Summary: "Are you okay?" the doctor asked again. He took note of the boy's dirt-stained, rumpled clothes. "Are you hurt, did someone hurt you?"

Author's Note: Time frame is the same as Chapter 1, somewhere around the middle of The Closer season 7.

Fernando Morales breathed in, threw back his shoulders and elongated his spine, an old clubbing habit left over from the days when he was self-conscious about his height. Nowadays, he'd given up cursing his shortness in favor of bemoaning his crow's feet.

He liked this place. It had been here forever and didn't even try to stay trendy. As a result, it was one of the few gay bars around where the clientele included 'aunties' like himself. And not every man looked like a model or a body builder, although that wolf over by the pay phone looked a little bit of both and he sure was rocking those jeans.

The doctor's stomach kept flipping between nervous and excited. He hadn't put himself on the market in ages. The corpses he hung around with were a bad influence. Tonight he was going to be brave, feel alive! He resolved that if anyone asked, he was just a doctor. Much less creepy than medical examiner. Plenty of time on a second date for stories about rehydrating burnt hands for fingerprints and that sort of thing. He thought for a moment. Maybe not.

He was ridiculously keyed up. Truth be told, he hated going out stag but knew he had to push himself. His life had become way too solitary of late.

I need to calm down, Fernando thought, as he eased his way through the crowd to the bar.

"Draft on tap," he told the cutie behind the bar. He'd hardly put the bottle to his lips when someone slammed into the seat beside him, breathing hard.

"Are you okay?" he blurted out before he'd really had a chance to look at the guy.

But then he did. His new companion was very young. Fernando looked a little more closely. Make that very young. The teen was clearly upset, lips quivering, hands shaking.

"C-can I have a g-glass of water?" the teenager asked anxiously over the bar.

The bartender frowned. "I told you not to come back here."

"Please!" The boy seemed desperate and wild-eyed. "Please, just a glass of water and then I'll go, I promise!"

The bartender's scowl deepened but he scooped up a glass of ice and drowned it in water. "Seriously, kid, you can't do your thing in here," he said firmly as he passed it across the bar.

But the boy had eyes only for the water. "Thanks!" Fernando noted that his hands were still shaking when he took the glass. He gulped down a few mouthfuls. Then a little calmer, "Thanks."

"Are you okay?" the doctor asked again. He took note of the boy's dirt-stained, rumpled clothes. "Are you hurt, did someone hurt you?"

The boy started. Apparently he hadn't noticed Fernando sitting next to him all this time.

"I...I'm fine," he answered too quickly, his voice too high. He took another nervous gulp. "I just... I was, um, on a date, and my date wanted... he wanted..." The boy looked away. His face sort of crumpled. "I just d-didn't expect that and I-I'm kind of freaking out, to tell you the truth."

Fernando frowned. "If he forced you-"

"No one forces me to do anything I don't want to," he insisted, but he was clearly lying. It was obviously a lie that meant a lot to him.

Even though the boy (fifteen? sixteen?) had turned haughty, Fernando became more, rather than less, intrigued. Every body tells a story, and the body next to him was signaling extreme distress.

"This date, are you going to see him again?" the doctor asked cautiously.

The teen's eyes narrowed. "What, are you my mother or something?"

"It's just that if he makes you uncomfortable -"

The kid slammed his half-empty glass on the bar. "Okay, fine!" he snapped impatiently, turning on the doctor. "Fine! It wasn't that kind of date, alright?" He dropped his voice and gave Fernando a meaningful look. "It was … it was more of a business meeting."

Fernando knew instantly what he meant, what he was, but … but... Fifteen? Sixteen? Good God! He blinked a few times and then went pale when he realized he had been staring at the boy for several seconds and probably giving the wrong impression about why.

"I-I'm sorry," he stuttered, looking away quickly. "I didn't -"

"You should learn to mind your own business, maybe, huh?" Apparently satisfied that he had put the doctor in his place, the boy finished his water. "Thanks, man," he called to the bartender (who wasn't paying attention), placing the glass down carefully on the counter. He stood and gave Fernando one last defiant look. He seemed to debate saying something, but then just stalked away.

Fernando felt queasy. It was so wrong, this hard, bitter boy going back to the streets, where he would probably die violently and end up on the doctor's exam table as a major crime. There should be something he could do. Normally, the doctor was protective of his awkward, tender heart that even at this age still had no shields. Friends, lovers, family - it was so easy to hurt him. The dead were safe, which is why he typically preferred their company. As Fernando watched the boy stomp away, his self-disappointment grew. Tonight was supposed to be about breaking out of his comfort zone.

Again a form dropped into the seat next to him. "Nice to see another over-40 around here."

He turned to his side. It was a man this time. Dark hair, just the right amount of stubble on his face, a face that was quite handsome but had some reassuring mileage on it. The man gave him a friendly, encouraging grin.

Fernando debated for a moment. The man next to him, the boy who'd just left – feeling alive meant connecting, taking risks. But he had to choose between them, and he chose the boy, because years ago he had taken an oath to alleviate the suffering of others, and right now that obligation trumped his own loneliness.

"Excuse me," he blurted out and started towards the door. An instant later he turned back and gave his own apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, but there's something I have to do."

The man looked a little startled but nodded a silent assent.

Fernando pushed through the crowd and out the door, looking frantically left and right. He spotted the kid half a block down and jogged over, not wanting to give fear and inertia any time to take control.

"What do you want?" the boy demanded, taking a few steps back and balling his fists.

"I just..." Fernando hesitated. "Are you going to be okay? I mean, I'm a doctor. If you're hurt -"

"I said I'm fine and that means I'm fine!" The boy looked into his worried face, and sighed. "Look, you... you know about me, right?" Fernando nodded. "So there's only two ways you can help me. Take me on a date, or leave me alone."

A 'date' was unthinkable. The alternative … He knew he was alive, because he felt so acutely useless. There was no alternative to the alternative.

Spreading his hands open and empty at his sides, he sagged in frustration. "I'm sorry," he said again.

The boy looked ...hurt ... disappointed. He shook his head slowly. His lip began to tremble and his eyes to glisten. Then he turned on his heel and took off running.

Fernando watched him disappear down the street and walked slowly back to the bar. So much for putting himself out there. Another drink and then home to bed. In the morning, he'd go back to his regular patients, the ones that couldn't hurt him.

"You okay?" It was the man who'd smiled at him, still sitting in the spot where Fernando had left him. "I don't mean to pry, but you ran out of here looking kind of worried and – I'm sorry if I'm overstepping."

Fernando shook his head and smiled weakly. "Rough night among the living."

The man snorted in amusement. "Never heard that one before." He touched the doctor's shoulder lightly, and Fernando felt the warmth of another seep in through his shirt. "C'mon. I'll buy you a drink."

Author's Note: I'm sorry the story was so sad for Rusty. The more I think about his situation, the more I realize that short of offering him a home, there really isn't much well-meaning people like Dr. Morales can do for him. But I wanted a happy ending, at least for the good doctor. I'm marking the story complete, since I never did have a larger narrative in mind, just these two encounters. Thanks to everyone for reading and please review if you get a chance! Ella