A/N: Okay, I feel bad about all my drama lately, so I put this on the fast track... Enjoy.
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I was sure, for a moment, that I was going to either throw up or faint, and I prayed desperately that neither would actually happen. I was totally unprepared to deal with what Dr. Bryant had just asked me, and I was sure that, no matter what I said, it would be the wrong thing and I would be sent away to live in a foster home somewhere. Thankfully, as I closed my eyes and wished the entire situation away, Darry had the sense to say something, lest our silence be misinterpreted as some sort of confirmation that what he was asking about was, indeed, true.
"You can't be serious… None of us would ever hurt her," Darry said, something akin to anger in his voice. He took my hand and squeezed it, as I tried frantically to think of what to say, fear taking over completely, to the point that I wasn't sure I'd be able to talk at all.
"I certainly hope that's the case, Darrel," Dr. Bryant answered, "but I'd like to hear an explanation from Scout, if you don't mind."
I was already starting to tear up, the panic that I wouldn't have good enough answers just about killing me. But I was afraid that crying would be a bad thing to do, as well, and I bit back my lip, willing the tears to stay away.
"He's right," I said, my voice unsteady. "My brothers didn't hurt me. They wouldn't. Ever." I wanted Darry to know that coming close, or thinking about hitting me, meant nothing. He never had. And I knew he never would.
"Well, it's clear from your reaction that somebody is hurting you. So who is it?" Dr. Bryant wasn't going to back down.
I didn't answer. I had no idea what I should do. I fought to avoid crying but failed miserably, my eyes filling up and my body shaking embarrassingly with each sob. God, how I didn't want to do this. Not again.
"Look, Scout, I care about you, and I certainly don't want the state involved in this any more than you do, but I'm not releasing you from this hospital into an unsafe environment. Would this be easier for you if your brother waited outside?"
"No!" I cried, nearly knocking Darry over by force as I grabbed onto him. I was sure that was some sort of ploy, to get him out of the room, and I was even more sure I'd say something that would be misinterpreted if they left me alone, without anyone on my side. I needed Darry there.
"I want him to stay. I'll tell, if you let him stay." I continued crying, plastered against his chest, feeling his hand on the back of my head, pulling me close.
"It's okay, baby," he whispered. "You can tell him. It's okay."
"It wasn't my brothers," I said, my voice muffled against Darry's chest. I thought briefly about how I was crying all over his clean shirt.
"Then who, Scout? Who's hurting you?"
I turned my head to the side, freeing my mouth to speak clearly, but not looking at Dr. Bryant.
"He's not hurting me anymore," I whispered. "It was only one time."
"What happened?" Dr. Bryant asked, a softer tone to his voice now that I had owned up to at least the fact that something had, indeed, happened.
"I don't want to tell," I whispered, between sobs. "I'm scared."
Darry's hand was on my back, rubbing - trying, in vain, to calm me.
"It's okay," he whispered.
"Scout, if someone is scaring and hurting you, you need to tell me," the doctor continued. "I'm here to help you."
"No…" I sniffed, 'I'm not scared of him, I'm scared of telling you."
I grabbed onto Darry and buried my head back in his chest. I'd said that it wasn't my brothers; why couldn't he just leave it at that?
"Scout, you can trust me," he said, and he sounded sincere.
"Can she? Can we?" Darry asked. "The state intervening; that's what she's scared of. That they'll take her away from us, even though none of us did anything wrong. God, we've almost lost each other so many times already - we lost our parents... Hell, she deserves a break, don't you think? It just seems like the state is always looking to make our situation look worse than it is." I could sense - and identify with - his frustration.
"That's not necessarily the case, you know, Scout," Dr. Bryant said, moving closer. "Every case is different. Something bad happening doesn't necessarily mean you get taken away."
"I want to stay with my brothers," I said, still not turning.
"Can you look at me, Scout? Please?" he asked gently. I hesitated, but finally turned, wiping my eyes on Darry's sleeve.
"Sorry," I whispered to him.
"Stop it," Darry answered. "It's fine."
I turned all the way around and tried to meet Dr. Bryant's eyes, but involuntarily averted mine the second they met.
"Look, I'm not the enemy… I want to help you," Dr. Bryant said, and his genuine tone made me feel bad. He hadn't ever given me any reason not to trust him. "If I don't document this now, it can just come back to haunt you again another time. Please, let me help."
"If I tell," I started, coughing a bit from all the crying and trying to catch my breath, "if I swear my brothers had nothing to do with it, will you promise you won't do anything that would make them take me away?" I asked, wiping again at the tears.
"Scout, he can't…" Darry started.
"I can try my very hardest," Dr. Bryant interrupted.
I took a deep breath, interrupted by an involuntary sob, stared straight down, and talked to the floor tiles.
"I… got attacked. In the spring."
"What happened to you?"
"It wasn't my fault. Or my brothers' either." This was the first time I had said that out loud, and almost believed it. Darry's arm tightened around my shoulder.
"How did he hurt you?"
"Just the broken ribs, and some bruises… he hit me, and… cut me." I closed my eyes again, I didn't want to talk about the rest.
"It was an attempted rape," Darry said. "He tried, but… he didn't. He wasn't ever supposed to be alone with her, and technically, he wasn't, he just… took advantage of a situation. I was up in the panhandle with Pony for the state track meet. I came home during the attack and he ran... Thank God."
I heard something like a sad sigh from Dr. Bryant.
"Look at me, Scout."
I looked up at him. He looked genuinely sad. I bit at my lip again, trying not to cry.
"Say it again," he said.
"What?" I barely whispered.
"That it wasn't your fault."
I couldn't.
"Say it, Scout," Darry said, softly, "I want to hear it, too."
"It wasn't my fault," I finally said, barely audible, even to myself.
"You need to believe that," Dr. Bryant asserted. "It wasn't. Can I ask… who?"
I shook my head no and turned my head back around to nestle into Darry's chest. I didn't want to say his name; I didn't want to talk about it anymore. Darry must have sensed it; he went back to rubbing my back, as he answered for me.
"It was… a friend of my brother's. He was messed up - on drugs. None of us ever suspected it was him, and Scout didn't tell us. She kept it to herself; said she didn't see who it was." I felt stupid, being talked about, but was so tired from the whole conversation that I didn't bother trying to explain how I'd acted. I tried to draw in a deep breath as I leaned back against Darry, but it caught in my throat, setting me off to coughing. Darry didn't let go, just let me lean against him, cough and all.
"I'm so sorry… for all of you," Dr. Bryant said.
"Thanks… it's been hard on us. Mostly her, but us too."
"I wish she'd felt she could have told someone."
"Me too… It's taken it's toll on her. It's been a long road for all of us. She was doing okay, until… this was hard on her, obviously. And we definitely weren't expecting to be dealing with all this again, right now."
"Well, I'm sorry I had to bring all of this up again, for any of you, but, believe me, it could have been a lot worse if somebody else had come across those X-rays with no documentation of the injury. I'll record the breaks in her file, with the explanation that she was attacked. It's not all that rare around here. Social services won't be looking at any previous history I add in now anyway - all they know is that she's going through a rough patch with the allergic reaction and the pneumonia."
"That's good news." I felt a bit of tension draining out of Darry, and found myself hoping Soda'd be up for giving him a backrub later.
I was exhausted from the whole ordeal, and Darry must have thought I was actually asleep, because he shifted my weight and lay me back down on the bed, sitting on the edge. I was glad for it, actually – I was barely able to hold up my own head anymore, but I grabbed on tight as he tried to slide his hand away. I needed to know he was there, even in my sleep.
"You realize what happened to her was a crime, right?" Dr. Bryant said. They were talking so quietly that I could barely hear them anymore.
"I know. You saw how hard it was for her here, telling you – and she knows you. We didn't want to prosecute, press charges and put her through the whole testimony… she hates court anyway, she gets worked up for weeks about it. It just would have made her an emotional mess. The guy who did it - there was no point. He's been through worse than jail anyway. And he's not allowed anywhere near her." I noticed he didn't mention that Steve had driven me to the hospital the day before, and was glad for that.
"When she got hurt, you just… let her heal? You didn't take her to a doctor?"
"Of course not.. I had our neighbor take a look at her… she works in the ER... Mrs. Cummings?"
"Oh, Karla. She's wonderful."
"Well, she's been taking care of our bumps and bruises since we were just kids. She told us there was nothing we could really do for her anyway... just rest, so we figured there was no need to get the hospitals involved. And, of course, the threat of Social Services was on all of our minds. They can turn anything around to make us look bad."
"Well, they do some good for a lot of kids, too. But I see your point. What about emotionally? Did she see anyone? talk to anyone?"
"I asked her over and over if she wanted to talk to somebody, and she insisted she didn't. She opened up to Soda, though, and that seemed to help. She really seemed to be doing a lot better, until this."
"Well, again, I apologize… but, unfortunately, it's part of the job, and not always an easy one. I've seen a lot of kids who were being abused, Darrel, and believe me, it breaks my heart. It kills me to think about what happened to Scout, but it would kill me even more to think that I was sending her back into a situation where it could happen again."
"It absolutely won't, ever. Believe me, it won't."
"I believe you. I know you and your brothers love her, and I can tell how bad you feel about what happened to her. I have no apprehensions about her being safe in your home."
"Thanks, Doctor, I really appreciate that."
"Anything else I can do for you?"
"No, just… thanks. For believing in us." I felt Darry's weight lift off the bed but refused to let go of his hand, so I guess he had to shake hands with Dr. Bryant with his left hand, and they laughed. Darry sat back down, and his free hand rested on my forehead.
"Darrel?" Dr. Bryant called back, just after the hospital room had creaked open.
"Yeah?"
"Just so you know; I never really suspected it was anyone in your family. Just a trick they teach you in medical school, to get patients to open up. A kid will almost never let someone they love take the heat for something they didn't do. I hope I didn't offend you."
"I didn't exactly love feeling accused, but I understand."
"You take good care of her; I'll be back later this afternoon."
"Thanks... I will," Darry said, and I heard the door click shut, leaving the two of us alone again. He leaned down to lay next to me and I reached out for him, wondering how he had gotten so wet, until I remembered how I'd cried all over him.
I wanted to talk, to thank him, to tell him how glad I'd been that he was there with me, but my voice failed me and the best I could manage was a pathetic moan. I just wanted to sleep - and feel as safe as I did with him right next to me - forever.
The last thing I remembered before I completely drifted off was the weight of his arm around me, grounding me, and his voice in my ear:
"I'm proud of you, kiddo. You're a lot stronger than you think. But let me be strong for you now… you just sleep."
And I did.
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A/N: Oh, my! A happy ending! It's an experiment to see if I still get feedback when I post a non-cliffhanger. And they all lived happily ever… um, okay, well, probably not…
