AWAKENING

by Jason Finigan

This story is set in an alternate reality, and assumes the technology and capabilities of this reality's 23rd century are present in modern-day society.

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This story may contain scenes which involve sexual situations between young males. If this type of material is offensive to you, or it is not legal for you to be reading this type of material, please do not read any further. This story is copyright © 2007-2008 by Jason Finigan, all rights reserved. Please do not copy this story for distribution or post on any online server without the author's permission. Please send all your comments to: jasonfinigan@yahoo.com.

Chapter 1

Two things the boy realized when he awoke. He was in a dark room, and that he was in extreme pain. His sight was blurred, and every movement he made only seemed to intensify the pain he felt by a hundred times. His legs felt as if they were on fire, he couldn't feel his right arm at all, and every breath he took sent a sharp stabbing pain coursing through his entire body. As painful as it was to move, he tried to look down at his own body, and what he saw almost made him wretch in horror. The pain was growing steadily the more lucid he became. It was unbearable, and threatened to sap what little strength he still had within him.

He could feel a wetness beneath him, and realized that he was lying in his own blood. His attempt to raise himself up off the floor only resulted in him being able to move a few inches before collapsing back to the floor, his chest hitting the ground hard, and sending even more pain to shoot across his body. The taste of blood filled his mouth and he knew without a doubt that he was dying. A part of him welcomed death; his only escape from the pain he felt. But something kept him from giving in. Death was too easy, too absolute. He wanted to live.

Gritting his teeth, and gathering up all his remaining strength, he pushed the pain from his mind, pulling himself across the floor towards a door he hoped would take him out of this prison. Inch by agonizing inch, he slowly made his way across the floor to the door which he saw was slightly open. A light was shining through the opening, a slight breeze forcing it's way into the room. Reaching out with his hand, he pushed as hard as he could against the door, straining to open it more.

The room was bathed in light, casting away the darkness and forcing him to turn his head away from the light. That's when he realized that his left eye was swollen shut, and it was only his right eye that he was seeing out of. Despite the pain that was now threatening to rob him of his consciousness, he pulled himself slowly out of the room, and into the light.

He found himself on a porch. It looked worn and old, as if it hadn't been used in many years. Weeds and grasses grew wild all about the stairs leading from the porch. Steeling himself, and bracing for the pain, he continued to crawl through the door onto the porch. Only sheer determination made him continue, for the pain was such that he didn't know how much longer he could go on.

The stairs sent more pain shooting through his body, as his arm and chest and legs were jarred by each step he crawled down. At the bottom he had to stop. His breathing was labored, hampered by the pain in his chest, and his legs felt as if they had been torn away from his body. He looked back from where he came, and saw the trail of blood his body had left behind in his wake.

His strength was leaving him, and he knew he didn't have much time left. To the left of him, he saw a road, and he struggled to pull himself towards it.

It seemed like hours to him before he made it to the side of the road. There were no cars. No people. Nothing. He was alone.

Exhausted, sweating, and bleeding, he lay there by the side of the road. Resigned to his fate. Welcoming it even. Anything to escape from the constant pain. How long he lay there he did not know, but before the blackness took him, he saw a looming shadow coming towards him and heard someone speaking. Someone had found him. The last thought he had was that at least he would not die alone.

* * *

Sounds. He could hear sounds. A constant, steady beeping noise that seemed to echo all around him. Opening his eyes, or rather, his right eye, he could see that he was in a brightly lit room. The walls and ceiling were stark white. Looking down at himself he could see that he was in a bed, covered with a white blanket. At the foot of the bed he could see a woman dressed in a light blue outfit, scribbling something on the clipboard she had in her hand.

It was then he began to feel the pain in his body. Not as severe as before, but it was still there he knew. He took a deep breath, and groaned from the pain it caused, making the woman notice for the first time that he was awake.

"Oh, you're awake," she said, smiling at him.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His throat hurt from the effort.

"What's that?" she asked, moving to the side of his bed and bending down closer to him.

"Wa...." he gasped, trying to force some sound to come out.

"Water?" she asked, to which he responded by nodding his head. She grabbed something from beside the bed, and he could hear a liquid being poured into a glass. He looked over and saw her holding up a glass filled with water.

He tried to reach out with his hand for the glass, but she stopped him. "Don't try to move John," the woman said. She reached over and raised his head off the pillow, moving the glass to his lips. He could feel the liquid filling his mouth, and he began to swallow greedily, almost choking on it.

"Easy, John," she said, moving the glass away, and resting his head back down onto the pillow. "Better?" she asked.

He nodded his head, and opened his mouth to speak again, finding that his throat still hurt, but wasn't as sore as before.

"Where am I?" he asked, his voice raspy and dry. He tried to clear his throat, but it only served to increase the pain in his chest, causing him to wince.

"Are you in pain? I'll get the doctor," she said.

"Where am I?" he asked.

"You're in the ICU ward at Joseph Brant Memorial Hospital."

"How?" he asked, struggling to sit up, but failing due to the pain that was growing worse by the minute.

"Please try not to move. I'm going to go get the doctor for you. She'll get you something for the pain." With that she left the room, leaving him alone again. He closed his eyes, opening them again when he heard someone entering the room.

"Well I see someone is awake at last," the woman who entered said.

"Who are you?" he asked her.

"I'm Doctor Melissa Graves, but you can just call me Melissa, okay?" she said, smiling at him.

"What happened? How long have I been here? Why can't I move?" he asked the doctor.

"I'll answer your questions in a minute, let me just give you something for the pain, and I'll try to answer as many as I can, okay?" He could only nod his head as she set about her work.

When she was finished, she grabbed a chair from against a wall in the room, and set it down beside his bed. Whatever she did, he was beginning to feel, the medicine beginning to make him very tired. He looked at her, a worried expression on his face.

"Don't worry, John," She told him gently, resting a hand on his. The pain medication makes you sleepy. It looks like you're going to be asleep very soon, so I'm going to let you get some rest and we'll talk when you wake up, okay?" she said. But to him her voice seemed to be growing more distant.

"Why does everyone keep calling me John?" he asked, struggling to stay awake, and losing the battle quickly.

"Because we didn't know your name. You had no identification of any kind. Can you tell us who you are?" she asked.

"I don't remember," he said before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Doctor Melissa Graves sat in her office on the fifth floor, the same floor on which rested her most recent patient, John Doe. She could not help but feel for this young boy. The injuries he sustained told her only one thing, that he was the victim of a vicious assault and by the looks of it, by more than one person. There is no way that just one person could have done all the damage that she had to repair. She sighed as she looked at the report she was preparing for the Halton Regional Police and the Halton CAS. The law mandated that she report this to the authorities. She held very little hope that John's memories would return. There was just too much damage. Whatever chance of a life he had before the attack, was taken from him forever.

Tears began to fill her eyes as she thought of the hardships this boy still faced. No one should have to suffer through so much pain and suffering, she thought. All she could do now was make the boy as comfortable as possible until his body had a chance to heal from the multiple surgeries he had to undergo.

Item after item she scanned, and each time her sadness for this boy grew deeper and deeper. His face was cut and bruised, he had a cracked cranium, a compound fracture of the femur in his left leg, a hairline fracture of the Tibia in his right leg, multiple fractures along his spinal column, and his right arm had been broken in two places. But those injuries alone would heal soon enough. It would be a long processes, and he would need physical therapy in order to walk again, but they would heal.

The rest of his body was just as battered. He had multiple stab wounds, one of which had nicked his aorta, the major blood vessel that carries blood from the heart. A fraction of an inch in either direction, and he would have bled to death, and there would have been nothing anyone could have done to save him. His spleen had to be removed due to the damage caused by the stabbing, as had one of his kidneys. Both of which he could live without, but it would make him more susceptible to an illness, and he would tire more easily.

Of all the injuries that he suffered, It was the damage done to his brain that caused her the most concern. His brain had begun to swell from what looked to her like multiple blows to the head. The bones in his skull cracked, and a piece had ended up being lodged in his brain, damaging a blood vessel. Trauma to the brain is almost impossible to repair, but the hospital's resident Neurosurgeon was able to repair the damaged blood vessel, and she hoped that because he was so young, his brain would be able to compensate for the damaged areas.

What sickened her the most though was the damage done to his genitals and his rectum. His testicles had been hit repeatedly, causing them to swell and bruise. Thankfully, neither one was damaged sufficiently enough to kill them, but the pain he would suffer as a result of those hits would last for a while yet. His rectum had been torn repeatedly from what she could only surmise was several adult penises. There were traces of ejaculate in his rectum, which she had collected for testing. She prayed that the DNA in the semen matched a known sex offender.

It was a long road to recovery, and she was determined to do all she could for the boy. But now she had one of the most unpleasant duties to perform. Calling the CAS. She hated that organization. More and more she saw the failures of the CAS from the children she had to treat at the hospital. Most of them beaten and abused by the foster parents the CAS deemed worthy of looking after them. And from those who lived in a group home, she saw a myriad of mental health issues, resulting in some of them getting into trouble with the law, where before they were just normal kids who needed love and attention. Two things that a group home was ill equipped to provide.

Picking up the phone, she dialed the number she knew by heart, but dreaded to call, waiting several seconds before it was picked up.

"This is Doctor Melissa Graves, chief of pediatric care at Joseph Brant Memorial Hospital. I would like to speak with Director Jacobs please," she said into the phone.

"One moment please. I will try to page her phone for you," a womans voice answered on the other end.

"Thank you," she said, and waited patiently while the annoying government approved elevator music played while she was put on hold. It seemed like ages before the line was picked up again, but it had only been a few seconds.

"Anna Jacobs speaking, how can I help you Doctor?" the director's voice asked.

"Director Jacobs, my name is Doctor Melissa Graves, and I have a young patient here who needs help.

"I see. Can you explain to me the circumstances of how this boy came to be in your hospital and all the information you have on him?"

"What I do have is very limited. We do not even have a name, and he is currently being listed as John Doe."

"Very well, tell me everything you can about this boy, and we'll see what can be done."

"Patient John Doe was brought into the hospital on October the 7th at approximately three forty-five pm. He was brought in by an older gentleman and his grandson whom we've interviewed. From what little they were able to tell us, they found him lying semi-conscious on the side of the road, at the end of a driveway of an old abandoned home in north Flamborough. He arrived with multiple injuries to his head, torso, genitals, arms and legs. He has been beaten repeatedly, raped, and stabbed, and for all intents and purposes left for dead where he was found."

"My God!" Anna exclaimed, after hearing all of this. "You said he has no ID of any kind, and I am presuming that no relatives have come to claim him as their son. How old is he?"

"Our best guess is that he is about thirteen to fourteen years of age, based on the state of his development," Melissa answered.

"So young!" Anna gasped.

"I know. I've been fighting back my emotions as I've gone over the report I have to send to the police."

"I don't doubt it," Anna said. "So, you have not contacted the police yet?"

"No. My first call has been to you. John Doe awoke an hour ago, and was lucid enough for us to talk to him, at which time we found he is also suffering from amnesia."

"Poor guy. It must be hell for him, especially with no one there for him. Do you have pictures of him?"

"Yes, we have taken pictures to document the injuries he sustained. They are included in the report I have here."

"Can you e-mail me the report, including the photos?" Anna asked.

"Yes I can. If you can give me your e-mail address, I'll send the report to you now," Melissa answered.

"Wonders of technology," Anna chuckled, trying to reduce the tension they shared. She gave Melissa her e-mail address and waited for the computer to announce the receipt of the medical report.

"Yes, isn't it though?" Melissa said, smiling despite the seriousness of their conversation. She found she liked this Director. It looked as though this one actually cared about the children she has sworn to protect. The last one was a bureaucrat, who's main concern was making sure paperwork was filed correctly.

"Alright, I have the report, and I'm opening it now," Anna said, after which there was a pause on her end. "My God!" Anna exclaimed after several seconds had passed. "I know this child!"

"What? You do?" Melissa said, sitting up in her chair suddenly.

"Yes, he's the brother of another one of the children I am looking after. A young boy by the name of Adam Thomas. The boy you have in your care right now is Tomas Andersen. He was reported as missing by his foster parents about two month ago."

"Missing? Where the hell has he been all this time?" Melissa asked.

"That's a very good question, and one to which I would like an answer. It looks like I'm going to be paying a visit to his foster family today," Anna replied.

"I should say so. I wouldn't be surprised if they know something about this," Melissa said.

"Any reason why you would suspect them of this abuse?" Anna asked.

"Only a hunch, that and when Tomas was in surgery, it was noted that he had several older injuries that were in the process of healing."

"I see. I have only talked with the family a few times, and they seemed to be a decent one, but maybe I need to take a closer look at them."

"It's refreshing to see the CAS taking the protection of children seriously for a change, Director Jacobs," Melissa said.

"Please, call me Anna," Anna said.

"Okay, and you can call me Melissa," Melissa replied.

"Melissa, I am well aware of the shortcomings of the CAS under the direction of Director Samuels. He's a good man, but I'm afraid he was more interested in the efficiencies of the department, rather than making sure children were safe. It was under his watch that several problems occurred. I have taken steps to ensure that will not happen under my watch, I can assure you."

"That's refreshing to know. Well, I need to adjust the records so that Tomas' name is properly on record. What is his full name? And do you have his personal information?"

"Yes I do. Just one second," Anna said. "Here it is. His full name is Tomas Eugene Andersen. I'll e-mail you the file we have on him, and you can enter the required information for your records."

"Thank you. If, as I suspect, his foster family is responsible for his injuries, I am hesitant to contact them to let them know of Tomas' condition."

"Don't worry about that. I will take care of it on my end. You just make sure the police have that report on his condition," Anna said.

"I'll do that. It was nice talking to you Anna," Melissa said.

"Nice talking to you too. You should see me in a couple hours as I want to check on Tomas for myself."

"Of course, I'll be waiting for you. Good bye."

"Bye for now," Anna said, followed by a click and Melissa hung up the phone.

She then made her last phone call to the Halton Regional Police, and after talking to a detective in the child abuse and sexual assault division, e-mailed a copy of the amended report then sat back in her chair. It had been a long day, and wasn't over yet. She had just begun to relax when she heard the hospital's intercom begin to page her.

"Doctor Graves to room 517 please, Doctor Graves to room 517."

With a start, she was out of her seat, and rushing out the door. That was the room that Tommy was in, and she knew that if she was being paged to his room, that something was wrong. When she got there, she was assaulted by the busy noise of nurses and orderlies struggling with someone on the bed, and a loud scream being emitted, filling the room and spilling out into the hallway.

"What's going on in here?" she demanded to know.

"Doctor, John Doe woke up screaming and thrashing around, we're trying to make sure he doesn't hurt himself, but it's like he's a wild animal."

"All of you, back away from him now!" she barked, startling everyone in the room. When no one did as she had demanded, she stepped over to the closest orderly, and pushed him out of the way, then looked at the rest. "I said, back away from him now!" Finally doing as she had told them, she made her way to Tommy, who was now whimpering and trying to fight off something invisible. She didn't dare touch him, lest he begin to fight her as he did the nurses and orderlies, but instead whispered softly into his ear that everything was going to be okay.

Eventually his cries and his struggles lessened, until eventually he was resting peacefully once more. She backed away from the bed, and looked over at the startled nurses and orderlies who obviously had no clue about what had just happened.

"Well don't just stand there! Get this mess cleaned up," Melissa ordered, giving each of them a glare. Have you never seen a child have a nightmare before?"

"I thought he was having some type of seizure, and when he started to fight me off when I tried to steady him, he was too strong so I called for help," a young nurse said.

"And it took all of you to try and calm down one frightened thirteen year old boy?" she asked incredulously. "Next time this happens, call me. Unless you can learn to tell the difference between a child having a seizure and a child having a nightmare... Just go. I will clean up this mess," Melissa said, looking around at the mess scattered all over the floor.

When they had begun to file out of the room, most of them talking amongst themselves, she set about cleaning up the mess. One nurse however remained.

"Let me help you with that," the nurse said, and picked up a bedpan.

"Your name is..." Melissa inquired.

"Daniel White. I just started here yesterday."

"Well thanks for the help, but just what was going through your minds at the time?"

"Honestly Doctor, I was just trying to do my best not to get hit. And failed miserably as you can see," he said, grinning at her. She looked up at him and saw the beginnings of a black eye forming.

"Looks like he got you good," she commented, smiling at him for the first time.

"Oh yeah. If this little one can do that with all the injuries he has, I'd hate to be the one getting in the way when he's fully recovered."

"I doubt he would be able to do as well. Otherwise he probably wouldn't have arrived here in the shape he was in," Melissa said.

"I guess. I have a little brother about his age. He's had some pretty bad nightmares before, but I've never seen one like that."

"Most likely he's reliving the trauma he suffered before coming here. His memory is there, it's just hidden from him, except in his subconscious. But that's just a guess. What do I know of psychology?"

"Looks like the little guy managed to dislodge his IV," Daniel said, standing up and looking at Tommy.

"Help me get him straightened out. I want to make sure he didn't pull any of his stitches or aggravate any of his injuries," Melissa said. Over the next half hour, the two of them checked Tommy over, and once satisfied that no further damage was evident, walked out of the room together.

"Daniel, I would like to assign you as Tommy's primary nurse while he's here. Do you think you are up for that?"

"Oh yes, Doctor. I would be happy to. I was going to keep checking up on him anyway, even if you hadn't suggested it."

"That's what I like to hear, Daniel. I think you'll do just fine here. Your first priority is to make sure that nothing disturbs him, and if another problem like this arises, get me immediately. Even if I'm at home."

"Yes Doctor," Daniel said.

"And please, call me Melissa. We're going to be working closely together with this patient, I'd like to keep this informal.

"Deal, but only if you call me Dan. I hate being called Daniel," he said, smiling at her.

"Dan it is then," Melissa said. "I'm going to get something from Tim Horton's. You want anything?

"Yes please. I'd like an orange juice," he said, reaching for his wallet in his back pocket.

"No, don't. I've got this," she said, stopping him.

"Thanks," he said.

"You just take care of that boy," Melissa said.

"I'll guard him with my life," Dan replied.

"Oh, and get an ice pack for that eye of yours. It's bruising real good," she said then made her way down the hallway to the elevator while Dan stepped back into Tommy's room..

* * *

Anna Jacobs was having difficulties with demons of her own. There in front of her on her computer screen were pictures of a young boy, injuries covering most of his young, almost angelic body. For the last three months this boy had been the focus of most of her attention. She had promised his brother that she would find him, and re-unite them. But looking at him now, she wished that she could have got to him sooner.

In mid July, she had had a meeting in the home of Ryan Hunter, the owner of Hunter Computer Consulting, and his family at their home. Ryan was a godsend, not only to her, but to three young boys who Ryan selflessly took into his home, and more importantly his heart. The first was a ten year old boy named Kyle, who Ryan had found while jogging along the beach at Spencer Smith Park. Kyle was a runaway, having left the group home he had been living in since after the death of his mother in a fire last Christmas. He had been the victim of a brutal assault by several of the older residents in the home and left so he wouldn't get hurt any more. If it weren't for Ryan finding little Kyle, she had no doubt that he wouldn't be alive today. Shortly after, Ryan took Kyle to see his old friends at the group home, and in the end, Ryan ended up taking home with him two other boys from the home; Kyle's best friend, ten year old Greg White, and Greg's room mate, an eight year old named Adam Thomas.

It was during that meeting that Ryan expressed an interest in finding Adam's brother Tommy, which was the name Tomas preferred to go by. Since she had Tommy's file, she knew that he was being fostered not too far from where Ryan lived. Due to privacy restrictions, she was unable to tell Ryan where Tommy was, but had managed to set up a meeting between him and Tommy's foster parents at Ryan's home, which went very well. She didn't think there was any problems getting Tommy and Adam back together, as Adam's father was petitioning the courts to regain his parental rights over Adam, but not Tommy. Now she wished she had looked into his father's petition more closely.

Both Adam and Tommy, as well as Ryan and his family, and Tommy's father, Rich Thomas attended a custody hearing in late August. During which time the court sided with Tommy's father, despite the evidence of abuse both boys had suffered at his hands, and ordered that both Adam and Tommy be released into his custody. Ryan's attorney immediately filed an appeal with the Ontario Court of Appeals, which effectively stayed the judge's decision allowing Adam to remain with Ryan for the time being, and Tommy to remain with his foster family. Until the Court of Appeals heard the case however, neither boy was allowed to live with the other, though they were able to see each other under the supervision of the CAS.

Anna kept in touch with both families to check how the boys were doing. Both were worried that they would have to be returned to their father's care, something which everyone agreed was not in the boys' best interests. She began to do a background check on Tommy's father, to try and find something they could use in the appeal to prove to the court that he was an unfit parent. It was during that investigation that she discovered something shocking, something that she didn't expect to find. Tommy's father, the man who assaulted Tommy and his brother, was a member of a religious group called the Fundamentalist Church of Christ.

She had heard enough of this radical organization to know that they were bad news. Reports from her contacts in the United States had suggested a group capable of almost anything that suited their fanatical religious beliefs, chief among which was their utter hatred for homosexuals. There was no way she could allow any child to be raised by a man who held such beliefs, and yet, she didn't know of any way to convince the courts of the threat that this group represents, as no record had been made of this organization doing anything in Canada. That made it extremely difficult to prove that the children's lives would be in danger. She could only hope that the prior abuse sustained by both Adam and Tommy at the hands of their father was enough to convince the appeals court that he was an unfit father. But even Ryan's own lawyer suggested that their case was very week in that area.

Now she had three phone calls to make. One to Ryan's family, which she did not look forward to, a second to the foster family that Tommy had stayed with, and who still legally had custody, and the third was to a friend of hers in the United States. It was that third call that she hoped would help her find a solution and allow Ryan to adopt both Adam and Tommy.

Sitting up at her desk, she reached over to the phone and picked up the receiver, punching in the numbers for her first phone call, and waited.

* * *

"Here you go Dan," Melissa said, handing Dan the bottle of Orange Juice.

"Thanks," he replied, putting down an ice pack that he had been holding up to his face, and reached out to accept the bottle. "You'd think that they would make them bigger than this for the money it costs," he said wryly.

"I'm in total agreement with you there," Melissa chuckled. "How's he been?"

"Restful, thankfully," he replied. "He's moved a couple times, but it looks like the nightmare he had earlier hasn't returned yet."

"I don't know whether that is necessarily a good thing," she said.

"You mean you want him to have nightmares?" he asked, confused.

"No, of course not. But this little guy here is suffering from amnesia, and the nightmare he had is obviously a result of the trauma he suffered. The nightmare is most likely him reliving the assault. I don't like it, but it might be a sign that his memories are intact and will surface eventually. He's going to need a lot of counseling to help him get over what happened to him."

"It still shocks me that anyone can do this to a child," Dan said, shaking his head.

"I agree with you. There are a lot of sick people in the world. If I had my way, I'd do anything I could to make sure that no child should ever have to suffer any type of abuse by anyone ever again."

"Unfortunately reality steps in all too often," Dan commented.

"Unfortunately," Melissa replied. Just then, Tommy began to stir, drawing both their attentions back to him.

"Another nightmare?" Dan asked, getting up from the chair he was sitting in.

"No, it looks like he's about to wake up," Melissa said, and walked over to the side of Tommy's bed. Tommy's eyes slowly opened, having difficulties focusing his eyes as the last remnants of sleep lingered on. Finally he was awake enough to notice her standing over him.

"Doctor?" he asked uncertainly, his voice hoarse as though he hadn't used it in a long time.

"That's right. I'm Doctor Melissa Graves, but you can call me Melissa," she said, smiling at him.

"Who's that?" Tommy asked, looking over at Dan, who was standing behind Melissa, fear evident in his eyes.

"Don't worry, Tommy. That's Dan, he's your nurse while you're here," she explained to him.

"Hey there buddy. Don't be afraid. No one's going to hurt you in here, and if they try to, they're going to have to get past the Danster," Dan said, striking his best muscle man poses for Tommy. That simple act brought a smile to Tommy's face, and he giggled.

"You're silly," Tommy said.

"I agree with you," Melissa said, looking at Dan who had stopped striking poses. "Between you and me, I'm beginning to wonder if he's actually a patient instead of a nurse."

"Hey come on Doc, it made the little guy smile didn't it?" Dan protested half-heartedly.

"That it did Dan," Melissa agreed, chuckling to herself.

"Seriously, Tommy, no one's going to hurt you here. We're going to make sure you heal up so you can get out of this place."

"Why are you guys calling me Tommy now? You called me John before," Tommy asked Melissa.

"John Doe is the name we give people who come in here without any identification to tell us who they are. Someone saw the pictures of you we took when you came in and recognized you immediately, so we now know your real name," Melissa explained.

"I'm sorry. I still can't remember, but if you say my name's Tommy then I guess it is," Tommy said.

"Don't worry, Tommy. Your memories will come back to you eventually. You've had a pretty nasty bump on your head, and that's why you can't remember anything."

"What happened to me? How did I end up in here?" Tommy asked.

"I won't go into detail about your injuries, because I don't want you to get worried. Let's just say that someone hurt you real bad, and we had to fix up quite a few things. All we want from you right now is for you to get better. Dan and I are here to make sure that if you need anything, we'll get it for you."

"Um, well there is something," Tommy said hesitatingly, looking back and forth between Dan and Melissa.

"Anything little guy," Dan said.

"Um, well, I need to go pee," he said.

"That's not a problem. Unfortunately because of your injuries, you can't leave the bed, that's why we have the bed pan here," Dan said, reaching behind him to pick it up.

"Tommy, that means that one of us has to help you," Melissa said.

"Oh," Tommy said, appearing to be lost in thought. "Um, well, could you help me Dan?" he asked, looking hopefully at Dan.

"Of course I can, Tommy. I've done this lots of times, so don't you worry about that," Dan said.

"Thanks. Sorry Melissa, you're taking good care of me I know, but I don't want a girl to see my privates," Tommy said, his face flushing red from embarrassment.

"I understand completely, Tommy. I'll just wait outside until you call me back in, okay?" she asked.

"Thanks," Tommy said, giving her a slight smile. With that, Melissa left the room, and waited outside the room for a couple minutes, until she heard Tommy's voice call her back in.

"Feel better now, Tommy?" she asked.

"Yeah I do, but my legs and arm are starting to hurt, and my stomach feels funny." he said.

"They're going to do that for a while, Buddy. It takes a while for the bones to heal. In what way does your stomach feel funny? Does it hurt?" Dan asked.

"No, not really. It's like I want to be sick."

"I bet I know what that is," Melissa said, smiling once more.

"What?" Tommy asked.

"You're probably hungry. From what I can tell, you haven't had anything to eat in the last couple days. You've basically been taking your food through the needle that's in your arm right now."

"Two days?" Tommy exclaimed in astonishment.

"Yep. Dan, I need you to get Tommy some lunch. Nothing that his stomach would have problems with; some soup perhaps, and some bread."

"Right away, Melissa," Dan said, and left the room.

"Why does he have a black eye? Did someone beat him up?" Tommy asked.

Melissa laughed. "Not quite. Did anyone ever tell you that you're dangerous when you have a bad dream?"

"I did that?" Tommy asked.

"You certainly did. You were having a really nasty dream and Dan and some of the other nurses had to come in here and try to calm you down."

"Oh wow, I didn't mean to," Tommy said, beginning to look afraid.

"I know you didn't, Hun, and he doesn't blame you either. It was just a bad dream. Do you remember what it was about?"

"Yeah," Tommy said. "I was being chased in this home, I don't know where it is, but it's real dark inside. I can hear these voices laughing an calling out my name. Now that I think about it, they were calling me 'Tommy', just like you are now!" he exclaimed.

"Sounds to me like your dream wasn't just a dream, but part of your memories, trying to come back," Melissa said.

"Yeah, I guess. But it was so scary."

"I don't doubt it, Tommy. Is there anything else you can remember about your dream?"

"Yeah, the people who were chasing me caught me, and they hurt me real bad. I could feel them touching me, and doing things to me, and I tried to fight back, but I couldn't. They were too strong for me."

"Did you get a look at their faces?" Melissa asked.

"No, they were all blurry. All I could see was them hitting me over and over again," Tommy said, no longer able to contain his emotions as he burst into tears, sobbing into his pillow."

"Shh, it's okay Tommy. It was just a dream, and we're going to make sure nothing happens to you."

"But if you said it's my memories coming back, what if the bad people find out about me, an' come back to hurt me again, or worse?"

"Then we just won't let them, will we?" Melissa said seriously.

"No, we won't," Dan said, walking back into the room with a tray full of food in his hands. Melissa could tell that Tommy was definitely hungery by the look in his eyes as Dan brought over the food. You could almost see him beginning to drool. She tried her best to stop herself from laughing out loud at the sight, and for the most part, she was able to. She couldn't help but smile though, as Tommy began to dig in.

"Hey, slow down there, Champ," Dan said. "Take it slow and easy. We don't need your stomach to get upset." After Dan had said that, Tommy began to eat slower, but it was still funny to watch him eat as if it was the first food he'd had his entire life.

In a very short amount of time, Tommy had eaten the last of the soup that Dan had given him and was now working on the last piece of bread. Melissa could tell right away that Tommy was feeling a bit better, just by the way he was eating.

"Well champ, looks like you enjoyed your lunch," Dan said, taking the tray with the empty bowl on it away and putting it on the table beside the bed.

"Uh huh," Tommy mumbled. "Can I have some more?" he asked.

"Not right now, Tommy," Melissa said. You haven't eaten in a couple days and you don't want your to upset your stomach."

"No, I don't like being sick," Tommy said, taking the last of the bread into his mouth.

"Who does?" Dan laughed lightly.

"You've got a point. How are you feeling, Tommy?" Melissa asked.

"Well, my stomach is fine, but my arm and my legs are still hurting," Tommy admitted.

"That's to be expected," Melissa said. "How about I get Dan here to go get your pain medication, and you can get some rest?"

"Okay," Tommy agreed.

* * *

"Ryan? It's Anna Jacobs calling," Anna said into the phone.

"Anna! It's nice to hear from you. I haven't seen you much since you and Darren started dating. So what has you calling me today?" She heard Ryan ask.

"Thanks Ryan. I know I should call more often, but you know how it is. I wish I was calling you just to chat, but there is something I need to discuss with you. It has to do with Tommy."

"Tommy? Has he been found?" Ryan exclaimed.

"Yes. He has been found, but I wish we had found him earlier," Anna sighed.

"Why, what happened? Ryan asked.

"Ryan, Tommy has been viciously attacked an is right now in Joseph Brant Memorial Hospital with an extensive list of injuries. According to the doctor who is looking after him, he is lucky to be alive."

"Oh my God! How the hell did it happen? Who?" Ryan asked, his anger easily decernable from the tone of his voice.

"We wish we knew, Ryan. Tommy was brought in and when he woke up in the ICU after undergoing multiple surgeries, we learned that he is suffering from amnesia."

"What am I going to tell Adam?" Ryan asked, suddenly becoming concerned.

"I don't think you should tell Adam anything right now, at least not until we've been able to find out just what happened to Tommy."

"Damn, when he finds out, he's going to demand to see Tommy. You know he is."

"I know, and right now the courts aren't allowing you to see him. I'm only telling you this because I feel that you have a right to know. I'm treading a fine line here with regards to this case as it is."

"Have you talked to the foster family yet?" Ryan asked.

"No. I have called them but they were not at home, and left a message on their answering machine. Ryan, I have to be honest with you, until we learn what happened, the CAS cannot allow Tommy any visitors. There's a question as to whether or not the foster family was responsible for his injuries."

"You think they did this to him?" Ryan asked.

"It's possible, but we can't afford to jump to conclusions. We don't know enough yet to even take a guess."

"I understand. Just do me one favor," Ryan said.

"What is it?"

"Keep me informed as to what is going on."

"I will do that, Ryan. There is a little bit of news though that might help our case."

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"Are you aware of a religious group called the Fundamentalist Church of Christ?"

"No, I'm afraid I'm not," Ryan admitted.

"I'm not surprised you're not. Not many people in Canada know of them, but the organization is very well known in the United States, and is quickly gaining members in Canada."

"From the tone of your voice, it sounds as though this group is bad news," Ryan said.

"You could say that. I'm going to e-mail you the news articles I've saved regarding this group. I've been following up on this group's activities as part of my research into cases regarding child abandonment, abuse, and adoption. To sum it up, I can tell you right off the bat that this group is extremely homophobic, among other things. Read the articles and you'll get a better understanding of this group."

"Alright, I will do that, but what has it got to do with Tommy?" Ryan asked.

"Tommy's father is a member of this organization," Anna replied.

"Okay, I just received your e-mail. Give me a few minutes to let me go over some of this," Ryan said.

"Of course," Anna said, and waited patiently while Ryan went over the news articles she had sent him. Most of them were recent, and detailed events which on numerous occasions caused her to cry. The things those children had to suffer, and the actions of this group made her want to go down there and save every child that the FCC had ever come into contact with. Once she finished this conversation with Ryan, she knew she had to get in contact with her friend in the United States. She only hoped that there was something that her friend could do to help her. With the courts siding with Tommy's father for custody, she was out of options.

"Damn!" Ryan's voice exclaimed from the phone, interrupting her thoughts.

"I take it you've read them," Anna said.

"Some of them, and I wish I hadn't. Is this group for real?" Ryan asked.

"Unfortunately, yes. Groups like the FCC are gaining momentum in the United States. I've seen it over and over again in religious zealots; trying to claim moral superiority over everyone else, and doing whatever they want and justifying it by using the bible. If this group, or others like it, continue to promote this type of hatred, I'm afraid a lot of people are going to get hurt."

"I agree with you there. Is there nothing we can do though?"

"Right now, I'm afraid not. The Canadian Charter of Rights guarantees that groups like the FCC are allowed to exist. Only the government can step in and do something about it, but they're not likely to as the FCC hasn't done anything in Canada to warrant such scrutiny."

"I get the feeling that you have a plan though," Ryan said.

"I do, but it's a long shot, and I have no idea whether it will make much of a difference anyways."

"Anna, I trust you. Do whatever it is you feel you have to, to protect these boys, especially Tommy. I'm not going to let this man hurt any of these boys. They've gone through too much already, especially Kyle and now Tommy."

"How is Kyle doing?" Anna asked.

"He's getting better. His arm is still sore, but he's not letting that slow him down."

"Well tell him I said hi, and that goes for the rest of your boys there. Don't worry, Ryan. One way or another we're going to make sure your family stays together."

"Thank you, Anna. That means a lot to me and the boys. I'll be sure to tell them you said hi."

"And remember not to tell Adam about Tommy yet," Anna reminded him.

"Oh I won't. Not until you think it's okay to."

"Okay then. I have one more phone call to make. Hopefully I can get the answers I need."

"I'm sure you will, Anna. Call me back as soon as you get any new information."

"I will do that. Bye for now," Anna said.

"Bye." Then the phone went dead, and she hung it up, leaning back in her chair to gather her thoughts. She wasn't lying to Ryan when she said this was her last hope. She didn't know of any other thing to do to allow Ryan to keep Adam and take in Tommy. For both those boys' sakes, she knew that she had to do something.

She was just about to reach for the phone to call her friend when it began to ring. She picked up the receiver, immediately recognizing the caller on the Call ID display.

"Hello, Melissa," Anna said after picking up the receiver.

"Hi, Anna," Melissa said.

"You sound more cheerful. I take it Tommy woke up then?"

"Yes he did, and I was able to talk to him about the nightmare he had. It seems that his memories are trying to come back to him, but things are still very fuzzy and he still doesn't know what happened, or how, or who did it to him."

"Poor little guy. I just spent the last hour trying to get a hold of his foster parents, and I talked to the family that wants to adopt him."

"You said trying?"

"Yes. All I've been able to get is their answering machine. Hopefully they'll call me back soon," Anna said.

"Yes, I hope so too. Well, you're going to love this. Tommy has begun to eat. His stomach was definitely wanting to be filled."

"I can imagine. You've had him there for what, two days now?"

"About that, yes. Most of it in surgery and then in recovery before he was moved to the ICU," Melissa said.

"Oh yeah, he would definitely be hungry. Listen, I should be there in about an hour or so. I just have one more phone call to make and then I'll be on my way to see Tommy."

"Sounds good to me. Just ask the nurse on duty to direct you to my office. That's where I'll be," Melissa said.

"I'll do that."

"Bye for now then," Melissa said.

"Bye," Anna said before the phone went dead. She hung up the phone, and then picked it back up again. Looking through her address book, she found the number she was looking for and dialed it. On the fourth ring, the phone was answered by what to her sounded like a young boy's voice.

"Hello?"

"Hello, this is Anna Jacobs, can I speak with Teri Short please?"

Editor's Notes:

Gee, I wonder... Could that be the Teri Short that I know so well? I must admit that when I was first shown the beginning of this story, I thought that someone should call Teri Short. Of course, I didn't know that the boy that was hurt so badly was Tommy. I had only received the first part of the chapter, the part that came before Melisa Called Anna. Now, of course, I know who he is, and It makes it all even more important to keep him safe. In case it hasn't been obvious, this story has now become connected with a wonderful group of people that are ready, willing and able to help all children that find themselves in bad situations. I won't tell you any more about them here, since I don't want to ruin any suspense that Jason has built up, but you can be sure that all hell is going to break loose when Teri hears what has happened, and she and her family will do everything they can to help take care of Tommy, and for that matter, any other child that finds themselves in danger. I can see from this chapter, that this story and a couple of other stories that Jason has written are going to be really interesting. Keep reading and don't miss a single chapter. I know I will be here.

Darryl AKA The Radio Rancher

Clan Short Archivist Review Notes:

Thank you Jason for another wonderful story in your "Saving and Angel" Saga you have done it again. If The Radio Rancher's hinting didn't give the gig away I guess my being here will so I will just go ahead and say it: Welcome to The Clan Short Universe Jason. This story looks like it will fit right in with the other awesome CSU Stories. I highly recommend reading Jason's other stories in the "Saving an Angel" Saga, "Saving an Angel", "A Chance Encounter" and "Forever My Love". These stories will give more of an insight into Ryan, Kyle, Anna Jacobs, Tommy and the rest of the gang. To learn more about the nefarious FCC don't forget to read Dark Star's "Out of the Past". I fervently wish that groups like the FCC really didn't exist but it seems they may. I along with The Radio Rancher am eagerly awaiting the next chapter. Keep up the great work Jason.

The Story Lover AKA Fort Chief Editor