Fear - 20

The first thing Gene did when he got off the elevator was look for Jared, very glad to see he wasn't there. Of course, he thought seconds later, if Jared had been there, the authorities would know who Shawn was, if it is him. Still, as angry as he was at the moment, Gene knew he'd have laid into Jared verbally and physically if he'd been there.

The officer must have seen something in Gene's expression because he said, "We're doing all we can to locate the bastard who did this, but first we have to find out who the kid is, so let's hope you do know him." Turning to one of the nurses, he asked if it was all right to take Gene down to the room.

The nurse nodded. "You'll be able to see him through the window but you can't go inside."

"I know," Gene said with a small smile. "I'm a doctor."

Her eyebrows arched in surprise—he figured probably because he was wearing a worn pair of jeans and his very bleached out flannel shirt since he'd been planning on going hiking before he'd heard the news report.

The office led the way down the hall, stopping by the room's window, looking inquiringly at Gene.

Gene's breath hissed in. "His name is Shawn Mathews. He lives with one Jared Lewis, a construction worker. I'm not sure where, other than they have a trailer from what Shawn told me yesterday."

The officer thanked him before hurrying off, already on his two-way, relaying the information.

"God, Shawn…" Gene murmured, turning his gaze back to the young man. One eye was swollen shut, the only facial damage Gene could see. He was on a ventilator and there were chest tubes, IVs, a heart monitor, and a pulse oximeter clipped to one finger, as well as a foley catheter bag hanging on the bed. There was barely an inch of his chest that wasn't bruised and Gene had the feeling there was more damage hidden under the sheet, which was drawn up to his waist.

As he stood there, he became aware of someone beside him and turned to look.

"He should survive," the man said after introducing himself as Dr Schwartz. "We've met before"—the doctor studied Gene then nodded—"at a medical conference. You're Doctor Collins, if I remember correctly."

"I am. And I remember you. You sat next to me during a lecture on trauma case studies."

"That would be me." He chuckled. "You weren't overly impressed with the speaker, if I remember correctly." Then his mouth tightened as he looked at Shawn again. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this, HIPPA and all, but—he sustained internal damage, of course, and indications are this wasn't the first time someone had beaten him. He's getting the best care we can provide but to be honest what happens next is up to him." The doctor tapped his forehead. "He has to want to get better."

Gene nodded. He was well aware that a patient's mind played into his ability to heal. If Shawn gave up, for whatever reason, that could be the end of it. "He was in a very abusive relationship," he said softly. "He thought… he said it had gotten better—that his lover hadn't hit him for quite a long time. I'd debate that since he was already in pain yesterday from what I can only presume were fractured or broken ribs."

"Hard to tell at this point which, since two were broken when the EMTs brought him in." Doctor Schwartz shook his head. "I'll never understand the dynamics of that kind of relationship."

"For the abused, need, love—if you can call it that—fear, hope, isolation, and too many other reasons to enumerate." Gene sighed. "For the abuser, it makes them feel powerful and in control, especially if they have deep-seated feelings of inadequacy. They may have been abused themselves and so they see what they're doing as something normal and… and enough of the whys. I'm sure you know them all."

"I do, but I still don't get it." With that said, the doctor walked away, shaking his head again.

I don't either, but it happens, too much, to too many of us, somewhere along the line.

Resting his forehead against the window, Gene continued to watch Shawn, praying he'd live. Praying he wanted to.