885 Days [A Vikklan/Sidemen/Pack Story]

Thirty Days Home

22 September 2017

We were almost able to mark one month since that amazing, painful, joyful, awful day that Lachlan was finally found. Since he came to us broken and scared, scarred and starved, sexually assaulted and tortured for over two years. Saying it out loud was still surreal, but the fact that he was lying in my arms, head resting in the crook of my shoulder, cemented the fact that he really was home. He was here, alive, with me.

Even though it hadn't even been two weeks since Lachlan started eating, he was gaining some weight. He was up to 49kgs, a one kilogram weight gain in only that long was something of a miracle considering how long he had refused to eat anything. It wasn't much but it was certainly something. An improvement that we had long been waiting for. Slowly, we were beginning to see something that indicated he was recovering.

And, even better than that, Lachlan had been standing. Not walking, just standing, but his muscles were strong enough to keep him on his feet with my hands around his waist to keep him upright. He had surprised himself with that, I think, given the look on his face. The exertion had exhausted him though because he fell asleep in my arms right afterwards, giving the doctor time to update us on the case of the man who had done this to him.

"His name is George Taylor, he's 54 years old. Divorced, two kids that he never sees. Decent job. Before this, he was a completely normal guy living in a completely normal neighbourhood." He sighed. "The evidence in his house has been taken, photographs... objects. I've seen the photos and it's... it's absolutely disgusting. What he suffered through, I'm surprised he's recovering as well as he is." Preston grimaced.

"Do the police what to talk again?"

"Yes. He's currently in jail and will be until the trial and although the photos should speak for themselves, they want him to testify. As a vulnerable witness it would likely be through a camera, but only if he consents to doing so. If he doesn't Taylor may not get the maximum sentence and may get out before the end of his life. There's also plea deals but that isn't important now as they are still in the evidence gathering and sorting phase. He likely won't plead guilty, he has shown absolutely no remorse for his actions."

I growled under my breath- of course he hadn't. He didn't seem like the type of person to beg for forgiveness. Lachlan slept on, oblivious to everyone talking around him, tucked right into my side with his thumb almost in his mouth. The other boys, all of the members of the Pack, watched in silence. I don't think any of them could think of anything to say.

"I understand that you never want to expose him to that man again, you don't want to traumatise him by forcing him to testify, but the main concern for the police is getting that man locked up and never released. For that to happen, if he pleads not guilty, it would be best for Lachlan to testify."

"We're gonna... we'll have to talk to him first." I finally whispered, sighing deeply. "I don't know if he'll want to or be able to do it. I'm just going to hope he pleads guilty."

"I hope so too, but I doubt he will." He gave us a sad smile, looking around us as a group. "We just want what is best for Lachlan, know that. I will never do anything that will put him in harms way. We only want to get him healed and help him get back home, and to do that we have to get him locked up. Then we move on."

I looked down at Lachlan, asleep, peaceful for once. I hated that man. I hated what he had done to my best friend, what he had forced him through as a 19-year-old, scared, alone and broken. I hated him, I hated him, I hated him. I didn't want Lachlan to see him again if he didn't have to, but somehow I was beginning to believe I didn't have a choice in the matter.

---------------------------------------------------

The doctor's very early description of being paralysed without the paralysis was pretty accurate. Due to the muscle wastage he couldn't walk, stand or even sit up on his own, a description that seemed similar to a quadriplegic, only he could still feel everything. He was able to wiggle his toes, lift his arms and turn his head, but that was about it.

Rob sat behind Lachlan, helping him sit up, as I moved his legs so they were hanging off the edge of the bed. The doctor supervised to make sure Lachlan was injured but due to his aversion to be touched by anyone but me, and now Rob and Mitch, he didn't help.

"Can you stand up Lachy?" I said, gently, not wanting to push him if he felt he couldn't do it. He nodded slowly but he still needed help scooting to the edge of the bed until his feet touched the floor.

With two pairs of arms around his waist, Lachlan was able to very shakily stand. His entire body trembled with the effort and his face was pale, entirely relying on Rob and I to keep him upright, but he wasn't lying down anymore. He gasped, inhaling sharply, as he tried to lift his leg to take a step.

"Don't push yourself, it's okay, don't hurt yourself." I said, stopping him. "Here."

Hooking my leg behind his I pulled it forward, allowing him to lean onto it. I did it again with the other leg, moving him forwards again. Rob continued to hold him tight, the doctor continued watch, ready to leap forward in case Lachlan fell. I hooked his leg, he stepped again.

"That's it, that's it!" I said happily, helping him return to the bed. He sighed, already exhausted. His eyes flickered. "That was really good Lachy."

Rob and I shared a smile as the doctor wrote something down. Lachlan was already drifting off to sleep so I sat down beside him and pulled his head into my lap, running a hand through his hair. His lips pulled up into a brief smile.

It was moments like these that, while they came few and far between, gave me hope that he might be okay. He was eating, walking and talking, he was gaining weight and was more receptive to having others around him even if it only were people he knew before.

It had almost been a month. A whole month of having the younger boy, my best friend, back in my life.