Part 6

Benjamin Franklin once said "The person willing to give up his freedom for a moment in safety deserves neither freedom, nor safety."
What did he mean by that? Don't everyone deserve a little safety every now and then?
Maybe he didn't mean that we couldn't sacrifice our freedom, but what about a moment of it for a moment in safety?

Dalby's moment of safety didn't last forever.
The darkness came as soon as Flynn left. It had been a bit awkward when he had calmed down and realised he was crying to a stranger. Flynn hadn't acted weird afterwards at all, he almost acted like he had predicted this. That though scared the hell out of Dalby; could people really see he was a weak, crying loser?

What happened after he broke down was almost like a blur. He remembered Flynn patting his shoulder and being there for him when he cried. When he had calmed down Flynn had told him to lay down in his bed and rest.
He had been laying there, sobbing for a few minutes while Flynn was sitting, waiting patiently for him to calm down and talk to him.

The weakness Dalby had just shown proved to Flynn how human he was, and that he probably was a good boy deep down.

"You know, you're gonna be out of hospital soon," Flynn said, he secretly had been doing some thinking about what would happen to Dalby when he got out of hospital, but it was too soon to mention it, "What are you planning on doing?"
Dalby tried to shrug, but the pain in his shoulder made him give up.
"Back home I guess," he muttered, rubbing his shoulder.
Flynn scratched his chin, not hiding that he felt that wasn't a good idea.
"Are you sure your old home will be the best place for you to go now?" Flynn asked.
Dalby didn't answer, he just looked up and looked at Flynn for the first time since he had broken down. For once his eyes weren't hostile and angry, but scared and lonely.
"I mean..." Flynn hesitated, "It will probably remind you of your father and... whatever he did to you, and I'm not sure if you need that now. From what I saw earlier you might not be as strong as you have been trying to convince everyone you are..."
One step too far.
"Hey! You don't know anything about me!" Dalby shouted, but he still looked lonely and scared, "Just get out!"
"I'm not going to leave you alone in this difficult time," Flynn said.
"Just get out of my room and leave me alone!" Dalby spat back.
Flynn sighed.
"I'll give you some time by yourself, but I will come back to check on you later. I'm not giving up on you Dalby. I think you're making this a lot more difficult than it has to be, but if you can't see that then you need my help to open your eyes."
"I don't need your help or your opinion on anything!" he yelled back at him, but the words didn't affect Flynn like they affected the nurses and interns.
"Just tell a nurse if you need to see me, and I'll be here as soon as possible," he said, still staying calm. Dalby looked like he was about to answer back, but Flynn was quicker.
"I know you don't want me here now because you're scared and hurt and lonely, but in case you change your mind..."
He left before Dalby even got a chance to answer.

It was story repeating itself.
People claimed they cared, but did they really?
It didn't look like Flynn was Flynn after all, he had turned out to be Dr. Saunders, just another faceless person who thought he knew everything.
He had seemed so genuine, but the way he had looked Dalby in the eyes and told him he was lonely, sad and scared... All those words were just nice words for "weak" and it had reminded him so much of how his father used to humiliate him.
Looking him straight in the eyes, telling him he was weak, and couldn't do anything by himself... That was exactly what Flynn had been doing, just in a more gentle was than Owen.

Deep down Dalby wanted to believe, no he believed Flynn truly cared, but he was so scared of the humiliation and pain if he was proved wrong it was better to tell himself Flynn was just another impostor.
He was scared, and telling himself Flynn wasn't really on his side, and as long as Flynn had seen him cry and wasn't on his side there was only one thing to do.

Even if Flynn really was on his side the cops weren't, and probably not that old lawyer-hag sister of the diner-owner either, so it was better to run off.

He knew the streets in Yabbie Creek, but even though that seemed like his first choice he decided to go to the City.
It was bigger, and a lot of people in Yabbie Creek knew him from when he used to hang out in the dark backstreets. Some even blamed him for the death of a young girl some time ago, and Dalby knew they would do anything to send him to the slammer if they found out the police was looking for him.
The safest thing was to roam the streets in the City, stay different places and don't talk to anyone.


The first night was pretty horrible, and so was the second. But the pain would go away soon, wouldn't it? Even though his chest was screaming from the pain of the broken ribs, and his shoulder was still in a pretty bad shape he crawled into some old storage boxes outside a sushi restaurant and forced himself to sleep there.
It wasn't much sleep to get. He was constantly scared of someone finding him, and all his injuries didn't seem to get any better.
The more he hurt, the more he realised Flynn really cared.
A bloke who would let him cry to him, and then actually pat his shoulder and tell him it would be okay would never have wanted him to go through this.

Because of his condition Dalby tried to eat as normal as possible. Thanks to regular insulin shots and leftovers from a sandwichbar whenever the soup kitchen was closed he managed to stay alive and function.
But the pain was getting worse, and so did the guilt from leaving when Flynn wanted to help him so badly.

He didn't really have much stuff with him, just some stuff the police had dropped off for him at the hospital. It was a bag containing five dollars, a pen, some clothes and some other small stuff he hadn't really looked through.
There also was a photo in there. It was taken when he was five, and showed his father, mother and him in the middle smiling at the camera.
They had been so happy, they had been a family. His dad had ruined everything.
Dalby ripped the picture in two pieces, so now there was one with him and his mother, and one with Owen.
Still angry and hurt, Dalby looked at the picture of his so-called father before he picked up his green plastic lighter and lit the picture of Owen. Then he dropped it on the ground, so he wouldn't get burnt, watching it burn to ashes on the black, cold asphalt.

If the boy really was as tough as he claimed, he would have gone back just to prove he had the guts.
He was hiding, hurt physically and emotionally.
All Flynn knew was that somewhere out there a scared, lonely and confused boy pretending to be tougher than he really was, was hiding from his life.