east of eden 𑁋 salvis.

XIII

♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ

He comes to in the nurse's office-or what he thinks is the nurse's office-head aching and his only thoughts being that the lights are too bright and how hungry he is.

Travis slowly opens his eyes, squinting at the light. He's about to yell at someone for bringing him to the nurse's office, until he hears beeping. He looks down at his arms, and there it is. Needles stabbed in his arms, in his hand. A heart monitor attached to him, a shit ton of other wires and tubes attached in various places.

A nurse is fussing over him basically as soon as he's awake, as he tries to sit up. She shakes her head, eyes wide as she pushes Travis gently to lie back down. He scowls but complies, only so he doesn't get yelled at. This nurse seems stressed, her blonde ponytail falling out and makeup slightly smudged, seems she's had a hard day. Maybe even a hard week. He almost feels sorry for her.

The nurse hands Travis a remote, showing him how all the buttons work. He nods as she explains, messing around with the buttons until the bed's set how he wants it, and then she starts on with her nurse-y montage. He misses most of it, except her name. Dawn. Pretty name, he thinks, and he doesn't realize he'd actually said it until she smiles brightly and thanks him.

Dawn checks the monitors attached to Travis, writing down some stuff on a clipboard she has with her. And then starts the scary stuff; questions.

"So Travis, what's the last thing you remember before passing out?" Dawn's holding her clipboard in one hand, pen in the other. She's taking notes of this stuff. Travis sighs, shrugging. He's gotta be quick, he can't tell her what happened.

"I just remember feeling really lightheaded and sick to my stomach, so I leaned against a wall because I thought if I rested for a second it would help." She nods, writes something down. Travis sits anxiously, fiddling with his fingers even if it hurts the burns on his hand to do that.

"Do you remember your name? Your age? Where do you go to school? Do you know today's date? Your parent's names?" God, that's a lot of questions. But Travis knows answering them is probably mandatory, based off how Dawn's looking at him. She's got this motherly look, almost like she cares for him like a son, but at the same time, her eyes are stern. She wants answers.

"My name's Travis Phelps, I'm seventeen. I go to Nockfell High School, today is November 13, 1991. My parents are Kenneth Phelps and Deborah Phelps." Dawn smiles a bit to herself as Travis answers, which makes Travis smile as well. He must be doing well. Dawn quickly logs down his answers, sighing before her next question. She hesitates for a moment before asking it, which just makes Travis anxious all over again.

"Don't freak out when I say this.. But when you were admitted we had to do run some tests and just do a general checkup to figure out what was wrong.. Do you remember getting sexually assaulted?" Travis' eyes widened. How the fuck did they figure it out? God, what was he supposed to do now. No matter what he said it'd point back to him having gay sex. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Dawn seems to sense him panicking, smiling reassuringly at him. She guides him through breathing exercises for a moment to get Travis a bit calmer before she speaks again.

"We're on your side, Travis. If you're gay, I don't care. Hell, this is the 90's. I've got a girlfriend at home, lots of people are a lot more accepting of queer people now. I don't care which way you swing, but if you were sexually abused you have to tell me. So we can get police involved." Though Dawn tried to act confident about her words, it was clear even she knew the police would shake away the case if Travis reported it. Men can't get sexually assaulted.