Cordelia sat nervously in the doctor's office, her eyes flickering between Beatrice's serious expression and Noah's file lying on the desk. Beatrice, with her usual composed vibe, peered over her glasses at her.
Beatrice adjusted her glasses, "Is Noah in contact with anyone at home, maybe slightly intimidating, a cousin? Uncle? Stepfather?" She asked.
Cordelia squinted trying to answer the question and to read her mind at the same time, "His uncle Julius," Cordelia began, her voice holding uncertainty. "They're not always together. Julius visits occasionally, but Noah tends to retreat to his room when he's around. He does that to everyone else."
Beatrice nodded, taking in the information. "I see," she murmured thoughtfully.
Cordelia hesitated, her mind racing as she considered the implications of Beatrice's question, "Why, tough? Did he mention anything?"
Beatrice shook her head in denial. "Look," she paused, "Noah has three cracked ribs, and his scan results show that he has previously broken ribs that may have gone untreated or improperly cared for. And it could seriously affect his health later in the future."
"Three cracked ribs?" Cordelia repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "And previous injuries that didn't heal properly?"
"Yeah, maybe he fell?" Beatrice attempted to reassure Cordelia, though her tone hinted at a huge doubt. She had a full idea of what might have transpired, but she chose to keep it sealed until Noah was awake and able to speak for himself. Perhaps Cordelia could be behind all of it, or maybe Noah simply didn't want her to know for important reasons. She recalled Noah mentioning that she "wasn't made for that," whatever that meant.
Cordelia's brow furrowed as she contemplated Beatrice's words. There was a lingering sense of unease, a feeling that there was more to Noah's injuries than she was told.
"Can I see him?" Cordelia asked anxiously.
"Not yet, he needs to undergo a rib fixation," Beatrice stated matter-of-factly.
"Is it that bad? I thought ribs usually heal on their own," Cordelia questioned.
"When his ribs were broken, he didn't seek medical help, which is why they healed in a deformed manner. It could puncture his lungs if he has a rough impact, like a fall," Beatrice explained.
Cordelia bit her lip. "Fine, I just want him to be okay, and pain-free," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "Please, Bea, he's all I have left."
Beatrice nodded sympathetically, understanding Cordelia's words.
*********
Noah woke up feeling disoriented, unable to fully grasp his surroundings. The effects of the medication left him feeling foggy, a sensation he was all too familiar with from his nightly routine of taking sleeping pills. Despite the haze, he recognized the necessity of the medication for his sleep, even if it meant waking up feeling disconnected from reality.
He stared down at the patterns of multiple dots on his gown, groaning as he tried to comprehend where his clothes had disappeared to. Scars on his arms caught his attention, each one telling its own story. One particular scar on his forearm brought back a vivid memory: the result of a brutal encounter with Avgustin. Noah remembered being shoved forcefully into a dry tree, feeling the rough branch scrape against his flesh like a blade, leaving a painful wound behind. Worst part, the yelling only intensified.
Noah sat up gently, feeling a surge of pain coursing through his nerves from seemingly nowhere. His surroundings came into focus: multiple tubes connected him to various machines, their blinking lights adding to the barrenness of the room. Noah exhaled lightly, then he began reaping the tubes one by one, feeling a sense of control return to his mind. But as he stood up, a wave of excruciating pain shot through his ribs, forcing him to quickly sit back down, groaning in discomfort.
Noah gently reached out to touch his ribs, only to feel the rough fabric of bandages covering the area. Confusion clouded his mind as he tried to recall any recent injuries, but he couldn't remember being stabbed on the side.
The door swung open, and Beatrice walked in with a file. Catching sight of what he had done, she raised a brow with a hint of disbelief. "Seriously?" She questioned, her tone punctuated with a slight hit of annoyance.
Noah rolled his eyes, unable to hold back his impatience. "There were too many tubes and I couldn't be comfortable. Can you just discharge me already?" he said crankily.
She clicked her teeth in annoyance. "After a rib surgery? No way," she retorted. Sitting across from him, she fixed him with a determined gaze. Noah never backed down, meeting her stare with a blank expression.
"What's going on?" she asked, her tone firm.
"I don't understand your question," Noah said innocently.
Beatrice rolled her eyes, "I checked with your mother—"
Noah shot up, cutting her off and ignoring the intense pain that overwhelmed his nerves. "I told you not to!" he practically yelled.
"Put your butt back on that bed young man." She ordered.
"You told her! That was the main reason I don't like being here!" Noah blurted before he began to feel lightheaded and had to sit. "Now she won't let me be, and she might be suffering again because of me. I hope you're happy and proud of yourself," Noah muttered the last words to himself while glaring at Beatrice.
Beatrice was not expecting such an outburst; this was the most emotion she had seen him display since he arrived. She resumed softly, "She said she had no idea who might be abusing you, but I see it right there." She stared into his eyes, "You're being physically abused. And with the amount of scars, it must have been happening for quite some time now. That's why you felt insecure about taking off your shirt, scared we might get the police involved and you didn't want your mother finding out," she explained, pausing to gauge Noah's reaction. His gaze wouldn't meet hers. "I'll have no other choice but to call the police and tell Cordelia if you don't speak up." She threatened smoothly hoping his walls would come crumbling.
Noah's voice emerged from the haze of resignation. "I was away for a year, my mother knows, in a boot camp," he murmured, the memories of his time in the facility surfacing like ghostly echoes. Then he paused, a dry chuckle escaping his lips. "For rehabilitation," he added.
Beatrice felt a pang of empathy tug at her chest as she listened to him, "You should tell her. Any institution that does what they did to you should be on lockdown," she responded, her voice soft and almost caring.
Her gaze dropped to his wrists, her eyes narrowing slightly as she noted the faint marks that hinted at her suspicions on his mental health.
"Besides, it's not a big deal, some scars fade away," Noah remarked dismissively, but his expression betrayed his words.
"Some don't," Beatrice countered gently, her voice soft but composed. "The mental scars, the damage, they never go away without treatment."
Noah glanced up at her, his expression guarded. "I don't think it's necessary," he replied nonchalantly.
Beatrice frowned deeply, "Really look at those scars on your wrists, I can assure you that they're self-inflicted," she stated bluntly, her words cutting through the air with a slight glare. "You know what I mean." She continued gazing at the youngster, "You need help," she continued, her tone unwavering. "Just like your ribs, some things need to be repaired."
Noah glanced at his wrists swallowing hard, "You must not tell my mother. I will, sometime in the future." Noah insisted, brushing her previous comment like she never mentioned it.
"I can't, you literally had a panic attack yesterday. You could've gotten seriously hurt." She expressed.
Noah blinked multiple times before staring right into her, "I understand that this is part of your profession, but you don't have to act like you care so much." Noah stated.
Beatrice stood up, her expression unreadable. "You still owe me those shots," she remarked lightly, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.
Noah ignored her comment, his mind consumed with thoughts of how to approach Cordelia about his struggles. Despite his reluctance to seek help, he knew deep down that he couldn't continue to ignore the issues he faced. His life was a mess but he tries so hard to put up a good show in front of Cordelia, she is the only one that matters now.
A/N
What do you think about Noah? And Beatrice?