Wren

Part 3

Five minutes later, Leo, the mafia's personal doctor, rushed through the doors of the meeting room, his medical bag in-hand. "What happened?" He demands as he kneels beside the guard that's pinning Wren to the floor. 

"He's terrified. Adrenaline washed out of him, and he started shaking." Vincenzo tried to hide the concern in his voice, but a little slipped through. He'd already developed a soft spot for the boy.

Leo nodded and shooed the guard from atop Wren's struggling form. "You're crushing him," he said as he pushed him off. Vincenzo dismissed most of his men from the room, only his consigliere staying behind. Leo inspected the damage.

Wren was obviously still injured from his rough kidnapping incident; gashes in his side from the glass, stomach covered in bruises from being kicked, scraped elbows from being shoved to the concrete. But now on top of that, in his seizing he'd scratched himself all over his face and neck. Leo gently grabbed his wrists and pulled them away from his face. 

"Wren, can you hear me? It's okay. No one's hurting you. Wren, try to take a deep breath." He continued to try to calm the boy, but it wasn't working. He sighed. "I'm going to have to sedate him. Seizing for a long time like this is really bad for him." He told Boss, who nodded.

He had the consigliere help hold Wren still as he injected him with the sedative. It took a minute, but Wren's violent shaking finally ebbed into soft trembling. The consigliere got off of him, leaving him in a pitiful ball on the floor. Vincenzo's heart went out to the boy. He couldn't imagine the pain of having such a horrible parent who would sell you away in a heartbeat to save their own skin.

"We need to get him somewhere better," Leo said as he scooped Wren up in his arms bridal-style. He paused. "He's too light. I don't think he's been eating. . ." Taking a moment to look closer now that the chaos was over, Leo realized how thin Wren was. He could see every rib through the faded shirt. 

Vincenzo sighed. "Well, there's nothing we can do about it right now, let's make sure we feed the boy when he's up to it. I imagine he'll be too scared for a while."

Leo nodded and carried Wren from the room, having been given instructions to take him to Matteo's quarters. Leo knew this was a terrible idea, but he couldn't disobey. 

Matteo was the Boss's son. He was 24, only one year older than Leo. They were close friends and had grown up in the mafia together, but Matteo had changed when his partner had left him. She'd stormed out of the mansion, never to be seen again. He'd grown cruel and distant in the year since that incident. Leo was worried that he'd hurt Wren. He knew he would hurt Wren.

A guard followed them all the way to Matteo's enormous living area, (a huge bedroom, living room, and large bathroom,) helping to get Wren settled. They were ordered that he be chained in the corner of the room, so that he couldn't escape. The chain was only two feet long, so he wouldn't even be able to reach the bathroom. After some discussion about where it would be most comfortable for Wren, they attached the restraint to his right ankle. 

They laid him gingerly on the carpet, and clicked the other end of the chain into a ring on the wall. Leo hated this. He was leaving an injured, restrained boy to the fate of cruel and spiteful Matteo. He hated himself for doing this.

The guard said goodbye and left the room, leaving Leo to tend to Wren's wounds. He cleaned and bandaged for about twenty minutes in peace, all while softly talking to the unconscious boy. Then the peace was rudely interrupted. 

Matteo slammed the door behind him as he trudged into the room. Catching sight of Leo crouched in the corner, he stomped over. 

"No, no, no. . . There's no way that little worm is staying in here. Get him out, immediately!" He shouted, coming to stand behind Leo. He glared down at the kid.