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Dennis was still curled tightly on the couch when Jack and Robby returned from the hallway. His tears now dried and sticky against his thin, pale face.
Jack sat beside him slowly and carefully. His eyes softening as he gazed into Dennis’ exhausted face. He gently reached his hand out, offering consolation without pressure. Without even thinking about it, Dennis sunk into his embrace, allowing Jack to hold him.
The words teetered on the brink of Jack’s tongue. He didn’t know how to bring it up. He didn’t want to scare him. He was like a little mouse, terrified and small.
”Denny,” Jack began softly, his words hesitant. “You’re staying here tonight. So Robby and I can look after you.”
Dennis’ head snapped up, violently.
“What? No - no, I can’t. I have to go home.”
Robby sat on the coffee table directly in front of the boy, lowering his head the way he did when talking to patients, meeting Dennis’ teary eyes.
“Where’s home, Dennis?”
Dennis’ breath caught.
He opened his mouth and closed it, and opened it again. His words faltered as he tried to defend himself.
”I - I have a place.” He whispered, the lies burning on his toungue. ”I do. I promise. Just… take me there.”
Robby chewed his lip, nodding gently, humouring the boy’s lies.
”Okay, kiddo. Tell me the address.” His voice was gentle, not accusing, but Dennis froze. His throat worked, but no sound came out.
Robby’s voice softened further, as he gazed gently into Dennis’ panicked face.
Jack let out a quick, gentle exhale. A smile filled with pity and sadness tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“You don't have a home….” He began, his voice soft with something Dennis had never heard before. He wasn’t sure quiet what emotion it was. And that scared Dennis.“- Do you, baby boy…?”
The nickname slipped yet again, out of Jack’s mouth, as naturally as air. Jack didn’t care. Dennis didn’t notice, he was too busy panicking.
“No. No. No!” His voice rose with every word, panic screaming from his tiny body. “No, I do, I promise…” his voice cracked and broke.
Robby felt his heart crack, as he nodded at their boy in front of them, no longer looking like the 20 something med student they had come to know. No - as Dennis sat, quaking with fear, he looked small. Like a kid again.
“It’s okay, baby, baby boy.” Jack whispered again, his voice breaking with emotion. Dennis noticed this time. He noticed the nickname. His breathing hitched. He felt it. He heard it. It landed somewhere deep and warm. He didn’t react outwardly, not much anyway. His eyes flickered, a flame tiny in his eyes, and a tiny flutter in his chest.
Jack continued, still unaware he had said anything unusual.
“We think you’ve been staying at the hospital, My love.”.
Dennis’ face crumpled.
“Is that right?” Jack asked, his voice still soft.
“I’m sorry.” He choked, behind sniffles and sobs, “I didn't mean to lie… I just… I didn't want to be a problem.”
The burning weight of lying to the men was too much, and he folded over, crumbling into Robby’s lap.
Robby didn’t flinch, or stiffen. He just caught Dennis, strong arms bracing his shoulders, one hand cupping the back of his head, gently guiding him until his face was pressed into the soft cotton fo Robby’s scrubs.
Robby gently rubbed Dennis’ back, his voice a warm hush.
“shh, shh… bubbeleh, breathe. You're alright.”
Dennis didn't know what’s the nickname meant. But it sounded safe, it sounded soft. It sounded kind.
“I’m sorry.. I’m sorry…” Dennis continued, sobbing.
Robby stroked his hair, his hand snagging in the blonde curls, slow and steady.
”You’re not in trouble, shayner boychik. You're scared, that's all.”
Dennis sobbed even harder, fingers clutching at Robby’s scrubs like it was the only thing stopping him from drowning.
Jack knelt bedside them, wincing in pain as his prosthetic dug into him. Matching Robby’s tone, he whispered into Dennis’ ear-
”Baby boy, Look at me.” Dennis lifted his head, just slightly as Jack continued gently, "You're staying with us tonight. “
Dennis shook his head against Robby's chest, his tears still streaming, staining Robby’s scrubs as he did so.
“No - no, please, i can go home - let me go home-.”
Robby tight end his hold, restraining Dennis’ harming hands as he brought them up to hit himself in the head again, anchoring Dennis.
”Dennis, sweetheart..” he murmured, “You don't have a home to go to.”
”I do...” He voice came out small and weak, as if he was pleading the lie to turn to truth, “I promise, I-“
Robby’s heart cracked as he soothed their boy.
“It’s alright, motek. You don’t have to pretend.”
Dennis didnt try to argue this time. He just cried. Small, broken and quiet, until the sobs faded into hiccups, and into trembling breaths. Robby just kept stroking his unruly curls.
Eventually, Dennis’ body sagged with exhaustion, his cheek rested fully against Robby’s thigh, his breath warm against the fabric. His fingers loosened their grip, his shoulders dropped.
Robby shifted ever so slightly so their boy was more comfortable.
”Good boy,” He murmured softly, love so clear in his voice. “You just rest now.”
Dennis didn't respond, he was too tired and wrung out. He felt safe and loved, something Dennis had never felt. It was strange, but he couldn’t say he didnt like it.
Robby reached for the book on the table, and opened it with one hand.
“Come on sweetheart,” he whispered. “Let me read to you. You can just sleep.”
His voice was low and warm. Dennis’ breathing slowed, his eyelids fluttering shut as he melted into Robby’s lap. Finally letting his full weight collapse into Robby.
He fell asleep hallway through the second page, but Robby kept reading anyway. Because Dennis’ sleeping form relaxed just a little more with every word as Robby’s low voice rang out throughout the quiet apartment.
Jack watched from the armchair, his heart twisted at the sight. The sight of Dennis, curled into Robby’s lap, tear stained and exhausted. Someone who had never been held safely before. Finally, he wasn’t fighting. He just slept.
Nearly an hour later, Dennis was still asleep in Robby’s lap. His breathing was soft and uneven, his curls sticking to his damp cheeks.
Robby closed the book gently, and looked over to his husband sat in the armchair.
“We’re not putting him in the guest room.” Robby whispered, “He needs eyes on him tonight.”
Jack nodded immediately, no protest in sight.
“Oh absolutely." He said, “Our room.”
Robby slid one arm under Dennis’ knee and the other behind his back. As he did so Dennis stirred sweetly in his sleep, mumbling something unintelligible. It was a soft, exhausted sound that escaped him.
Jack opened the bedroom door, pulling the covers back.
Robby lowered Dennis onto the bed with infinite care. Dennis curled instinctively toward the warmth that he had been separated from, his fingers brushing weakly at Robby’s scrubs.
Jack’s heart melted, “Easy, baby boy.” He murmured, “We’ve got you.”
Robby reached down to pull the duvet up, brushing Dennis’ underlayer shirt up slightly as he did so.
Both men froze.
Dennis’ forearm was littered with thin lines. Some straight, some jagged. Some old enough to be silver, many new, dark red and sore.
Robby’s breath caught. “Oh, oy, bubbeleh…”
Jack swallowed hard.
They just gazed at each other, pain in their eyes.
Neither said a word. This was worse than either of them had expected.
Jack peeled back the sleeve further, noticing a few spots of dried blood closer to the top of his arm, very recent.
”Mikey… grab the fist aid kit.” Jack’s voice was hoarse and broken, as he fought back tears.
When Robby had returned, Jack was struggling to get Dennis out of the scrub shirt he was wearing, and the underlayer.
Dennis didn't wake, only sighing softly, exhausted.
But when the shirt came off, both men froze.
Dennis was wearing a binder.
A well-worn one, too old, too tight. Clearly worn because he cant afford a new one.
Jack and Robby exchanged a look. Suddenly, things made sense. They had clicked into place. The guilt, the shame, the abuse from his family and church.
Robby whispered, voice as soft as a prayer,
“We missed so much.”
Jack nodded solemnly, his eyes shining
”We missed all of it.”
But neither of them said a word. Not now. Not whilst Dennis slept. Not whilst he was vulnerable. They simply accepted it, accepted him. And moved on with gentle care.
They set out to work, gentle and steady. Cleaning up their boy, in silence.
Jack threw an old sleep shirt over to Robby, the softest one he could find, who put it on Dennis, with care. When they finished, Jack pulled the duvet up to Dennis shoulders.
The pair sat on the edge of the bed, watching him sleep.
”He hides so much. He’s gotten good at it.”
”I know, sweetheart.”
”He looks like a kid,” Robby whispered.
Jack nodded back, a gentle smile creeping softly across his lined face.
Robby hesitated, “Jack…”
”Yeah, baby?”
”The way he looks at you… at us…”
Jack’s jaw tightened slighty and he let out a soft sigh.
”I know. He’s falling for us.”
Robby nodded slowly, “And we’re falling for him. This sweet boy. This poor sweet boy.” His voice trailed off as he smiled sadly at Dennis. Curled under their Duvet, breathing softly, his scars hidden. Finally at peace.
Jack’s voice dropped to a whisper, “Our little mouse.”
Robby smiled back, sadly.
Jack brushed a shaking thumb across Dennis’ warm cheek
”We have to be careful. He’s fragile. He’s hurting. He’s never been loved safely before.”
Robby exhaled, nodding.
“We don't let him go back to sleeping at the hospital.”
“Never.”
Jack wasn’t sure how long they had been sat there, watching Dennis’ chest fall and rise as he slept, but he knew it had been hours.
Thats when it happened.
Dennis took a sharp inhale, like his body finally reminded him of some danger. He jolted upright, his eyes widening, his chest heaving.
He didn’t know where he was, or what the hell was going on. The room was warm, the sheets were soft and unfamiliar.
He scrambled backward violently, until his head smacked against the headboard, clutching the duvet to his chest.
Jack sat forward instantly.
“Denny? Hey, hey its okay, you're safe.” He soothed instantly, climbing awkwardly into the bed, trying to reach Dennis.
Dennis shook his head violently, “Don't hurt me, I’m sorry. I can be good. I’ll be her again. I’m sorry, don't tell Dad, I’m sorry… please.”
Robby’s face fluttered with confusion as he glanced over at Jack, who just shook his head.
Dennis’ voice cracked, turning into a sob. Robby moved slowly, his hands raised.
“Sweetheart, look at me. You're with us. You're in our room. You’re safe.”
Dennis didnt hear him, still mumbling, tears meeting his sunken cheeks for the millionth time that day. He was somewhere else. Somewhere old. Somewhere he had survived, not lived.
“please.. don't get him… He’ll hurt me. I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be Kathy again… I’m sorry.”
Jack moved closer. The sight of Dennis so distressed upset him, tears were welling in his eyes as he tried to comfort their boy.
“Denny, baby boy. You're dreaming.”
Yet Dennis shook his head, his breathing fast and shallow.
Robby reached out, “Dennis. Listen to my voice. You're safe. You're with us. It’s Robby. And Jack. You are Dennis Whitaker. Our med student at PTMC…” His voice trailed off, he was trying so hard to bring back Dennis. His voice rising and speeding up as he cupped his face, stroking the falling tears away.
Jack lowered his face, tilting toward Dennis’ eyes, trying to break through this dream.
”Look at me, little mouse.”
Dennis’ eyes finally met his, but they were confused and terrified. He was still lost.
His voice broke, barley audible. “I can be Kathy again… I’m sorry…”
Robby swallowed hard, meeting Jack’s eyes.
”Kathy,” he mouthed, “Is that…?”
Jack nodded slowly, a grimace appearing across his face. “His deadname? I think so…”
Dennis flinched at the word, curling inward.
“Please don’t hurt me again… I‘l be her again. I’ll be good.”
Jack shook his head firmly.
”No. No, baby boy. You don't ever have to be her again.”
Robby moved closer, his voice soft and steady,
"You're Dennis.” He said, emphasising his name with a sense of finality. “Our Dennis.”
Dennis' breath hitched, “But my dad.. He said… He would hurt-“
Jack felt a tug in his chest, but he shoved it down, dropping his voice to a whisper, firm and grounding.
“Your dad isn’t here.” He said, joined with Robby’s insistent nodding. “Youre not with him. You're not in that house. You're not that little kid anymore.”
Dennis reached up to Jack’s shirt, and Jack placed his hand over Dennis’ trembling fingers.
“you’re Dennis. You're kind. You're brilliant. You’re ours to look after tonight.”
“You’re Dennis.” Robby repeated, stroking his face again. “And we’re keeping you safe.”
Dennis nodded, sniffling as he did so. His body reacted before he could even think, reaching out to the older man. Robby folded instantly, sinking into the bed with Dennis, pulling the duvet over them both, holding him as he fell asleep.
Soon after, Jack crawled onto his side of the bed.
And there, for hours, Dennis lay, sandwiched in between the two men, who promised, to keep him Safe.