaty golden locks sat a face that looked so tired, yet she couldn't deny the softness of his features, the delicate setting of his nose and jaw that made him look more...effeminate, only aided by long eyelashes that ensnared what she couldn't help but stare into: his beautiful, ocean-blue eyes, cut like lapis gems and served in the dull light of nurse's office, and even then, they seemed to glimmer with a sort of...longing.

A sadness that she couldn't make sense of.

A sadness that she had never seen before.

Edging the cup closer to him, he seemed to only just then take notice of her, turning his head to meet her green eyes, but upon trying to move his arms, the boy sucked in a breath, and Bellworth could have smacked her head in annoyance with herself as she remembered herself.

"Oh, right, sorry! How could I have forgotten about that; here." Easing it closer to his lips, she lifted his head so that he could quench his thirst, just barely missing the distinct flinch at her touch that caused a bit of the water to slosh out of the cup and into his nose, sending the boy into a coughing.

"Are you alright?! I didn't give it to you too quickly, did I?" The boy didn't respond, going to clear his throat before something seemed to shift in him, the boy's eyes closing shut as a strange smile split across his face, and he chuckled, though he didn't attempt to move his arms.

"Oh, me? I'm fine, Bellworth! Why cough wouldn't I be?" Dash went to sit up, only halting for a moment as his bandages clung to his wounds, looking at them for a moment before swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

Bellworth was still knelt at the bedside, but she came to a stand once more, still offering the cup to him when the boy declined, though she could see his eyes lingering on the fluid for a moment before looking elsewhere, that same smile caught on his face. Placing the cup upon a shelf near the bed, sighed, went to the door of the resting room and shut the door.

Pulling up a chair, there was a sort of still, sticky tension that clung to the very air around them, noticing the way that he seemed to watch her every move...or the way his hands seemed to rub at his bandages.

She could would have to bring that up later with his parents, if she got the chance to.

Pulling up a chair, the young woman sat down, brushing a strand of her chestnut hair from her face as she cleared her throat, silent for just a few moments longer before she began to speak.

"Dash, do you know why you are here. In the nurse's office, I mean?" Giving pause, she waited for his response, watching as he seemed to ponder this for a moment before shrugging, though he did speak up a second later, voice a bit lower.

"I'm guessing it has something to do with this, right? Oh, this is just a rash, you know?" Still, he smiled, gesturing to his arm with his hand, though he did suck in another breath, opting to rest them on his lap, and only then did she notice the splotches of blood on his pants.

"Well, yes, but I meant more like...what happened. How it became, I mean, why it got like...this?" For a moment, the young woman made notice of, he seemed to stiffen at the question, eyes stock still as his smiled twitched.

A hunch in her mind revealed itself, but she didn't want to jump to conclusions.

Dash looked down at his arms again, then spoke.

"It was, you know, scratchy, so I kept scratching it but I didn't think it would turn out like this, you know? People get rashes, right?" The boy said half-sarcastically, his hands still rubbing his arms, and still, he hadn't looked up.

Not that she expected him to, if what she thought was true.

"Listen, Michael,..." Bellworth began, placing her hand over his own though she didn't notice his eyes widen or his breathing begin to quicken, but as soon as she went to look back at his face, his smile returned, though it was smaller, less...jubilant.

"..., I don't want you to feel as though you have to lie or pretend when you're here. You came in here in pretty bad shape, you know? I just want to make sure that whatever...danger you were in, we can rest assured that you won't be put in that place again, okay?" Pausing, she mulled over whether that sounded too demanding, hoping that she could just get closer to what it was that had happened, though in her heart, she hoped it wasn't what she thought it was. Dash, remarking her face for a moment, almost looked...conflicted, eyes darting from one part of her face to another, then to his arms, and anything else before his voice came again, a little louder this time.

"Bellworth, I told 'ya. It was just a rash, and I may have scratched it a little too much, okay? I'm not sure what you're expectin' me to say." Moving his hand away, Dash went to stand when just appeared to notice something.

"Where's my jacket? Bellworth, where...where's my jacket?!" Coming to a stand, she noticed him wobble and drift, knowing immediately that a wave of nausea had just brushed over him from the blood loss, but he recovered quicker than she'd thought he would, though he did still cling to the shelf and wall, scanning the room for the varsity jacket, but to no avail.

The young woman stood, too, using her hands to try and ease the taller student but it did nothing as she watched him make his way to the door, slowly. It left her plenty of time to get there before him, blocking his way.

"Listen, Michael,-"

"Don't call me that. Never call me that." The boy said, his voice low, ominous.

Clearing her throat, she nodded, going to touch his arms when he pulled away a bit more forcefully this time, face scrunched with anger as he towered over her.

"Okay, Dash, listen. Your jacket is in the other room on the chair, it's fine, alright? But I have some serious concerns and I don't believe that you're being completely honest with me, okay? So let's just sit down and,-" Dash, his limp still fairly noticeable but somewhat better than before, came before her, cutting her off as his voice boomed over hers.

"Move. Now." Bellworth stood firm, though her expression was soft, hoping to just...just have him take a breath and talk to her, if just for a little while.

"Mich-," Freezing, she noticed his as his face darkened before quickly correcting herself.

"I mean, Dash. Just take a breath and I would really appreciate it if we could talk about this. I just want to make sure that...that there isn't more to this than you're letting on. I just want to make sure you're okay-" Dash's fist was sent into the wall, and she could see the beginnings of a red bloom erupt beneath his bandages, but the boy ignored it, looking down as his voice shook.

"I already told you! I-it's just a fucking rash, okay? Why can't you get that through your head?" From the hall, Bellworth could hear a few teachers at the door of the main nursing lobby, their hushed voices becoming louder as they began to knock on the door, but still she didn't move, though her heart hammered away in her chest.

She was very much afraid.

"Look, I can see that you're angry, and maybe confused, and made even a little sad that I had take it, but I don't appreciate the way that you're speaking to me. Not at all." To this, Dash seemed to be amused.

"Well, maybe if you weren't being such a stupid bitch and move, I wouldn't have to. Just let me through all fucking ready!" Motioning to shove her out of the way, Dash turned the knob and pulled the door open, walking steadfast into the hands of the school security guards that grasped at his bandages, causing the youth to cry out in pain as the red began to spread beneath them. Behind them, Principal Ishiyama, as well as the guidance counselor, Ms. Spectra, a serene look on her face as she watched him struggle.

"Let me go! I said let me go you assholes!" He struggled but it didn't do much but make his arms scream, so he stopped moving, though his hateful scowl didn't leave his face, directed, also, at Bellworth, to which she returned with a confused but saddened glance.

Ishiyama stepped forward, making no move to even acknowledge Dash as she came to Bellworth's side, patting her arm as she assessed her for harm.

"Sarah, are you alright? I know that Mr. Baxter can be a, how do you say, handful to deal with, so we're terribly sorry that it took us so long to come, but the situation will be dealt with...accordingly." Following this, she stepped in from of the fraught youth, looking him up and down before leaving with Spectra and the guards, none of them going to retrieve the jacket before they disappeared out of sight into the main office.

She had half a mind to call out to them, to return it to Dash, but...

That much could wait until another day.