***TW: Death, domestic violence
I'm at work when I get a very odd text from Harris. He wasn't home when I left even though I waited because I have very good news for him. I kept thinking he'd call, hoping he'd call, so I could tell him but instead I get this while I'm with someone:
Harris: Can you come home?
I'm getting ready to reply when another comes through.
Harris: Please. I'm sorry.
He has never once asked anything of me, not really. No one does. People don't expect me to help but he does. I don't hesitate, typing him a shitload of texts once I'm on the bus.
Mateo: omw
Mateo: What's wrong?
Mateo: I will be there in fifteen more minutes
Mateo: Are you okay?
He doesn't respond to any of them and by the time the bus pulls up in front of our stop, I am at the door and ready to jump off. I run up to the trailer but slow when I see him sitting outside in one of our chairs. I catch my breath for a second, this boy is not used to running, and then it is immediately knocked out of me when I get close enough to see that he is splattered in blood. "Harris!" I rush over to him but he doesn't respond at all. I smack him in the face. "Are you DEAD?!?!" I ask rapidly in Spanish and then in English for good measure.
He responds to the smack just a bit, turning towards me. Thank God. "Mateo?" Jesus Christ, is he bleeding out and hallucinating? Does he have a head injury? Maybe he's seeing double. How does he not know who I am? I reach for my phone to call 911 when he reaches for my hand. "Teo."
Better, at least that time it wasn't nearly as much of a question. "You are covered in blood!"
He looks down, as if he doesn't know it's there. Then he almost whispers "It's not mine."
I crouch between his legs, a position I am good at, and take both his hands in mine. Good. Good. And then I realize that it must be someone's and it is likely someone he or I care about. "Who? Who is hurt? Harris! Talk to me."
"I'm sorry. I'm... I get stuck sometimes. I..."
And yes, it takes me that long to realize that he's having an episode like he did the night of the fireworks. I give myself some grace, the blood sort of threw me off. I have triggered him enough to know the look, to understand that he doesn't always have very much control over his words or actions. He's trapped in his head. Okay, he's stuck. How do I get him unstuck? If he's in a loop or memory, these clothes can not be helping. "Come inside. You must shower." Water heals most things. Sometimes you need to cry. Often being at the beach is soothing. Showers are easy and can wash away much more than dirt and blood. "We will have a shower and then tea. Come."
He doesn't stand on on his own but lets me help him to his feet and we awkwardly make our way inside. Then I realize that he won't shower by himself; I will have to help him. It takes me a moment to decide whether this is okay but I decide that since we were naked together at the hot tub, this is no different. I can not let him stay in bloody clothes, it's simply not an option. I settle for telling him everything I'm going to do while looking at his face for any hint of reluctance on his part. "I am going to take off your shirt. Raise your arms a bit."
He allows me to move them and holds them up so I take that as consent. We make it through his shoes, socks and pants before I start the water. There's very little space in this bathroom but if I sit on the toilet and toss the clothes outside, we manage to make it work. Steam starts to fill the space, even with the door open, and I stand and look him in the eye. "I can leave now and you can remove your boxers and take a shower, or I can help you. What do you need?
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
The Magic Of Mateo
सामान्य साहित्यSometimes what you want isn't what you need. This is Mateo's story from the Dominant Doctor universe. I don't plan on starting it yet, but it will magically appear here soon.
