Cops' Kids

C1

"Remember," Warren sternly looks at his two younger brothers. Tyson rolls his eyes, knowing what is coming but Colin waits expectantly for his oldest brother to finish speaking. "We were jumped, didn't get a good look and we don't wanna press charges."

"Okay," Colin agrees readily. Tyson snorts, folding away flyaways that escaped from his long braided back cornrows.

"We saw who did it," Tyson mutters bitterly and crosses his arms. He flinches from some pain he feels in his body and glares at Warren when his brother shoots him a look of concern. "Every damn time."

Colin takes a step back, fading himself into the background. It's a habit the fourteen year old boy learned at a young age. Life had been good to them until their heroic father had passed away, heroically helping a stranger in need. Life had been good for a while after that, although filled with grief from the loss. It was when their mom married Elmer that shit hit the fan. Inheriting two brothers was fun, especially because Colin was no longer the baby of the family. It was fun until they all realized Benjamin was sneaky and cowardly and blamed them for his wrongdoings that angered Elmer. But even Benjamin protected Ross like they did, and when Isaiah and Jeremiah came along, protected them too. But because Warren, Tyson and Colin were only his step brothers, he didn't care for them as much. Benjamin defined his family by blood.

"Warren Lawrence?" A middle aged man swooshes open the curtain hiding the three teenagers from the rest of the hospital. He doesn't blink when he sees the other two boys, that is, until he notices the bruising on Colin's face and the way Tyson holds his left arm close to his body, defiance written in his eyes.

"That's me," the oldest brother speaks up, offering a little wave. It's how Dr. Delluci notices his finger bent at an awkward angle. As if someone had grabbed it and bent it so far backwards the joint popped out of place.

"Wanna tell me a little more about what happened?" Dr. Delluci asks in a polite yet genuine voice as he flips through the very sparse, yet lengthy, file. If the name on the paper was right, young Mr. Warren Lawrence has suffered various broken bones and multiple lacerations and swellings. With a saddened heart, Dr. Delluci knew what happened immediately. The young man lived in an abusive environment.

"Me and my brothers were jumped," Warren states in a firm voice, not expecting the disbelief from the doctor or the challenge in his words.

"Multiple times a year, every year?" Dr. Delluci raises an undaunted eyebrow. Tyson chuckles bitterly as Warren coughs in surprise. Colin all but disappears into the wall. "If you don't want the doctor noticing the reoccurring abuse, you should come in as John Does. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't report this to the police?"

"'Cause he is the police," Tyson laughs caustically. Warren shoots him a look to shut up. The doctor lowers the file to look at the teenagers.

"I see," is all he says before setting Warren's finger, stitching Colin's facial laceration and wrapping Tyson's ribs. The boys are silent during the medical attention, already understanding that people don't get involved in cases like this: cases where the bad guy facades as the good guy and hides it well enough to dash hopes of help.

"I have two things to say," Dr. Delluci holds up his pointer and middle finger of his left hand. "Please do not interrupt." All three boys nod stoically, expecting bad news about the state their developing bodies are in. "One: I am filing an official report. Your previous medical histories are sufficient enough to prove long term domestic abuse." Warren shakes his head in denial while Colin's eyes fill with unfiltered hope and Tyson laughs in disbelief. "Second," Dr. Delluci raises his voice to get his point across. Then he pulls out a business card and holds it out to the oldest brother. "The enemy of your enemy is your friend." He shakes the white card in his hand but Warren makes no move to take it. Tyson snatches it with a scowl, left wondering what the good doctor meant with his phrase.

"What's it say?" Colin asks, his voice is shaky but hope is burning in his eyes. Warren stands up, throwing his light jacket on over his t-shirt, not wanting to put hope in anything. He'd asked for help, begged on his knees but everyone turned their back. He wasn't relying on anyone to help them out of their horrible situation, he'd do it himself, even if it took years.

"Erik Fanucci, Real Estate Agent." Tyson reads off, moving to throw the card in the trash. Colin's shoulders deflate, despair floating in his light green orbs. With a quick second thought, Tyson pockets the card. Something in the doctors eye had let on more than he had said.