Page 7 of The Road Home
CHAPTER FOUR
Jared watched the young man as he wrapped the cast he'd just put on his arm. It wasn't a bad break, but he was glad the guy came in. It wouldn't have healed well on its own. He'd ignored the evidence of other breaks he'd seen in the x-ray. What the hell had this guy been through over the last few years?
What hit him most was how his own life could have taken the same path. He was sure that if he'd come out while still living at home, his own parents would have probably kicked him out too. He wouldn't have gone to medical school, wouldn't have the life he had now. But then again, maybe he'd have gone off with Daryl and they would have been happy together. They'd only been sixteen at the time, but to this day he still didn't doubt the feelings they'd shared.
"Done?" Orson gently moved his casted arm.
Jared forced his attention back to his patient. "Sorry, was just thinking." He snipped the bandage and pushed his chair back. He'd treated all the injuries he could see. Now he needed to try and get Orson to let him help with the ones he couldn't see. "Can I take a look at that bruised rib? Make sure it's not broken?"
Orson sighed. "I guess, but I've had broken ribs before and this isn't anything like it. It doesn't hurt nearly as bad as other times. There's a slight bruise, but nothing to make me think it's broken."
"Let me be the doctor and see." Jared stepped back, allowing Orson room to lift his shirt. When it snagged on the new cast on his arm, Jared reached over to help ease it off his arm. As the shirt dropped, he sucked back his reaction as he saw the bruises that covered Orson's body.
"It's not as bad as it looks." Orson moved his arms over his stomach as if trying to hide.
Jared shook his head. "It is. What did they do to you?" As soon as the words were out he wished he hadn't said them. He was all too sure what had been done to him. "Let me feel." He gently pushed Jared's arms from his body, so he could run his fingers over his bruised skin to feel his ribs. "Where does it hurt the worst?"
Orson ran a finger over a darker bruise on his left side. "I remember they kicked me a couple of times, but then I think I passed out."
He saw in Orson's eyes that he remembered much more than he was telling him. "It doesn't feel broken, but we should do some x-rays to be sure. A bruised rib is nothing to sneeze at. I fell off a horse years ago and bruised mine. I thought I was dying. Either way, I'll give you something for the pain."
"I don't want anything. I don't like drugs." Orson met his eyes for the first time since he'd come in.
"You don't have to be in pain."
"Then give me Tylenol or something, but nothing that will fuck with my head."
"Let's get those x-rays and see how bad it is before we decide." He again stepped back so Orson could stand.
He was struggling with his emotions, which was rare for him. He'd seen a million patients, many in worse shape than Orson, but not one of them inspired the worry or the need to protect like Orson did.
He was good at separating his feelings from his patients, but there was something about Orson's story that hit a little too close to home. He could easily see himself in Orson. His life was the way it was because he'd been scared and hidden his true identity, but things would have been drastically different if he'd been brave enough to take a stand and admit the truth the way Orson had. Even knowing his parents would kick him out, he'd chosen to be true to himself instead of hide. He wanted to know if he regretted that choice now, but he didn't dare ask.
"Anything else we need to x-ray while we're in here? Hips, legs, feet?" Jared asked while the x-ray tech set up things.
"No, I have bruises on my legs, but nothing serious, I promise." Orson glanced over at him, meeting his gaze.
Jared stared back, taking in his pale gray eyes. There was something attractive about Orson despite his smaller frame and insecure personality. He wasn't bad looking, with light brown hair, soft white skin, and several days' worth of beard growing. But even more than looks, Jared found his bravery most attractive. To face what he did each day and go through all he had and survive was what peaked his attention most. He might have nothing in his life, but he had more than Jared did, even with his good job and education. Orson was true to himself, and somehow that seemed to mean so much more than any materialistic thing that Jared had.
He stood outside the room as the x-rays were taken, wishing he hadn't taken this shift from Cameron. Orson had him thinking about the past, thinking about things he'd tried to forget and force to the back of his mind. Orson was a reminder of how he'd lied to himself and everyone else in his past. Hell, everyone in his present. He wasn't brave enough even now as an adult to come out and tell the world he liked men.
With a loud sigh, he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes, and thinking about how much stronger Orson was than he was. He was sure Orson had been beaten and probably raped, yet even then, he had a much more honest life than Jared had.
Forcing the thoughts to the back of his mind, he focused on his job. He needed to examine Orson. If he was raped, there could be other issues that he was hiding. That didn't even cover the mental issues he should see a counselor for, but he was pretty sure that Orson wasn't going to be willing to talk to anyone about what happened. The best he could hope for was to talk him into letting him examine him and make sure there weren't injuries that would cause issues later. It had been impossible to miss how uncomfortable Orson was just sitting flat on a chair.
He hated to even try to imagine what Orson had been through. The beating alone was bad. He saw people almost nightly who had been in fights or beat up, and Orson's injuries were some of the worst. He might play them off like they were nothing, but if left untreated, the gash on his chin would have become a life or death situation. His arm would have been another issue.
The door opened, and Orson stepped out. "Done."
"Good, head on back to the room. I'll look at what we have and meet you there." He gave Orson a supportive smile, hating the way the young man wrapped his arms around himself the best he could with the cast on and seemed to withdraw into himself.
Again, he wondered how much abuse he'd faced in his life.
One look at the x-ray told him there were no breaks, at least recent ones. A few spots left him wondering how many times Orson had been beaten, and how many painful days he'd spent with one broken bone or another.
As he entered the room, he found Orson in the chair with his head back against the wall, eyes closed, and for a brief moment, his defenses down, Jared watched him for a moment, wishing he could do something to comfort him, to make his life just a little easier. "Hey," he finally whispered. "Tired?"
"A bit. I haven't been sleeping well."
