Can't Save Them All

Night One

Getting out of the car was simpler than expected. By the time Phil had opened the door to the backseat, the kid was awake and already unbuckled. Not a word was spoken as they walked towards the door. Phil held the door open for the kid to enter before him. He noted how the boy hesitated before tensely passing him. Immediately he tucked himself against a wall just inside the house. Locking the door and shutting the garage, Phil gestured for the kid to follow him as he made his way to the kitchen. He turned on the light and tossed the folder and keys on the counter before going to take off his coat.

The boy stepped forward, hands out as though he was expected to grab it. "I got it mate, don't worry," Phil spoke as he draped the coat over one of the island chairs. He kept an eye on the kid's face. Confusion lit up in the boy's eyes but the rest of his face stayed perfectly blank. He stepped back into his corner and lowered his head. Waiting.

Still watching out of the corner of his eyes, Phil shakes out wings. The kid's eyes go wide before he ducks his head and hides behind the curls. What Phil would do to know what the kid was thinking. His mop of hair seems to be his safety blanket. Phil made a mental note to not mention the length. If it allows him a bit of comfort, so be it. Phil pulls the folder across the counter and flips to the first page. He scans quickly before finding what he's looking for.

"Come here, Wilbur". The kid - Wilbur - startles before moving towards him. Slightly shaking. Even though he was slouched and cowering , Phil noticed that Wilbur had some inches on him. He wondered how tall the boy would be if he stood up straight. If he didn't have years of conditioning telling him that it hurt to be perceived.

"I'm gonna take these off now mate, ok?" Phil gestured to the shackles and waited patiently for a response. It took a couple of seconds before the kid realized the question was not rhetorical and carefully gave a small, single nod. Even though Phil tried to move as slowly and gently as possible, the kid still flinched at the initial contact. Phil shoved the anger that threatened to burst from him down. He did not need to scare the kid, he could be angry later. When he didn't have a traumatized kid in front of him who looked like he wanted to disappear every time he was noticed.

Soon enough, the shackles laid on the counter next to the open folder. Phil noted that the wrists were rubbed red, but they weren't raw. The worst was just a bit of bruising. Honestly, Wilbur's eye looked worse. He wondered if the kid would let him look at it. Probably not tonight, it'll be too much. Phil took a step back before turning towards the fridge. The idea was to give the boy a moment to collect himself before moving onto the next step. Phil rummaged around for a bit before he pulled a water bottle out of the fridge and turned around to see Wilbur rubbing his wrists. As soon as he turned, the kid clasped his hands in front of him, ceasing all fidgeting and self soothing motions. Perfect form. Well trained. Fuck this system.

Phil set the water bottle on the counter before pulling out another key, bracing himself for the upcoming reaction. "Alright mate. I'd like to take the muzzle off so you can breathe a bit better." He watched Wilbur's face carefully. It remained blank. Phil hoped it was a neutral reaction and that the kid was not mentally somewhere else. "Just turn your head to the side for me." Wilbur obeyed instantly, freezing as Phil's hands neared his face. Phil pulled off the small padlock as quick as he could before unbuckling the strap and slowly removing it. Wilbur didn't move a muscle. Phil placed the muzzle on the counter next to the shackles, wishing he could burn them.

He turned to the paperwork again, watching the boy out of the corner of his eye. Giving the kid a moment, he looks to see if there's any important medical things that he needs to be aware of before they could sleep. Wilbur was taking deep breaths. He decided to let the kid calm down for a minute before moving on. Phil wandered over to the pantry and dug around before grabbing a small package of crackers. He turned back to Wilbur, noting that the kid was breathing at a more natural pace.

"Let me give you a quick tour, then I'll let you get some sleep. It's been a long day." Phil pauses before adding the next bit, knowing it's an important one "If you have any questions, you may speak and ask them". He was always told that if you don't tell the rescues that they can speak, they never will. He grabbed the water bottle off the counter before leading the way through the rest of the house. Throughout the tour, Phil makes sure to give the kid space and to never block the exit. No need to make the boy feel more trapped than he already is.

Phil ends the tour in Wilbur's new room. He sets the water bottle and crackers on the bedside table before showing him all the clothes he can wear and the soaps he can use. Phil made sure to be direct and specific. No room for misinterpretation. Every time he mentions a basic, common thing, Wilbur's eyes go slightly wider in shock before morphing into disbelief. This even happened when he told the kid he could use shampoo. Shampoo! The more he speaks with the kid, the more he hates the institution that created this boy in front of him. The one that expects hits for no reason and doesn't expect to be able to wash the dirt out of his hair.

As with most of the tour, Wilbur's face stayed carefully blank as Phil finished showing him his room. His eyes were the only reaction, and even then they were hard to see under his mop. He never spoke, only shaking his head when Phil asked if he had any questions. He seemed to be holding his breath for something, waiting for some ball to drop. Phil wished that he could read Wilbur's mind to know what he was expecting. Phil knew it would keep him up at night, but that was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

"Alright mate, that's pretty much it. I'm going to leave you now to take a shower and get some sleep. Now this is important," Phil paused to make sure Wilbur was paying attention. The kid seemed to stop breathing anytime he was directly addressed. "The water bottle and crackers are for you. You can drink out of it. You can eat as many or as few crackers as you want. If you need more, let me know and I will get you another one. You are allowed to use hot water. There is no limit. Use as much as you'd like. You may sleep in the bed. Under the covers. Use as many or as few blankets as you wish. Do you understand?" He watched emotion after emotion flash across the kids face as he talked. He knew a lot of this would come to a surprise for the boy. And he would probably expect these things to be taken away. But Phil was always told it's important to tell the rescues these things night one, or else they won't use them. For some reason, it was expected for them to take cold showers, drink out of a faucet, starve even with food in front of them, and sleep on a floor.

Wilbur's face ended on confusion before he quickly schooled his face into a neutral expression. He nodded once before ducking his head down once more. Those curls do a great job at hiding his face. Phil just gave him a soft smile before bidding him goodnight and closing the door to Wil's room. He made sure to prevent it from slamming. No need to give a false indication that he was upset or angry. At least upset and angry at the kid. He wandered back to the kitchen before picking up the file and making a cup of tea. He cringed at the thickness of the file. He apparently had a lot to read, a lot of things to think about. This was going to be a long night.