Claire

Somehow, finally, Claire reached the driveway of Josh and Jacob's townhouse. She peered through the pounding rain on her windshield and saw the soft glow of light through their front window. They were still awake, thank goodness. They'd still answer the door if they weren't, the twins were light sleepers, but they'd be grumpy and she'd have to buy them the expensive coffee in the morning to make up for waking them.

“Here we are,” Claire said, glancing over her shoulder at the boy. He glanced up at her briefly and then returned his thousand yard stare to his hands.

“This is my friends' house. Jacob and Josh, they're good guys. You don't have to worry, they won't...” Claire frowned. “They won't tell anyone you've been here.”

He nodded slowly. Claire wasn't sure what response she'd hoped for.

She pulled the key from the ignition, and slid out of the car into the pounding storm. Thunder rumbled so hard the ground under her feet seemed to vibrate with the sheer force of it. Claire skidded around the car to open the kid's door and help him out. She had to reach around him to unlatch the seat belt; his hands didn't seem capable of managing the button without the added strength of adrenaline. She frowned a little at the way his fingers flexed, feeble and uncoordinated. Were those bands that tight? Were they causing some kind of nerve damage?

There was nothing she could do about it now. Claire offered a hand to help him out of the car. He accepted, but tried to walk up to the door under his own power. That didn't go well. He stumbled, tripped, and nearly crashed to the ground. Only Claire's quick grab kept him upright, but her grip left him gasping in pain. Because there was no way to avoid hitting a cut or a bruise or a burn somewhere, no matter how gentle she was.

Staggering arm in arm like a pair of drunken frat boys they made it to the little porch stoop. Claire leaned on the doorbell, teeth clattering in the cold. Just the walk from her car to the front door left her drenched. The poor kid had to be soaked straight to the bone.

The door opened a few seconds later to reveal Josh, in a worn old AC/DC shirt, flannel sleep pants, and bare feet. He was dressed for bed, but there was a calculator tucked under his left arm and an economy sized mug of coffee in his right hand. So, he had been getting comfortable for a late night study session, not about to go to bed. That relieved a little bit of Claire's guilt for dragging them into this mess.

“Claire? Why are you out in this insane storm?” he asked, then looked over her shoulder. “Who's this?”

“I'm not really certain,” Claire admitted, “I just found him, on the side of the road. He's hurt but I can't take him to the hospital because he wouldn't go and I live on the third floor of the dorm and we aren't allowed male visitors after eight and...”

Josh held up his hand, interrupting the flow of words.

“Yeah, yeah, you've found another stray. Get in here both of you before hypothermia sets in.”

Josh stepped back so Claire and the boy could fit through the door. He twisted around to yell at Jacob that they had guests, so he missed seeing the boy very well for a moment.

“Jacob! Claire's gotten herself in trouble again. Bring towels!”

Claire would have argued that she didn't get 'in trouble' all that often, except that's kind of how she met the guys in the first place, so she shrugged and called out, “First aid kit too!”

Josh whirled at that. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. He's not.” Claire nodded to the boy, who slumped against the now closed front door, obviously seconds from collapsing.

Claire could tell the exact moment Josh got a good look at the boy. His warm brown eyes widened almost comically, his face paled so that a sprinkling of freckles stood out in sharp relief. It would be funny, if things weren't so serious.

“Lots of towels,” Josh choked out, reaching for the boy's arm. “Hi, I'm Josh, professional voice of reason. Welcome to my home let's get you on the couch before you face plant onto the floor. Tile's hard.”

The boy blinked up at him, and recoiled for a moment before stumbling forward a few steps, and finally allowing Claire to help him. They made a tangled, soaked mess of a group as they moved through the front entryway into the living room. Claire managed to get the boy onto the couch before Jacob arrived in a flurry of warm, dry towels and blankets and a first aid kit and coffee. Claire was bundled up on one couch with a mug of coffee and the twins were discussing whether to offer the boy coffee or hot chocolate before she really knew what was happening.

For his part, the boy looked stunned and a little terrified. He also looked tiny and frail and helpless, especially bundled up the way he was. Somehow Jacob's big fluffy quilt, brought out of the linen closet because the boy was still shivering with just the normal towels and blankets, made him look even smaller than he was.

“Claire, where did you find this kid?” Josh whispered, while Jacob tried unsuccessfully to get the boy to accept a mug of cocoa.

“Side of the road. I pulled over, because of the storm. Could barely see past my hood. It's a bad storm.”

Josh nodded. “You're staying the night, aren't you? I mean, if the storm's that bad, you shouldn't drive in it any more.”

Claire nodded agreement. “Thanks, yeah, I'll stay. Sorry to drop, uh, this mess, in your laps but. I tried to get him to the hospital and he, uh, kind of tried to dive into traffic.”

“Why?”

“He said,” Claire shook her head, still not believing the words, although she believed the boy. “He said his master would find him.”

“WHAT?” Josh yelped, bringing both Jacob's and the boy's attention to their conversation.

“So I was wondering,” Claire continued, “if you two had anything that could cut through those, um, things. On his wrists. They're metal, and pretty solid. I tried to remove them, but they're stuck tight.”

“I... guess we could try,” Jacob said, reaching towards the boy. “Can I see what I'm working with here?”

The boy looked at him warily, and then over at Claire.

“The... benefit of the doubt?” he whispered.

“Yeah," Claire nodded.

“Then, yes.” The boy lifted both hands into sight.

Jacob knelt next to the couch, and lifted the metal band into the light. He tried to twist it around the boy's wrist, eliciting a soft whimper. The bracelet wouldn't budge.

“There's something holding this in place,” he said, leaning closer. “Josh, bring me a pen light?”

Josh handed him a small light, which he focused on the edge of the band. “Yeah. There's a little prong, I think,” he pointed to an odd indention on the outside of the band. “Here, it's holding this thing in place.”

“Not...” the boy pulled his wrist back, wincing. “not a prong. A bar.” He tapped the indentation, and twisted his wrist to show the same mark on the opposite sides. “It goes through.”

“Through your wrists? What? Why?”

The boy looked up at her. For a long time, she thought he wouldn't answer. Finally, though, he spoke. And then she wished he hadn't.