He had been calm during the ambulance ride. Hadn’t said a word when questioned so I had to try and answer the paramedics in his stead with my limited knowledge. It wasn’t until a blood draw had been attempted in the ER that he suddenly panicked.

He shattered the syringe in his metal hand. Knocked the tray of medical supplies over in his haste to get off the hospital bed. I tried to calm him down but was quickly shoved out of the way by another nurse calling for assistance. My hiss of pain as I hit the polished tile set him into motion again. At least I think it might have been.

One moment I was on the ground, the next I was swept up into his arms. He tried to run with me. Hospital staff boxed him into a corner. Whatever reassurances they were offering fell on deaf ears as he frantically looked around for an escape route. His chest was heaving with panicked breaths. Even my words didn’t seem to reach him. When he let go of my legs to reach for a nearby IV stand I set my hands on his cheeks. The action grabbed his attention like I had hoped.

“Is alright, lad,” I tried to soothe with a low voice over the din of noise. “What’s wrong? The needle? Was it the needle?”

 His eyes kept darting to the doctors and nurses closing in around us. His arm around my shoulders tightened as he backed us closer to the wall.

“You’re alright, lad. I’m not going anywhere. They’re not trying to hurt you. They just need to draw some blood. Find out what you were dosed with,” I explained as I brushed my fingers through his bangs.

He shook his head.

His shoulders hit the wall. A voice rose above the rest, demanding the staff make space to breathe.

“You’re alright. Is gonna be alright.”

Panicky eyes met mine again. I tuned out as much of the noise of voices and monitors as I could. Took a deep breath and he took the next one with me.

It took a good few minutes to get him calm enough to let me go. The crowd had thinned to get other patients back to their rooms or out of the way. The one nurse who had stayed behind must’ve been having a bad day. She was so rude while leading us back to our curtained off section. Got worse when I shoved myself between him and her.

“Do you want this done or not?” she snapped.

“We’ll wait for someone who cares enough not to be rough.”

She rolled her eyes. “This is the ER. You get who you get.”

“He just had a panic attack not even ten minutes ago. We’ll wait for someone who’s not gonna manhandle him.”

“Fine!” She threw her hands up. Tossed the syringe back onto the tray. “I’ll let someone know you want a newbie to do the blood draw.”

Give me patience. Why did we have to get stuck with the mean one on shift?

He flinched when I pressed a piece of gauze against his skin. Settled his breathing along with me, eyes locked onto my hand as I moved it up and down with my deep breaths, and seemed to almost doze off before someone finally came to check on us.

A couple hours later and here we are in our own room. A shared room would be too much of a hazard for other patients I had been told. This will add to the bill I’ll be getting later but what could I say? No, a shared room please so the bill is cheaper? It’ll cost a few pretty pennies either way.

The unshared room proved to be a necessity anyway when he had another panic attack. Not even sure what set it off. He had seemed alright and then he was trying to bolt, flipping an empty stretcher that had been rolling past to give him a straight path out. Me telling him to stop was taken more seriously than the nurse’s shout to settle down. I knew it was my words, not hers, by the steady look he gave me as he cautiously came back to bed. Hopefully, not having all the extra people and noise will help him stay calm I had been told. It’s difficult seeing him lie here, his breathing slow and measured, glazed eyes half-lidded and glued to my face.

“I’d like to keep him here for a few days. Maybe a week since he’s so malnourished,” the doctor was saying. “The results of the second tox screening were disconcerting. You were right to bring him in.”

The lad blinked heavily, eyes only opening halfway again. I squeezed his right hand. Felt his fingers lightly grasp mine back.

“What did you find?” I asked, taking my eyes off him for a few moments to address the doctor.

“Confidentiality laws forbid me from disclosing such information with people other than relatives. Is there a family member we could call for him?”

I shook my head. “I wouldn’t know where to start. I found him last night bleeding and staggering in the alley by my apartment.”

 “Do you know his name?” the doctor asked.

I shook my head again. “The police have already been by to take a statement. Said he’d call if the lad’s prints pointed anywhere.”

 The doctor nodded. I looked back at the lad in time to see another heavy blink. He lightly squeezed my fingers. I squeezed back. Leaned forward to brush a few sweaty locks behind his ear.

“Look...” I sighed, turning my gaze back to the doctor. “I don’t know where he came from, but someone is out there that hurt him and drugged him and…”

I shook my head with a shaky sigh. Gently squeezed his hand. He lightly squeezed back.

“He’s strong and he got away, but whoever they are they’re still out there. For whatever reason the lad was in that alley. He didn’t bolt in the middle of the night… He swept me up in the middle of a panic attack hours ago thinking to protect me from the hospital staff. Until I hear otherwise, I’m what he’s got. I’m the family.”

“Miss O’Shea, you are not a blood relative-”

“But there are cases where a guardian is appointed,” I cut in.

“This is not the same,” the doctor countered with a head shake.

His expression was neutral, but his tone screamed disapproval.

I know it’s not. It’s not the same. I know. I just-

“Miss O’Shea, I understand your concern, but the reality is that you don’t know this man. You don’t even know his name. I recommend that you leave the proceedings to the police. They can direct him to family or the appropriate shelter after his stay here.”

I looked back down at the lad. Resisted the urge to do more than gently squeeze his fingers when a soft little scared sound left his lips. He blinked up at me at the feeling.

The doctor made sense. I don’t know this lad’s name. That is true. Don’t know his history other than his most likely being military. Don’t know where he came from or who’s after him. Trying to take him home in a few days could end up disastrous for me in the long run.

Still… If it were me lying in this bed…

“Would you like me to contact someone from the police station for you?”

I hesitated.

He could end up on the street once he leaves here if the police can’t find family to claim him. He had no ID. Didn’t even have a wallet. If they don’t find anything…

My fingers were lightly squeezed. I focused on the lazy back-and-forth motion of his thumb over the brace on my wrist.

He took a deep breath through his mouth. It stalled a moment before he exhaled through his nose. His fingers squeezed mine again. I squeezed back.

“Miss O’Shea?”

He angled his head slightly higher on the pillow. Licked his chapped lips and squeezed my fingers a little firmer.

“Yes?” I asked quietly.

“Your decision Miss O’Shea?” the doctor prompted.

“I think he’s trying to speak. Give me a moment,” I said to the doctor and turned back to look at him. “Go ahead, lad.”

He opened his mouth. A rough sound that might have been a word quickly got cut off as he cleared his throat. He licked his lips again. Angled his head closer to me on the pillow. I stood and leaned over the bed so he wouldn’t have to strain his voice.

The hoarse whisper in my ear had my lips quirking in a smile. I stroked some of his mussed locks back behind his ear. He blinked heavily as I smoothed a thumb over his brow.

“Miss O’Shea?”

I sat back in my chair with my mind made up. Shook my head at the doctor.

“Until I hear otherwise from the police, I’m what he’s got. I’m in his corner.”

The doctor sighed. “Miss O’Shea, I really don’t think-”

“He’s putting a lot of trust in me despite what happened. Right now, I’m what he’s got. If the situation was reversed, I’d be damn grateful to have someone sitting with me through all this.”

“I understand you have a caring heart. You’ve come in with other veterans from the VA for appointments before. This is different though. You don’t know this man.”

“His name is James.”

The doctor looked between the two of us in confusion.

“That’s what he said a moment ago,” I confirmed.

He pulled the clipboard from the foot of the bed to scribble on and asked, “Did he give a last name?”

“No. Just said the one word.”

Before he could ask another question, a nurse came to fetch him. I looked back at James as he swiped his thumb over my wrist brace. His eyes were drifting again.

“I’m not gonna leave you to deal with this alone. I promised you that.”

His head rolled on the pillow to face the ceiling. He pulled in a deep breath, fingers firmly squeezing mine, and blinked a few times in a familiar attempt to wake himself up. A frustrated sound came from his throat as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

“I know it’s frustrating,” I soothed. “They sedated you.”

He angled his head to look back at me. There was the slightest hint of annoyance shining in his eyes. A quiet chuckle built in the back of my throat at his irritated huff, but I kept it in.

“You flipped a stretcher during your second panic attack James. Someone almost got hurt the third time. I don’t like it either but I couldn’t stop them.”

Thank God it had been empty. Good thing our next nurse had been a lad too.

“It won’t last forever,” I promised.

He squeezed my fingers. Rubbed his cheek back and forth on the edge of the pillow. His next open-mouthed breath was shuddered as shivers set in.

“I’ll get you more blankets, James. Try to rest.”