The waiting area at emergency room was so quiet and still that it left FP uneasy. With the only sound being distant footsteps of voices of unseen people from further up of the hall and the occasional clatter of the reception nurse's keyboard, the pervading hush made him feel at odds with himself, igniting an itch beneath his skin, an urge to do something. To get up, to move, to pace back and forth along the floor. Except he'd already tried that, and he'd gotten bored with it after just two lengths across the room.

He was nervous, he'd admit that. After all, right now there was a body of a police deputy that he'd tortured lying in the fucking backyard of the town's sheriff, with the sheriff's son now at this very hospital, just rooms away. Meanwhile, FP didn't know if his home would be standing by the time he got home, so God only knew if he and his son were going to have a place to sleep that night.

It was pretty much a clusterfuck. But it was a clusterfuck that he need to do his best to control. Somehow.

"Go and find Keller," he'd ordered Severine as she'd helped him load Kevin's unconscious form into the cab of his truck. "He'll be at Sunnyside. Send him over to meet me at the emergency room at the hospital. Let him know his son is there. Then go and make sure to keep the younger Serpents corralled for a little while longer."

She'd nodded in confirmation, turning to her bike. FP had scanned the yard, noting that Tall Boy and Cain were helping that football player into his Dodge Swinger. They'd be getting him to the hospital, too; one of them would be doing the driving since the kid was probably concussed.

And with that, knowing that two more Serpents were checking Ashton's body, making sure nothing incriminating to them could be found, he'd fired up his truck and sped off to bring Kevin to the hospital, the Dodge Dart quickly appearing to follow behind with Cain at the wheel.

The three of them had managed to drag Kevin and the football kid into the ER, and the staff had taken over from there, wheeling them away on gurneys, with the football kid mostly conscious and Kevin still totally out of it, much to FP's worry. He'd tried to answer the nurse's questions the best he could when asked, but hadn't actually known many details beyond what he could guess: that Ashton had attacked them both and hadn't held back even a goddamn bit. And when she'd walked away to enter the little information he could supply into the computer, he'd sent Tall Boy and Cain to go check on the residents of the Andrews house. Tall Boy would lead the Serpents currently guarding them back to the trailer park to help with any clean-up efforts, and Cain would let the Andrews household and its guests know to stay calm and that FP would be along to explain himself shortly.

As soon as he was done explaining himself to the sheriff.

FP grimaced at the thought. It wasn't that he was afraid of Tom Keller, but he knew he would have to tread carefully to avoid incriminating himself or the Serpents. And he'd have to tell Tom what a monster Ashton had truly been. Both what he suspected Ashton had done to kids from the Southside and what he knew that Ashton had done to Kevin.

Low dread coiled in FP's gut when his thoughts flashed to the inevitable conversation he would need to have with Tom. He'd be a liar if he claimed that any love was lost between the two of them, but it was only a sick motherfucker who would take any pleasure in letting another parent know their kid had been brutalized.

And that kid could so easily have been Jughead instead of Kevin.

The knowledge unsettled FP, and he was left scrubbing at his face with his hands. It was a twisted thing, he knew, to be grateful that it had been someone else's kid getting raped and not his own, but at least FP had stepped up to the task when that other kid had to come to him for help. And he figured he still owed it to Kevin to stick around and help him out any way he could, even though there was not doubt in his mind that Tom was going to tear into the waiting room at any moment, halfway down the warpath already and ready to obliterate anyone or anything he thought might have landed his son in the hospital.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than did a flurry of rapid footsteps from heavy boots echo in from the adjoining hallway. Then, in an instant, Tom Keller himself strode into the room, his shoulders taut with tension and a look of barely restrained fury on his face.

Speak of the devil.

Tom's eyes narrowed as they landed on FP, but first he turned to the reception desk, urgency replacing his anger as he leaned forward to speak with the nurse.

"I'm here for an update on Kevin Keller," he said, his tone rushed but quiet. "He's been admitted, correct?"

"Of course, Sheriff." The nurse, a bespectacled young woman, tapped away on her keyboard. "He was admitted about a half hour ago with injuries suggestive of a physical assault. It's conclusive with what we were told about his circumstances." Her head ever so slightly turned toward FP, enough for Tom to shoot him an accusing look, before she gave her full attention back to Tom. "Your son is currently still in an examination room, but he's not in any immediate danger. Given that he's a minor, we called the station as soon as he was admitted to report his condition. You're the first officer who's arrived."

"That'll be because of the fire at Sunnyside and the high school dance," Tom informed her, an edge of frustration entering his voice. "The station just didn't have anyone to spare. But I'm here now, and I'll be staying until I can see Kevin."

The nurse nodded. "Understood, Sheriff. I'll page Kevin's doctor and let her know. She'll be out here to speak with you right away."

"Thank you." Tom turned away from her and stalked over to FP, his mouth set in a grim line as he came to stand before him.

"You want to tell me what the hell is going on?" he asked in a very tightly controlled voice. "Why my son is in the hospital? And why you sent one of your Serpents to tell me so?"

FP had to fight against the urge to rise to stand level with Tom; his first instinct was to bolt up and meet him head-on, but he forced it down. He wasn't here to challenge Tom, just to deliver devastating news.

"Tom." He looked up at him, trying to keep his voice even. "You should sit down."

Tom threw him a look of impatience mixed with contempt. "Like hell am I sitting down. My son should be at a goddamn school dance, and instead, he's at the hospital. And you're going to tell me why. " He finished by sending an emphatic stare FP's way.

"And I will," FP said, struggling to keep his calm, anxiety mixing with the dread stewing within him. "But I think you're definitely going to want to sit down for this one."

His sincerity must have been evident in his tone, because some of the harshness on Tom's face faded to be replaced by worry, and he reluctantly lowered himself into a chair by FP, leaving an empty seat in between them.

"What is it, FP?" Tom asked, staring at him intently. "What's going on?"

FP took a deep breath, trying to gather any wits he had about him. "Wes Ashton is dead," he said flatly but quietly. Tom instantly reared back in surprise, but FP held up a hand for his silence. "He tried to attack Kevin and his date over at your place. Took a wrong turn in the woods back there and ended up with his neck snapped at the bottom of that dried-up riverbed."

Tom let out a strangled noise of disbelief. " Wes? Attacked Kevin ? But . . . why? He's one of the best guys on my force!"

FP's stomach twisted with guilt; he knew he'd promised to keep Kevin's secret for Tom, but given the situation, there was no way he could avoid explaining. Besides, he knew if it had been Jughead in Kevin's place, he'd have wanted to know the truth so he could be there for his boy.

"He'd raped Kevin just earlier that week," FP told him, fresh disgust for Ashton coiling in his stomach as he spoke the words. "And he'd tried to do the same thing back when the summer was just starting."

Shock and then devastation filled Tom's features, and he looked away, blinking in disbelief, his mouth opening and shutting several times, unable to speak. After several moments of silence, he looked back at FP again, shock on his face that was slowly morphing into horror.

"How do you know this?" he rasped, a haunted look glinting in his eyes.

In spite of all their differences, FP felt a distinct stab of sympathy for him. "Kevin came to me this past Wednesday, the morning after Ashton raped him. I'd seen them together a few days earlier, and it looked like Ashton was hasslin' him, so I put a stop to it. And when Kevin told me the truth about what had happened, I decided to . . . take action," he finished carefully, not wanting to confess to any of his or the Serpents' crimes just yet.

Tom rubbed at his face with his hands, his shoulders slumped. "Kevin went to you ? About—about something like this ?"

He let the obvious question of Why didn't he come to me? remain unspoken.

FP paused briefly. The idea of a son going to a different father for help hit a little bit too close to home for him, reminding him of all the times that Jughead had gone to Fred Andrews rather than him. So he tried his best to shrug and play it off.

"Ashton was threatening Kevin, telling him he'd get to you and Jughead if he tried to tell anyone. That he'd hurt you and frame Jughead for it. And since Kevin knew by then that I was no fan of Ashton, he decided I should know," FP told him. He was unable to stop his voice from hardening as he added, "No one threatens my son and gets away with it. Should've done it sooner—Ashton had been rumored for years to be a rapist."

"What?" Tom looked at him sharply, stunned disbelief overtaking his face again. "There are other victims? Other kids who Wes—?"

"Just rumors," FP repeated. "I mean, I don't doubt it. If Wes was willing to go after your kid . . ." he trailed off when he saw that Tom looked away, pain and fury flashing across his face. "No one else ever came out and said it. Just talked about it happening to Southside kids who crossed Ashton. He had a reputation, and even though Kevin was the first kid who came to me about it, God knows how many other kids he made do the same thing."

Tom let out a weary exhale, his voice taking on a frantic tone. "We'll have to do a complete review of all of Wes's casefiles. See how much access he had to minors, encourage any past victims to come forward, check to see if he was leveraging charges in exchange for sexual favors. It'll take months to review, but it'll happen. And—" he cut off, a muscle in his jaw working frantically before he covered his face with his hands, raw agony in his voice. "Oh, Jesus, Kevin!" He burst out of his chair, striding forward, his fists clenching and unclenching helplessly. "Goddammit, I should have known!"

Another stab of guilt for telling Tom about Kevin struck FP, and this time, he knew it was irrational. No matter who told Tom the news, it was always going to be painful, and it was just as well that FP had shouldered the responsibility instead of leaving it to the hospital-bound teenager who was already drowning in his own troubles.

"He didn't want you to know," FP told Tom as comfortingly as he could. His mind skipped back to the memory of Kevin coming to visit him at the trailer that day. "He didn't want to upset you. And I know how stupid that sounds," he rushed to say. "But what do you want, Tom? He's 's gonna do dumb things. And more importantly, he did it because he cares about you. I could tell, when he came and talked to me, that the only reason he opened up his mouth was because he was worried about you and Jughead. Anything he did or didn't do where Ashton is concerned is because he wanted to protect you." He let out a sigh himself. "Look, I know what it's like to have a kid who thinks he has to keep things from you for your own good. It's a suckerpunch to the gut to think he doesn't trust you. But you gotta realize then that he was just trying to do right by you."

Tom took several deep breaths, clearly forcing down his anger and despair and trying to regain his composure. When he turned back to FP, taking several long strides back to him, he was still clearly upset, but he'd managed to rein it in for the moment, clearly determined to have control of his emotions.

"You're right," he said evenly, in a voice of hard-won calm. "You're right. This isn't about me, it's about him." He looked at FP directly. "And speaking of doing the right thing, I've got to thank you for helping Kevin when he needed it. That was good of you. I don't know how to repay you."

The praise made FP feel distinctly awkward and uncomfortable; he didn't typically think of himself as a very good person, and to be complimented for having basic standards of being a decent human being somehow made him feel worse.

So he waved it off. "You don't worry about that now. Just take care of your kid," FP replied as casually as he could manage.

"No. I'll make it a priority." Tom looked at him, a newfound respect glimmering beneath the worry in his gaze, replacing the disdain that was normally there whenever he looked at FP. "Now that you've done right by my boy, I'm going to do right by you and the Serpents."

A doctor walked out of the emergency room then, her eyes swiveling directly over to them and fixing on Tom. Before she could open her mouth, Tom had bolted up and strode over to her.

"I'm Sheriff Keller, Kevin's father. What's the news?" Worry was evident in his voice.

"He's safe," the doctor said, repeating the same words that the nurse had used earlier. "But I think we need to speak privately about some of the injuries we found during the examination."

Tom followed her out of the room, turning and giving a final nod at FP before parting. FP nodded back, waiting before Tom left before slumping back into his chair, only then realizing how exhausted he was. And he still had to go over to the Andrews' house and then figure out what the damage was to the trailer park . . . dammit, he should've thought to ask Tom. 'Course, Tom had enough on his plate as it was at the moment. FP's thoughts flashed briefly to Kevin. He really did hope the kid would make it through okay and that the doctor hadn't found anything that was going to make his life even worse.

Wearily, FP hauled himself to his feet, his muscles aching from too much stress and too little sleep, but he still began trudging for the door.

He still had work to do, and he still had to make sure his own kid and the Serpent kids were all safe.

In movies and books Kevin had seen about people waking up in the hospital, they often didn't know where they were at first. They usually needed to ask someone about it, and sometimes they wondered if they were in heaven instead.

Kevin knew he was in a hospital the entire time he was slowly coming into awareness. No heaven had the slow and steady beep of a nearby heart monitor or the faint but sharp odor of antiseptic.

As he slowly managed force the dregs of sleep from his brain, not quite able to lift his eyelids just yet, he became vaguely aware of a conversation happening just a few paces away, probably just a step or two outside of his room.

" . . . still not awake?" It was a female voice, one he dimly recognized, but not one he could place.

"Not yet." Even half unconscious, Kevin knew that voice instantly: it was his father. He felt relieved to hear him, but he couldn't quite recall why.

"The doctors think it's relatively normal, given the trauma of the situation and how it went untreated," his father continued. He sounded very tired when he said it. "But they said he should make a full recovery, so I guess we're very lucky, all things considered."

There was something else in his voice that Kevin didn't like, some type of anger, some type of fear, and he wanted to go and comfort his dad, to hug him and hold him tightly. But he couldn't manage to summon the energy to force himself to be entirely awake just yet.

"Oh, Tom." The woman sounded genuinely sympathetic. "If there's anything I can do—"

"You've done enough," Tom replied, warmth clear in his voice despite his weariness. "Thank you, Sierra. For the clothes and the food and for everything else you've done. I can't tell you how grateful I am."

"No need to be grateful," the woman replied firmly. "I'm happy to do all I can."

There was the ping of a phone reminder alert, and the woman sighed.

"I have to run," she said reluctantly. "But let me know as soon as Kevin wakes up, okay?"

"Okay," Tom agreed softly. "I will. And thank you for everything."

There was a faint sound of what might have been a quick peck on the lips, and then the steadily fading click-clack of departing high heels.

Kevin almost drifted off again then but caught himself in time, beginning to fight for full consciousness. It was a narrowly won struggle, because he desperately wanted to go back to sleep, but at long last, he finally pried his eyes open.

He found himself lying in an upright-positioned bed in a small, softly lit hospital room that had only maybe a quarter of the overhead lights turned on. The shades were halfway drawn on the windows and sunlight glowed at the edges of the curtains, spilling forth to splinter in gleaming patches across the tile floor and onto the sheets that were drawn up to his chest.

As he glanced around, he noticed an IV in his arm and registered the heart monitor attached to his chest, poking out from beneath his hospital gown. And next to his bed was his father, sitting in a chair, bent over with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

"D—" Kevin tried to speak, but his voice grated in his dry throat, and it took him several attempts before he could wheeze out the rest of the word. "D-D-Dad?"

Immediately, Tom sat up straight, his eyes snapping to Kevin's face and an expression of enormous relief filling his features.

"Oh, thank God," he breathed, abandoning his chair to sit down beside Kevin on the bed, taking care to avoid the various lines hooked up to him. But he didn't hesitate to gather Kevin into his arms and hold him close, wrapping his arms around him tightly.

"I was worried about you," Kevin heard him just barely whisper. "My God, Kev, I was so worried about you."

"It's okay, Dad," Kevin said, barely aware of what he was saying, just happy to be in his father's embrace. The warm, solid presence of his father made him feel safe and loved. For several moments, he remained there, content to just be hugged by his father. It felt like a soothing remedy to a wound he hadn't known he had.

Eventually, his father pulled back slightly, but still remained close, gently stroking Kevin's cheek with his thumb. "I'm just so glad you're safe." Pain and guilt filled his eyes. "I know all about Wes. And I'm so, so sorry I wasn't there for you when it was happening. I should've known. I should have realized—"

Wes. In the blink of an eye, all that had happened rushed back to Kevin, from telling FP the truth, to Wes attacking him and Moose at the house, to Wes lying motionless at the bottom of the gulley, obviously dead.

And Moose. Moose. What had happened to Moose?

"Is Moose okay?" Kevin asked frantically, interrupting his father. His pulse started racing as the image of Moose reeling back from Wes's vicious blow, falling to the ground, and then remaining there flashed through his mind. The heart monitor registered his panic, increasing its beeps in tandem.

"He's fine," Tom said immediately, going to rub Kevin's back soothingly. "Sweetheart, he's okay. You're both okay. It's gonna be okay."

Some of the panic left Kevin, but not all of it, and he found himself gazing at his father in trepidation. As relieved as he was to hear that Moose hadn't been seriously hurt and nor had he, he realized that he finally had to confront the worst part of this entire debacle with Wes. It was the part he'd dreaded the most, even moreso than the rape itself.

He had to talk about what had happened with his father.

Kevin swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as he forced himself to meet his father's gaze. "You know about me and Wes, then, don't you?"

His father nodded once, looking older than Kevin had ever remembered seeing him. "I do."

Kevin's stomach dropped and he looked away, shame burning through him, but Tom's arm around him only tightened, and he very gently lifted Kevin's chin with one hand so he could look him in the eye.

"I want you to know that you have nothing to feel guilty for," Tom said fiercely. "Nothing. What he did to you, Kevin, it was wrong, plain and simple. You have no responsibility for any of it."

"I should have told you," Kevin confessed, guilt churning in his stomach despite what his father had just said. "Instead of running away to Montana and then trying to avoid Wes, I should have gone to you right away. I was just—" he broke off, feeling tears swell in his eyes, and he frantically tried to work down the lump that was rising in his throat.

"No, Kev, no, it's all right." Tom looked like he wanted to say something else, but then seemed to think twice about it. Still rubbing Kevin's back a while longer, he closed his mouth and looked like he was considering his words for a moment, but then he went on. "You were doing the best you could in the situation that you were dealt," he told Kevin, his voice tender but firm. "I know why you didn't tell me. FP explained most of what was going on, and the doctors were able to . . . confirm what Wes did to you."

Kevin cringed as it dawned on him that even more people knew of the violation he'd suffered at Wes's hands, but his father, ever protective, refused to let him despair at the prospect even for a moment.

"You needed help, Kev," he said, his tone refusing to hear any argument. "And there's nothing wrong with that, you hear? Nothing. It was important to have a doctor examine you after Wes attacked you. After he attacked you twice." His voice grew a little bit strained, and, looking up at him, Kevin thought he caught extra moisture glinting in his green eyes, the ones so much like his own. "You have nothing to feel ashamed of. And with the damage still clear from the first time, well—"

This time it was Tom who had to turn away, a muscle in his jaw working rapidly as he tried to compose himself. Several moments passed until he silently turned back again and reached to cup Kevin's face again.

"I'm so sorry that I let this happen to you," his father whispered, agony clear on his face and self-reproach in his every word. "One of my own men, one of my most trusted. One I was trying to have over for dinner, for Christ's sake!" He let out a huff that was somewhere between a scoff and a sob. "And I never suspected once that he was hurting you. And you—you had to live with my failure. My one kid, the only one I have, and that's what I let happen to you." Obviously overcome with emotion, he pressed a hand into his eyes, turning away slightly as his shoulders began trembling.

Kevin's heart ached for his father, and he felt horrible for being part of the situation that was causing him so much grief. He'd always wanted to spare his father this pain, wanted to be his escape from the constant stress of his work, not the cause of it.

"It's not your fault," he insisted, surprised at how steady his voice came out. He grabbed his father's shoulder, pulling him to face him again. "I didn't tell you because I wanted to protect you, Dad. You couldn't have known. I made my own choices, and it was about keeping people safe—you, Jughead, and my other friends. I'd do it again if it meant keeping Wes away from the people that I love."

Kevin squeezed his father's shoulder. "I love you," he said, his voice coming out hoarse again. "I love you, Dad. I'd do anything to protect you. I did this to protect you."

In an instant, Tom pulled away from, a variety of emotions rapidly flitting across his features. Kevin only caught the first and final one: genuine disbelief and then frustration mixed with sadness.

"It's not your responsibility to protect me!" Tom informed him heatedly, staring straight at him, seeming very startled. "Jesus, Kevin, I'm supposed to be the one protecting you! Don't you think I'm capable of doing that?"

Unable to stop himself from flinching at his father's raised voice, Kevin looked down at the sheets over his hospital bed, plucking nervously at the fabric as anxiety swelled within him, rising like floodwaters. This conversation was precisely what he hadn't wanted, why he hadn't told his father the truth: he hadn't wanted their relationship to change, for Wes to marr the bond between them.

And yet, he clearly had.

To his credit, Tom looked immediately regretful as soon as the words left his mouth, and he rushed to reassure Kevin. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to snap at you. Because this isn't your fault. This shouldn't have been your fight. And you . . ." he reached out and gripped Kevin's hand, looking at him desperately. "You're allowed to be hurt, you know that? I know you didn't tell me because you wanted to protect me, but if you also had other reasons, if you were scared, or if you were afraid of how I'd react, that would be okay, too. I'm not going to hold that against you. You can feel upset by what happened."

The tears from earlier had never quite subsided in Kevin's eyes, and now they pressed at Kevin's lids again, threatened to spill forth as the swelling in his throat grew, rendering him unable to speak.

"You can be hurt, Kev," his father whispered to him, giving his hand a squeeze. "You're not indestructible, and you don't have to pretend to be. Just . . ." his voice cracked a little bit. "Please don't think you have to hide from me again."

"I . . ." Kevin started his sentence but found himself unable to finish it as the room around him blurred and then he could feel one of the tears slip down his face. He tried to brush it aside, but more were already flowing down his face, and when he tried to take a deep breath to calm himself, a shuddering gasp escaped his throat.

Without wasting a moment, Tom had swept him into his arms again and was holding him tightly once more.

"You were so strong, Kevin," he told him lowly, rubbing his back again. "You were so brave. But you don't have to be, not anymore. I'm here. I'll protect you now."

A deep ache erupted within Kevin at the words, so fierce and so raw that he didn't know how he could have ever ignored it before, but he knew that he could ignore it no longer.

Burying his face into Tom's neck, he inhaled his scent as best he could, letting the familiar smell of his aftershave and the worn leather of his sheriff's jacket wash over him. He tried to find comfort in them, in the warm memories they raised, in the feeling of home that settled within him the moment the scents reached his consciousness.

But the comfort from the past wasn't quite enough of a balm to mend the wounds of the present.

"We'll get through this," Tom said, his voice soft but determined. "We'll get through this together, I promise. I'm here for you, Kevin. I'm always here."

Kevin believed him. He had always believed in his father. He'd always known that Tom would protect him from Wes, always known that he would be his staunchest supporter. So he'd tried his best to protect Tom. Tried to protect his dad.

Look at how that had worked out.

A sob started to rise in his throat, and Kevin battled to push down, to push it away. As he did his best, gripping at his father's back in concentration, he became aware of just how violently he was trembling.

"We're going to get through this," his father murmured to him. "We're going to be all right. You're going to be okay."

No longer able to hold back, a strangled sob burst through from Kevin's throat, and he pressed harder against Tom's neck. And then, clinging to the shoulders of the father that he knew loved

him and had known that he always would, Kevin finally allowed himself to cry.

After a little while alone with his father, a nurse knocked gently on the door and asked if it was all right to take his vitals. Knowing she was asking out of politeness and that she'd need to do her job regardless, Kevin agreed. When she finished, she seemed pleased with the results, removing his IV drip and heart monitor before leaving. And not long after she'd departed, a doctor arrived, a tall, slender woman who wore her long dark hair in a loose side braid. She introduced herself as Dr. Navarro and explained she wanted to give Kevin a cursory examination.

"Just as a precaution," she said, her voice confident and reassuring. "You were examined upon arrival, of course, but we wanted to confirm your symptoms just to be positive there aren't any complications."

For privacy, she asked Tom to leave the room, and he did, giving Kevin's shoulder a comforting squeeze before he departed.

"I'm just going to wait down the hall," he promised. "I'll be right there if you need me."

Kevin did his best to give his dad a smile, very consciousness that his eyes were still puffy and that the doctor probably could realize that he'd been crying earlier. "Got it, Dad. Thanks."

"We should only be about twenty minutes," Dr. Navarro informed him, turning up her palm to glance at her watch, which she wore on the back of her wrist rather than the front.

Kevin's stomach twisted in dread at having to endure being poked and prodded and interrogated for the next third of an hour, but was cheered slightly when Dr. Narravo gave him a friendly smile as his father left, closing the door behind him.

"You can relax," she told him, her brown eyes compassionate and good-humored. "This exam is only going to be short and isn't going to be at all invasive, okay?"

"Okay," Kevin replied, some of the tension leaving his shoulders, and he did his best to lean back against the pillows, trying to put himself at ease.

Dr. Navarro gave him an understanding smile but didn't comment, instead moving forward with her task.

"We had some concerns about head injuries when you were brought in yesterday, and while our tests didn't show any problems, I'd like to make sure. Let's start with just a few routine questions. Can you tell me the month?"

"September," Kevin replied promptly, eager to prove himself and end the examination as soon as he could.

Dr. Navarro gave an approving nod and made a mark on her clipboard. "And can you tell me what you ate for breakfast this past Wednesday?"

Wednesday. That had been the day he'd gone to visit FP, Kevin realized with a guilty jolt, glancing quickly at the doctor. There was no way she could know about what they'd done to Wes, he reminded himself. It wasn't like FP or any of the Serpents would be lining up to tell her.

"I didn't eat breakfast on Wednesday," he answered as smoothly as he could. "I, um . . ." his throat felt like it wanted to close as he remembered the oppressive fear that had hung over him then after he's been forced into sex with Wes the previous night. "I-I wasn't feeling well."

Dr. Navarro made a sympathetic noise and wrote that down as well.

The questions continued for the next few moments, adding up to be about ten in all, consisting of basic information about himself, testing both his long and short-term memory. She seemed satisfied with the results, concluding that part of the exam by shining a penlight into his eyes and questioning him if he'd felt dizzy or disoriented since waking up.

"Completely concussion-free," she declared with a smile. "If it's all right with you, Kevin, next I'll be checking your ribs and and your ankle."

"Oh, sure," Kevin said, relieved that all seemed to be doing well so far. A question occurred to him, one he hadn't thought of before, and he now felt foolish for not asking it sooner. "What's actually wrong with me?"

"Bruised ribs and a sprained ankle," Dr. Navarro told him as she donned her stethoscope.

Kevin blinked, amazed that the damage wasn't worse as he remembered his frantic, intense struggle with Wes. "That's it?"

"And more than your fair share of bumps and bruises," Dr. Navarro admitted. "Can you sit up for me? I want to check on your ribs."

Kevin straightened from where he'd been leaning against the pillows, wincing as his shoulders twinged with soreness. Still, in spite of the ache, he held himself upright as Dr. Navarro gently tested his ribs, pressing one hand just below his pecs and having him inhale and exhale deeply as she listened with her stethoscope. While Kevin even normally would have been self-conscious at being touched so closely by a stranger, doctor or not, the knowledge that she was aware of what Wes had done to him brought Kevin heavy discomfort. Every inhale and exhale she instructed him to make was stuttering and shaky, almost whistling out of his lungs.

Dr. Navarro noticed his unease and gave him an encouraging smile.

"I know this is bothering you, and I'm sorry," she told him sincerely. "We're almost done, I promise."

Kevin nodded, trying to remain stoic and cooperate, not wanting to cause her any difficulty when she was merely trying to help him. Still, it was burden off his shoulders when she finished checking on his ribs and moved away, putting some distance between them as she tested his ankle for swelling and tenderness.

She seemed content with her findings of the entire exam at the end, taking the chair that Tom had vacated, scribbling a few final notes on her clipboard.

"All in all, you're on the road to recovery," she observed, glancing up at him between jotting down her findings. "Your ribs should mend first. As long as you take it easy for the next few weeks, wear loose shirts, and use ice packs to ease the ache, I see no reason why you shouldn't make a full recovery. I'll make sure we give you a list of breathing exercises to complete to help with pain relief. But if you notice any shortness of breath at unexpected times, you need to come right back here, you understand?"

"Sure, of course," Kevin replied, eager to conclude the meeting and stop feeling so on edge. He found himself drumming his fingers on his thigh in nervousness, and when he tried to stop to force himself to calm down, only managed to cope for ten seconds before giving in again to the persistent urge.

"The sprain on your ankle is slightly more severe," Dr. Navarro continued. "Your father mentioned that you run competitively for school, but I'm afraid you're not going to be able to continue with the season. We don't want you running on it for at least two weeks, and you're likely going to require a lightweight ankle brace for regular activity for at least a month. The injury isn't as bad as it could be, and you're young and strong, so there's no reason it shouldn't heal fully, but we don't want the interference of extra strain. Beyond your normal routine, you shouldn't be doing anything more strenuous than short walks—a mile on level ground at the very most, at least until we've ensured there are no complications."

Part of Kevin's eagerness drained away as it registered that his long-held fantasy of his entire life going back to normal now that Wes was gone wasn't smoothly transitioning into reality like he'd desperately hoped that it would. He'd been hoping to just easily slip back into his everyday activities, have a mundane life in a mundane world again. But it looked like that was a far-flung hope and always had been.

Dr. Navarro consulted her clipboard. "Barring any unforeseen issues, we have an appointment scheduled for you in a week's time to check that everything is going as expected. "However . . ." She set aside her clipboard and fixed Kevin with a serious gaze, her face still sympathetic but somber. "I also wanted to speak to you about your other injuries. The ones that you sustained earlier this week. Are you experiencing any pain with them at this point?"

Kevin's face flamed and his dropped his gaze to stare at his sheets again. So there it was. She was asking about Wes. He'd known it would have to happen at some point, but that still didn't stop dread and vague nausea from roiling inside his stomach, and he suddenly wanted to bolt from the room.

His mouth suddenly parched, he found himself fumbling for a response. "I'm not. I haven't since a day or two after I first got them. But is everything there . . . okay?" he asked, cringing at even needing to ask and at how juvenile the question sounded.

"Physically, you're fine," Dr. Navarro said reassuringly. "The damage has already begun healing. But the injury itself was very concerning, and there was obviously a significant amount of force used during the . . . act."

While Kevin knew Dr. Navarro was trying to be tactful, he wanted to sink through the floor at her choice of description for Wes raping him. It such a small, neat word that served as delicate euphemism to describe the worst moments of his life, his biggest humiliation and the absolute lowest point he'd ever been reduced to.

There was a pause as Dr. Navarro shifted in her seat, the chair creaking slightly, and she cleared her throat. As she did, Kevin risked a split-second glance at her; noting the unhappiness on her face. Strangely, he couldn't help but feel comforted that he wasn't the only one ill at ease, that at least they both found this conversation difficult.

"And combined with the other older injuries you had, I'm sure you can understand my concern that the encounter may not have been entirely consensual," Dr. Navarro continued. "Kevin, I don't mean to invade your privacy, but as a physician, I have to ask: are these injuries from a willing sexual encounter, or an unwilling one?"

"Unwilling." Kevin's voice cracked; the word felt like it had been scraped out of his dry throat.

Forcing himself to look directly at her, he found that though she looked sympathetic, she didn't seem surprised.

"Thank you for telling me that," Dr. Navarro said kindly. "Can you tell me who it was? Did you know him?"

Kevin tried to draw in a deep breath but couldn't seem to get enough oxygen into his lungs. His heart was pounding, and he felt lightheaded. This would be the first time he ever admitted the truth about Wes to a total stranger, to someone who was asking and who he was answering solely because they were an authority figure and he needed to report what had happened.

"I did know him," he replied eventually. The syllables sounded strange and distorted as he spoke them, and they seemed to come too slow. "It was Wes Ashton. No one helped him. It was just him, and he . . . hurt me."

He looked at Dr. Navarro for her reaction, to see if she was shocked or skeptical, if she was going to condemn him for not fighting back against only one assailant. But she only gave him an encouraging nod, so he continued.

"He was a deputy on my father's police force," Kevin went on. The words still didn't sound right to his ears, somehow both too clipped and overly elongated, and his sudden heavy breathing certainly didn't help them sound normal. "He was the reason Moose and I were admitted here yesterday. He attacked us at my house." A stab of bitterness pierced through him again as he spoke the words, at Wes for ruining the night he'd been looking for forward to, the night that had been the bright spot in his then-miserable life.

But things could be better now, Kevin reminded himself determinedly. His father still loved him and would stand by him. Dr. Navarro seemed to believe him when he'd told her what had happened. Maybe others would, too.

Things could be better now, Kevin repeated mentally, as he raised his eyes to meet Dr. Navarro's gaze. Things would be better now.

Her face was composed and just slightly concerned, and her eyes held nothing but compassion for him. "Thank you," she told him again. "I really appreciate you trusting me with this." She stood, gathering her clipboard, but before she moved away from his bed, she gave his shoulder a light squeeze. "You did the right thing by telling me," she said with a soft smile.

Kevin just nodded numbly, barely able to believe that he had managed to tell someone, but all the same, he was grateful for her calm presence throughout their discussion. She'd been very gentle and hadn't pushed him or tried to make him second-guess himself, and he appreciated that. He didn't think he could have coped if she had been anything else.

"Given that you seem to be recuperating very well, I think you can be released before dinnertime today," Dr. Navarro informed him. "There are a few more tests we have to do, and there's another doctor who'll be stopping in to speak with you, but overall, you're in prime condition." The good humor in her eyes was more apparent than ever as she added, "And I'll be letting your father know when I step out to speak with him, but since you're doing so well, I see no reason why you can't start receiving visitors right away."

Kevin hadn't even considered the prospect of anyone stopping by to see him in the hospital, and now found himself thoroughly taken aback by the idea. "Visitors?"

"As long as you feel up to it," Dr. Navarro advised. "You're not in solitary confinement, Kevin, and you don't have to act as if you are." She gave him a brief wave and walked toward the door. "I have to go speak with your father now, and then I'll be sending him in, but I'll be checking on you again before you're released."

His mind swirling with conflicting thoughts, Kevin barely snapped back into awareness to say goodbye to her. "Yeah, sure. I'll, uh, see you," he managed lamely as she exited, before being swept up again by the debate warring inside his mind.

He wanted to see Moose. That was the very first person he'd thought of when Dr. Navarro had mentioned visitors. He desperately, achingly wanted to see him. Talk to him about Wes, explain just enough without getting into any of the gory details. Apologize to him, both for their date bring ruined and for getting him involved in the situation and being injured as a result. And, of course, thank him for stepping in and trying to defend him from Wes even though he didn't have to. Moose had been so confident in that moment, so intent on helping him, a true beacon of hope in Kevin's darkest hour. And Kevin dearly wanted to see him, to feel that hope again, that sense that things were going to turn out all right after all.

But the scene of Moose collapsing on the ground while Wes towered over him replayed in Kevin's mind, and he couldn't hold back a despairing sigh. He wanted Moose to visit him, sure, but a visit meant he would have to explain the reason for Wes's attack on them in the first place. And while Kevin might have been able to gather the courage to tell Dr. Navarro, he wasn't sure that he would be able to summon the nerve to tell the guy he'd been crushing on for over a year now.

Then again, maybe he was a fool to think Moose would want anything to do with him at all now. From his weird mini-breakdown in Moose's car earlier that week to having some lunatic interrupt their date before it even began, Kevin had been nothing but trouble for Moose during almost every time they'd ever hung out. And given that said lunatic had even jumped Moose twice in one afternoon, Kevin wouldn't blame Moose if he decided to avoid Kevin for the rest of his life.

He wouldn't call Moose, Kevin decided, pushing aside the ache in his heart at not being able to see him and the guilt at not even apologizing for the entire debacle. Not bothering to ask Moose in the first place would spare them both from the awkwardness of Moose needing to decline the invitation. Kevin had already put him through enough as it was.

Who else could he call? Who else did he trust? Six months ago, he wouldn't have hesitated to ask Betty to come and see him, but they'd grown apart so much during the summer and were only just rebuilding their friendship. Dumping all of the sordid details on her at once might bring it to collapse permanently under the strain.

And he had other friends at school—Reggie, Archie, Jughead, Ginger, Midge, Ethel, Josie, and now Veronica—but he wasn't sure he felt comfortable trying to come up with an excuse for any of them about why he was in the hospital in the first place. He didn't think he could handle any scrutiny or questions, and he certainly wasn't going to tell them the truth.

Oddly, as he was considering potential visitors, Kevin found the urge to call FP continually nagging at him, even as he dismissed the idea entirely. The man had already done more than enough for him without being pestered by Kevin any longer—he'd come to rescue him from Wes, Kevin recalled suddenly. He'd arrived when Wes was already dead, but that didn't change what he'd done to try to protect Kevin. And in all likelihood, he'd probably been the one to bring him and Moose to the hospital. He'd already put himself at risk multiple times for him. It wouldn't be fair of Kevin to expect the man to put his life on hold to come running to him again. He'd thank him later, but he'd leave him in peace for now.

With FP not an option, Kevin was surprised to find the prospect of calling the younger Serpents that he knew leaping into his mind, but only for a second. They were still upset with him for not being able to speak with Mr. Weatherbee, he recalled with a heavy heart, and rightfully so. He'd made promises to them and then spectacularly failed to keep them. All because of Wes, he thought with yet another acrid spike of bitterness.

But then it dawned on him.

Wes was dead. He'd prevented Kevin from speaking to Mr. Weatherbee earlier, but there was no reason why Kevin couldn't keep his promise to speak with Mr. Weatherbee now.

His father walked back into the room then, his conversation with Dr. Navarro concluded, and Kevin didn't waste another moment

"Hey, Dad, you wouldn't happen to have Mr. Weatherbee's number, would you?" Kevin asked right away, the words tumbling out of his mouth in his eagerness to put the task to rest.

Surprise was apparent on Tom's face at the question, and he cast Kevin a quizzical glance as he responded. "Waldo? Yeah, I've got his cell for emergencies at the school. Why?"

"Can I have your phone?" Kevin reached out a hand, fresh resolve and a new energy flowing through him. "I have to speak to him. It's about a . . . school administrative matter."

Tom didn't seem convinced, but handed over his phone regardless, then moved to sit on the bed beside Kevin again, close to him but not crowding him. Kevin leaned up against him again, warmth pooling in his stomach as his father gently stroked at his hair. With as reluctant as he'd been to tell his father the truth, it was a relief to have the reassurance that Tom was still determined to be there for him.

Bringing up Mr. Weatherbee's contact info on the phone, Kevin punched the call button and listened to it ring, smiling fully for the first time that day when he got an answer almost immediately.

"Hello, Mr. Weatherbee. It's Kevin Keller. I'm calling you from Riverdale General. I wanted to speak to you. It's about the Southside High merge . . ."

With Wes out of the way, Kevin was going to make things right for the Southside students. No matter how many staff or school board members he had to call from his hospital bed.

Notes:

Sorry for the long delay between updates! I tried to give a more extended chapter to make up for it.

Next chapter will have the reactions of Archie, Betty, Veronica, and Jughead to the situation with the Serpents keeping them at the Andrews house on the night of the dance as well as their reactions to Kevin being attacked. We'll also get to see Kevin with FP and the Serpent teens. And Kevin might just be making a phone call to a particular crush of his . . . or his crush might stop by and surprise him. Oh, and we'll also get to see what happen to the Jones trailer in the trailer park fire.

Next chapter will be the finale, so be sure to let me know if there's something you really want to see/know before it all ends!

Finally, sorry if Tom comes across as a bit weird in this chapter. I was tying my best write him as a single parent who's just experienced a severe shock and is extremely devastated to discover his child was abused by someone he trusted. And he dearly wants to be there for Kevin, but he also feels very guilty, so he's struggling with a few things. But regardless, he loves Kevin and is going to be there for him.

Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate you sticking with the story, and I always love hearing from readers!