I was released from the hospital the next morning under the condition that my parents make an appointment with a therapist within the next week. My parents had already scheduled an appointment for Saturday morning with Dr. Meyer, the psychiatrist whose card nurse Jenn had given them. My parents drove me home in silence, and I wished so badly that Trent were here with me. I made him go to school, I didn't want him to get in trouble for skipping or get into a fight with his dad. I knew if I asked, he would have stayed, and that was enough for me. He promised that he would come over as soon as he talked to his dad, who he never spoke with after running out after my text to him. His dad texted and called him so much he eventually just shut off his phone and left it in his truck. He was expecting the blowout of the century when he got home, skipping school today definitely would have made things worse.

Despite the doctor's orders, I spent the whole day laying in my bed playing Animal Crossing, well, when I wasn't napping or just laying with my eyes closed to try to get rid of my headache. My parents felt too awful to even bother lecturing me about how the lights from the Switch were bad for my concussion. I soon learned that though, when I had a migraine level headache. I just needed something to distract myself while Trent was gone. My parents were coming into my room every 10 minutes to check on me, and I was going crazy from the revolving door of my parents.

I was so exhausted from spending the night in the hospital. Every time I woke up from a nightmare nurse Jenn was rushing into the room. My heartrate monitor would be freaking out and she was always afraid I was going into cardiac arrest. I had to explain it was just a panic attack and it happened all the time, she still had to run into the room every time. Poor Trent also woke up every time I had a nightmare, usually because I woke up screaming from all of them. It was a really bad night for nightmares, eventually I just gave up on sleep. Trent insisted on staying up with me, and I felt awful because I'm sure he's dying of exhaustion now at school.

A knock at the door pulled me out of my thoughts and my parents entered my room, sullen looks on their faces. "Honey, the police were just here," Mom said as she sat at the foot of my bed.

"What'd they want?"

"They dropped off some documents about a trial. You're going to have to testify in a couple of months."

"Oh," was all I could bring myself to say. I wanted to just forget this whole thing had ever happened. Couldn't they just lock him away forever? Why did there have to be a trial? Every dirty detail of my abuse would be dredged up, put out on display for the world to see. The horrors that he put me through were things I never wanted to tell anyone, and now I would have to talk about it to a courtroom full of people.

"But it's a couple of months away, don't worry about it right now!" Mom tried to make me feel better.

"I j-just want it to be over," I sighed.

"We know, son, but for now it is. Then there will be the trial, which will only take a couple of days, and then you can put it all behind you, knowing that you got justice."

I smiled at my parents but didn't respond. I don't know if I'll ever feel like I got justice. What would this trial do other than make me relive my trauma? My parents knew and I would never have to see him again, that was all I cared about. Dad was right though; the trial was months away and I should try to put it out of my mind. My parents left my room and I thought about seeing Trent when he got out of school, and those thoughts were enough to push the impending trial out of my mind. Soon enough I drifted off to sleep again and dreamt about Trent, and what life could be like now that I was free from Adam Baker.

A knock at my door startled me awake. I jumped up, disoriented and looked to the clock on my nightstand. It was just after four p.m. I called for whoever it was to come in and my smile grew when I saw Trent enter my room. My smile fell, however, when I saw the black and blue mark forming under his left eye. He smiled weakly at me as he walked over and sat on my bed. Shortly after Nat and Brayden entered my room as well, and I forced a smile. I really wasn't in the mood for more company.

"Hey Gray," Nat greeted softly. "How are you?"

"O-okay," I stuttered. I turned to Trent and glared.

"I tried to stop them, but they insisted on coming over." Trent explained.

"Wh-what happened to your eye?"

"We'll talk about it later," he said.

"I appreciate you g-guys coming, but I'm not u-up to visitors."

"What happened to you Grayson? Trent wouldn't say, just that you had a concussion."

"I f-fell," I lied.

"You always were a klutz," Nat laughed. "Hey, what's with the stutter?" She was oblivious, completely and utterly oblivious. But that was Nat. She was bubbly, sweet, and naïve, she never saw the bad in others or in a situation. She had no reason to think something was wrong.

"We're really glad to see you're doing okay Grayson," Brayden said. "We should go Nat, let him get some rest."

"Bye Gray,' Nat waved as her and Brayden left my room. I smiled weakly at them and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding when my bedroom door shut behind them.

"I'm really sorry," Trent breathed out as he scooted closer to me on the bed.

"It's okay," I whispered. "What happened," I reached out and touched his eye. He flinched away from my touch, but then nuzzled his head into my hand.

"Talk with my dad didn't go so well," he laughed.

"Trent," I gasped.

"It's okay, really, he um, he didn't like that I shut my phone off."

"Does he hit you a lot?" I asked.

"He never has before actually, I guess I should have assumed he would eventually. Normally he's too drunk to even yell a coherent sentence at me. But he had to go to work tonight, so he was totally sober. I had never seen him so angry, he demanded to know where I was and who I was with. He accused me of trying to run away and all sorts of crazy shit. I think he has control and abandonment issues."

"You think?" We both laughed. "D-did you tell him about us?"

"No, he's suspicious though. I told him a friend of mine had an accident and I had to stay overnight to make sure they were okay. He thought it was weird, but I refused to tell him anything else, that's when he hit me. Then he immediately broke down crying. It was bizarre Gray; I don't even know."

"I'm sorry I made you fight with him."

"We would have fought regardless, that's all we've done since Mom died," he whispered the end of his sentence, staring off across my room deep in thought. "Anyway, I'll be okay, it's not important. How are you?"

"Okay," I shrugged.

"Care to elaborate?" Trent laughed.

"There's a c-court date in a couple of months. I have to t-testify."

"Then we'll worry about it in a couple of months. How is your head feeling?"

"Like shit."

"My poor baby, is there anything you can take for it?"

"Not really, j-just like over the counter stuff. Doesn't really d-do much."

"Why don't you try to take a nap?"

"I n-napped all day. I want to actually spend time with you while you're here."

"I do too love, but making sure you get better is more important," he said while gently running his fingers through my hair like he had at the hospital. I smiled and leaned into his touch, taking deep breaths to keep myself from panicking. Last night I was still in shock from everything that happened, too in shock to even register Trent's touch or how it made me feel. Today, where my mind is racing at a million miles an hour replaying all of the fucked up shit that has happened in my life, having Trent lying in bed with me, running his fingers through my hair is sending me into a panic. There's also something so comforting about his touch though, and I try to focus on that, on how he saved me, freed me. The more I focused on that feeling the less anxious I felt. Eventually, I felt completely calm and I smiled to myself and closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep as Trent gently stroked my hair.