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“Shall we go wait for them?”
Carter wraps his arms around himself, looking down at his feet. “What should I do?”
Nathan fiddles with his watch, the weight of the world settling on his chest and getting heavier when Carter lifts his eyes to look at him. There's so much desperation in the look. He needs Nathan to tell him what to do. Not quite to be his sir, but close.
This is a decision Nathan doesn't want to fucking make. There are so many factors. So many angles. So many points of view.
Too many points of view.
“Who do you want making that decision for you?” Nathan asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Travis, Nathan, or sir?”
Carter shifts. “They’d – they’d be different?”
“Yes. Travis is pretty much drowning in guilt, so he's going to do what makes you happy. Nathan is the guy in charge of keeping this operation safe. And sir wants what he thinks is best for you."
The boy fiddles with the sleeves of his sweater, the arms so long he has a hand's worth of fabric on each side. He looks so small, standing there drowning in Nathan's sweater, looking afraid and worried.
“Who – who is keeping what’s best forCaseyin mind?” he asks, not looking at Nathan.
That catches Nathan off guard, but not for long. “Benny, I suppose.”
“And he said I shouldn’t…”
“Yes.”
Carter nods, a short, sharp jerk of his head. Then he turns and walks away. Nathan follows, his chest aching when he sees Carter crawling back in bed. The boy curls up into a ball beneath the covers, his moose tucked under his chin. His voice wobbles as he says, "I'll just wait here, then…"
***
Nathan waits for Benny with the door to their private entrance propped open, guilt building in his chest with every minute that passes. He can just picture Carter lying in the bed all alone, trying to be patient. Nathan is unbelievably proud of Carter for the decision he made - and he truly believes it was the right one to make - but he still feels fucking awful.
A black SUV with tinted windows pulls up to the edge of the front lot, barely visible from where Nathan is standing. A minute later, a figure is walking towards Nathan carrying something large in his arms. Nathan pushes the door open wider and steps aside. The figure pauses just a few feet away, his face cast in shadows. The blanket wrapped around the boy in his arms is starting to fall.
“Just us?” Benny asks, his eyes darting over Nathan’s shoulder.
“Just us.”
“Didn’t think you had it in you.”
Nathan shrugs. “I didn’t. His decision.”
“Huh. Well, good." Benny looks down at the boy in his arms, a flurry of emotions making their way across his face. "Help me get him inside?"
“Of course." Nathan walks down the dimly lit hall, Benny following. He can hear his friend whispering as they go, the words too hushed to make out. Casey's only response seems to be a whimper.
When they reach the door that leads to Benny's, Nathan is relieved. Helping Benny get things set up will be a nice brain break from Carter. As nice of a brain break as something like helping get an abused, close-to-death slave settled can be, of course.
The first thing Nathan does is pull the blankets back on Benny's bed, leaving an opening for him to place the boy down.
“You’re alright, little one. I’ve got you,” Benny tells Casey as he starts to cry. “You’re okay. We aren’t going to hurt you.”
Casey looks caught between panic and exhaustion, his eyes heavy-lidded as his chest heaves and his muscles jerk. "Please," he rasps. "Please no. Not yet."
“Hey, shhh. We aren’t doing anything to you, okay? Just getting you in bed so you can rest.”
