I'm adding this note in here because for some reason it keeps telling me the chapter note is too long, but it's under 500 characters so I don't know what the problem is:

This chapter is also now twice as long as it originally was since I got inspired last night to add Matt's POV of the rescue. The first half of this chapter would probably be its own chapter, adding in another day of waiting for the conclusion--which I thought might be a little mean for those of you who have waited so patiently (mostly) for the rescue. So it's one really long chapter...

Chapter 16

"What the hell is going on down there?" Matt demanded of Officer Garrett who had suddenly shot back out of the basement looking pale and sick.

The officer ignored him as he practically shouted orders into the radio on his shoulder. The man's voice was actually wavering a bit, and Matt found his attention was torn between trying to hear what Garrett was saying and trying to peer down into the basement.

"Avery's down there, isn't he?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.

"... suspect... has teen hostage... need back up... paramedics immediately." Matt caught part of what the officer was relaying.

Hostage? Oh, my God. He instinctively surged forward, but Garrett had his hand on his chest, pushing him back. He could barely see the three other officers crouching on the stairs, but he couldn't hear what was being said.

Matt paced a few feet into the kitchen and back toward the basement, his heart pounding in his chest. He ran both hands in his hair, gripping it tightly. "Oh, my God, Avery, please, please be alright."

He looked imploringly at Officer Garrett whose tight, pinched face made Matt even more nervous. "Mr. Andrews, please..."

"It's Matt, and please tell me what's going on... Is Avery...?

Garrett lips tightened in a grim line, his glistening eyes betraying his stoic facade. "Matt, please. Stay back. Let us--"

A shot.

Oh, my god. What the hell?

Garrett whipped around and darted down the stairs to provide back up to his fellow officers. The other officers had already surged forward. Matt hovered at the top of the stairs. He could already hear the wailing sirens growing closer.

"... Get him down," he heard the sheriff's voice shout, and Matt could just feel his hands shaking as he clenched them into fists. It was killing him, not knowing what had happened. Had Avery been hurt? Had someone been shot?

The cacophony of voices was hard to sort through, but he did hear Avery's father shouting. "I'm dying, here! You fucking shot me!"

Oh, thank God it wasn't Avery, he breathed. After what he'd heard on the phone, he didn't particularly care if his father had been hurt.

As a team of paramedics shot through the living room, Matt stepped back out of their way. The first of them only reached the bottom of the step before he shouted back up for 'a board'. Once they were down the steps and had disappeared into the depths of the basement, Matt finally couldn't take not knowing. As he moved down the steps with the intent of backing into the corner out of the way as soon as he reached the bottom, but instead he nearly fell down the last few steps, horrified by what he saw.

So much blood. Ohmygod, ohmygod.

"Avery!" Matt cried out, his stomach nearly heaved at the sight of the mutilated back of the person he loved. "Oh, my God! Avery!"

Matt could barely breathe, as he watched the paramedics swarm the lean body. Avery's back was shredded with several jagged lacerations, and Avery was lying so still, limp, and almost lifeless. Had his father done that to him? For having a phone? Oh, god, had he caused this to happen to Avery? Oh, fuck, oh, fuck...

He vaguely processed that Carl Greene was wailing on the other side of the room, whining about his bleeding arm. Two of the medics had gone over to Carl, but their movements were less hurried than the two hovering over Avery. The paramedics were efficiently making assessments, while an officer removed the leather braces quickly out of their way.

"I got this one," a medic next to Carl snapped. He barely registered the medic cutting away the sleeve of the handcuffed man and wrapping a gauze bandage around it, as the other one monitored vitals with narrowed eyes.

"That fucking hurts!" Carl snapped as the paramedic yanked the gauze tight, probably a little tighter than necessary. The four officers there weren't looking very sympathetic either.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that," the medic muttered, not sounding particularly regretful as he cast a sad glance at the boy on the floor.

Thundering on the stairs behind him caused Matt to jerk out of his haze of stunned horror. He darted aside as medics with a stretcher efficiently made their way over to Avery's side, placing it behind him.

"He's been cut with a knife," one of them was informing the new arrivals, who were laying a sterile sheet over his back to protect it. "We'll have to put him on his back..."

"Okay, on three. One, two, three..."

Matt stumbled forward darting as close as he dared, a grimace of pain creased Avery's pale, sweaty face as he body was jostled onto the stretcher. Black strands of hair were sticking to his forehead and neck. Matt felt himself hyperventilating, as he dropped tearfully to his knees by Avery's head.

"Avery," he whispered, briefly reaching to caress his cheek.

"Matt," Avery whispered, his green eyes fluttering, searching. As the paramedics pulled straps across him, one of them assessing the stab wound, Avery's face morphed to panic. "No.... no..."

"Crap," one of the medics muttered trying to still the struggling boy, obviously panicking at being tied down.

"Whoa, there. Hold still, okay?" another one said gently, but Matt could practically see Avery's heart pounding in his thin chest. God, was he really that thin? The stranger's voice did nothing to calm him.

"Avery, it's okay," Matt leaned in abruptly, hoping to calm him down. At first, a medic looked like he was going to shoo Matt away, but when Avery stilled at the sound of Matt's voice, he just nodded for him to continue. "It's just the paramedics. They're here to help."

"S-sorry," he heard Avery croak.

"Oh, god," Matt groaned at the thought that Avery thought he had to be sorry for anything. What the hell had happened? How had this happened? Had his father just snapped? Was it really just because of the phone? He tearfully watched the crimson-splattered hands of the paramedic assess a bleeding wound in Avery's ribs.

"...looks like it's not too deep, no signs of lung puncture..." he vaguely heard the medic say before he forced himself to focus on Avery's face, away from the smears of blood.

"Avery, there's nothing to be sorry for," Matt finally choked out. The medic taped on a thick pad of sterile gauze as another finished attaching wires to monitor his vitals. A third was pricking the skin on his arm to start an IV.

"Okay make a hole!" a voice shouted.

Matt nearly jumped out of his skin at the suddenly loud shout to clear the way. He quickly brushed the hair on Avery's forehead aside, his fingers slipping on the slick skin, before the stretcher was lifted up.

"I love you, Matt," he barely heard the whispered breath, and his heart nearly stopped again. He reached again for Avery, but an oxygen mask was strapped on him as Avery was pulled out of his reach.

"Blood pressure is dropping! Let's go!"

Matt started to follow, his heart aching. "Avery..."

One medic stopped him with a firm hand to his chest. "We'll need the room in the bus to work in case--" the man cut off, not wanting to alarm Matt, but Matt already knew what that 'in case' was referring to--in case he crashes, in case he stops breathing, in case his heart stops, in case... he dies. "Meet him at the hospital. Sounds like he'd want you there."

"Is he..." but Matt couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

The man's face was grim, but he gave a slight smile. "We're going to do our best. I promise."

Matt gulped and nodded, forcing himself to believe that Avery would be okay. He had to be okay. He watched as they jostled the stretcher up the stairs as quickly as possible. He would be okay. I know he will. He's--

"...want to explain to me what plans Avery ruined that you'd nearly kill your son for?" Nelson's voice fractured his thoughts, and he realized that Carl Greene was now being dragged to his feet.

Avery's father looked absolutely crazed, his eyes glittering with anger. "Fuck you, Travis! I hope the brat dies, he's caused me enough fucking trouble!"

What the fuck? Hot rage flooded though Matt as he launched himself at the psychotic man. "You son-of-a-bitch! How could you do such a thing?!"

He'd managed one solid punch to the bigger man's jaw, intent on pummeling the answer out of him. He deserved it. He deserved more than that for what he'd done. But arms wrapped around his chest and jerking him back.

Carl staggered crashing painfully into the work bench behind him. "Fuck!"

The two officers dragged their prisoner back up from the floor, barely containing their smirks under their stern professional faces.

"Back off, Mr. Andrews," Travis Nelson barely flicked him a glance as he kept his eyes on the prisoner. "Get him to the ambulance. Get him patched up so we can get his ass in a cell."

The medics smiled and nodded.

"Perkins, you and Garrett accompany him."

"Yes, sir," Perkins said as he grabbed Carl's arm, and the man yelled trying to yank free.

"Fucker! That fucking hurts, you asshole!"

Nelson hid his smirk as Perkins looked down at where he'd grabbed Carl's arm, right under the wound at the top of his shoulder, his thumb pressing suspiciously close to it. "Oh, I'm sorry," the officer replied stoically. "Wouldn't want you in any pain, now would we?"

Carl just grumbled under his breath as he was shoved roughly forward. "Just you wait, I'll be out soon. You think Avery will talk? He'll never take a stand against me in court. I'm his father."

"You're no father, Carl," Travis leaned in threateningly, "No father does that to his son. And he won't have to testify if he doesn't want to. I have four police officers who just witnessed you trying to kill your son. You hung him from the fucking rafters, beat the hell out of him with a fucking chain," he sneered pointing at both the ceiling hook and the blood-stained chain links on the floor, "and then you used your son as shield and attempted to kill him by stabbing him. Hell, from the looks of things, they'll be lots more charges to pile on top of those. Do you really think you are going anywhere but prison for the rest of your life?"

Carl's nostrils flared as he sneered at the sheriff. "Fuck off, sheriff."

"Get him out of here," Travis snapped.

Matt watched as the man was dragged up the stairs, practically kicking and screaming. The officer holding Matt back slowly released him, and he nearly dropped to the floor. Travis caught him by the arm.

"Mr. Andrews... Matt," the sheriff's voice trembled slightly now that the main crisis was over. "You saved that boy's life tonight."

The realization that Avery could have been killed by his father, hanging from a chain in this cold basement broke Matt. Heavy sobs ripped from his throat. "Oh, God, why... He could have..."

He felt firm fingers grip his biceps, shaking him firmly. "Matt," Travis Nelson's voice snapped at him, dragging him back to focus. "I don't know why it happened yet, but it's obvious there's more going on here. Avery is going to need you. You need to be there for him."

Matt inhaled sharply, straightening as he nodded. Yes, he needed to be strong. He needed to be Avery's rock.

"Go, I'll have someone drive you to the hospital."

@@@@

Matt yawned, stretching, his back popping from the uncomfortable 'sleep chair' that was provided for him in Avery's hospital room. The last two days had been a blur, a haze of doctors and nurses fluttering in and out, as well as his mom and Erin. The sheriff had checked in yesterday, taking his statement, and letting him know that Carl Greene was securely in custody, but he wasn't talking. He still had Crime Scene Investigators at the house.

But Matt didn't register much. His focus was on the waif-like teen who looked so small and pale in the huge hospital bed under the thick white blankets. Dr. Yates had allowed him to stay on Nelson's say so since they had yet to determine if Avery had any other relatives. The surgeon had said things Matt hadn't totally understood except that Avery was better off than they had hoped--something about being lucky his lung wasn't punctured by the knife, internal bleeding was controlled, severe bruising and lacerations to the back, dehydration being a concern...

What Matt heard was the answer to the one question he needed to know the answer to:

"Will he be alright?"

"Yes, he will recover," Dr. Yates had said, before Matt dropped into the chair.

His mom and sister had come immediately when he'd called them on his way to the hospital in the police cruiser. He had clung to both, until he'd been told Avery was in recovery. When the doctor would only allow one person to stay with Avery, his mom and sister had left, promising to return.

He remembered them coming back yesterday, but he was so tired from pacing and waiting and worrying, he really didn't register much of their visit. He'd spent time vacillating between being angry at Carl, sick with worry for Avery, crying with hurt and guilt. He was emotionally wrung out. And the worst part was not knowing what had caused Avery's father to attack him like that. The only thing Matt could think was that the phone--the phone Matt had given him--had set the man off for some reason. And that made Matt's stomach tear itself up in guilt.

There were a few times that Avery would twitch, a low groan coming from him, before a gasp of pain would cause him to drop back off. The doctor had made him leave when they changed bandages. They had taken him off a breathing tube yesterday as they were satisfied with Avery's lung function, although they did keep him on oxygen via a small tube that wrapped over his ears to hold it in place. It was much less scary looking than the damn thing that seemed to cover his whole face. He'd heard the doctor talking in a low tone to the nurse about 'the scars' and some other things as they let him back in, but all he could do was drop back into the chair.

"God, Avery," he breathed, his lips pressed to Avery's knuckles, "please, please, wake up," he prayed. "I love you so much. You can't leave me. Please..."

@@@@

Oh, god, he groaned as he suddenly became aware of his body, realizing that meant he wasn't dead. Because it couldn't be this fucking painful to be dead. He blinked briefly, but the assault of the bright white on his eyes kept him from trying again. Instead, he focused on the voices.

"Did you ever find any living relatives?" he heard an unfamiliar voice ask, but it seemed far away.

"No," the deep voice of the sheriff stated. "The bastard was lying about an aunt in Florida. I tracked down information on his mother. Apparently, she was killed in a car accident in Jackson, Mississippi almost six years ago, shortly after she left Carl and Avery."

Avery's head swam. His mother was dead? He felt tears fighting at the corners of his eyes. So it wasn't that she hadn't ever cared to call or check in on him. A wave of relief washed over him that his mother hadn't necessarily totally forgotten and abandoned him, but it was quickly tempered by the realization that she truly was gone. He'd spent so long feeling both angry at her for leaving him and guilt that he'd driven her away. She had seemed so unhappy in the months before she left.

But never really known why she left. Dad said it was his fault, but it seemed like something else always niggled at the back of his brain. Seeing her on the couch in the mornings when he woke up early. The silence at dinner. Something he'd heard his father yelling about. Another man? Couldn't leave? He still loved her? Wait, there had been--

The sheriff's voice continued. "...The report says they'd been heading back to Euphoria to talk to Carl again about letting Avery live with them."

Avery's heart nearly stopped. His mother had been coming back for him. Her and-- whoever, someone she'd left his dad for. She'd wanted him. She'd wanted him to be with her. But his father wouldn't give him up. He'd held onto him as his last piece of his wife.

"Raymond Vance said they had been trying for a couple months to get Carl to let them even see Avery, but he refused. He was bitter, angry about his wife falling in love with another man. Carl had been fighting the divorce as well. Apparently, Alina wanted desperately to bring Avery home with her before Christmas, so they were driving up here to talk to Carl again, hoping he'd see reason. But a car crashed into the passenger side, killing Alina and leaving Mr. Vance paralyzed. He's in a long term care facility."

Shit. Christmas. That's when it all started. Has his father known his mother had been killed? He must have. He'd always wanted her to come back, and then she couldn't. Avery fought the guilt. His mother had died trying to come back for him.

"Oh, and there's no one else?"

"No, neither Carl nor Alina had siblings, and their parents have passed away."

"So he really has no one?" Matt's voice echoed in the dark, startling Avery. Matt was here?

"Unfortunately, no," Travis Nelson's voice sounded closer now. "So how is he, doctor? You think he'll wake up soon?"

Doctor? Maybe he was in a hospital.

"Well, I would think so," the doctor sighed. "The wounds are closing nicely, we're watching them for infection. He'll certainly have scars."

Scars? Shit, he already had scars. That was the least of his worries.

"Fuck, I can't believe this," Avery heard the sheriff mutter. "How could a father do such a thing? How could he just snap like that?"

There was a sob closer to him, and Avery realized it was Matt. "Fucking bastard."

"Sheriff, there's more you should know," the doctor started carefully.

Nelson snorted, "What, besides the hanging his son in the basement and beating him with a chain and stabbing him with a knife?"

"Yeah, a lot more," the doctor said quietly. "We've had time to really assess the boy's condition over the last couple days now that his more immediate injuries are healing..."

The room was suddenly quiet.

"What are you saying?" Travis asked suspiciously.

The doctor sighed heavily. "I'm saying this wasn't the first time this kid has been abused."

"What?!" voices erupted around him.

"He has scars all over--back, legs, torso, buttocks--that are years old. This has been happening for a while."

And Avery wished he could get his body and voice to function. To yell at the man to stop. Stop giving away his secrets. Secrets he'd carefully guarded for so long.

"Oh, shit..."

"Oh, God, Avery..." he heard Matt cry, and Avery couldn't bear the pain in his voice, "that's why he always wore such baggy, concealing clothes."

"And..." the doctor continued.

"And?!" Travis snapped, "There's fucking more?"

"Yeah, besides being severely malnourished--which probably stunted his growth, he's... he's been..."

"What?" Travis Nelson pressed.

And Avery let out a whimper, knowing what the man was going to say--revealing all his carefully guarded secrets to the world. Noooo....

"He's been raped," the doctor said quietly.

There was stunned silence again, and Avery squeezed his eyes to fight the tears that threatened to leak out, waiting for the sneers of disgust.

"Oh, jeez," he heard the sheriff breathe.

He felt fingers curling around his hand. Matt. How could he bear to touch him, knowing what had happened? He wanted to yank his hand away, to not infect Matt with his filth.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, when we noticed, we did a rape kit. Sent it to the lab for DNA tests. But Travis..."

"No, no. Don't fucking tell me there's more," the sheriff growled.

"Look," the doctor continued cautiously, "it appears, based on old scar tissue, ..."

"Oh, fuck," Travis Nelson mumbled, his voice obscured from behind his hand as he realized what the doctor was saying.

"What?" Matt pressed.

"No," Avery managed to whimper, not wanting the doctor to say more.

Matt jerked in surprise. "Avery!"

Suddenly, there was movement around him. The doctor was leaning over him, as was a nurse. Where had she come from?

"Hey there, Avery," the doctor's voice smiled down on him, and Avery slowly blinked up at him. "I'm Dr. Yates. How are you feeling?"

Avery tried to swallow, but his throat felt dry. The cool air from the tube on his face tickled his nose. He watched the doctor nod toward Matt, and Avery rolled his head to see the red-rimmed blue eyes smiling at him. Matt picked up a cup of water with a straw and brought it to his lips. Avery gulped down the water gratefully.

Dr. Yates laughed. "Take it easy, there, son. You don't want to choke."

Avery smiled feebly, glancing only briefly at Matt, afraid to see the disgust in his eyes. But there was none. He looked tired. His eyes were red, and he had a day's worth of stubble on his chin, but he just looked worried and sad. And Avery hated knowing it was him that made Matt look like that.

"How do you feel?" Matt repeated the doctor's question.

"Tired," Avery whispered.

"That's to be expected," Dr. Yates assured. "How's the pain?"

"Hurts," he said hoarsely, trying to block out the burning flares on his back, and he could see the grimaces cross the faces in the room. Avery shifted and winced at a pain in his side, his hand coming to his ribs in surprise. He remembered what happened to his back, but his side? What had happened... "What--?"

The doctor frowned. "Avery, do you remember what happened to you?"

Avery's eyes darted around the room, before focusing on the door, looking fearful. "Uh, my--my..."

"Your father, Avery," Travis Nelson supplied, when Avery seemed reluctant to say. "It's okay. We know he hit you."

His eyes glistened. "But--?" Avery's fingers ghosted over his sore ribs.

"He stabbed you, too," Matt growled. "Before the police could shoot him."

Avery's eyes shot to the sheriff. "Shoot him?"

Sheriff Nelson nodded. "Your wound would have been a lot worse, if we hadn't. He might have killed you."

"Too bad you didn't kill him," Matt muttered under his breath, squeezing Avery hand. "Fucker."

"Avery, are you okay with Mr. Andrews being here?" the doctor asked suddenly.

"What?" Avery gaped in surprise. "Yeah, why?"

"Just had to be sure," the doctor stated. "You have no other family here, and since you were calm when he was around, talking to you, we decided to let him stay on Sheriff Nelson's okay until you could tell us otherwise."

Avery cast a shy smile at Matt. "Yeah, he's--he's my best friend."

The doctor grinned, checking over the beeping monitors. "Good. Very good. Well, I think Avery needs to get some rest."

The sheriff laid a hand on Matt's back. "I'll be back tomorrow to talk, Avery. Matt," he paused with a smile, "take care of him."

"I will," Matt assured.

The doctor jerked his head toward the door, and the nurse exited quickly with him. He cast a knowing look to Matt before he closed the door behind them, leaving the two young men in peace.

"Avery," Matt breathed, trying to keep the tears from flowing.

"Matt--"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Matt whispered hoarsely, his eyes glittering with a myriad of emotions.

Avery blinked back tears. "I couldn't."

"Why, the hell not?" Matt snapped brokenly, choking on tears, regretting his tone when Avery flinched. "Shit, Avery, I didn't mean--"

"Because--" Avery glanced away, tears streaking down his cheeks. "Because ...I didn't want you to know-- to see the look of disgust--"

"Oh, god, Avery," Matt groaned as he rose. He tearfully leaned over, taking Avery's face in his hands and forcing the emerald eyes to meet his. "I could never look at you that way."

"But--"

"But nothing," Matt said, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears. He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Avery's lips. "I love you, Avery Greene. I always will."

Avery felt the wall of fear and mistrust shatter as he gazed in the deep blue eyes. A wrenching sob broke from his throat as he grasped Matt's wrists as the teen was cradling his face, holding on for dear life. "Please," Avery begged as the pain meds the doctor had upped kicked in, and he began to feel floaty, "please don't let go."

Matt gently kissed his forehead, his heart breaking at the raw emotion pouring from Avery. "Never."

@@@@

Matt felt Avery grip his hand tighter when the sheriff stepped in the next afternoon. It had already been a long emotional morning, and he knew it wasn't going to get any easier.

His mom and sister had been in earlier. Matt had told them both that the abuse Avery suffered had apparently been ongoing; his father hadn't just snapped, he'd just escalated. His mom was horrified to hear that a father could do such a thing--she'd thought her second husband shunning Matt had been horrible enough. Erin had cried and ranted, kicking chairs when he'd told her. But both of them were more collected by the time they came in to see Avery.

He'd smiled shyly at them, still not sure of how people would treat him knowing the truth. Matt was proud of his mom for offering Avery to come stay with them after he got out of the hospital without him having to even ask. He wasn't sure he could let Avery ever go back to that horrible house, and he didn't want Avery to have to go into foster care.

Both Dr. Yates and Travis Nelson settled in seats on the opposite sides of the bed. They were both emotionally wrung out from the evening before. Matt couldn't believe how much pain and fear Avery had been holding in, afraid of the humiliation and disgust that he felt people would look at him with.

"It's okay, Avery," Matt assured again. "Sheriff Nelson just wants to hear what's been happening. You need to tell him."

Travis could see the flash of distrust in the teen's eyes, of fear and shame.

"Avery," Travis began gently, "I know this is going to be hard, but I want you to know, nobody, and I mean, nobody believes any of this was your fault."

Avery's eyes flicked to Dr. Yates who nodded his agreement.

"You're a kid, and what your father did was appalling and absolutely inexcusable," Dr. Yates stated.

"He hit you, didn't he?" Travis said, gently easing into the discussion with the least abhorrent atrocity against this kid in hopes of getting him to talk. Because Carl Greene certainly wasn't admitting to anything, not that he had to. The evidence against him was staggering. Avery nodded slightly. "Did he hit you a lot?"

Travis felt his stomach drop when the kid's ebony head nodded in confirmation of what they had pretty much already known.

"With what?"

Avery bit his lip, glancing back at Matt. "His fists and belt mostly. A stick, chain, whatever was there."

"How--how long has he been hitting you?" Travis stammered slightly, afraid of the answer.

"Since shortly after mom left," Avery answered softly, and there were several stunned glances between the men in the room.

"What?" Matt gasped, not having realized that it had gone on for that many years.

Travis found his voice. "Wait, that was..."

"Six years ago," Avery supplied. "I was eleven."

"And the basement? Did he put you in the basement often as well?"

Avery shrugged, "Sometimes, when he was really pissed off."

"You--you were hooked to the chain by some leather braces," Travis began as he glanced at the gauze bandages wrapped around the boy's wrists. "Did he use them--?"

Avery was already nodding, now that someone knew, and they weren't judging him like it was his fault, the words just seemed to want to flow out. He didn't have to keep his secrets anymore--they pretty much already knew. And it was a bit of a relief. "He used to use rope. I wore a lot of long sleeves and even sweat bands so no one would notice the bruises. Then he found the leather braces with the rings built in, and well..." Avery shrugged. "It made things easier for him, less questions from others."

Travis could see the doctor shaking his head next to him, both were wondering just how many people had seen the signs over the years and ignored them.

Avery was quiet as Travis cleared his throat. "Avery, we got back the DNA tests. We know your father raped you before he put you in the basement," he glanced at Dr. Yates. "Um, we--um, your doctors suspect that it has happened before this. Is that true?"

Avery nodded slowly, tears slipping from the corner of his eyes. He avoided looking at Matt who was still gripping his hand, but he worried that the disgust might creep into his eyes, and he just didn't want to see that.

"Avery, I know this is hard," Travis soothed, laying a gentle hand on Avery's arm. "Remember, this is not your fault." He paused, allowing Avery to take a calming breath. "Can you tell me how many times he's--he's done that before?"

Avery shook his head, and Travis took that as a refusal to answer. "Avery, I need you to be honest with me--"

"I can't tell you because I don't know," Avery said softly. "It's been... too many times to count."

Travis Nelson looked surprised. "Do you know when he first--?"

"Six years ago," Avery interrupted, snapping his eyes to meet the sheriff's, "at Christmas."

"Shit," Travis breathed as his head dropped into his hands. He rubbed his face disbelievingly. How could a whole town of people not see what had been happening to this kid for six fucking years?

"Did he choke you often too?" Dr. Yates asked, seeing that the sheriff needed a minute to gather himself.

"Choke? What--?" Avery frowned as his hand fluttered to his neck.

"You have fingerprints on your neck," Dr. Yates' brow rose. "You don't remember him choking you?"

"Oh," Avery seemed to remember. "No, that wasn't dad, that was--" He stopped suddenly, and looked away as the sheriff's eyes snapped back to him. He glanced anxiously at Matt, who was frowning at him too.

"Who?" Nelson snapped.

"Someone else did that?" Matt asked incredulously.

"Um..."

"Avery," Travis gripped the teen's arm, "you have to tell me who's hurt you, everyone who's hurt you."

Avery's eyes dropped to the white blanket covering his lap, and he absently pulled at a loose thread. "Mr. Degasio," he whispered. "Dad left me with Mr. Degasio for a week, this holiday break."

"And uh, this Mr. Degasio, ..." Nelson broke off, unsure of exactly what to ask and how. "What exactly happened while you were with this Mr. Degasio?"

The emerald eyes flickered tearfully to the three pairs surrounding him. "Uh, the same things my dad did, just... worse."

"Jesus," Matt breathed next to him, and Avery felt a jolt of fear that he'd see disgust in the blue eyes, but they only held sympathy and love.

"And uh, who exactly was this Mr. Degasio that your father would leave you with him?" Avery could see the tension in the sheriff's jaw.

"Dad said he was a client, from his real estate. We went to his house so dad could sign some contract. At least that's what I thought."

"And that's not what happened?" Travis pressed.

"No, it wasn't. Basically, Mr. Degasio handed dad a check for ten thousand dollars and dad left me there," Avery snapped, and Travis was glad to see at least some anger over what had happened to him coming through, and not just guilt. He was quickly adding up the charges against the boy's father, and now this Degasio guy in his head as he recorded the information.

"Do you know this Degasio guy's first name?" Travis asked, fingers tightening on his pen as he itched to rush out and put out an warrant for the arrest of the man.

"William. William Degasio," Avery growled. "The sadistic bastard." Avery's eyes snapped up, glaring. "He's the one who choked me. He raped and whipped me worse than dad."

"Jesus," Dr. Yates breathed.

Matt's forehead dropped to Avery's shoulder.

"Was he trying to kill you?" Nelson cleared his throat.

"No, he just... he just choked me when ... he was ..." Avery's eyes filled with tears. "He liked me in pain when he was..."

"I see," Dr. Yates murmured.

Matt straightened suddenly. "Wait." And Avery could see the wheels turning in his head. "The night you called 911, New Year's eve... Were you... You were there, weren't you?"

Avery nodded slowly, ashamed for lying to Matt about it now.

"Wait, you called 911 and nobody did anything?" Travis asked incredulously.

"The phone was dying. It cut off a few seconds into the call."

"But," Matt looked stricken, "I called you about it; you--"

"I lied to you," Avery finished for him, fresh tears slipping down his cheeks.

"But why? I could have-- fuck..." Matt buried his hands in his head, guilt nearly crushing him at the thought he could maybe have done something before Avery had been practically beaten to death by his father.

"I sorry," Avery choked. "I know you must hate me now--"

Matt's head shot up at the same time as the doctor and sheriff both looked at him in alarm. "Hate you? Fuck, Avery, I don't hate you. I hate him. I hate that he put you through that. And I hate that you felt so scared that you couldn't tell me. Or anyone for that matter."

Avery's eyes blurred with tears.

"I--I just couldn't..." Avery whispered.

Matt grasped Avery's smaller hand, fiercely kissing his knuckles and gripping him tightly. "I know, babe. I know," Matt said, his voice hoarse with the pain he knew Avery had gone through, both physically and emotionally. "You know I'm here for you now, right? I'm not letting you go. And I'm not letting you believe any of this is your fault. None of us are."

Both Dr. Yates and Travis Nelson nodded their agreement.

There was silence for several long minutes as Matt held Avery's hand, and Avery silently absorbed the words, his eyes closed and clutching to Matt's hand like a lifeline. They all knew it would take a lot longer for Avery to truly understand and really come to grips that his father's abuse was not his fault. But at least there was a spark. A tiny start in the right direction.

"Avery, I know you've probably spent years thinking it was your fault, maybe your dad made you believe you deserved it, or even that no one would believe you if you told," Dr. Yates said gently, causing Avery to release a gasping sob. Dr Yates met Nelson's eyes sadly, knowing he was right. "But Matt is right. We're here for you. No one's going to hurt you anymore."

Avery nodded, showing he understood the words, but none of the men in the room thought he truly believed them yet. But he would--Matt vowed silently. He'd do everything he could to make sure of that. It would just take time.

"Avery, I'm going to do everything in my power to be sure your father and this..." he glanced down at his notepad, "this Degasio guy go to prison for a very, very long time. They aren't going to hurt you or anyone else again, okay?"

Nelson was rewarded with a faint smile and a barely audible 'thank you', and he grinned back. "Good. Okay," Travis Nelson rose, patting Avery's shoulder gently, offering a soft reassuring squeeze. "I think that's enough for today. I'm going to get a warrant out for this William Degasio," he stated as he headed to the door. He stopped and looked at the slender, broken body in the huge hospital bed. "Avery, son, I'm so sorry this happened to you."

He saw Avery nod slightly. The doctor followed him out the door. They both noticed the tall blond lean over and embrace the teen as Avery gripped his neck. At least the kid had someone.

"Can you believe that?" the doctor whispered, shaking his head at all that had been revealed.

"God, no," he breathed. "When I went to that house that morning.... God, I never could have imagined..."

"Nobody could have," Dr. Yates said. "Carl Greene held that kid captive in terror. Carl hid it so well, and kept the kid so ashamed to tell, that no one picked up on it."

"I did," Travis snorted an admission, and the doctor looked at him in surprise. "Fuck, just that night, I saw Avery at the diner, and it felt like something was wrong. I told myself I'd check on him later, when he wasn't with his dad... I just didn't think--"

"Travis, you can't blame yourself. How many people do you think over the years saw bruises on that kid? Noticed how sullen he was? I guarantee you, half this town will be kicking themselves for not seeing the signs earlier, believing the pitiful excuses. Carl knew how to manipulate everyone, including you. Just be thankful that he finally got caught."

"Yeah, thanks to that Andrews guy."

The doctor shrugged. "Well, you know what they say, it takes a village to raise a kid."

Travis snorted. "Yeah, and apparently a whole town to fail one."