I stared at the officers for what felt like an eternity, trying to muster up the courage to recount the story. The detectives stared back, expectantly, growing irritated as the minutes passed and I still hadn't spoken. "Young man, do we need to repeat the question?" Detective Lin asked. I shook my head.

"I c-came home from school, T-Trent dropped me off. Only Adam was h-home because my p-parents were at work."

"Adam is Mr. Baker, correct?" I nodded. "And why was he at your home?" Detective Andrews asked.

"He's my parents b-best friend. He was visiting for the w-week." Detective Andrews nodded and continued to jot my words down in his notebook. "I l-locked myself in my room."

"Why?" Detective Lin interrupted.

"I-I was s-scared."

"Of Mr. Baker?"

"Yes."

"Can you stop stuttering?" Detective Andrews asked. I shook my head no.

"Why were you scared of Mr. Baker?" Detective Lin asked and again I hesitated to answer. "Mr. Daniels, has Mr. Baker ever harmed you before?" I nodded. "I'm going to need a verbal answer on this one," Detective Lin said.

"Y-yes," I stuttered.

"When?"

"W-when I was t-ten," I cried. Mom gasped, Dad punched the wall, I didn't dare look at them.

"What happened then?"

"He... r-raped... me," I choked out between sobs. I looked up at the officers, they were busy taking notes, not even looking at me. They could tell I was growing more upset as the interview went on, but they were unphased by it.

"Was this the only time?"

"No."

"How many other times has he done this?"

"U-until I was... 13,"

"And did he always rape you?"

"Yes."

"When you say he raped you can you define that? Was there anal or oral penetration?" Detective Andrews asked.

"Oh my fucking God can't you see the poor kid is having a panic attack over here!" Trent shouted, his face red with anger as he rose from his chair.

"Son, please sit down. These questions are standard protocol," Detective Andrews replied calmly.

"Yeah well it's shit protocol. How fucking insensitive can you be, the poor kid has a concussion and was just sexually assaulted. I walked in on the bastard in the act what more do you need? Proof? The proof is in the way the paramedics found him!"

"Son, I'm going to-"

"Call me son one more time!" Trent shouted.

"Young man, please leave, before I am forced to escort you out myself," Detective Andrews warned, standing up slightly, hand hovering over his gun. Trent glared at both officers before walking out of my hospital room, slamming the door behind him. I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding as Detective Andrews settled back into his seat, silently thanking the powers that be that Trent decided to leave the room. I couldn't help but think of cases like Andrés Guardado, I couldn't help but imagine Trent becoming a statistic. What would have happened had the police been first on the scene to my assault? The possibilities haunted me, and I tried to push those thoughts out of my mind.

"Please l-leave. I'm d-done answering questions," I said. The detectives stared at me blankly and were about to argue with me. "Out." The cops closed their notebooks, rolled their eyes at each other, and then got up and left without another word. I let out a frustrated scream as I tried to steady my breathing. This whole situation was so fucked up, and my whole world and all of the walls that I built were crumbling around me. Everyone knew my secret; my mom was having a breakdown in the corner of my hospital room over it, I could barely look at my parents.

"Hey Gray, I'm sorry about my outburst but I just couldn't let them keep doing that to you," Trent said as he rushed back into the room.

"It's okay. Will you s-stay with me tonight?" I asked.

"Of course, babe," Trent replied.

"Grayson, your mother and I really think one of us should stay, especially after what we just heard. Son, why didn't you ever tell us about this? We could have reported him, we could have gotten you help."

"I want Trent to stay with me. And I don't w-want to talk about th-this," I stuttered.

"But Grayson," Mom cried.

"Not right now, please," I begged, on the verge of tears again. My mom nodded, and my parents went out to speak with the nurses one last time before leaving for the night.

"Thank you for staying with me," I whispered to Trent as we laid down to try to sleep that night. The nurses had moved the other bed in the room next to mine so that Trent would have someplace more comfortable than a chair to sleep in. I couldn't tell if the nurses were just being super supportive of us or if they were all enamored with Trent.

"Of course, I'd do anything for you," he smiled and reached out his hand, but then pulled it away.

"It's okay, go ahead." He reached his hand back out, brushing my dirty blonde hair off my face. I smiled at his touch, his fingers gently brushing across my forehead. The touch was loving, it was sweet, and it made me feel loved and cared for. It made me a little anxious, to have him touch me, but after today I really felt I could trust Trent.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I feel... free." Trent's brows furrowed. "It's over, well almost. I'll probably have to go to court, but it's over. He can't hurt me."

"No he can't. And hey, you've stopped stuttering!"

"I think I just feel very at ease, now that the circus is over," I laughed.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there," Trent said as he continued running his fingers through my hair.

"It's okay, it's not your fault. You were there to rescue me, and that's what matters."

"I should have been there to stop it from happening in the first place."

"Babe," his eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face when I called him babe. "Please stop beating yourself up over this. You were there for me when I needed you, even when I didn't know I needed you."

"I just can't help but feel like there's more I should have done, more I could have done, I'm just so sorry for all of the pain you've been through."

"It's nothing I don't deserve," I blurted out before I could stop myself.

"Is, is that why you cut yourself?" My eyes darted down, avoiding Trent's gaze as much as I could. Why did I say that? "Gray?"

"I... I don't know. It gave me a rush, and it calmed me down. When I felt overwhelmed, depressed, or when I was having a panic attack, cutting would relax me. So yeah, maybe on some level I felt like I deserved the pain. It was mostly just comforting though."

"I get it, you know. It's why I smoke and drink. Life is just easier when you're numbing your pain. But you've got to find a healthier outlet for your pain, Gray."

"Well isn't the pot calling the kettle black," I laughed.

"I know, I know I have no room to talk. But self-harm is incredibly dangerous boo. You could get an infection or cut too deep. I can't lose you, Grayson."

"You won't lose me; I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"I promise." Trent's hand, that had been playing with my hair this whole time, untangled itself from my blonde locks. I watched anxiously as it reached down, finding my left hand and gently lacing our fingers together. Trent lifted my arm slowly, stopping for a moment to look at the scars on my wrist and run his fingers along them. I shivered at the touch, but I didn't pull away. Trent gently placed a kiss to my scars before returning my arm back to my side.

"Goodnight Grayson Daniels." He whispered.

"Goodnight Trent Rodriguez."