Saving Ezra - 12. Chapter 12

content/trigger warning: abuse, medical, suicide

The teen woke to sunshine and pain. His arm was in agony and his head wasn't much better. The sun streaming cheerily in his window wasn't helping the headache pounding behind his eyes. Ezra had a passing worry that he might have a concussion. He didn't know exactly what that meant or what he was supposed to do about it, though.

Luke was snoring loudly, sprawled limbs taking up most of the bed. Ezra sat up slowly, careful not to wake the deacon or hurt himself further. The teen felt like he'd been run over by a truck. A big truck. Maybe several of them. He held in a groan as he glanced at the clock. The power must have gone out at some point, it was flashing twelve. It happened sometimes even when there wasn't a storm. Ezra did wonder what time it was, though. He was probably late for school, not that it mattered. He was in no shape to go.

The teen carefully pulled on his pants from the night before, unable to bear being naked. The button was gone and there was a tear in the waistband, but they stayed up and covered him. He carefully pulled on a tee-shirt, though it hurt like hell doing it. His injured arm looked wrong. The teen wondered if it was broken.

Ezra's toes bumped something cold and hard. He looked down at the Everclear bottle. He wanted to kick the thing as hard as he could, as though this was all the liquor's fault. He held back, knowing he'd just hurt his foot and probably wake the deacon. He picked it up instead. The bottle was heavy in his hand. There was still a little of the nasty booze in the bottom. Ezra's eyes skipped over to Deacon Luke, passed out on his bed. The man was curled around Ezra's pillow with his back to him.

Ezra stood silently, staring at the sleeping man's temple. Wasn't the bone thinner there? The bottle was hard and heavy. A couple of good hard swings… Ezra took a step back, horrified by his thoughts. Ezra really was touched by evil. It was clear to him. The teen tightened his grip on the bottle and carried it with him as he limped to the bathroom. Better to walk away from temptation in case the devil's whispered ideas got more insistent.

He set the bottle on the counter and opened the medicine cabinet, looking for Tylenol. He was sometimes allowed to take it. Everything hurt so badly, if there was ever a time for Tylenol, it was then. He fumbled with the plastic bottle, knocking half the contents of the shelf into the sink. Ezra nearly cried looking at it. He couldn't do anything right. Everything he touched went straight to Hell.

He sniffled as he used his good hand to begin returning things to the shelf. He paused when he picked up a full pill bottle. Hydrocodone/APAP. There was a little yellow sticker on the side. May cause drowsiness. Alcohol may intensify this effect. The bottle suggested taking one to two pills every four hours for pain. Well, Ezra had plenty of pain. He struggled to open the bottle, ending up spilling the whole thing across the counter when the lid finally popped off.

The prescription was Ezra's. They'd gotten it after an unfortunate visit to the hospital. The doctor had given them the prescription with the discharge papers. Paul wouldn't have filled it if the orderly pushing Ezra's wheelchair hadn't thoughtfully taken them down to the pharmacy before wheeling him to the car. With the friendly man watching and waiting, Ezra's father had quickly filled the prescription. When they'd gotten home, Paul had shoved the little bottle in the medicine cabinet to be quickly forgotten.

Ezra filled his plastic cup with cool water and swallowed three of the big pills down with a grimace. He set down the cup and fiddled with the remaining pills on the counter, making a circle then a square. He started building words with the stark white pills.

BAD

He slid his hand over the hydrocodone, messing up what he'd made before starting again.

SLUT

Ezra erased the word with a swipe of his hand and began again.

WHORE

EVIL

FAG

BADBADBAD

Ezra choked on a sob and began disassembling his work, each pill going onto his tongue to be swallowed with a gulp of water. In a few minutes every last chalky white pill was gone.

Ezra thought about chugging the last bits of the liquor for good measure, but couldn't do it. He dumped it down the sink, gagging at the smell. He left the bottle there and headed for the stairs.

Navigating the steps was hard. Ezra's whole body hurt. He tucked his swollen and throbbing arm close to his body and kept hold of the railing with his other hand. It felt like it took hours to get to the bottom. Ezra stumbled into the living room, avoiding the couch to sit heavily in his father's favorite chair. The teen swirled a finger across the pattern of the worn fabric, remembering his dad rocking him in the chair when he was little. Ezra's eyes fell to the small framed picture on the little table next to him. Tears tightened his throat as he picked it up with a trembling hand.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Ezra choked out softly. "I screwed everything up."

The woman smiled out at him, her chestnut brown hair blowing in an unseen wind. Ezra had her eyes.

"I want to be good, but I just can't seem to make anything go right." The teen released a shuddering sigh. "I can't fix it. The devil won't leave me alone." Tears streaked down his cheeks. "I know I'm going to hell, I won't be with you in heaven. I'm sorry for that." Ezra shook his head. "I'm sorry for everything. Please, watch over Dad."

A sudden wave of nauseating dizziness swamped Ezra. He set down his mother's picture gently, afraid of dropping the precious image. He let his head rest on the back of the chair, though it hurt the throbbing knot on the back of his skull, and closed his eyes. He was starting to feel strange and sleepy. Was that how it happened? Were the pills kicking in?

The teen felt a little cold, but it wasn't bad. Getting up for a blanket seemed too hard. A flicker of odd euphoria bubbled in his chest. It was finally going to be over. Maybe Hell wouldn't be so bad. He'd read somewhere that the modern interpretation of Hell was pulled from poor translations of the bible. Maybe going to Hell would just make Ezra's soul disappear or be immediately reincarnated, or something.

Ezra sighed softly. He was getting so drowsy. Maybe it was time to go to sleep.

The teen was just closing his eyes when the doorbell rang. Ezra frowned and decided to ignore it. Nothing seemed that important anymore. All his pain was still there, but was growing distant.

The bell rang again, followed by pounding on the thick wood. Ezra grumbled. Getting up to answer the door seemed very difficult, but it sounded like they weren't going away. Ezra heaved himself to his feet and fought his vertigo to stumble over and answer the door.

Joshua's fist was raised to bang on the door when Ezra opened it. The teen flinched back from the lifted hand instinctively. Josh dropped his arm immediately. The college student looked at Ezra in horrified shock. The teen's hair was matted with blood and looked dirty besides that. His face was a mess of cuts, bruises, and dried blood. There was even a bandage on his forehead that looked like it had bled through and not been changed. One lovely hazel eye was swollen nearly shut. Ezra hunched as though in pain, hugging one arm to his chest. It was purple and swollen above the wrist. The other arm was scraped and scarred, with fingerprint bruises around the forearm. The teen looked broken, and not just on the outside. Joshua's heart twisted painfully.

"Ez?" Joshua reached out. "Who-"

Josh was cut off by a loud thud from upstairs, followed by muffled curses.

Ezra's eyes widened in fear. "You have to go!" He pushed ineffectively at Joshua's chest. "It's not safe for you!"

"For me?" Josh growled. "What about-"

"Ezra!" The gruff bellow made the teen hunch further, as though trying to disappear. "Where the fuck are you? Get your ass back in here!"

"Was that your dad?" Joshua blurted. "Did he do this to you?"

Ezra swallowed hard and let his gaze slip to the floor.

"Luke," the teen whispered.

"That son of a fucking…" Josh gently took hold of Ezra's less injured arm and pulled him out of the house. "I'm getting you the fuck out of here."

"Joshua, I can't I-"

"No arguments," Joshua told him firmly as he steered him quickly to his little silver car. "Come with me or I call the cops right this goddamned second."

Ezra allowed Josh to herd him into the car without another word. As the car started, Deacon Luke appeared in the doorway. He looked much different from the persona he usually allowed others to see. His hair was a mess, his eyes watery and bloodshot. Morning stubble darkened his face. He only wore a pair of jeans that he hadn't bothered to button.

"Ezra!" Luke barked as Josh threw the car in reverse and squealed out of the driveway. Surprise and rage pulled his face into hard lines as the small car sped away.

"Is he following us?" Ezra squeaked.

Joshua checked his mirrors.

"No, he went back in the house." Josh glanced at the teen. "Jesus, fuck, Ez…"

"I'm sorry," the younger boy said softly as he hugged his arm to keep it from being jostled by bumps.

"Christ, don't be sorry." Joshua ran a hand through his hair. "I feel completely sure that any shit that went down in that house was entirely not your fault." His hands clenched the wheel. "How badly are you hurt?"

"I'll be okay." Ezra sounded strange, not like himself. "Are we going to your mom? Will she mind looking me over again?"

"Fuck, Ez, you don't look okay. You look like a speeding bus hit you." The college student blew out a breath. "And yeah, I'm taking you straight to my mom."

That comforted the teen until he remembered the bottle of pills he'd swallowed. She was going to be so angry and disappointed in him. Ezra's brain was so fuzzy he hadn't realized he'd spoken the last thought aloud.

"She won't be, I promise," Joshua said seriously. "You getting hurt isn't your fault."

"It's not…" Ezra bit his lip, but let it go when it hurt. "That's not why."

"Mom can be kind of annoying in mother hen mode, but she's practically a saint." Joshua watched the road, going as fast as he thought was safe. "I can't think of anything you would do that would make her mad at you."

The teen was silent, feeling utterly miserable.

"Ez?"

"I did something…" Ezra licked his split lip.

A chill went down Joshua's spine. Something was very wrong, beyond just Ezra looking like he'd picked a fight with a pissed off rhino.

"Tell me," Josh asked pleadingly.

"I…" The teen looked out the window and then at his lap. "I took some pills… a lot of pills."

Joshua thought his heart had stopped in his chest. It was lucky no one else was on that stretch of road or he might have crashed right into them. His heart started again with a painful thud that seemed to shake his whole body. He took a deep breath, trying to keep calm even as he stomped the accelerator and raced as fast as he could down the road.

"What did you take and how much?" Josh tried to keep the emotions rushing through him out of his voice. Freaking Ezra out more wouldn't help anything.

"Pain pills that I never took any of before, so the bottle was full." Ezra's voice trembled. "I can't remember the name. Hydro-something… Hydrocodeine?"

"Jesus," Josh cursed. "You took an entire bottle of hydrocodone? Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"I'm sorry," Ezra whimpered.

Joshua clenched his teeth and struggled to control himself.

"I'm not mad at you." Josh was amazed that his voice came out even and gentle when he felt anything but calm. "I'm pissed at whoever pushed you into doing it."

"It's my fault." Ezra shook his head.

"After you're feeling better, you can tell me all about it." Joshua sped through stop signs and red lights. "Right now, we need to get you to Mom."

Ezra's eyebrows furrowed. It was hard to think. Wow, they were driving fast, or maybe it just seemed fast to Ezra. Joshua had come for him, which was amazing and wonderful, but why?

"I didn't call you," Ezra pointed out.

"What?" Josh asked, confused.

"Last night, I was trying to call you and your mom." Ezra shivered. "Luke… The phone got broken before I could call. But you came." The teen looked amazed.

"Shit, Ez." Joshua felt like his heart was breaking. "After you left Friday, Mom talked to me. She wanted to know everything I knew about you." Josh took a deep breath. "Don't freak out, okay? But, after she talked to me, Mom called some DHS people she knows. She reported that she suspected you were a victim of abuse."

He turned a corner fast, pushing Ezra into the door. The teen yelped in pain.

"Sorry." Joshua grimaced. "Anyway, it was complicated since you're eighteen. Reporting child abuse is more straightforward, I guess. She reported it as domestic violence and possible dependent adult abuse." Josh sighed. "But they don't just run out right away and do whatever they do. They assign someone to the case and then begin an investigation. Mom said they were planning on talking to you at school, but you didn't go." Honking horns shouted at them as Joshua ran a red light. "I called Ms. Garcia this morning to talk to her about those assholes who attacked you. She told me you weren't there this morning." Joshua's shoulders slumped. "I got really worried. I fucking knew something was wrong. I skipped a class and went to your house." Josh shook his head. "Jesus, I'm glad I did."

"Tired, Joshy." Ezra's head lolled onto his shoulder as he looked at Joshua.

Josh glanced at the teen and noticed that the pupils in his hazel irises were narrowed to pinpricks. Shit.

"Just a little more until we get to Mom," Joshua said determinedly as he weaved around slow traffic. "She'll be upset if you aren't awake to see her." The college student felt bad using that against Ezra, but the teen had to stay awake until he could be assessed..

"Okay." Ezra blinked hard several times, trying to clear his bleary eyes.

Joshua looked at his passenger worriedly before pulling out his phone and hitting redial.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up… Mom!" Josh let out a sigh of relief. "I'm driving to you right now. I've got Ezra in the car and he's in pretty rough shape. Bruising and stuff absolutely everywhere. I think he has a broken arm and God knows what else." Josh slowed down for a red light, but sped through when he didn't see any cross traffic. "I need you not to twitch out, Mom. Ez was really worried you'd be mad at him about this." There was a pause as Abby spoke. "I know, that's what I told him. But, he's overdosed on hydrocodone." Joshua flinched at the screech from the phone. "Mom, calm down. I'm bringing him in right now. I'll be there in like two minutes."

Ezra curled in on himself, filled with shame as Joshua continued talking to his mother.

"God, I don't know, I didn't think to ask him. Shit." Josh glanced at Ezra. "Ez, I need you to hear me, okay? And be honest." His voice was grim and serious. "My mom needs to know if you were sexually assaulted."

"A-assaulted?" Ezra's voice trembled.

"Were you raped?" Joshua asked gently. "It's really important that Mom knows if you were."

Ezra didn't want to say it, but Abby said she needed to know…

"Yes," the teen whispered, body shaking.

"Fuck," Josh hissed. "He said, yes, Mom… I know… I know!" His teeth clenched until his jaw ached. "Look, we're about a block away. Can you come out and meet us?" Joshua made a turn and then another. "Okay, thanks, Mom. I love you. I'll see you in a minute."

Josh tossed his phone in the cupholder and took some deep breaths.

"You did good, Ez," Joshua said gently. "Everything's gonna be okay."

"I'm going to die," Ezra whispered.

"No!" Josh lowered his voice. "You're not going to die. We're going to take care of you and you'll be fine." He was forced to stop for traffic and he turned his head to catch Ezra's eyes. "You're going to be okay. And then, we're going to make sure no one ever hurts you again. I promise."

"You promise?" Ezra sounded more like a child than an eighteen year-old.

"Yeah, I absolutely promise," Josh assured him as he found a break in traffic and made his turn. "Do you believe me?"

"I want to," Ezra admitted dreamily. "I'm really tired."

"We're about there." Josh cut through a parking lot to avoid a red light. "Hold on for me, Ez."

It was only a few more turns before Josh parked in front of a large building.

"I thought we were going to your mom," Ezra said worriedly. "I don't want to go to the hospital."

"Mom's here working today," Joshua explained as he got out and went to help Ezra. "We're going to find her right now, okay?"

"Okay," Ezra sighed. "Then can I sleep?"

"When she says it's okay, but not before."

Ezra frowned, but let Josh help him out of the car. Joshua nearly had to carry him through the emergency room entrance.

"I need some help over here!" he shouted as soon as the doors swished shut behind him.

"You're not supposed to yell in a hospital," Ezra scolded. "People are sick and trying to rest."

"It's the ER, they're used to shouting down here," Josh soothed. "Besides, I'm afraid I'm going to drop you."

Even battered and bruised, Ezra's disgruntled look was adorable. It made Joshua's heart squeeze painfully. Ezra had to be okay. Anything else just wasn't an option.

"I'm here!" came a familiar voice as a door opened.

Abby rushed over to them with a wheelchair.

"I'm sorry," Ezra told her, tears in her eyes.

"No need to be sorry, sweetheart." Abby carefully settled him into the chair and rushed him through the door she'd come through. "If you want to make it up to me, you can do everything you can to get better. Then, everything's forgiven. Okay, hon?"

Ezra nodded sadly.

"I've been having trouble keeping him awake." Josh rushed along beside his mom. "I don't know if it's from the pills or if he hit his head."

"Got it." Abby nodded. "We'll check everything out."

She steered Ezra into a little room that seemed to be filled with people. The teen reached out with his good arm and clutched Joshua's hand.

"Josh, I'm scared," Ezra squeaked. "Please, don't leave me."

Abby looked at a tall dark-skinned woman in the center of the room who nodded.

"Ezra, honey, Josh can stay with you as long as he's not in the way, okay?" Abby parked him next to the little white bed on wheels. "These are all my friends that I work with. I told them how much I care about you, and they want to help me help you, okay?"

"O-okay."

"Sweet boy," Abby murmured as they quickly transferred him to the bed.

Everyone had to step back for a moment as the bed weighed him and the information was written down.

The tall woman crouched next to Ezra's bed.

"Hi, Ezra." Her voice reminded him of Abby's, calm but commanding. "I'm Abby's friend, Dr. Olivari. I'm the doctor in charge of the emergency room. Abby's told us some very nice things about you, and we want to help you feel better, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"We need to figure out where you're hurt, but first we need to know about the pills you took." There was no judgment in her tone, which Ezra was grateful for. "What were they and how many did you take?"

"Hydrocodone? I think that's right." Ezra looked down. "I took the whole bottle."

"How many were in the bottle?" she asked.

"I don't know." The teen shook his head. "I'm sorry. It was a full bottle. There weren't any missing."

"Thank you, Ezra." She touched his hand softly. "You're doing great. We're going to get started. Things are going to get pretty busy in here, but don't let that worry you. We're just doing what we need to, to help you. Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"That's good. I have some other things I have to see to, but Dr. Benassi is going to take care of things while I'm not here. She's the pretty one with the curly brown hair." Dr. Olivari waited for Ezra to nod before she stood and addressed her staff. "Alright, folks, I want vitals and an IV started stat. Dr. Benassi, you're in charge." A petite woman with curls tied back in a ponytail nodded and stepped forward. "I recommend a zero point four milligram bolus of naloxone and be ready to give more as needed. I don't need to tell you to make a thorough examination for injuries. I'm going to get Gibby up here to advocate." The imposing woman stepped to the door. "Keep me apprised. I'm going to make some phone calls. Remember your compassion, everyone."

With that, she left, walking quickly down the hall. She wasn't looking forward to talking to the police to report the situation. The doctor often dealt with unfortunate people injured accidentally. There was something very different about helping a patient who'd had their injuries inflicted on them purposefully. She took a fortifying breath and picked up the phone.

Back in Ezra's room, it was a flurry of activity. His vital signs were quickly assessed. Everything felt strange and unreal to Ezra as the nurse advised the doctor the teen's heart and respiratory rate were depressed and dropping. Joshua had to let go of Ezra's hand for them to place his IV. The teen bit his lip even though it hurt.

Ezra was terrified.

The room seemed too small for the number of people in it, and they all seemed to be running around doing things Ezra didn't understand. Even Abby seemed extra busy. Someone shot something into his IV and then Joshua could hold his hand again. As soon as he was able, Josh was there beside him. Ezra let out a sigh of relief and let his eyes drift closed.

"Ezra, honey, you can't sleep yet." Abby's voice cut through Ezra's haze.

"So tired." The teen forced his eyes open.

"Vitals are still dropping," someone said. "Not fast, but steady."

"I need another zero point four bolus of Naloxone."

"Zero point four of Naloxone. Yes, doctor."

Joshua let go of Ezra's hand so they could put the medicine in his IV and Ezra whined pitifully.

"Watch those vitals," Dr. Benassi told someone. "Let's get an injury catalog started. I want every scratch and bruise documented and then let's work from serious to minor."

Someone started cutting Ezra's shirt off with weird snub-tipped scissors. Ezra reached for Joshua, gripping his hand tight. Abby stepped close to the bed, distracting the teen from what the others were doing.

"Hey, honey, I need to ask you some questions that might sound a little silly, okay?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"You can call me Abby, sweetheart, remember?" She rested a careful hand on a space of unmarked skin on his now exposed shoulder. "Now, do you know where you are?"

"The hospital."

"That's right. We're going to take care of you, honey." She smiled down at him. "Can you tell me you name and age?"

"Ezra Walker." His eyes wandered down to the woman cutting off his pants. His heart gave a painful thud. "I-I'm eighteen."

"They're just making it so they can see where you might be hurt without having to move you around. Everything's going to be okay." She patted Ezra's shoulder when he turned his attention back to her. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Sunday?" Ezra frowned. "Or is it Monday? I can't remember."

"That's alright, honey," Abby soothed. "Did your head get hit at all?"

Luke kicked the door with every bit of strength he had. The hinges broke as it burst open, flinging Ezra across the room. His head struck the knob on a drawer and his vision spun sickeningly.

Ezra squeezed Josh's hand again.

"The dresser…" The teen took a shuddering breath. "I was holding the door closed and he kicked it open. My head hit the dresser."

Abby looked at Dr. Benassi meaningfully. The doctor nodded in acknowledgement. They'd have to do a neuro check.

"Does your head hurt?" the doctor asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Ezra admitted.

Dr. Benassi had quite a few questions for him. Ezra answered as well as he could. No, he didn't think he'd lost consciousness, though he had fallen asleep later. He hadn't had any seizures that he knew of. The thought that it had been a possibility was kind of scary, though. Yes, his balance was messed up. It had been off since he'd woken up that morning.

Ezra had trouble with remembering the short lists of words and numbers the doctor asked him to repeat. Abby patted his shoulder and told him not to worry, it had been a stressful day.

He followed the doctor's finger with his eyes and flinched when a penlight flashed at him. He blinked blearily.

"I think I'm gonna throw up," Ezra groaned.

Luckily a nurse was there with a basin and Josh didn't pull away. Vomiting made his head pound.

"Pupillary reflex is even, but I still want a CT as soon as is reasonable." The doctor put her little penlight back in her pocket. "Where do you hurt the worst right now, Ezra?"

"My arm… Is there something wrong with my brain because I hit my head?"

"You might have a concussion," the doctor explained gently. "But your symptoms suggest it's probably not severe. So, try not to worry. Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The doctor looked at a paper a nurse handed her. "The medicine we gave you seems to be counteracting the hydrocodone you took. That's good news." She put the note in her pocket. "Now, let's have a look at that arm and see if we can get you feeling better."

While Ezra's arm was being assessed, a young woman in brightly colored scrubs came in the door and then stepped to the side, out of the way. She drew Ezra's eye. The woman seemed to be the only one in the room not busy with something. She was waiting, but looked calm and serene. The doctor ordered for the portable X-ray to be brought in and noticed the woman patiently waiting.

"Gibby, glad you could make it down on such short notice." Dr. Benassi's smile was genuine. She waved Gibby over and turned to Ezra. "This is Serena Gibson. She's a special victim's advocate for the hospital. She's here to help you, guide you through the process, and make sure that everything is a easy for you as possible."

"Everyone calls me Gibby." She gave a little wave as she walked closer, careful to give Ezra space. "Right now, everyone is scurrying around to get you on the physical road to recovery. I won't lie to you, what comes after this is going to be hard, and it may get uncomfortable and scary, but I'll be with you the whole time. You're my number one priority. I don't answer to any of the doctors or the police. I'm here for you." Her smile was kind. "Would you like me to do that for you, Ezra?"

"Can Joshua stay with me?" the teen's voice was small.

"As long as you want him with you and it won't compromise your medical treatment, he can stay as much as you want him to," she explained. "And if there are some parts where you'd like him to step outside the room and then come back, that's perfectly acceptable, too."

Ezra looked up at Joshua, wondering if the college student even wanted to stay. His face was worried, which looked wrong on him. Ezra thought he should always be smiling. He seemed to want to be there, holding his hand, but…

"You… You can go if you want to, Joshua," Ezra said, looking down. "I'm sure you have things to do. Don't you have classes?"

"Do you want me to leave?" Josh asked carefully.

"Only if you want to…"

"Then, I'll stay as long as you need me." Joshua gently brushed Ezra's hair from his eyes. "If I left, I'd just worry. I'd rather be here with you. Does that sound okay?"

"That sounds really good." Ezra started to relax against the pillows.

"Since someone else hurt you, they are going to want pictures of you and your injuries." Gibby chose her words carefully, trying not to upset the poor kid further. "If I have your permission, I'll take some discreet pictures of what I can see. I won't take any pictures of anything a bathing suit would cover. Is there anything you don't want me to take a picture of?" she asked. "And if you don't want any pictures taken now, I completely understand. However, later, your injuries will need to be carefully documented, and they will probably want pictures. So, you should be ready for that."

"O-okay," Ezra said softly. "You can take pictures." Maybe if she took pictures, no one else would need to.

"If you're ever uncomfortable with anything I'm doing, let me know right away," Gibby told him. "You can say something or even just raise your hand and I'll check in to make sure you're okay, alright?"

Ezra nodded nervously. Gibby had a little digital camera she used. It didn't use a flash and there was no click noise when it took a picture, so it wasn't as invasive as Ezra thought it might be. He wasn't even sure what all she got pictures of. She stayed out of the nurses' way, but was always only a few steps away from him.

When they got his pants and underwear off, Gibby insisted that Ezra's body be covered with a sheet or blanket, except for the area that they were currently working on. No one questioned her, and soon a warmed blanket was draped over him. Ezra was grateful. He'd felt so exposed.

Except for the overdose, there were no life-threatening injuries. Once his vitals had stabilized and he wasn't in danger from taking so many hydrocodone, they gave him a non-opiod painkiller. It was welcome, even if it made him feel a little loopy. His arm was X-rayed and set, which was an unpleasant and stomach-turning experience. The doctor told him that since the break had happened the night before, the muscles and tendons around the break were tight, making the process more difficult. Ezra was happy when Joshua was able to come back and hold his hand again.

His pain was much better, but his mind was whirling unpleasantly. Everything felt out of control. His father was going to be so angry. It made Ezra's stomach churn and his heart feel cold. He didn't know what was going to happen after his dad showed up, but it wasn't going to be good. And Luke… he had looked absolutely furious. Ezra shivered and Joshua tucked his blankets up higher on his chest. Here at the hospital, Ezra felt relatively safe. Abby and Josh were there. They wouldn't let anyone hurt him. The teen thought the woman, Gibby, would probably look out for him, too. Eventually he'd have to go home, though. That was going to be bad.

Ezra was pulled from his thoughts by a soft knocking on the door frame. The dark-haired woman doctor who'd been there when he'd first arrived was back.

"Hello, Ezra." She smiled gently. "I'm glad to see you doing a little better. I have some people here who need to speak to you."

Ezra's heart flipped, worried about who it could be. Was it his dad and Deacon Luke? He couldn't face seeing them yet, but it looked like he had no choice. The doctor was stepping aside to allow them in. But it wasn't his dad and the deacon.

Two uniformed police officers stepped into the room and looked straight at Ezra.