Pure Innocence (11 page)

Damon just got to Oliver as
his eyes rolled up and his legs gave way.
You stupid fool.
Calling himself
every name he could think of, he strode into the bedroom with an
unresponsive Oliver cradled gently in his arms. Joe followed and
shut the door firmly behind them. “Panic attack. Seen `em before.
We should have known. Stupid, I’m sorry.”

Damon gently rolled Oliver on his side.
“Should I call the doctor?”

Joe came over to the bed. “He’s breathing
normally now. You got Doc Jameson coming to see him?”

Damon nodded. “He was back in the States
yesterday. He said I could take Oliver there.” Damon brushed a hair
off Oliver’s pale face.

“
Look, I’m no doctor,” Joe
began, “but I bet Derek would come here. Is this the first time
this has happened?”

“
Nurse came yesterday, but
Oliver didn’t panic,” Damon said, keeping a hand on Oliver’s arm.
He wanted him to know he was here when he came round.

Oliver moaned quietly, and Joe dropped his
voice. “It’s likely he remembers Adam, or both of us, that may have
triggered something. I’m sorry, should have thought.” Joe headed
for the door. “I’m gonna get the rabble out of here.” Joe fixed him
with a look. “Call me later.”

Damon nodded his thanks and tried not to
feel a little overwhelmed. He was stroking Oliver’s face soothingly
as his boy’s brown eyes blinked at him. Damon saw realization and
memory filter in as Oliver’s eyes widened and focused. Oliver’s
breath caught.

“
Hey. It’s okay. I think it
was probably a little too much, too soon.”

Oliver opened his mouth, and shut it
immediately. Damon saw a panicked swallow move down that slim
throat, and Oliver shuffled restlessly. Damon didn’t hesitate. He
stripped Oliver’s shirt off and his own and pulled Oliver into him.
Skin on skin had worked best in the hospital. He quickly laid down
and arranged it so Oliver’s head was resting on his chest.

And breathed.

He breathed until Oliver’s gasps had quieted
and his chest was moving in time with Damon’s. Slowly. Steady. They
had all the time in the world.

“
I—I’m sorry.”

Damon wanted to hit something hard when the
tremulous words slipped out apologetically. He felt all the good,
all the talking they had done yesterday, had just backfired. It was
his fault. He’d pushed too much too soon. Well, he wouldn’t make
that mistake again.

“
Not your fault, boy.”
Damon brushed his lips on the fine hair of Oliver’s head. He
suddenly wished Joe had stayed. It would have been nice to have
some advice, a sounding board, like what he’d gotten from Harrold.
His stepfather had been dead these four years.

“
But they’re your
friends.”

Damon smiled widely against Oliver’s scalp.
He wanted the boy to feel the movement of his lips, to know he
wasn’t angry. “They’ll be your friends eventually too. This is
okay.” He lifted his head at the same time as he gently drew
Oliver’s chin upwards so he was looking at him. “You have
permission to be scared. This is normal.” Damon cupped the boy’s
cheek and ran an encouraging thumb across his soft lips. “I’m glad
this happened really.” Damon deliberately infused his words with
confidence.

Oliver frowned. “You are?”

“
Yes. Now I know what to
expect. I can anticipate, move forward.” Damon leaned back down and
tucked Oliver close. He almost shook his head in frustration, but
just managed to stop himself as he knew Oliver might misunderstand
his reaction. Some Dom he was. He replayed their conversation in
his mind from yesterday, while his hand moved soothingly up and
down Oliver’s arm. Oliver didn’t seem to notice the small scars on
his arms, but when he was asleep Damon had counted every one of
them, knew where they all were. He was asking too many questions he
already knew the answers to. It was about time he stopped
pretending. He knew what Oliver needed, Oliver might not, but he
did.

He dropped another kiss on Oliver’s hair and
slid his arm out. “You’re hungry.” He ignored Oliver’s lips that
parted on a denial. “You are going to eat. Come with me.”

Damon carefully steadied Oliver, and walked
him to the kitchen. He ignored the hitch in Oliver’s breath as they
walked in. Damon smiled. The oven was on low, and he knew the food
was wrapped and keeping warm in there. He grinned to himself; Adam
would want to mother Oliver.

“
Let me guess. Pancakes?
Bacon?” Damon asked.

Oliver blushed, and Damon was pleased. The
question and the normality had pulled Oliver out of a bad memory.
He didn’t want any room in his apartment associated with a bad
experience. Making Oliver go back in the kitchen was the right
decision, but he was going to call Derek as soon as Oliver was fed.
He needed advice. This was important, Oliver was important, and he
wasn’t going to mess this up for either of them.

Damon was happy with the amount he’d managed
to get Oliver to eat. He settled Oliver with pillows on his huge
sofa, and got him to choose a DVD. He smiled to himself. With the
amount of yawning Oliver was doing, he wasn’t sure he’d make it
awake past the credits, and that was something else he needed to
ask Derek about. He’d just slept around fourteen hours and he was
tired again already. He needed to know if that was normal.

Damon chuckled quietly to himself, and
brushed Oliver’s hair away from his closed eyes. He arranged him so
his hands were protected by pillows, then moved into the bedroom to
make some phone calls.

Chapter Nine

Oliver shyly studied the doctor that Damon
had introduced as Master Jameson. He was chatting quietly with
Damon, not seeming to need any information from Oliver, which was
good. He liked being left alone. Oliver gazed at them both,
confident he wasn’t being watched. They were both very different.
Damon was quite large and powerful, while the doctor seemed less
so.

No, that wasn’t quite right. The doctor had
the same self-confidence that Damon exhibited, just quieter, less
threatening almost. Not that he thought Damon was a threat to him.
Oliver smiled. Okay, well maybe a little bit of a threat, but only
to his peace of mind. Oliver watched the doctor with his lined,
slightly scarred face laugh at something Damon said. He had one
scar that looked very old, maybe he’d done something silly as a
kid—fallen off a bike maybe? No one would have done that to him on
purpose surely, just because all Oliver’s scars were deliberate,
didn’t mean everyone’s were.

Damon laughed again. Master Jameson had been
in South America doing some consulting work, and he was describing
a club he had visited. Sounded lovely on the beach, but the man had
been propositioned by kids four times before he’d even made it to
the bar. Oliver grinned; it sounded similar to where he had worked,
and he couldn’t imagine either man in there. Either Dom, Oliver
corrected himself silently—he wasn’t stupid. He’d known why Damon
had introduced the doctor as Master Jameson.

“
Damon tells me he has
explained you have choices, Oliver.” Oliver turned his head to the
doctor’s smiling face. “About where you want to live, short
term.”

Oliver nodded. The nursing home, yes, but he
was staying here. He looked at Damon. The doctor pulled a leaflet
out of his jacket pocket and put it in front of Oliver.

“
I run Gage’s house. Have
you ever heard of it?”

“
I—” Oliver looked at Damon
for guidance. He vaguely remembered some mention in the hospital.
Damon was staring at the leaflet though, not at Oliver.

Master Jameson carried on smoothly. “This is
a charity, a safe house. There will be a bed made there for you
immediately, should you ever need it. I believe it was explained to
you it would be a choice available only when your hands were
functioning properly, but that isn’t so. It can be made available
any time you require it to be.” Master Jameson gazed at Oliver
steadily. “You will never be required to give a reason should you
want to move there, merely ask. Damon will always make sure you
have access to this information at all times, and I will call or
visit daily for the next two weeks initially.”

Oliver was confused. He glanced at Damon
again, and his heart thumped a little loudly. Did he want him to
go?

The doctor grinned. “Damon is doing
remarkably well not jumping into this conversation.” He glanced at
Damon who grimaced slightly. “I need to know you are here of your
own free will, and that you understand this accommodation comes
with no strings attached.”

The doctor turned and glanced at Damon as he
spoke, and Damon nodded once tersely. Oliver suddenly understood,
and remembered Damon telling him repeatedly that the offer of him
living here didn’t come with strings attached. Damon glanced up at
that moment. His grey eyes steady, calm. Oliver smiled
hesitantly.

“
I am including Damon in
this initial conversation,” Master Jameson said, “but thereafter
you will see me privately.”

Oliver looked at Damon again, but Damon had
relaxed, so Oliver did too. “I understand.” Oliver glanced at the
leaflet, and added a little more confidently. “This looks like a
good place, thank you.”

The doctor nodded, apparently satisfied. He
looked at Damon. “Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to make
us some coffee?” Master Jameson pinned Damon with a serious look.
“Please, take your time.”

Oliver looked, shocked. Damon had just been
politely told to get lost for a few minutes, and judging by the wry
smile of acceptance on Damon’s face, Damon was okay with that.

Oliver shuffled slightly, uncomfortable. He
was going to be the focus of the doctor’s attention, and he hated
that. Then Master Jameson surprised him by standing up and going to
the glass wall in the apartment. “I’m not sure I could cope with
having one of these. Heights aren’t really my thing.”

“
I think it’s beautiful.”
Oliver rushed to defend Damon’s home.

The doctor nodded thoughtfully, and kept
looking out the window. Before Oliver had even realized it, they
were having an easy conversation about places they had visited,
which of course for Oliver wasn’t many. Well, if you didn’t count
the trailer parks. His breath hitched as he bit off that sentence;
he wasn’t sure he was ready to share that yet.

The doctor smiled, seemed to sense that
Oliver had finished talking, and opened the door that led to the
kitchen. Oliver hadn’t realized it had been closed, but Damon took
it as a sign and came in with coffee and juice. Damon put Oliver’s
coffee in his special mug without being asked. Oliver was grateful;
he didn’t want attention brought to the fact that he had to suck
everything through a straw. He casually let his more workable hand
graze the cup slightly, and realized he needed the bathroom, which
was awkward. He wondered if he could get his sweats down without
help. He shuffled again and drew Damon’s enquiring look, but he
felt silly saying anything in front of the doctor. He suddenly
needed to pee urgently.

Master Jameson stood up. “I’m going to call
in tomorrow. I have the rest of the week free.” He glanced at
Damon. “Twoish?”

Damon nodded, and followed him out.

Oliver hurried into the bathroom. He stared
at the toilet. The seat was down, so he could sit. He tried with
his elbows to snag his sweats, and frustrated, desperately pulled
the elastic with his fingers. The bolt of pain was immediate, and
Oliver felt sick and giddy. He tried to work out how he was going
to avoid pissing himself.

The burn was becoming worse and more
uncomfortable. He was useless, he needed Damon. Tears dribbled down
Oliver’s face and he slid to the floor.

****

Damon leant against the door of his
apartment. “So, what do you think?” He’d made sure Derek already
knew the circumstances surrounding Oliver that weren’t in his
medical files, and had told him about the panic attack.

Damon saw Derek glance around. “This is a
private floor,” Damon said. “There are no other apartments on
here.”

“
What’s Oliver’s
safeword?”

Damon’s eyebrows shot up. “Safeword?”
Christ, what did Derek think he was doing? “I’m not—”

Derek held a hand up. “I know,” he
continued, “but, you don’t have to tell me that you don’t have that
dynamic already in your relationship. We both know ninety-five
percent of domination is in the head.” Derek sighed in frustration.
“For God’s sake, man. I don’t need to tell you this.”

Damon let his head fall back on the wall,
hard. Of course. “You’re right. You don’t. I should have already
have put that in place.”

Derek patted his arm. “It wasn’t a
criticism, it was a reminder. This will be incredibly hard on you
too. Is the boy sleeping?”

“
Too much,” Damon said
ruefully. “What do you think?”

Derek shook his head. “I won’t insult either
of you by jumping to conclusions. The hospital has put him on
anti-anxiety meds and also anti-depressants, which I intend to
review. Sleep may just mean his body is healing, and this is going
to be a very long process.” Derek paused. “His imprisonment was
just the culmination of a shitty life so far, and it may mean
Oliver is convinced he doesn’t deserve any better. I noted the
comments about the old scars on his arms and thighs and I will talk
to Oliver tomorrow. Any immediate physical issues? Has therapy on
his hands started?”

Damon nodded. “Yes. He’s due another visit
today. I was going to run some errands while the nurse is here. I’m
going to leave it another couple of days, then get Adam round
again. Unless you don’t think I should?”