Alright. It’s been a couple weeks. James hasn’t stolen any of my stuff and ran off to who knows where while I’ve been working this week, but I didn’t think he would. Take that, Dylan!

That’s good. Other good points would be… Other good points would be that James hasn’t had another panic attack since the shower incident. Definitely good. He is eating. Only a little bit at mealtimes, but Dr. Brennan assures me that’s how it should be right now. I haven’t been woken up by thrashing or shouting since Tuesday night. He must be sleeping more restfully. That’s grand, it is. A real relief that he can rest finally. Maybe that sleeping medication they prescribed just needed a few days to kick in.

Let’s see… My coworkers, most of them, are super helpful. That’s another thing. James hasn’t used the notepads or pens I brought home Wednesday, but that’s alright. Getting to eat Claire’s wonderful cooking yesterday evening and watch films was fun.

Downsides are… James still barely talks to me. I don’t want to push him. It’s alright that he doesn’t want to talk. It would just be easier to communicate if he’d at least write something down occasionally. Then there are those vacant stares. Those haven’t stopped. Or the tension in his posture. Or that position he does where he sits on his knees and twists his arms behind his back. I get the feeling he expects something from me when he sits like that and that whatever it is must be bad.
Is it a bad thing that he hasn’t felt the need to check his heartbeat against mine since the first time? That seems like an important action to do repetitively considering his mental disconnection between himself and being a person. I asked Sophia, but she was no help. I would ask Dylan, but he’s a jerk who won’t stop pestering me to send James to a shelter or the police.

Why won’t he just accept my decision?

Downsides are… James is often upset to his stomach after eating. Dr. Brennan said that was common for people recovering from severe malnourishment. I keep telling James I don’t mind cleaning up or looking after him when he’s shaky, but he only looks scared whenever his food comes back up on him. I suspect the handlers conditioned him to expect punishment. He thinks I’m going to punish him. Why else would he flinch away and look so scared every time it happens?

And –

Oh, what beautiful blankets!

“Wow, these are amazing! Did you make them yourself?”

“Oh yes. I love to crochet,” the woman replied with a shy smile.

She exchanged conversation with other customers while I looked the table over.

Maybe a new blanket would help with his sleeping. I haven’t been paid yet, but he could really use some more personal items than the couple of clothing and hygiene items that Dylan picked up a couple weeks ago. I don’t think he’s even used the hairbrush yet. I had to reassure him the orange toothbrush was his and point out its importance before he would touch it. He is obviously not used to having things.

And why would he be? Whoever those bastard handlers were had him long enough to convince him he was a weapon and not a person. What need would a weapon have for a toothbrush?
That reminds me. Should probably talk to him about the dentist and seeing about an appointment at some point…
He needs things. Everyone needs the basics like comfortable clothing and warm blankets. He was so relieved, absolutely shaken, when I told him he could be warm. He definitely needs a soft warm blanket that’s just his.

Alright brain... I get it. Can we pause for a bit?

Let’s see…

Oh!

“How much is this one?”

“$60.”

“Oh… I only have $30 in cash…”

Damn it. This one is soft and big and if he likes blue then it would be perfect.

“I’ll take $30 for it.”

“Really?” I asked. “You made this though. The cost of the yarn alone –”

“Don’t worry over it!” she laughed.

I dug out my wallet and passed over the last of my cash. She smiled as she packed the blanket into a sparkly bag.

“Better to make a sale at half price than none at all.”

I nodded. She shooed me away when a lad appeared behind me with a stack of blankets.

The drive back was relaxing until the doubts made a reappearance. Round and round they swarmed. Am I doing the right thing? Would it be better if he went to stay at one of the shelters?

…No. No, it would not be.

What do I actually know about him other than his name, the fact that he’s around my age, and that he has a lot of trauma to deal with?

The parking lot thankfully came into view. Then my front door. I weighed the pros and cons again. Reviewed my promises. A sigh escaped my lips as I shut the car off.

You’re the family. You’re in his corner.

Yeah but… How long does that last?

Love thy neighbor. Keep thy promises. There are people in the world who have no one, and if you can extend some comfort and kindness then you should. He hasn’t intentionally tried to hurt you. He hasn’t spoken ill of you. Barely spoken at all. In there is a man in need of a friend and a family. Think about if the roles were reversed.

Dropping temperatures immediately sprung to mind. A phantom feeling of slushy ice water seeped through the cuffs of my jeans.

…Deal with it, Dylan. You’re not getting to me with your pessimism. He stays for as long as he wants. I can make it work. This blanket is the start of better times. I can feel it.

I knocked on the door before entering. “I’m home, James.”

He was standing in a parade rest by the window when I opened the door.

“I found something on my way home that I hope you’ll like.”

I smiled, lifting the sparkly bag in emphasis. He flinched when I took a step toward him.

“Is alright, lad.” I put a few paces between us. “I can set it here for you.”

He flinched again when I tripped a little and thumped back into the couch cushions. When I looked back up from my shoes, he hadn’t made a move for the bag.

“It’s a present for you, James. I thought you’d like it.”

His brows scrunched together with a heavy blink. Dazed eyes lingered on the bag. More heavy blinks followed as his gaze shifted to me.

No. Not to me… In my direction. He keeps looking between me and a few feet to my left.

“Are you alright, lad?”

He startled with a full body shake and took a step back against the wall.

“Is alright James. You’re alright. Would you like to sit down?”

He collapsed back against the wall. His gaze weaved back and forth before a heavy blink settled his unsteady eyes, but they still weren’t centered on me. He didn’t like it at all when I got up from the couch. Or when my phone rang.

I held up one hand, hoping to placate him, before using the other to answer my phone. He hurried to press himself into the corner opposite the couch when Sophia’s voice rang out.

“Sorry! One second,” I hurried to say as I switched it off speaker phone.

“What was that about?”

I switched hands, the other immediately raising again. I nodded toward him.

“You startled us both. The phone accidentally answered on speaker,” I said.

“Oh.” And then after a huff of laughter, “How’s he doing?”

His gaze weaved again. He shook himself. Blinked rapidly to settle his gaze. Pressed himself tighter into the corner. Meanwhile Sophia started to list off signs to look for if the startle triggered him in a bad way

“Listen, Sophia – Sophia. Just a second.”

She paused.

“Thank you. Just a second. James?”

His chest heaved. I carefully got down on my good knee before settling on the floor. His gaze actually centered on me this time.

“I’m gonna be here, alright? I’ll just sit here. I’m not gonna get in your space.”

“What’s going on?”

“He’s agitated, maybe? Real unsteady. His gaze keeps weaving like he’s seeing double.”

“You said he has night terrors. Has he been sleeping?”

I glanced back at the couch. “I thought it had been better lately. None since Tuesday night that I know of. Thought the sleep medication was working.”

There was a pause on her end. I heard some rustling.

“Is alright, James,” I reassured.

He seemed very uncertain about that statement. I couldn’t blame him. I would be feeling much the same were the roles switched to what they are.

“Okay, so according to what you’ve told me he suffered night terrors every night and required heavy sedation to settle in the hospital. That right?”

“Yeah. He’d thrash and panic in his sleep. Not sure the sedation was necessary.”

“Mhm . And even though sleep medication was prescribed, you noted no change to his sleeping patterns once home from the hospital?”

“Was terrible it was,” I confirmed with a nod.

“But night terrors stopped after Tuesday night. No thrashing or shouting woke you up?”

“No. Not a bit.”

She sighed. James slid to the ground to hug his knees.

“I don’t think he’s sleeping,” she said matter-of-factly. “Tell me how he looks.”

“Like I said, his gaze keeps weaving like he’s seeing double. Backed himself into the corner. Keeps shaking himself and blinking all heavy-like.”

“It’s been about 72 ours. He’s probably hallucinating, definitely seeing double at least, and he’s shaking himself to keep himself awake. He backed himself into a corner, you said? Does he seem flighty to you, Maeve?”

“I don’t know. Just seems unsteady. Frightened.”

There was some more rustling over the line. “I’m coming over.”

James immediately tensed. His breathing sped up to an uncomfortably fast pace. Then his unsteady gaze leaped toward the window.

“That won’t be necessary,” I said loudly over her rant of how stupid I’d been to not send him away before now.

“You need help with him, Maeve. Sleep deprivation plus frightened is a bad combination. He’s volatile. Right now, he’s probably seeing double. If he hallucinates horrors, or a flashback gets too real, you could end up hurt. I’m coming over there. End of discussion.”

He flinched and went back to watching me. Both of me. However many of me he was seeing.

“What is coming over going to solve? He needs sleep. The lad can’t sleep if you come over and hassle him with questions.”

“If he lays a hand on you call the police. I’m getting my shoes on.”

The call ended abruptly. I glared at my phone.

“Stubborn woman,” I muttered as I set the blasted thing aside. “Don’t you worry. All you need is a good rest and you’ll be feeling better. I’m sorry I didn’t notice before, lad.”

His eyes snapped open with a full body shudder. He hugged his knees closer.

“It’s good I found this today. It should help, I believe.”

His eyes grew wide when I stood. Slowly, I reached to grab the bag. Stepped toward the middle of the space between us. Set the bag down.

“I saw this on my way home, and I knew I had to get it for you.”

He leaned back as I extended my hands out with the blanket. I set the offering on the floor and retreated to my spot by the couch.

“Have a look. It’s soft. Wool yarn went into making that. It’ll keep you real warm.”

His unsteady gaze snapped down to the blanket, suddenly sharply focused. His jaw clenched as he ground his teeth. Shaky hands let go of his knees long enough to form fists. His breath took another turn for too fast and shallow.

I sat still. Resisted the urge to get up and drape the blanket over him. Following through would be taking a choice away. He’s had enough of those taken from him. He doesn’t have to accept this gift if he doesn’t want it.

He looks so desperate to grab it, though. Why doesn’t he move to take it?

This might have gone better if Sophia hadn’t called. The phone call upset him. He might have been calmer if she hadn’t insisted on coming over.

His head tilted up, eyes weaving back and forth, and his next breath was a barely heard whimper. Heat prickled around my eyes. I blinked to clear the sudden wetness.

“That’s yours, James. All yours.”

Cautiously, his sharp eyes glued to me, he unfolded himself. In tiny movements he crept away from the corner and snatched the blanket from its spot before bolting back toward the corner. He settled back on the floor to run his right hand over the material. Next, he rubbed his cheek against it. A wary look was sent my way.

“All yours, James. I’m not going to take it from you.”

The assurance brought a hopeful noise out of him. He ran his hand over the material again. Buried his face against it for mere moments before methodically unfolding and feeling every inch of it.

Sophia arrived 45 minutes later. Her glare when I shushed her at the door was all sharp and panic manic. All griping stopped upon entering the living room. In the corner sat James, blanket wrapped around himself, cheek pressed against wool and wall. He was sound asleep for the first time since we had met.