A/N: Sorry for the long wait - I had a mild writer's block and was on holiday for a week so that got in the way a little. However, Chapter 4 is now here! Thankyou to MeggieGirl for reviewing regularly and to everyone who has added Shelter to their alerts or favourites. I appreciate it - it's nice to know people are out there enjoying my writing :) Now, without further ado...

Chapter 4: A Question of Understanding

After she had lain out her bedding for the night, Teresa made her way back over to Kimball to let him know what was going on. The teenager had still barely shifted from his position on the mattress and it was clearly becoming a safe spot for him,

"I talked to Virgil. He and I will be staying here tonight, so if you need anything you just find one of us." He nodded, "If we're asleep just go ahead and wake us up, okay? We won't mind." She smiled tiredly, "I'll be just over there," Teresa pointed to a mattress towards the entrance of the shelter, "and if I'm not, I'll be just through those doors in the canteen." Kimball yawned and nodded again, "Some other kids might come in during the night, so the light over by my mattress will be on all night okay?"

"Okay." He replied in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. Truthfully he wasn't at all keen on the idea. Anyone from the gang could just waltz in to the shelter and take him away if they figured out where Madeline had taken him, and the thought of them getting to him and beating him again made Kimball feel sick. Teresa seemed to sense this discomfort and squatted down in front of him,

"Hey," She said gently, "we won't let anyone hurt you." I won't let anyone hurt you. No one is going to end up like Tommy on my watch. "I know gangs are scary and dangerous-"

"Stop acting like you understand everything." The teenager said suddenly, "You don't know anything about gangs." She froze for a moment, the cynicism and level tone of his voice catching her by surprise. His words were like a punch to the face, and the matter-of-fact manner in which he spoke them only served to make them sting all the more. He wasn't to know, Teresa. He wasn't to know. She repeated the words like a mantra, over and over in her head in an attempt to prevent herself from breaking down there and then.

The moment the words left his lips Kimball knew he had said something which upset the volunteer. Teresa was frozen in front of him, eyes staring down at the floor but not really seeing what was there. Her whole body was tensed up as though waiting for a fierce blow to strike and, despite her effort to hide them, he could see tears gathering in her eyes,

"I'm sorry." The teenager murmured, not sure what he was apologising for. The corner of Teresa's lip twitched into a sad smile as her body relaxed and a stray tear wound its way down her cheek,

"It's okay." She responded in a slightly strangled voice which suggested that she was anything but, "You're tired and you're scared, and you have every right to be. You also have every right to question my understanding." She met Kimball's eyes. He could see pain and sadness mingling with regret and relief, but all emotions were quickly cut off again as she began to speak evenly to him, "I'll let you in on a secret." She told him, "I questioned Virgil's understanding when I first came here. I still do sometimes."

"Why?" The boy asked. It struck him as strange that the volunteer was uncertain of her co-worker's capabilities,

"I didn't think he understood what my brothers and I were going through. He kept telling me 'I know' and 'I understand', but I wasn't sure that he did. I still wonder about it, he never went through what we did, how could he understand what we were going through?" Teresa sighed, "Listen, Kimball, no one can understand every possibility or eventuality. But I guarantee that there will always be someone here who will understand at least part of what you're going through."

"How do you-?"

"How do I know that there will always be someone here who understands?" He nodded, "Because we've had a lot of teenagers come through here, Kimball, and each of them have helped us to understand what it is they're going through. Some of the other teens here will understand parts of what is happening to you because it has happened to them and Madeline, Virgil and I, we're not without our past problems. You just have to give us a chance." The teenager sat unmoving. Teresa's words were genuine and heartfelt, and he wasn't quite sure how to respond. The volunteer saved him the trouble however, "My younger brother Tommy was thirteen when he first joined a gang. I think he enjoyed the rebellion. It gave him an outlet for all the emotions he couldn't deal with. But a few years down the line I ended up in this free clinic... ill, and he decided that he needed to leave to be with his family." Suddenly Kimball could see why she had become so emotional after he had questioned her understanding of gang culture. Tommy had done exactly what he had, "So he told them, and you know what they did?" The boy barely had time to open his mouth before she answered for him, "They grabbed him, they held him down and they beat him to within an inch of his life. Then they left him to die." By now tears were flowing freely down Teresa's cheeks, the memories still sharp and painful despite the number of years that had passed, "If someone hadn't walked into that alley when they did..." She took several deep breaths to steady and calm herself, "You're lucky that you're here at all, Kimball, and not in some hospital bed or on some slab in a morgue somewhere. Believe me when I say I know what you're going through, and I will be here if you need to talk to me, no matter what." Stunned the teenager nodded, words failing him completely. Never had anyone been so brutally honest with him before and he found himself feeling touched that Teresa had shared such a bitter and painful memory with him in order to try and help.

Exhausted by her breakdown, Teresa once again wished Kimball a good night and made her way over to the well-used mattress at the shelter entrance. She was thankful for the relatively quiet night. No one but Kimball had seen her shaking and crying like a child and it wasn't until after she had calmed down that the other teens had begun to make their way to their chosen 'beds' for the night. By the time Virgil came over to see how she was doing her eyes were no longer red and puffy from the tears and she managed a believable fake smile, though her co-worker remained unconvinced.

Her mind wandered back to what she had told Kimball about questioning Virgil's understanding. She still remembered the first time the two of them had met and the onslaught of questions she had attacked the older man with and how she hadn't believed that he could possibly understand what she was going through. There were times when she still didn't believe, but she knew that Virgil had his own share of issues and, at the time, he had been the only person who truly understood any of what she struggled with. Now he was probably the only person in the world who could read her like a book and there would always be a part of her that was eternally grateful for that.

Please do review if you have the time. I appreciate any kind of feedback, good and bad, and I'd like to know what you like or dislike about the fic.

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Affy x