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"Hey. Hey!"

Hunter rolled a bit to the side before giving a gasp of pain as his sore ribs rebelled at the motion. "What?" he asked looking up into the sun.

"This is the bench I sit on every morning," some old coot said glaring down at Hunter. "Don't you have a home to sleep in?"

"No, I fucking don't! Now leave me the fuck alone!" Hunter shouted before lying back in agony. Forcing that much air into his lungs had hurt like hell.

"Young people! Complete assholes!" the old man grumbled as he started to walk away. "I should call the cops on you," he said as an afterthought as he glanced back at Hunter.

"Go right ahead," Hunter retorted. At this point he didn't give a crap if they came and arrested him. Maybe they'd give him some drugs for the pain in his chest. That would make it all worthwhile.

He slowly released a breath as he looked up at the sun. It had to be late morning if the sun was so high. He must have missed the opening of the office across the road. He turned carefully so he could look over at it. Nothing seemed to be happening there. He couldn't tell if it was open or not.

He knew he should get up and go across the road and ask if John was there. He tried to sit up as another wave of pain gripped his chest. He slumped back down. Maybe he could just lie there and wait for John to come out. Then he could yell and the man would come over to him. Yeah, that's what he would do. He felt slightly nauseous and closed his eyes against the sun.

Some time later Hunter opened his eyes feeling even worse if that was possible. The sun was no longer in his eyes. It had moved way across the sky. It had to be late afternoon. He must have slept for hours, but he didn't feel any better for having done that. He made a futile attempt to sit up. His head swam and his ribs ached and he gave up the attempt as quickly as he had started it.

With great effort he turned his head to look at John's office. He couldn't tell if it was open or closed. He wondered if he had missed John once again. Some movement just down the street caught his eye. It was the same old man from the morning coming towards him with a cop.

"Shit!" Hunter breathed. He didn't want to be arrested.

"Young man," the cop said, "you have to vacate this bench. We don't allow loitering."

"He's been sleeping on that bench all day," the old man told the cop. "I bet he's homeless."

The policeman looked at the old man like he had three heads.

"They probably don't have homeless people in Harrisburg," Hunter thought to himself.

"Son, get up," the cop said giving Hunter a gentle poke with his nightstick.

"I don't think I can," Hunter gasped as he tried to sit and almost felt himself black out.

"I think I better call the paramedics," the cop said. "He doesn't look so good."

"No!" Hunter blurted out. "No, don't do that. I'm waiting for John Anderson to come out of his office."

"You know Mr. Anderson?" the cop asked.

"Yes, I do. I need to talk to him," Hunter said hoping that might calm the cop's worries and get him to go away.

"How are you going to talk to him when you can't get up off this bench?" the cop wanted to know.

"I'll figure something out," Hunter said with the last of his defiance. He struggled and got part way up. The cop grabbed his arm and attempted to raise the boy the rest of the way. The tug on his arm went straight to his broken ribs and he let out a high pitched yell, almost a scream of pain.

"Hey, what's going on over here?" a familiar voice asked.

"Bobby," Hunter gasped looking at the man who had just spoken. Hunter had managed to stay somewhat vertical after being pulled up.

Bobby stared at the kid on the bench not really recognizing the grubby and bruised face that sat in front of him. "Hunter," he said with disbelief as the light began to dawn, "is that really you?"

"It's me," Hunter managed to get out. "I wanted to talk to John."

"I just came to pick him up from his office," Bobby explained. "Do you want me to get him?"

"They're going to arrest me for loitering," Hunter replied with a grimace more from the idea of the arrest than from actual pain.

"If you know this kid, you should get him to a hospital," the cop interrupted apparently glad to turn Hunter over to Bobby and avoid all the paperwork an arrest would entail.

"Can you stand up?" Bobby asked.

"I'll try, if you'll help me."

"Thanks officer, I'll take Hunter from here," Bobby said standing protectively in front of Hunter.

"Just get him out of here," the cop said, "before I get another complaint." He turned and walked away.

The old man who had called the police looked at Hunter. "I want my bench back."

"I'll happily give it to you," Hunter retorted. "You should get your name carved into it," he added as Bobby helped him up.

"Vandals!" the old man yelled as Bobby and Hunter slowly made their way over to the Lincoln Navigator that sat in front of John's office. Bobby eased Hunter into the back seat.

"Buckle yourself in, and I'll go get John. Oh, did you have a knapsack or anything?" Bobby asked looking across the road to where the old man had taken his rightful place on his newly vacated bench.

"Not any more," Hunter said. "It's a long story," he added as Bobby gave him a funny look before heading into the office. Hunter carefully pulled the seatbelt around him and snapped it shut. He leaned his head back against the headrest. Maybe now he was safe. He closed his eyes.

"Hunter, we're taking you to the hospital," John said climbing into the driver's seat as Bobby got in the passenger side. "Bobby told me how he found you. You need medical attention by the sound of it."

"No, please John, can't I just go home with you for a couple of days?" Hunter begged.

"What the fuck are you doing here? What happened to you?"

"Some guys beat me up and stole my backpack and my money … and my watch," Hunter said choking back the tears. He missed the watch more than anything else.

"Fuck!" John replied. "I'm taking you to the hospital to get you checked out."

"I think they broke a couple of ribs. That's all that's the matter with me. It hurts like hell when I move, but they don't do anything about broken ribs anymore. Please, I don't want to go to a hospital."

"I don't know," John said wanting to help Hunter and do what he wanted, but his better judgment told him that the hospital would be wise.

"If you'll let me stay with you for a couple of days, I'll tell you the whole story. I'll be fine," Hunter said as strongly as he could muster. "I haven't eaten or drank anything since yesterday. That's why I'm so fucking … helpless," Hunter admitted as a tear ran down his face.

"All right," John said decisively. "This is what we're going to do. Bobby, call mother and ask her to see if old Doc Adams will come over and look at Hunter. If he says you need a hospital, we go. Okay?" Hunter nodded in the rearview mirror as John started the SUV and pulled away. "There's a bottle of water in the glove compartment. Drink it slowly," John ordered. Hunter nodded as Bobby handed it to him. "And I'm going to drive home missing as many bumps as I can."

"Thanks," Hunter said seeing John smile at him in the mirror. He opened the bottle of water and took a big drink.

"Drink that slowly or you'll make yourself sick," John advised. Hunter nodded and sipped at the water.

Bobby was already on the phone to Claire.

"It'll be all right, Hunter," John said. "You're safe with us."

Hunter closed his eyes as more tears ran down his face. Those were the best words he'd heard in weeks.



*****



"Claire, I thought the Farm was closed up for the season."

"It is, although I think Hunter may benefit from some time there. He's not one of the boys, Dr. Adams. He's the son of a family member. Will Hunter be okay?"

"In time. He has a few cracked ribs, some nasty bruises and cuts. He looks like he could do with some of your fine hearty meals. With rest, he'll be fine in a few weeks. The boy allowed me to examine him. He wasn't sexually assaulted but he may have been in the past. You said you know his family?"

"The boy's parents haven't abused him, if that's what you're thinking. Hunter has had a very hard life. His adoptive parents saved him from the streets. I don't understand what he was doing in Harrisburg. They live in Pittsburgh."

"He intimated that he ran away from home. He's over seventeen so I can't force him to go home nor can I call his parents without his permission. He needs time to sort things out. Claire, you must be careful, he did admit that he's..."

"HIV+, I know. I've read all the literature. You can't get it from casual contact."

"But the boy has open scrapes and bruises."

"I'll be careful. You said he needs rest, he'll get it."

"Bring him to my office in a week. I can x-ray his ribs, check the abrasions. He may take longer to heal. You call me if you need anything, understand me."

"I understand. Thank you, Dr. Adams."

"Claire, I've known you and John for a lot of years. I know how you are with strays and your pet projects like those two boys last year. You were lucky with those two; this one may be different. I know I'm just a country doctor but if this kid has spent time on the streets, you might not be able to work another miracle."

"I'm aware of that but I have to try. I'll show you out and I have a batch of cookies for you."

"Ms. Anderson, will you marry me?"

"I think Mrs. Adams may have an objection."

"That she would. Thank you for the cookies and good luck with the boy. Remember, call me anytime and be careful."

Claire took a deep breath as she gazed up the stairs. Hunter was safely ensconced in the guest room. John and Bobby had helped the boy to shower. Bobby gave Hunter a set of clean sweats to wear and Hunter had eaten two roast beef sandwiches and drank a quart of milk while they waited for the doctor to come. Hunter allowed Bobby to stay with him as the doctor did his examination and Bobby learned how to safely bind Hunter's ribs and dress his wounds. Before the doctor had left the room, Hunter was fast asleep with Bobby keeping vigil in the overstuffed chair just as Brian had done when the spawn were saved by Brian the previous year. Claire joined her son in the living room.

"What happens now?" John asked his mother, handing her a cup of tea.

"I'm not sure. I guess it's up to Hunter. I should call Ben and Michael. I'm sure they're sick with worry. Did Hunter say why he ran away or when?"

"No. He was so tired when we found him and he was about to be arrested for loitering. We just put him in the car and brought him home."

"Well, that was the best thing you could have done for him. We'll have to wait until he wakes up before we make any decisions. Jackie, I know it's not late but I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed. Wake me if there's a problem."

"I will. I'm going to lock up the house then go relieve Bobby. Bobby's been hovering around Hunter like a mother hen. You'd think Hunter was Bobby's son."

"Hmm. Goodnight, Jackie."

"Night, Mom." Mother and son shared a hug, Claire kissing her son's cheek then she retired for the night. John locked up and ascended the stairs.

"Bobby?" John whispered as he peered into the guest room.

"Mmm?"

"Come on, Baby, take a break. I'll stay with him while you get some sleep."

"I'm all right. I'll stay for a while."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Besides it's Friday night; we have no plans for this weekend."

"Okay. Try to get some sleep. You heard Doc Adams, Hunter will be okay."

"Yeah," Bobby whispered back as John shut the door. "I'm not so sure about that." Bobby mumbled to himself as he got up to tuck Hunter in then resettled himself into the chair. It was going to be a long night.



*****



Late the next morning Hunter woke with a start.

"Where am I?"

"You're safe, Hunter. You're at Claire's."

"Bobby?"

"It's me. Are you in pain? I can get you some Tylenol or Motrin."

"I'm okay; it only hurts when I breathe."

"Here, take these." Bobby handed the boy a couple of Motrin and a glass of water.

"Thanks. I guess I should get going. Where are my clothes?"

"They were filthy and covered in blood, so we threw them out. You are not going anywhere."

"You can't keep me here. That's kidnapping and I'm above the age of consent."

"I know that, I'm a lawyer, remember. In that case, you may want to rethink your travel plans. You're wearing my clothes so unless you want to run away again naked, I suggest you stay here and gratefully accept our hospitality."

"Fuck."

The two sat back staring at each other in silence for a while until Hunter spoke up.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I ran away?"

"Would you tell me the truth if I did?"

"Maybe," Hunter replied with a sigh, the tears were beginning to well up in his eyes.

"Do you have a dollar?"

"A what?"

"A dollar. You know … money."

"I know what a dollar is, asshole. Why do I need a dollar?"

"You need it so you can retain my services."

"Why?"

"If I am on retainer, anything you tell me will be held in the strictest of confidence. I won't be allowed to tell anyone what you say unless you give me the okay."

"I can tell you anything?"

"Yes."

"And you won't say a word?"

"Nope, nothing unless you tell me it's okay."

"My sneakers."

"What?"

"In my sneakers, I should have a buck in my sneaker."

Bobby fished out a crumpled dollar bill and handed it to Hunter. Hunter stared at it for a moment then handed it back to Bobby. Bobby pulled a sheet of paper and a pen from the desk and began to write.

"Hunter, what's your last name?"

"Novotny-Bruckner."

"Here, now sign," Bobby said as he handed the paper to Hunter.

"What am I signing?" Hunter asked as he suspiciously eyed the paper.

"It says that Robert Morrison, attorney-at-law is Hunter Novotny-Bruckner's lawyer. Now sign it and we're officially client and lawyer."

"Done," Hunter said signing his name and returning the contract back to Bobby.

"Okay, now tell me what the fuck in going on and convince me why I shouldn't call your parents who are probably going out of their minds by now."

Hunter gazed into Bobby's trusting eyes. As he opened his mouth to speak, the tears that had threatened to fall began to rain down. Bobby sat beside the boy and held on as Hunter began his tale. Bobby let the frightened boy have his cry and listened to the not unfamiliar story of Hunter's life before, during and after becoming a part of the Liberty Avenue family. And a part of Michael and Ben's lives. At the end of it, Hunter was exhausted, hungry, had to pee real bad and had used up a box of tissues. Bobby continued to hang on to the boy until he was all cried out.

"As your lawyer, I can do some research into schools that take kids with special needs or I can explore what home schooling entails or set you up with online courses. You won't get far without a high school diploma. As your friend, I suggest you go to the bathroom then come downstairs with me. You need food to help your injuries heal. John and Claire will want some sort of explanation and as a guest in their home you owe them that much. I'll stay with you each step of the way."

"You will?"

"Yes, I will." Mindful of Hunter's ribs, Bobby gave him a gentle hug of assurance.

"Okay, let's go. I really need to pee."

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