The next morning, James was sitting on his knees under the living room window. His head was bowed, arms held stiffly behind his back. His shoulders hunched up around his ears for a long moment. He looked pained as he forced them down.

Maybe last night has him anxious. I wonder if he remembers me being here or just the night terror?

“C’mere to me, lad. A nice shower will help,” I said.

He didn’t move.

“C’mere.”

The word had him standing. His head stayed bowed.

“Is alright, lad. Not gonna hurt you. Thought you’d like a shower is all. Bathroom is this way.”

I had showed it to him yesterday, but he hadn’t used the shower. Hadn’t used the toothbrush either from the looks of it.

“I’m not sure if you misunderstood yesterday, but this toothbrush is yours.”

I opened the packaging and held out the orange striped toothbrush. Eventually he lifted his head to look at me, brows furrowed lightly in confusion. I reached for the tube of plain toothpaste to squeeze a dot onto the bristles of my own. He stared at it.

“I need to brush mine too,” I added in the awkward moment.

I set his on the sink for him. Decided not to turn mine on in case the sound would startle him. Instead of picking his up, he continued to stare at me anxiously.

“I’m going to change clothes,” I said while making my way out and to my room. “Come knock on my door when you’re finished brushing your teeth and such and I’ll show you how to work the shower.”

I don’t think five minutes had passed before there was a light knock on my bedroom door. I called out for another minute as I took a different shirt from the closet to wear. Decided on sweatpants for comfort. Brushed a few tangles from my hair.

He took a step back when I opened my door. I offered him a smile as I walked back to the bathroom.

“Left knob is for hot. Right for cold. Little thingy on the faucet turns on the shower when it’s lifted,” I explained. “This is my puff. These are my soaps, but you are more than welcome to use them. We’ll get you your own when I get paid.”

I reached into the cabinet under the sink next. “This is your puff,” I explained as I pulled off the plastic tag.

Slowly he lifted his right hand. I set the yellow puff in his palm. He stepped aside for me when I moved to leave the bathroom.

“I’ll have your breakfast ready when you’re done.”

I set a banana aside for him in the kitchen. Made myself a plate of cheesy scrambled eggs and some toast for a sandwich. Poured myself a cup of coffee and stirred together his shake.

The whole time I cooked and ate the shower never came on. Didn’t come on as I was washing the dishes either. Curiosity and concern got the better of me.

“You alright?” I asked.

There was no response. I gave it an extra minute or two.

“I’m coming to check on you alright, lad?”

I tapped my fingers against the counter as the silence dragged on. Glanced at his drink. Dragged myself away from the sink to make my way back to the bathroom when a response still didn’t come.

James was standing in the bathroom doorway where I’d left him. His shoulders were hunched, posture tense. A sharp gasp tore from his throat when I tapped his shoulder. I held my hands up when his gaze whipped around in a panic.

“Is alright, James... You alright?” I asked quietly.

The panic slowly drained from his eyes as his heaving breaths slowed. He lowered his head.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, lad,” I said by way of apology. “You alright?”

Instead of answering, he got down on his knees. Twisted his arms so his hands could clasp behind his back.

“What are you doing?”

Maybe he was dizzy from what was definitely a panic attack and needed to sit? Maybe this posture is calming somehow?

Long moments ticked by with no change. I settled myself on the floor to sit across from him. Thought over a new approach to get some kind of answer.

“What made you so upset? If I know, perhaps I can fix it, yeah?”

His breathing was measured. That should comfort me, but the tense position he’s in practically screams anxiety at me. Something is wrong. Very wrong.

“What are you waiting for?” I asked.

The silence lasted a few moments longer before he quietly answered, “The Ghost is in need of punishment.”

Oh. No, that’s…

“You don’t need to be punished, lad. You were having a bit of a panic. Is alright.”

He subtly flinched when I leaned forward to try to set my hand against his shoulder comfortingly. I pulled back.

“I’m not a handler, James. I’m not going to hurt you.”

He took another deeply measured breath. A thought occurred to me.

“What were showers like when you worked with those awful handlers?”

He began to shiver, so slightly I wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t so close.

“Cold,” he said. And then more quietly, “Harsh.”

No wonder he… I dredged up painful memories.

“This place will never be like where you were,” I promised just as quietly. “I’m sorry I triggered you.”

I got to my feet. Glanced at the unused toothbrush on the sink and the puff on the floor.

“I have an idea. Would you give it a try?” I leaned down to touch his pale knuckles. “Let go, lad. You’re hurting yourself.”

He unclasped his hands immediately. I pulled back a step and gently urged him to move. Once the doorway was clear, I reached under the sink for my bubble bath. Set to work stopping the tub and adjusting the water temperature to be hot but not scalding before adding a cap of lavender bubbles. I waved him over as the tub filled.

“No more cold.”

He looked uncertain… which was an improvement. His expressions had been so blank most of the week. A neutrality to his gaze that made me nervous on occasion. I’ll take uncertainty any day.

“Do we need to wrap your arm?” I asked, jutting my chin toward his left. “Or would you like to take it off?”

He pulled back from where he had leaned forward a few inches to look behind me. Confusion took over as he examined his prosthetic. I received a head shake moments later.

“Waterproof then. That’s good. Thought it might be.”

When the tub was over half way full, I shut the water off. The thinly veiled uncertainty was back as I waved him over. I smiled to try and ease his anxiety.

Before I could excuse myself, he settled back on his knees in front of the tub and twisted his arms to clasp his hands behind his back. All of a sudden, he bent himself forward to submerge his head under the water.

Five seconds.

I took me five seconds to snap out of my shock at the abrupt display. Then I was horrified. He wasn’t moving.

I yanked on his shoulder. Struggled to pull him away. Just about lost my balance. When that did nothing, I grabbed his head and yanked it with all my strength out of the bath water. His quiet sharp gasp settled the immediate panic in my veins, but only just, as I stumbled back.

“What is wrong with you?! You could have drowned! You could have died!”

My knees gave out, dropping me down beside him. His breathing evened out quicker than I would have expected given the circumstances. His eyes were wide with fear and confusion.

Confusion? What is there to be confused about?

“Why did you do that?” I demanded. “Why James?”

He swallowed. Ducked his head.

The quietly spoken words banished my irritation in an instant.

“Performance testing?” was his next quiet question when I didn’t answer.

Performance testing… I don’t know what that even… Did they… do this to him? Did they make him hold his breath under water until he… he what?

“Handler?”

Handler… Like the people who tortured you. The people who broke you. You think I’m… But if that’s all you’ve known for months or years then what else could you think? One or two reassurances that I’m not a handler would never convince you.

“I’m not a handler James,” I reminded quietly.

I have to make this sink in somehow.

“I am not a handler and you… You are not some kind of machine.”

This has to sink in. I can’t go about my day with him thinking I’ll hurt him. I can’t let him keep thinking I’m one of those abusers.

“Do you understand James? I’m not a handler.”

Please let this sink in one day.

“I am not a handler. This wasn’t supposed to be a punishment, James. It’s a bubble bath.”

“Not… punishment?” he asked in a barely audible whisper.

I shook my head. “Of course not, lad. A shower… You felt panicked so I filled a bath for you instead. I want you to be comfortable.”

His shoulders began to lightly tremble.

“You remember what we talked about yesterday?”

I waited. The tremors became slighter. He was trying to hold himself still.

“C’mere to me.”

I need to be more careful. Statements like that… He probably thinks they’re orders. If he didn’t, he probably wouldn’t have raised his head and started toward me just then.

I stretched my legs out to make room. Lifted my arms out wide to welcome him into a hug. He froze. The gesture wasn’t recognized.

“Is alright. C’mere to me please? If you want. I think you could use a hug,” I said curving my fingers. “I know I could use one.”

A hug. Maybe asking for so much touch is a bad idea. The only touches he knows are obviously painful ones though. He needs gentle touches. He needs the option to back out. He needs to know not everything leads to pain.

The lavender scent of the bath was relaxing my frayed nerves as he decided his course of action. Surprisingly, or maybe not if he believed he didn’t actually have a choice, he scooted forward into the space between my legs. Slowly I set my arms around him.

“You can set your arms around me and hug me back if you want,” I offered as I settled his wet head against my chest.

He was rigid as I stroked his hair and rubbed light circles into the middle of his back. I could feel him shaking against me.

“Can you hear my heart beating?”

I felt a hesitant nod.

“Is your heart beating faster or slower than mine?”

There was the slightest pressure as he pushed his ear a little more firmly against my chest.

“You have one too.”

A quiet stuttering breath preceded his hoarse reply, “The Ghost is a weapon.”

Damn those abusive bastards who did this to you.

I shook my head. “All I see is James. James has a heart.”

He pressed his face further into my chest when I went to stroke his hair again. I set my hand on his damp shoulder instead.

“You’re a person, James. Just a person.”

Just have to take this slowly. I can get through to you. I know I can. I just need to be patient.

“If you press your right hand to your chest, you could feel your heart beating. Why don’t you try it?” I suggested.

The tremors shifted into shivers. I thought he might move away but he didn’t. I held him gently while he considered the suggestion.

Finally, he unclasped his hands from behind his back. Pressed his right against his chest. Moments later he shifted his left behind me to hold me closer.

He gasped like the breath had been knocked out of his lungs. Wide eyes flashed up at me. He readjusted his hold and the placement of his right hand. Moments later those wide-blown pupils flashed up at me again.

You honestly didn’t remember, did you?

A sound between a chuckle and whimper filled the quiet. I saw the smallest upturn of lips before he was looking back up at me with eyes full of wonder like when he’d been watching cartoons. I smiled back. Lifted a hand to wipe away a tear before it could fall.

“Any time you feel uncertain, any time you forget you’re human, we can do this again,” I promised. “Whenever you need to remind yourself, you can compare our heartbeats.”