We work together tugging and pulling to remove his pants while leaving him decent, clad in just his boxers. I make my way to the young man’s head. I wrap my arm around his chest as I start to speak near his ear. “I want you to try. I don’t want to cath you unless it’s absolutely necessary.” “Can you.... help me.... sit up?” “Absolutely. If that’s what you think will help.” “Has Dr. Carter ever tried to change your position when he’s trying to get you to relieve yourself?” I watch Cole shake his head at Angela's question. “Always.... tied.... on my.... back.” “Well that explains a lot.” I mutter as I wrap my arms around the young man’s chest. He yelps lightly as my hug tightens around him. “I’m sorry Cole. Move with me. I’m going to sit you up. Damian, can you lower the rail on your side?” “Sure” He finally starts moving around Cole comfortably since coming into the room with me, at eighteen years old he’s had limited exposure to abuse of this nature.Damian gets the side do

“I’m sorry Cole but hopefully this is easier on you then previous ones. I need you to breathe through your mouth as I start and swallow when it hits your throat. Would you like some water? Most find drinking water makes the tube easier to swallow.” “No thank.... you” “Okay , now deep breaths for me.” It’s only a couple seconds after she starts that Damian and I have to help him stay still as he whines and fights the process. Angela keeps a sympathetic yet encouraging tone to her voice as she advances the tube down into his stomach. Fortunately, the young man stills his fight once the tube gets past his throat. By the time Angela is done Cole has fallen asleep against my shoulder. Angela smiles as she rubs his head while encouraging Damian to do the same. She connects a syringe to the tube and slowly pushes a small amount of the contents into the tube. “It’s saline to verify that the tube is placed in his stomach, not his lungs.” I nod my head as she pauses, waiting for a reactio

(Patrick’s POV)It doesn’t take long to cross the land in between the dining hall and the medical wing of the pack house. Jamison’s walking has improved so I’m not quite as worried about a concussion as Demetri is but the kid is still sporting a really nasty cut over his eye that’s still worth looking at.He’s been quiet the whole time walking, looking at the ground. He’s keeping pace with me but also staying a respectful two steps behind me, which tells me I’m a higher rank than him. Something I’ll ask about later if Dr. Morrison doesn’t. “Here.” I speak for the first time since leaving the dining hall as I open the door to the medical wing. I’m not much of a talker either, at least not with those I’ve just met. He steps inside ahead of me but stops about four feet away waiting for me to show the way. We get about halfway down the hall when I spot Dr. Pierce. “Angela, are you busy?” “A little Pat but how can I help you?” “Demetri sent me over here with Jamison. He wants Jamie c

“How long have you gone without eating?” He holds up five fingers as Jamie speaks again. “Five days” “No one ever tried to feed you like I am?” He closes his eyes as he tries to sigh. “Everyone is too afraid to touch him let alone hold him like you do.” “I know I haven’t done anything that warrants an apology but I am very sorry to hear you have suffered through such misery in the hands of those who are supposed to help.” “He appreciates the thought. He feels that it’s not their fault. The only one at General that’s stayed long enough to get to know him and his history is Dr. Carter. It’s the budget and the rumors that are started about him that truly hurt him. Everyone thinks he is some crazy psychopath that rapes little girls. That he’s violent and unpredictable.”“Are you ready to try and eat something?” He gives me a confused look before pointing to the tube taped to the side of his face. “No Cole, not the tube. We’re going to supplement the small amounts of chicken soup

I’m intrigued by his honesty about Cole and I desire more information but the young man seems hesitant to divulge too much about his friend. “Nothing you tell me will change how I treat Cole. What are these tics you’re talking about? I have noticed that he has a liking for rhythmic movements when he’s stressed but he hasn’t been active enough for me to see anything else.” “I don’t know what triggers it and we only saw it once during the eighteen months he lived with us but...... He came back from one of his monthly visits with his dad in really bad shape. The worst we had seen over the six months he had been there at the time. Dad pushed him to tell him what happened but instead of talking he got angry. Dad kept pushing until he put his fist through the wall. He ran away from us. Stayed away for several hours, he didn’t come back until late that night. When he came back both his hands were in bad shape. Red, swollen and bleeding. He had a bad cut to his forehead, similar to the one