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Dr. Deacon frowns. “The blood draw isn’t just for this. It’s for a lot of things. We need to make sure your levels are steady. We also need to assess if you contracted any sort of infections.”
The panic from before triples. “Infections?”
“Yes.” Dr. Deacon pulls out a clipboard. Carter wonders why he’s using paper instead of technology - if it’s an old-school doctor thing or just easier to keep things private considering the whole top-secret thing the operation has going on. The man reads a piece of paper before explaining, “Travis made sure his men were tested often in the house, as well as the survivors under his care. He also made sure Todd Henley was tested before he allowed him to… interact with you. But the party on the final night of the operation was less controlled. The men who… interacted with you on stage were not tested.”
Carter can’t decide if he wants to burst into laughter at the use of the word interact to describe his assaults, or if he wants to burst into tears as he realizes he might have something in his system that could do damage to him despite how he’s supposed to be safe now.
“If you contracted anything, we’ll handle it, Carter,” the doctor says softly, clearly picking up on Carter’s emotions.
“What if it’s something that can’t be handled? What if I have fucking – fucking HIV or something now?”
“Unfortunately, that won’t appear in your results yet, but I highly doubt you need to worry. Men these days are rather careful with that. Contracting HIV orally is also much harder than anally. And, of course, you were given two PrEP injections during your time in captivity, so that helps. We’re going to give you a drug cocktail no matter what though, even if all of your results come back normal tonight. Just in case we need to battle anything that isn’t able to appear in your results yet. And we’ll test you again in 90 days. Or you’ll need to test yourself if you’re no longer with us then.”
Carter blinks at the man. “I was given PrEP injections?”
“Of course. It’s standard practice these days before slaves are sold. You were given an injection the day of the auction. Travis was provided proof of it when he bought you.”
Carter doesn’t remember that. Then again, he doesn’t remember a lot of that day - on purpose, mostly.
“And when was I given the second one?” Carter asks, knowing logically it had to have been when he was with Travis.
“Mmm.” The man scans the document. “Looks like just under a month ago. Would you like the date?”
No. The date will be meaningless.
He wants to know when the fuck Travis secretly injected him with a drug.
And if he ever did it any other time.
“Can we get this over with?” Carter asks instead.
The doctor frowns. “You know what? Let’s do the blood draw at the end. I have a feeling you’ll be done with me after that.”
“Sure,” Carter says, his voice sounding wooden to his own ears. “Fine.”
“I’d prefer to do a full exam to check on you, but I leave that up to the survivors. Operatives don’t get to pout about it, but I figure you and the others like you have earned the right to. Would you be comfortable with me performing a full exam or would you rather us just talk through things and see what comes up?”
Carter crosses his legs like he can somehow protect himself further by doing it. “We can just talk.”
“Of course.” Dr. Deacon smiles, not looking upset in the least. It helps Carter feel a tiny bit better. Emphasis on tiny bit. “Some of this is going to be sensitive. Just tell me if you don’t want to talk about it or if you’d prefer to maybe come back to the topic. This is controlled by you. I’m here to help you. Okay?”
“Yeah,” Carter whispers, wondering if that philosophy can be used for the needles later too. “Okay.”
“Do you have any cuts that haven’t healed yet?”
“No.”
“Did any cuts heal improperly?”
Carter frowns. “Improperly?”
“In a way that’s causing discomfort. The scar tissue, usually. Sometimes there can be soreness. Pinching. Burning. Anything like that?”
“No.” Carter fidgets on the doctor’s table, feeling something strange in his stomach. “I don’t think I have any scars, actually…”
Dr. Deacon nods slowly. “Does that make you feel guilty?”
Carter flinches before saying rather defensively, “No.”
