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She hadn’t known Mr. Fox’s first name before, probably because even though he was cool, he tried his best to be professional with the students. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t their friend. Gunnar. Sounded like a viking. That fit, with his blond hair and blue eyes and his sharp features, that real life Thor thing he had going on.

“Yeah, sorry. Mr. Fox. So I’m going to take a look and get you cleaned up. You tell me if anything hurts. I know you must be a brave girl, but you don’t have to be brave with me. I’m here to take care of you and I can’t do that if you don’t tell me the truth. So no being tough, okay?”

“‘Kay.”

Dr. Eric smiled and it made her feel all warm inside. Twyla liked Dr. Eric. Liked how he talked to her. She also liked how Mr. Fox was sitting behind her, giving her something to lean on while Dr. Eric looked her over. If she didn’t feel so shitty, she’d probably feel pretty good.

It took a while for Dr. Eric to do his exam and to clean her up. The disinfectant he used to clean her cuts stung a lot and she tried to bite her lip and keep it to herself, but biting her lip hurt too and she was tired and even being cuddled by Mr. Fox was painful.

“I know it hurts, Twyla. I’m sorry. But it will help you not get an infection and heal better. It’s okay to cry if you need to though. No being tough, remember?”

She nodded a tiny bit and let the tears slip down her cheeks. She hated crying. Had learned a long time ago that crying didn’t get her anything except more of her mom’s screaming, or probably another slap from her step-father. But Dr. Eric actually seemed to feel bad that he was hurting her, tried to be so gentle, and Mr. Fox was saying nice soothing things in her ear.

“We need to take off your shirt and your skirt to finish the exam. Do you want Mr. Fox to leave?”

The idea of him leaving her alone, even with a nice man like Dr. Eric was too frightening, and she grabbed Mr. Fox’s hand and held on while she shook her head even though it hurt.

“No. Please don’t make him go. I can’t—I don’t—”

Mr. Fox hushed her and stroked her arm. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere if you don’t want me to, promise. Eric just wanted to make sure you were okay with me being here for the rest of the exam, that’s all. I have to move so he can finish up, but I’ll be right here.”

Dr. Eric rolled a stool over next to the padded table and Mr. Fox slid down from behind her to stand next to it.

“Do you need help with your clothes or can you do it?”

His blue eyes were warm somehow and normally she’d refuse. She didn’t need any help. She could do it, whatever it was. But her hands hurt from being kicked and they felt stiff so she’d struggle and she hated to look weak and stupid. She sniffed with frustration.

“I need help.”

Mr. Fox brushed a thumb over her unbruised cheek and the way he looked at her…

“Everyone needs help sometimes, sweetheart. And you’ve been through more than most. It’s my privilege to help you.”

Okay, he was going to carve her heart out from her ribcage and hold it in his palms and that was fine. Yeah, totally fine. Except not fine at all.

She had to grind her teeth together to keep from saying something mean and rude and terrible. She didn’t know what to do when people said nice things to her and running wasn’t an option right now so the painful clench of her jaw would have to do.

Mr. Fox came in front of her and undid the tie of her shirt, unbuttoned it and slid the sleeves off her arms, being so, so careful. It still hurt, but he was trying so hard. And then he helped her lay back on the table and undid the button and zipper on her skirt, slid the tiny bit of denim over her hips and down her legs and then sat by her side while Dr. Eric continued his exam. The poking and prodding and cleaning of her injuries hurt but it was bearable. So much more bearable than those guys hurting her on purpose.

“On your tummy, please.”

Mr Fox helped her turn over onto her stomach and she heard someone suck a breath through their teeth. Dr. Eric? Mr. Fox? She didn’t know. Didn’t matter.

The men talked in hushed tones for a few minutes and then there was a hand lightly resting on her shoulder blade.

Then Dr. Eric said, “I’m going to take your temperature now, Twyla, so I’m going to pull down your panties.”

“Wha…?”

She tried to push up on her elbows but the hand on her back held her down.

“Can’t you take it some other way?” she whined.

“No. This is the most accurate way to take a little girl’s temperature.”

She heard Mr. Fox hiss something she couldn’t understand at Dr. Eric. Twyla knew she could argue, fight them, and they wouldn’t hurt her, but it would be easier to trust them and she was so tired and sore and now someone was stroking her back and it felt really good.

“Okay,” she mumbled, and then her underwear were being pulled over her hips and nestled just under her butt cheeks.

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