Wren

Part 38

As the days passed, Wren's recovery seemed like it would be much rougher than they'd imagined.

The physical wounds began to heal, but the emotional scars ran deep. Wren would spend most of his time curled under the covers by himself, unresponsive and his eyes blank. He cried a lot; sometimes he would let Matteo comfort him, and others he would panic if anyone got near him. He seemed to come and go. . . sometimes he remembered everything and was okay, but the other part of the time he acted like he had when they'd found him. The slightest thing could set him off, and he would lash out if he felt threatened. He refused to eat, and kept vomiting the sludge from the feeding tube.

Matteo didn't know what to do. He knew he couldn't keep Sophie away much longer, but he didn't want her around Wren either. The wounds were ugly and he was so unstable; Matteo didn't want her to witness one of his fits. It had been eight days since they'd brought him home; five since the first time he'd woken. Matteo had never left his side, offering comfort, support, and endless patience, even when Wren wanted to be left alone Matteo was never far.

But today, as he sat by Wren's bedside, he noticed the way Wren's whole demeanor flipped when he switched on the overhead lights. 

They'd been starting a game, and Matteo had set up the board on the bed in front of Wren, but he couldn't see very well because it was dark and rainy outside so there wasn't enough light coming through the curtains. He flipped the switch, and in a similar way, Wren switched. 

As Matteo turned back to him, Wren was kneeling over on the bed, his arms wrapped around his head. He was trembling violently, and was whispering something Matteo couldn't make out.

"Wren?" He took a few cautious steps towards him, gently reaching out a hand. But the moment his fingers brushed Wren's back, he scrambled away, kicking the game board and falling over the side of the bed. 

Matteo went around and tried to see if he was okay, but Wren saw someone rushing at him and he panicked. 

"Puppy, it's okay. It's me--"

Wren kicked erratically, some of the blows landing square on Matteo's chest or stomach and knocking the breath out of him. He fell back, panting as he helplessly watched Wren spiral down into his panic mode. 

"Don't touch me!" Wren screamed, his eyes shut tight as he clawed his way backwards, until he was flush against the wall. He threw his arms around wildly, blocking as Matteo tried to bear hug him to keep him from hurting himself. He clawed at his own face, trying to remove the feeding tube. . . Matteo guessed that the way it was taped on reminded him of the muzzle. 

He was finally able to catch Wren's wrists, which made him sob and scream. He was terrified. Matteo felt like a monster as he fought to pin Wren down, and what he was saying didn't help.

"No! Don't hurt me! I'm sorry!" Tears poured out of Wren's closed eyes as he went limp, afraid he'd be beaten if he fought. "He hates me. I'm worthless. He hates me. I'm worthless. He hates me--" over and over he chanted, his hands over his ears and his eyes squeezed so tight it hurt. This was what they wanted, right? If he said this, they wouldn't hurt him--

"Wren! Stop saying that! Can you even hear me?" Matteo was panicking. This was what Wren had been whispering before. . . but it was total nonsense. What on earth was he saying?

There were no logical thoughts going through Wren's head; he was running purely on survival instinct. He didn't know where he was or who was pinning him to the floor, but he was scared. If he just kept saying what they wanted-- what was he supposed to be saying? Oh-- "He hates me. I'm worthless. He hates me. I'm worthless." His voice rose and got more strained as he still felt the weight bearing down on him. Was he not doing good enough? 

Matteo tried to turn Wren towards him, but he wouldn't move. He was kneeling and curled into a tight, impenetrable ball. His hands over his ears as he screamed the words. . . Matteo didn't know what they meant, but when he heard them a sinking feeling settled into the pit of his stomach.

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Leo had been walking back from the kitchen when he heard Wren screaming from inside the room. He rushed in to find him in a ball on the floor, Matteo bear-hugging him from behind. Wren was crying and chanting something weird, and Matteo was trying to soothe him but his words were being drowned out. 

"He hates me. I'm worthless. He hates me. I'm worthless. He hates me--" 

"What the hell is going on?" Leo demanded as he crouched beside them, trying to peer down at Wren through the arms that covered his head. 

"I don't know. . . He was fine, then I turned on the big light and he lost it. He won't stop saying that," Matteo almost had to shout to be heard over Wren's hysterical chanting.

"What is he even saying? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Leo stood and rushed to his desk, where he'd set up a tray with things they might need for Wren. He readied a syringe.

"I think they forced him to say that," Matteo's voice broke. "I think he's talking about me."

Leo froze, his eyes locking onto Matteo's as his face dropped. "Really?"

Matteo couldn't bring himself to answer. He focused on holding Wren as he struggled and whispering in his ear as Leo came back and tried to find a place to inject him. 

"Here," Matteo wrapped one arm over Wren's arms to pin them where they were, then used his free hand to pull up the leg of the pajama shorts he was wearing. Leo nodded and steadied the needle, then injected the sedative into his thigh.

It took about thirty seconds for it to start working. Wren's words slurred and he went limp, then fell asleep altogether. He slumped over on the carpet, and Matteo pulled back, panting. He hadn't realized how worried he'd been. 

They both stared at him for a few moments, their hearts breaking at the sight. Wren had scratched his face when he was clawing at the feeding tube, and little streams of blood trickled down his cheek. His face was puffy and red, wet with tears.

"It's like starting over at square one," Matteo whispered, his eyes wide and his heart pounding.

"But worse. When he gets like this. . . it's like he's not even in there." Leo's voice was shaky and hushed, like he was afraid to say such things too loud.

Matteo sighed and collected himself, standing and scooping Wren into his arms. He tucked him gently into the bed, then started picking up the board game pieces. "I swear he was fine. . . I mean, fragile, distant, like he has been since we brought him home, but fine. You know? But I was stupid and turned on the light--"

"It's not your fault. It'll take some time to be able to adapt to all of his. . . 'fears', but we can help him overcome them along the way. In time, he'll be okay. You'll see."

Even though Leo's voice was steady, Matteo could see the hint of doubt in his eyes. But he had to try and believe him; for Wren's sake. 

                              Part Thirty-Nine Coming Soon