A/N: Longer chapter here. I couldn't find a good place to split it.
Unusually he didn't wake up until after nine the next morning. He hesitated outside Rusty's door for a moment, considering, but decided that he didn't want to risk waking the child again by checking on him. Instead he had a leisurely shower and an even more leisurely breakfast, eating toast and eggs with the paper spread over the kitchen table.
It was when he was starting on the crossword and his second cup of coffee that he heard a noise and the door opened a fraction.
"Come in," he called warmly, and Rusty silently stepped through.
It was difficult to tell beneath the bruises, but Saul thought he looked a little better than he had yesterday. Maybe a little less exhausted, a shade or two better than deathly pale. He was wearing the same clothes he'd had on yesterday though. Saul wondered if maybe in Rusty's mind those were the only ones he had permission to wear.
Well, that could wait until after breakfast. First things first.
"Why don't you go and get your cushion while I get your breakfast sorted?" he suggested.
Rusty shook his head immediately, his lips pressed firmly together.
Right. No breakfast. And it was coming up for twenty four hours since Rusty had officially eaten, and even though Saul knew he'd taken – and presumably eaten – a few things, he'd still be so much happier if Rusty would just sit down and eat.
He tried his best to hide his frustration as he went to retrieve the cushion himself, lingering in the living room a few minutes longer than he had to. Listening carefully, he thought he heard the fridge door open and shut. Good.
A few minutes later he headed back through, just in time to see Rusty frantically licking crumbs off his fingers. He pretended not to notice and instead laid the cushion on the chair. "Take a seat," he invited, and Rusty did so.
Quietly he put the cup of pills and a glass of water in front of Rusty, and was relieved when, again, Rusty swallowed them without protest.
He wanted Rusty to feel safe and in control, and really he wanted Rusty to choose to take the medicine, but the truth was if he refused Saul would have to find a way to make him take them. And he really didn't want to do that.
Quickly, he made Rusty some eggs and toast, noticing as he opened the fridge to pour him a glass of milkshake, that a couple of the leftover sandwiches from last night had gone missing. He made a mental note to make sure there was always something in the fridge that Rusty would be able to take.
"There we go," he said, laying the plate down in front of Rusty with a flourish.
Rusty sat hunched over it like it was some sort of punishment.
Suppressing the sigh. Saul turned his attention back to his coffee and the crossword, hoping that if he wasn't actually watching Rusty might be willing to eat.
But he didn't hear the sound of cutlery, and when he did look up, the eggs and the milkshake hadn't been touched. There was one less toast soldier though. Maybe that counted as a small victory. He bit his tongue savagely. Rusty might not be in danger of starving, but he had to be hungry.
Right now, though Rusty was gazing intently at Saul's newspaper, apparently reading the crossword upside down.
"Any ideas?" he asked with a smile. "I'm afraid I'm stuck."
Rusty looked at him warily for a long second, and then carefully picked up the pen in his left hand and moved round to the side of the table, keeping one eye on Saul all the time.
He hovered over a clue for a moment – 'King of the Empire, (4)' – and then painstakingly wrote 'Kong'.
"Of course," Saul said with a sigh. "I should have known." He smiled warmly. "Well done, though. Thank you. You like movies?"
Slowly, Rusty nodded.
"Mmm," he said thoughtfully. "Maybe at some point I'll take you and Danny to the pictures. When you're feeling a little better."
Rusty fixed him with a look of suspicion, evidently not trusting Saul's motives, but Saul just met his gaze openly and evenly. Eventually, Rusty was going to realise that there was nothing sinister behind this.
He looked down at the paper again. "Any other ideas?" he asked brightly. "Scale where F is highest, what do you think?"
Rusty hesitated for a second before scribbling in 'Gasgauge' and looking up at Saul enquiringly.
"Sounds good," he said with a smile. He glanced at Rusty's hand thoughtfully. "You know, you could start writing things down when you have something you want to say."
Instantly, Rusty dropped the pen with a tense frown, moving back out of arms' reach.
"I didn't mean you have to," Saul told him quickly. "I just meant you have another option, that's all."
Rusty shook his head, and Saul wasn't even sure exactly what he was denying, he just knew that somehow the moment had been lost.
He sighed. Rusty was pulling uncomfortably at his sweater collar, like it was subconsciously annoying him.
"Go take a shower," Saul advised. "And change into some fresh clothes. You'll feel better."
The look that came his way was a mix of gratitude and despair that left his head spinning.
While Rusty was in the bathroom he tried to figure out what they were going to do today. Tomorrow morning they'd have the meeting with the psychologist and the social workers and God knew who else. He'd have to tell Rusty as much as he knew about that. Not that he had a good idea what was going to happen, but he didn't want Rusty walking in there blind. And that would probably be a good opportunity for him to tell them what he figured Rusty needed. Get them talking about foster parents or whatever. Tell them that he'd seen nothing to suggest that Rusty needed to be locked up. Maybe he'd be able to pick up some advice at the same time. See if they had any ideas how to persuade Rusty it was safe to eat.
He frowned in sudden realisation. This was only a temporary situation. An emergency placement, they'd called it. He'd talk to them tomorrow, but it could be they were planning on taking Rusty away from him the next day.
The thought made him unexpectedly cold.
Not unless they had something else lined up that he could look at and say unequivocally that it would be better for Rusty. He had a duty to make sure Rusty was looked after, and he wasn't going to give that up until he was sure. And if the professionals thought different, well. He'd won them around before. He'd win them round again.
Besides, his initial argument still held. Rusty had appointments to see the doctors tomorrow and Friday, and it would be easier if he was close to the hospital.
Hopefully that should give him time to talk the social workers round to his point of view.
The doorbell rang shortly after Rusty reappeared, dressed in a plain grey t-shirt and dark sweat pants that put Saul uncomfortably in mind of what the other children in the institute had been wearing. As long as Rusty was comfortable, he supposed...
Danny was at the door, looking eager and carrying a large rucksack. There was no sign of his mother.
"Do your parents know where you are?" he asked Danny, once Danny was in and settled on the sofa beside Rusty.
"Dad's been away all this week on business and Mom went out this morning and said she wouldn't be in till late tonight," Danny said with a shrug.
"She left you alone?" Saul frowned, and maybe he'd only been a responsible par...responsible adult for five minutes, but that didn't sit well with him.
Danny shrugged again. "I'm twelve. Not a kid. I don't need taken care of."
Saul was inclined to disagree, but Rusty had turned to look at Danny sharply, a stricken look on his face. Saul frowned, but Danny seemed to understand perfectly.
"Yeah, I'm twelve," he said gently. "It's January, Rus'. It's been five months."
Rusty's face seemed to shut down.
"Were you in that basement the whole time?" Danny asked, an edge to his voice.
Saul tensed, not sure if Rusty was ready for that sort of question, not sure if Danny should be hearing the answer.
Rusty shook his head, somehow seeming to have shut down even further.
It might be a relief to think that Rusty hadn't been down there for the whole time, but he knew that it must still have been an unthinkably long time. Rusty really hadn't seemed to know how much time had passed. He supposed there wouldn't be any daylight, and precious few meals. Nothing to judge by. He shivered.
"Hey," Danny said gently, all his attention on Rusty. "Sorry. I shouldn't have asked." He reached out and laid his hand carefully on Rusty's wrist, and Rusty flinched noticeably and drew his hand away.
Danny sighed. "Sorry," he said again miserably, and Rusty looked up at him apologetically, a question in his eyes.
Again to Saul's surprise, Danny didn't seem to have any trouble translating. "Not much," he said with a shrug. "Mom and Dad were angry with me, and Mom said I didn't deserve a party or presents or anything. Not that I wanted anything anyway," he added. "But Dad got a cake from the store, and they gave me thirty dollars."
Saul was left frowning. The more he heard about Danny's parents, the unhappier he was. Who told a twelve year old that he didn't deserve anything for their birthday? And he knew the follow up question he should have asked, once he knew Danny's mother didn't know he was here, He should be asking if she'd forbidden it, but what the hell was he going to do if Danny said she had? Drive him back to an empty house? At least he knew Danny was safe here.
"I brought some things," Danny said, pulling some things out of a rucksack. Board games, books, a couple of toy cars and action figures. "Just stuff I thought you might like."
"Thank you, Danny," Saul said warmly, impressed by the thoughtful gesture as Rusty looked through the books and toys, wonder in his eye.
Again, Danny gave him that look, the one that suggested he was unused to praise and wasn't exactly sure what to do with it. It made him look like the twelve year old boy he really was, and it left Saul with the same burning desire to protect him that he felt for Rusty.
Rusty touched a book lightly, looking up at Danny, with a sort of wistful surprise.
"We never finished it," Danny said simply. "Thought you might like..." He stopped, smiling as Rusty nodded fervently. "Okay, then. You know where we left off?"
A second, as Rusty leafed through the book, and then he handed it back to Danny, who looked over at Saul anxiously. "You don't mind?"
"Of course not," Saul said immediately.
But Rusty was looking at him as well now, his expression guarded, and with a sigh, Saul picked up yesterday's paper and pretended to occupy himself with it. Unfortunately, it seemed as though the boys would be more comfortable if he wasn't paying them too much attention.
In reality though, he listened as Danny read. The story wasn't one he knew, but it was funny, and in the circumstances more than a little bit heartbreaking. A child who wasn't properly looked after and cruel adults who never listened. Seemed like it might be a little familiar to both boys, judging by the way they looked at each other at certain points.
By the time Danny closed the book it was coming up for lunchtime. Rusty was curled against the arm of the sofa, gazing at Danny sleepily.
Saul's breath caught in his throat.
Rusty was smiling.
Oh, it was a tiny smile in the scheme of things, just a slight quirk to his mouth as he looked up at Danny, but nevertheless...Saul had never seen him smile, and the sight made him warm inside.
He stayed quiet and didn't interrupt. Right now he figured this moment with his friend was probably more restful and reassuring than anything Saul had been able to offer so far.
Quietly he went through to the kitchen and took as long as he could fixing a large plate of sandwiches and a bowl of potato chips, and when he came back, Rusty and Danny were playing some game with the toy cars and the action figures.
He laid the plates down on the coffee table. "Help yourself," he invited cheerfully.
Danny grinned round at him. "Thanks," he started to say, but then he stopped, frowning and looking at Rusty.
Rusty's expression was somewhere between fear and obstinance, and he looked between Danny and the food.
He was scared for Danny, Saul realised dully. Whatever the issue was, he wanted to protect Danny from it.
For a long second the boys just stared at each other. Then Danny turned back to Saul with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Saul. I'm afraid I'm not hungry right now."
He nodded slowly, his eyes flickering over to Rusty. "Would you like something to eat?" he asked gently.
Rusty shook his head fiercely.
He nodded again, suppressing the sigh. "Remember it's there if you want it," he told both of them as he took some food himself, hoping it might encourage Rusty to accept it was safe. He half wished Danny would do the same, not least because now he had two hungry children refusing to eat. But he could understand that Danny's actions were based in pure loyalty, and he couldn't exactly argue with that. Instead he found excuses to leave the room, and afterwards, judging by the plate of sandwiches and the smallest trace of guilt in Danny's eyes, the smallest shadow of defiance in Rusty's, the boys had managed to get something to eat.
That was something at least. He just felt like he should have managed to do more.
He glanced at the board games lying on the floor. "How about we play Monopoly?" he suggested cheerfully.
There was something surreal about this, Danny thought. Not just the sheer unexpectedness of an adult sitting down to play a game with them, it was the way it almost felt...normal. Like if they could just relax a little more they'd somehow be comfortable.
It had felt like that all day. It had only been the little moments that kept him uneasy, like when Saul stood up and Rusty tensed, watching him nervously until he left the room and was no longer an immediate threat. Or the way Rusty had begged him to refuse to eat lunch. He hadn't been able to even figure out the reasons. Rusty had stared at him desperately, like he was trying to explain, but Danny just hadn't understood.
Some thoughts were too complicated to explain through their...thing, whatever it was. Or maybe Danny wouldn't have understood even if Rusty had been able to put it into words.
There were things he struggled with, after all. He didn't understand how Rusty could blame himself for what his parents did, no matter how often Rusty explained it. He didn't really understand why Rusty wouldn't talk. There was logic at work he couldn't grasp.
All he knew was Rusty was terrified at the thought of eating, and he wasn't going to argue. Then, when Saul left the room and Rusty quickly stole a couple of sandwiches and thrust one at him, an expression of pleading anxiety on his face, Danny hadn't been able to say no. Even though he didn't care for sneaking around behind Saul's back.
Rusty wasn't right, that was the point. He was lost and confused, and Danny could read the pain in every movement, and he could see the terror through the blankness in Rusty's eyes.
And yet they were sitting and playing Monopoly like there was nothing wrong.
He noticed with a slight smile that Saul didn't seem frustrated with Rusty not talking. He just asked questions, looked where Rusty pointed, and paid attention to the smallest clues. As far as Danny could see, Saul understood what Rusty meant maybe two or three times out of five. Far as Danny was concerned those were good odds, but it was more the patience involved that impressed him. Impossible to imagine his parents doing the same.
(He wondered, not for the first time, if he begged Saul to stay, would he?)
The game eventually ended in a draw between him and Rusty. He had a sneaking suspicion that Saul might have lost deliberately, though he wasn't exactly sure how.
As they cleared away the board and pieces, Saul leaned over the table, looking at Rusty. "I wanted to talk to you about what's going to happen tomorrow," he said in a low voice. "I was wondering if you would be more comfortable talking with Danny here?"
Rusty glanced at him for a moment, chewing on his lip. Then – slowly – he nodded.
"Okay then," Saul said with a warm smile. "As you know, Danny and me have already talked to the police about what happened. I imagine they've also talked to the other children and the staff, as well as Mayhew. But they need to hear from you."
Rusty blinked, wanting to know how, and Saul clearly read the same question.
"I'm not entirely sure," he admitted. "Apparently they have people who are especially trained to deal with these situations. I'll make sure they explain it completely before we go in, but I imagine that they'll want you to do stuff in order to find out what happened to you."
"Nothing bad," Danny cut in quickly. "Right?" He looked at Saul.
"Nothing bad," Saul echoed. "And I'll be there to make sure of it."
That left Danny feeling reassured. Maybe more reassured than it really should, but Rusty's face was closed down and that was worrying.
"I know you don't want to go over everything," Saul said gently. "But the police need to know what happened and the social workers want to assess you so they know how best to help you."
"Haven't they done enough?" Danny asked harshly, before he could even consider whether or not it was wise.
Saul sighed, and he didn't agree with him, but he didn't disagree either. "Right now they're trying to help. And we need to cooperate with them because they can find somewhere for Rusty to live. Somewhere safe."
He could understand that. He just didn't like it, that was all. And by the way Rusty was shaking his head, Rusty didn't even believe it.
"Anyway," Saul went on. "We'll be going round to the police station tomorrow morning for ten. And no one is going to be doing anything without talking to you about it first, Rusty."
There was a slight-but-desperate glint of gratitude in Rusty's eyes.
"Thanks, Saul," Danny said sincerely for both of them.
They watched TV for a while, and gradually Rusty dozed off on the sofa. Danny looked down at him worriedly. Rusty was so weak and exhausted, and Danny longed to pull him into his arms and look after him. But even if Rusty could stand that, Danny seriously doubted that Saul would be understanding and accepting.
He kept his distance and watched Rusty sleep. After a moment he realised that Saul was watching both of them. Embarrassed he grabbed his bag, planning on sorting his stuff, but in his haste he knocked it over and papers spilled out over the floor.
His school stuff. He grimaced. "Sorry," he said, as Saul came over to help him pick it up.
"Hmmm." Saul made a soft noise of surprise and disapproval, and Danny looked up quickly to see he was holding the letter from the principal.
He snatched it away quickly. "It's nothing," he said quickly.
It was just a letter to his parents telling them he hadn't been doing his homework, and he was failing all his classes and warning of consequences unless he cleaned his act up. And maybe it wasn't nothing but the point was, it was nothing he cared about.
Saul was looking at him intently and it was...unnerving. Suddenly he wasn't so sure he liked this close attention. "Oh, Danny," Saul said quietly.
"It's nothing," he said again, sounding just a little desperate.
"If you're struggling in school, there's things we can look at," Saul offered gently.
"I'm not struggling, I just don't care," Danny burst out, defiant and truthful.
Saul looked at him for a long moment. "Why not?" he asked, sounding curious rather than judgemental.
Danny looked away. "There's just no point to it," he muttered. He reached down and grabbed his science homework off the floor. "Look at this," he demanded. "When am I ever gonna need to know what makes up a plant cell?"
"I can't imagine," Saul said calmly, but then he leaned forwards and fixed Danny with a steady gaze. "But Danny...in all my life, I've never regretted knowing something. It's the things you don't know that'll get you. There's nothing wrong with knowledge."
He bit his lip. The simple concern in Saul's voice disarmed him. "I...when I was a kid, my parents moved me through a lot of schools," he explained awkwardly. "And then I met Rusty and we agreed if they let me stay I'd try in school."
"And then your mother took Rusty away," Saul said understandingly.
Danny ducked his head sharply, taking deep breaths. "What's the point in trying? There's so many more important things than school."
Saul sighed. "Danny...forgive me, but it's not your parents you're punishing with this. It's yourself."
He nodded shakily. It was true. Mom and Dad hadn't even noticed. And even if they did, they wouldn't understand. But it was just so difficult to care about school, and it had been so long now he didn't even know how to start.
"Why don't we take a look at this together?" Saul suggested, taking the homework out of his hand.
He stared. "You're going to help me with my homework?" he asked incredulously.
"Yes," Saul said simply.
"Okay then," he swallowed hard, as Saul guided him over towards the desk.
This was surreal too.
For a moment, when he woke up, Rusty wasn't sure where he was. Half awake, aware of the softness beneath him, he was convinced that he was back lying on the bed in the basement, waiting as Dr Mayhew kindly gave him the chance to rest up. For that moment he could smell Dr Mayhew on him, could feel the filth drying on his face. He was cold and alone and afraid, and he accepted that. But then he opened his eyes and reality was so much worse.
He could see Danny sitting at the desk in the corner of the room, and Saul was standing right behind him – too close, far too close, close enough to touch – and the horror he felt at the thought was like a punch in the stomach.
Not Danny. Oh, please, not Danny. Not ever.
With a soundless cry he was on his feet, throwing himself against the room, physically putting himself between them and shoving Saul away – actually touching him, pushing him even, and he knew there'd be hell to pay for that later, but he didn't care. Not. Danny.
They were talking – both of them – but he couldn't focus enough to make out the words. Panic and effort had left him shaken and dizzy. He felt himself sway and fall, and when Saul grabbed him he was helpless to resist.
He was lifted up and dumped back on the sofa and he cringed, waiting helplessly for what was to come, hoping against hope that Saul was only going to beat him and not use him. Not in front of Danny.
Not Danny. He'd do anything Saul wanted – let himself by used any way Saul could imagine – if only he'd leave Danny alone.
Maybe it was because he was broken inside and they'd had to stitch him. Maybe he wasn't any good anymore and that was why Saul had turned to Danny. That would make it all his fault. But he was good with his mouth! Dr Mayhew had even said so. He'd said Rusty had a talent and it made him seem almost clever – like a dog learning a new trick. If Saul would only make a move, Rusty would show him he was capable of pleasing. Anything for Danny.
There was no pain. No punches. No whip.
"He was just helping me with my homework," Danny told him, crouched beside the sofa. "Nothing bad was happening."
He lifted his head groggily, and he could see the agonised truth in Danny's eyes. Danny believed what he was saying, but then it wasn't Danny Rusty mistrusted. And even if Saul was helping with Danny's homework, why would he do that unless he was trying to catch Danny in the net of gratitude and obligation?
But Rusty couldn't explain that. Danny was good and clean and innocent – everything Rusty wasn't – and he wanted Danny to stay that way.
He ducked his head down so Danny couldn't see his eyes. Maybe he needed to stop being selfish and start pushing Danny away. Because he was so much less than Danny, and he couldn't say that Danny would be safe if he stayed near. On the other hand, he thought of the look in Danny's eyes on the doorstep when he thought Rusty had gone again, and he didn't know if he could put Danny through that. Danny didn't want to lose him.
There were worse things that could happen to Danny than a broken heart.
Still, he didn't know what to do.
"Are you still feeling dizzy?" Saul asked softly.
He shook his head quickly, not considering whether it was true or not. How could he trust the gentle concern in Saul's voice when the man hadn't even punished him yet? It made him nervous.
"I'm not angry with you," Saul told him. "You were trying to protect Danny."
He tensed at the implication that Danny needed protected, and he didn't really relax as Saul went on. "Danny is in no danger from me. I would never hurt him. Never. And I will not hurt you."
There was an air of expectation and he nodded like he believed the words.
"Why don't the two of you go through to your room to play for a bit?" Saul suggested.
That sounded good. Getting a bit of breathing space. He nodded gratefully and stood up patiently, and Danny made as if to take his arm as they walked through. He flinched away and carefully didn't offer the look of apology he might have.
"Saul really wasn't going to hurt me," Danny said once they were alone.
He shrugged.
"He hasn't hurt you," Danny persisted.
Rusty remembered the doctors in the hospital and kept his face blank and his eyes on the floor. No, Saul hadn't hurt him. But in his own way, Saul had made it perfectly clear that he understood what Rusty was for. And he remembered last night and the memories of Saul opening the door and watching him were cut through with memories of Stuart and James dragging him out of bed, until he almost couldn't be certain that Saul hadn't let them in to use him last night.
And, in spite of himself, he felt a stab of hurt that Danny was choosing Saul's side over his.
"Oh, Rus'," Danny said with a sigh. "'m sorry. I just think that he's a good guy, that's all."
Rusty wondered how he could begin to explain that the two weren't mutually exclusive.
"I want to come with you tomorrow," Danny announced abruptly.
Come with him. To what sounded like a therapy session or an assessment, or any one of his own personal nightmares. He knew how this worked. He'd need to show them he was worth keeping, and with a dull horror, he realised that he wouldn't be able to do that if Danny was there. If Danny was watching there was no way he'd be able to bring himself to be properly willing and grateful, and they'd throw him away for good. And worse still, maybe Danny would try and interfere.
Staring at the floor, he shook his head fiercely.
"You don't want me there?" Danny whispered.
He nodded emphatically, mind made up. He didn't want Danny anywhere near.
"I..I could wait outside?" Danny suggested hesitantly.
But he might still be able to hear, and he remembered Kenny Brewer and Carrie Everett, waiting outside Dr Mayhew's office to be caned while he'd been inside. They'd followed him around for days afterwards, sniggering and making little moaning sounds at him, telling him he had a pretty mouth. He shook his head again.
"Why don't you want me there?" Danny asked miserably.
Because Danny should be at school. Happy and safe among normal people. Because he could maybe accept what he had to do, but he didn't want Danny to see. Because every time Danny looked at him with that soft, desperate expression he felt all torn up and confused inside, and he honestly thought the hope might kill him.
"Alright," Danny said, defeated. "Alright. I'll stay away tomorrow. But I'm coming round to see you straight after school."
He wondered if he could get away with demanding Danny stay away altogether. But there was a wildness in Danny's eyes that had him reluctant to even try.
It left him feeling as he had so often before – desperate to reach out and give the comfort he was incapable of offering. Instead he turned his attention to the bag of toys at their feet and ignored Danny's pain.
The rest of the evening passed quickly and he rebuffed all of Danny's anxious concerns as gently as he could. A few times while they were playing he actually dozed off, and once he woke up with his head pressed against Danny's leg, his hand twisted in Danny's shirt, holding onto him. Danny was looking down at him with a desperate sort of intensity, like he was trying to make the moment last forever in his head.
Rusty sat up quickly, doubling over in pain as his ribs protested the too-sudden movement.
"Oh, Rus'," Danny said, his voice choked, and Rusty pulled away from the comforting hand on his shoulder, disgusted with himself that he actually found it a comfort.
"I'm sorry," Danny said quietly, his hands held stiffly against his sides, his eyes downcast, and Rusty looked at him hesitantly, trying to show his apologies, trying to tell Danny that it wasn't him, it was all Rusty, and he couldn't...he just couldn't.
It was already dark when Saul made dinner. Rusty didn't eat any of it, and thankfully neither did Danny. He managed to pocket a few things though, and Saul never even noticed.
After dinner they watched TV and he had to pinch himself not to fall asleep. He was warm, the pills were masking most of the pain, he wasn't starving, and Danny was sitting right next to him. Sleep was an easy trap to fall into.
Eventually Saul seemed to notice. "We should be getting you home, Danny," he said. "Do you think your Mom will be in by now?"
"Maybe," Danny said reluctantly. "I'm not exactly sure where she was going. But I can just walk or take the bus back, Saul."
"Yes, that's not going to happen," Saul said dryly. "I'm not letting you walk home alone, especially when we don't even know if there'd be anyone in."
Danny looked like he wanted to argue but didn't, and Rusty was relieved. They didn't know how Saul would react after all.
But Saul looked at the expression on Danny's face and sighed. "Danny...I just want to know you're safe, that's all. I know you think you're old enough to look after yourself, and I know your mother doesn't mind, but we all know there are..." He took a deep breath. "Evil people in the world. I don't want you getting hurt."
Huh. Somehow when that earnest, caring look was directed at Danny instead of him, it was so much harder to resist. He wanted Danny to be looked after. He wanted Danny to be safe. And yes, he still thought Saul had ulterior motives, but just like before, he liked the tone.
And certainly he liked the fact that Danny didn't have to walk home.
He hadn't fully appreciated how close Saul's apartment was to Danny's home. Probably if he was walking, it wouldn't take more than half an hour. That was reassuring somehow. Though as he remembered from the night before last, walking more than ten minutes at a time resulted in agony.
"Oh!" Danny sounded surprised as they pulled into his driveway.
Rusty looked and recognised Danny's father's car.
"Dad's home," Danny said, a mixture of pleasure and apprehension in his voice.
He smiled at Danny without even thinking about it. He knew how much Danny hated it when his father was gone for a long time. Danny smiled back, his eyes suddenly so much lighter. He must be looking forward to seeing his Dad again. Maybe he'd been away a while.
"He doesn't know about everything," Danny told him softly.
Oh. Of course he wouldn't. And he remembered how Danny's mother had looked at him and shuddered. One more person who could tell Rusty wasn't good enough. Suddenly he felt guilty again.
"Would it be easier if I went inside with you and explained?" Saul offered, looking at Danny in the rear view mirror.
Rusty shivered. He didn't want to be explained. He didn't want to be the nasty little problem Saul was in charge of.
But Danny nodded, looking relieved. "Yeah. Thanks."
Rusty hung back as Saul knocked on the door and Danny's father fixed them with puzzled looks when he answered. "Hello?"
"Mr Ocean, good evening," Saul said smoothly. "I'm Saul Bergman, Rusty's new foster carer. I'm just giving Danny a ride home."
"I...see," Danny's father said slowly. "I suppose you'd better come in." He held the door open and they trailed inside.
"Hi, Dad," Danny said softly. "I'm glad you're home."
"I'll talk to you later, Danny," Danny's father said warningly, and Rusty automatically took a step closer beside him in a gesture of silent support. Danny flashed him the quickest look of gratitude.
"I thought he was in an institution," Danny's father went on, talking to Saul but looking at Rusty, and he wasn't nearly good enough an actor to hide the look of apprehensive distaste.
"Not anymore," Saul said evenly.
"He never should have been," Danny burst out furiously. "I told you."
"Perhaps it would be best if we discussed this away from the children," Saul suggested.
"Right," Danny's father agreed, and they stepped into the living room.
"Are you going to be okay tomorrow?" Danny asked in a low voice.
He started to nod automatically and then hesitated, struck by the hurt on Danny's face at the lie.
For a moment he felt angry with Danny. He'd come to terms with this, for the most part anyway. He understood that he had no choice, he understood that people were going to use him and hurt him, but with Danny acting like it was the end of the world...it made it harder for him to pretend to himself that he was okay.
He was scared. He was scared of what could happen tomorrow. He was scared of going back with Saul tonight. He was scared of what Dr Mayhew was going to say when Rusty was sent back to the Institute, cos surely he was going to be furious that Rusty had somehow caused all this fuss.
And in spite of all that he had to be okay tomorrow, because whatever was going to happen would happen, no matter what he did. He couldn't fight and he couldn't run, and he preferred to stand on his own two feet, even if he was on his knees.
God, he was tired.
Saul had said being scared was understandable but he shouldn't worry too much about being used. That was the message he had to concentrate on. Not Danny's thoughts about what was and wasn't right in some perfect world.
He turned away and refused to look at Danny again, no matter how Danny pleaded. After a few minutes Saul emerged and looked between them keenly, a troubled frown apparent. But all he said was "Ready to go home, Rusty?"
Saul's apartment. Not home. He didn't have a home. The Institute was as close as he'd got, and they didn't want him either.
"I didn't tell Mr Ocean the details," Saul said quietly in the car. "I just told him that you'd been...badly treated there, that Danny had discovered it and that I was looking after you now. I suppose he'll hear from Danny's mother, but I didn't tell him, I promise."
Huh. He wasn't sure why Saul was telling him that. He was even less sure why it made his heart feel lighter.
"I told him that Danny could use someone to talk to. That he needed some attention and understanding," Saul added. His hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, and even as Rusty was tensing at the hint of anger he was wondering why. Maybe, just maybe Saul had noticed the way Danny's parents treated him. Maybe he liked it as little as Rusty did. Danny was special, after all. Extraordinary. He thought again about the concern Saul had shown... maybe Saul just wanted to do right by Danny after all.
Not that he could take that chance. The stakes were too high.
The rest of the journey passed in silence, and by the time they pulled up outside Saul's apartment building Rusty was so tired that he barely noticed Saul shepherding him upstairs, his hand hovering over Rusty's shoulder, almost but not quite touching.
As he had the past two nights he got ready when Saul told him to. Saul had bought some shampoo that was apparently specially formulated for children, and he figured he was supposed to use that for lube. Surprisingly it actually burned and itched less than the soap he'd used the first night, though he had noticed last night that it had seemed to dry kinda quickly, and he was worried just how effective it would be when...when the time came. Maybe if Saul took it slowly and eased his way in it would be alright. He made sure to stretch himself extra, just in case, and he opened his mouth as far as he could a couple of times, hoping to stretch his jaw too.
This would be the third night. Two full days and Saul hadn't used him once. And okay, so Rusty refusing to eat was probably helping by denying Saul an excuse, but he hadn't expected that to mean Saul wouldn't use him at all. Made him uneasy. He couldn't quite believe that Saul was going to wait until he was all healed up, because what would be the point? He'd just get torn again. Unless Saul just liked seeing where he'd been. He shivered.
No, he was left with the feeling that Saul was just toying with him. Waiting until he was lulled into being relaxed and properly grateful. Until he'd fully enjoyed all these things that he didn't deserve and he'd have to do whatever Saul wanted.
Dr Mayhew had made it all very simple.
It was after the first time his body had been used, not just his mouth. Dr Mayhew had just helped him get cleaned up. He was shaking...hunched over on the floor, staring up at the bed. He understood what had happened, he just didn't understand why it felt so awful. So much worse than any beating ever had, and he felt so wrong and so filthy, and he desperately wanted to find his voice, to tell Dr Mayhew that he was sorry, that whatever he'd done he was so, so sorry, and he'd never ever do it again.
"Come up here," Dr Mayhew told him with a soft smile, patting the edge of the bed beside him.
Slowly – involuntarily – Rusty shook his head, and he winced at the show of defiance. Dr Mayhew had said if he was a good boy he'd get a cup of soup as well as the bread. It was still sitting on the shelf over by the door, and he wanted it. He was so hungry it ached. He was so hungry he'd been falling over himself to do whatever Dr Mayhew told him to.
But rather than get angry Dr Mayhew sighed mildly and stood up, picking Rusty up off the floor like he weighed nothing, and depositing him on the bed before sitting next to him, putting a friendly arm over his shoulders and pulling him into his side in a warm embrace.
"There now," Dr Mayhew said companionably. "Isn't that better?" He rubbed Rusty's arm comfortingly and kissed his hair, and somehow Rusty felt dirtier than ever. No one touched him like this. No one except Danny, maybe, sometimes, and the thought made him feel sick and disgusting.
"It's always difficult the first time, but at least it was with me," Dr Mayhew went on. "I'll be patient with you, I promise. I'll carry on being gentle until you've learned properly."
This was going to happen again. This was going to happen again and that had been gentle. He bit his lip hard.
"Hey, now," Dr Mayhew chided softly. "Don't get upset. You did very well for a first time, don't worry." He stroked Rusty's hair gently before absently wiping his hand on the bedsheet. "You need to remember," he said, laying his hand on Rusty's thigh. "This is what you're for. Remember how we talked about you being a useless parasite?" He waited expectantly. There was no malice in his voice, none of the anger and disgust that Dad might have used. He was just stating self-evident facts, and eventually Rusty nodded. "Good. Well, this is how you can be of some use. Having men use you like I just did...it gives you a purpose. It prevents you from being a complete waste of space. Without being used like this you are nothing, understand?"
Dr Mayhew was looking at him sternly.
Rusty swallowed hard and stared down at the floor.
Being nothing was being locked up alone with no food or light, waiting to die. He understood the choice. This was like Dad's punishments, something he should be grateful for.
He nodded again.
"Good," Dr Mayhew said, sounding pleased. "Good boy." He cuddled Rusty silently for a moment. "I have to admit I was worried about you. I hate it when the children in my care prove worthless and you...well, there's not much to you, is there? You're not much to look at, you're of below average intelligence, you don't talk, and generally you're just distressingly dull."
Rusty flinched at the words. That...That wasn't true, was it? He didn't think it was. But it was the sort of thing Mom and Dad would say. And Dr Mayhew had sounded so certain, and the hand rubbing his thigh made it so hard to think.
"I bet your teachers always acted like you were stupid, mmm?" Dr Mayhew pressed, eyeing him shrewdly, and Rusty nodded, remembering. "And people have a way of overlooking you, don't they? That's because you look so vacant. People can tell you're subnormal."
He absorbed the words dully, feeling the truth of them. He was worthless.
"But when I was inside you, it was amazing," Dr Mayhew went on. "Your face just came alive. I've never seen anything like it. A remarkable transformation. Your eyes looked alive for the first time. You were obviously enjoying every minute of it."
No. No, he'd hated it. He had.
"Oh, maybe it doesn't feel like it now," Dr Mayhew chuckled. "But trust me, I can tell. Your body knows what it likes even if you, sadly, don't. If you could talk you'd be surprised to hear yourself begging for more."
The knowing tone in Dr Mayhew's voice had him hesitating, doubting himself. And people did beg for more when they were being used like he had been. So maybe...maybe...
No. He didn't care if he never spoke again. He wasn't going to let that happen.
"Trust me," Dr Mayhew said affectionately, his hand drifting up to play with Rusty's penis. "This is what you were born for."
There was an anxious knock at the door. Rusty blinked and realised that he'd forced himself into the little gap between the sink and the bath.
Hastily he crawled out and pulled on his pyjamas, trying to force the taste of the memory away.
This was what he was born for...
Saul had to use him tonight, surely, he thought anxiously. Otherwise, what would Saul tell them at the assessment tomorrow?
He stepped out of the bathroom and flinched as he saw Saul standing there, waiting for him, looking him up and down anxiously.
"Are you alright?" Saul asked. "You were in there a long time."
He nodded tersely.
Saul sighed. "Do you think you're going to be able to sleep in your bed tonight?"
He bit his lip and didn't answer.
"Well, give it a try," Saul encouraged, ushering him through to the bedroom.
Once again, Saul pulled the covers back for him, getting him to lie down and tucking him in. Once again, Saul didn't climb in after him and use him.
They hadn't at the Institute either, he reminded himself. They'd always come for him later and taken him out of bed. But there'd been other boys in the same room...not that any of them would have interfered or thought anything of it other than being glad it wasn't them...but at any rate, the point was there was no one here. Saul could do whatever he wanted and why wasn't he? Rusty didn't understand.
He waited until Saul turned off the light and left the room before slipping out of bed and crawling beneath where it was safer.
There was a spare pillow and blanket waiting for him.
He didn't understand.