Chapter Two

~ Xander ~

The wedding was beautiful. He'd met the two grooms before, but it wasn't until he moved back to the ranch that they became friends. William was the young Interior Design graduate with a heart of fucking gold, in Xander's opinion. He had created and designed the entire idea for Found Family Ranch. A refuge for individuals that needed a place to stay. He designed each of the tiny houses that were quickly booked as soon as they officially opened. He hadn't been around much for the building process but his older brother, Patrick, kept him in the loop. It was only a few months ago that he moved back to stay in the guest house when Brett and Wylon found their own place just inside city limits. It was easier for Wylon to commute to work since Brett wasn't on any set schedule with helping to run the FFR.

Clark stood by the makeshift altar. It was really just a small wooden stage, a few feet long, that they'd had for years. Tracy had outdone herself with the decorations and timing of the ceremony. Even outside, the flower arch and the white runner down the aisle were beautiful. The land around them was cast in a warm glow of light from the setting sun. They held most events in this field for that reason alone. The sun set just over the second pasture of the ranch. Their friend Gabe's little girl was walking down the aisle, throwing red rose petals on the runner, smiling, and twirling in her dress at all the attention.

The field was set off the side of the main house and road leading into the ranch, but not far enough that Xander missed the truck speeding down, kicking up a cloud of dust behind it. Xander turned his head toward his brother with a questioning look. He mirrored the same expression, letting Xander know that this wasn't a planned guest.

"I'll handle it," he whispered and stood from his chair in the back row. He knew all eyes were on him as he started to jog across the field. He passed William and a few of his friends standing behind a white sheet that had been erected to ‘hide' him, waiting for Tracy's call to start walking down. He only stopped long enough to tell William that whatever was going on, don't worry about it and enjoy his wedding day. He looked amazing in the matching white tux his almost-husband was also wearing. Xander told him so and then continued back toward the house.

He picked up the pace when he realized the truck would make it to the house before he would. The field was several acres, but the wedding was closer to the house so guests didn't have to walk through the grass and they didn't have to use the four wheelers or horses to get to and from. He thanked his training regimen and growing up on the ranch that he wasn't winded by the time he made it. But then his stomach nearly emptied itself when he saw the scene before him. An older man, untidy at best and a definitive beer gut, was pulling a young man out of the passenger door. The kid, couldn't have been older than twenty, crumpled to the ground and curled in on himself. As Xander rounded the hood, he stopped short in his tracks and looked from the kid to the man.

"… -aggot living in my house. I want him fixed. Fix him!" The man pulled out his wallet and threw money on the ground at Xander's feet. He didn't know what was going on but was starting to piece it together. The man's foot connected with the kid's lower back and Xander watched his face scrunch in pain and he bit his lower lip. "That should cover the cost of whatever this camp charges."

"We'll take care of him," Patrick's voice said beside him. Xander wasn't sure when he started following him, but he was glad his older brother was there. The man was huffing, like he was out of breath from the obvious beating he'd just given the kid. Patrick's voice held some sort of emotion that Xander had never heard before. His brother was the kindest soul on earth, but right now his words were sharp, like he understood what this man was saying and was agreeing.

Had he heard the words the guy said just before? Or could he not see the state the kid was in? "X, take the kid and get him into the house. We'll deal with him in a moment."

"Good luck with him," the man grunted. "And watch him around your phones. He likes to watch disgusting videos."

Xander didn't move an inch as the guy backed his truck up and sprayed gravel as he spun out and back up the dirt road. The kid was still curled, laying way too still for his liking.

"Get him inside somewhere and check him over," Patrick said. His voice was the usual full of concern and kindness again. "I'm pretty sure the entire wedding has halted. I'm going to go back. I trust that you can handle him for a couple of hours. If he needs the hospital, call me."

"I've got him," Xander said. His brain switched from stunned to work mode. He worked as an EMT for years in the city, filling in at the local ER from time-to-time. He knew what to check for, how to carry a patient. "I'm taking him to the guest house. It's closer. I'll text you."

"Once we find out who that piece of shit is, we're sending Raegan after his ass."

"We should just let him in the pasture with the longhorns," Xander muttered. Yeah, he was in the business of saving people, but some people didn't deserve it. He moved to the kid and laid a hand on his shoulder as gently as he could. He had gravel in his hair now, mixed with clumps of dirt. His nose was bleeding and there was a cut just above his left eye.

"Please don't," the kid said quietly. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, but he kept his eyes screwed shut. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"You're safe," Xander whispered. "No one is going to hurt you here, sweetheart."

The term of endearment came naturally as Xander brushed the hair from the kid's face. He needed to assess him, see if there was any damage deeper than the skin. He was beat bad, that much was clear. His shoulder was hot to the touch, even through his clothes. It was swelling for sure.

"I need you to open your eyes for me," he whispered. He tried to keep his voice low and calm. His hands were shaking with rage. "I need to make sure you don't need a hospital. Can you open your eyes?"

"I'm sorry," he whimpered again. "I just want to go to sleep."

"I can't have that," Xander said. The last thing he needed to do was go to sleep right now. If he did, Xander would be calling an ambulance. "Please, gorgeous, open your eyes for me."

Under the dirt and red handprint on his cheek, Xander noted that the kid had a soft jawline but prominent cheekbones. His nose was a bit pointed on the tip, sloped evenly from his eyes. The perfect size for his face. It took another long minute before the kid finally opened his eyes. As much as he could, anyway. That cut, like his shoulder, was starting to swell. His good eye, though, was the color of liquid honey. Probably brown, but the still setting sun was hitting them.

"There you go." Xander smiled. He brushed more pieces of gravel and dirt from the guy's face. "You're going to be okay. I'm not going to hurt you. Can you sit up?"

"It hurts." Fresh tears started falling down his cheeks. Xander let his knees hit the ground beside him, getting to work on checking him over. He lifted his shirt just enough to see a fresh bruise forming on his ribs, also on his left side. It looked bad, but he would have to examine him closer to see if he had any broken ribs. He wanted to get him inside first.

"Can I carry you?" Xander asked. "I want to take you inside, but you can walk if you think you're able to."

The kid didn't answer. His eyes were closed again and his arms were still curled around his stomach, hands clenched into fists. Xander repeated the question and waited. He'd give him a few more seconds before he would make the choice for him. He looked around, noting that the wedding party, including the two grooms, were looking their way. Without the truck there, he was sure all they could see was Xander kneeling next to someone lying on the ground. He wasn't sure what Patrick told them.

"I'm going to pick you up now. I promise, you're not in trouble and I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to get you inside." Xander continued to whisper easy words as he stood up and bent to scoop the kid into his arms. He wasn't a small kid, but it wasn't much of a struggle to pick him up and carry him bridal style the few yards to where he was living. The guest house was just one floor, where the bathroom with the shower in the main house was up a flight of stairs.

Xander was grateful that he hadn't locked the door. He knew and trusted everyone at the wedding today so he didn't see the need for it. The kid shook in his arms the whole walk to the door and inside. Xander moved to the bedroom, not sure where else to go or exactly what he was doing. His training was telling him that he should give the kid a good once over, check his vitals, ensure there was no possible internal bleeding or broken ribs. But the other side of his brain was just blind rage.

How could anyone do this to another human.

"Please," the kid said as he opened his eyes. He started to struggle a bit and Xander had to tighten his grip to keep from dropping him. "No, please. I'm sorry. Don't take me to the bathroom again. I'm sorry. Dad, please."

Xander could feel tears on his own cheeks as the kid fought him but he didn't let him go. He thought he was back home and Xander didn't want him running around blindly. Not when he was hurt this bad. He tried to console him, to get him to calm down, but it wasn't working. His chest was rising and falling fast, air wheezing out of his lungs. That wasn't a good sign. He was either going into shock or having a panic attack. He finally made it to the bedroom and laid him down on the bed. Quickly, he ran to his closet and grabbed his medical bag. Out of habit, he kept one on hand. It worked for living on a ranch. He pulled the generic inhaler out and moved back to the bed.

He knelt down beside it, the kid immediately rolling away onto his right side. His back to Xander. "Darlin', I need you to look at me. I promise, no one is going to hurt you again. I'll make sure of it."

There was no response from the kid. Xander didn't want to leave him alone. He really wanted to check him over, to know the full extent of what they were dealing with. He wasn't going to make him do anything he didn't want to. That would just leave scars on the inside.

"I'm going to leave this on the bedside table," Xander said. "There's a shower behind you, towels, and everything you need in there. I'll lay out a shirt for you and see if I can find some pants that will fit. I'll leave water and a sandwich out on the kitchen counter too if you get hungry. Do you need anything else?"

Xander waited for a few seconds. He stood up and started to move toward his dresser. The room wasn't much. A king size bed with a gray comforter and three plain pillows. The bed frame and dresser were a matching distressed wood color. A mirror sat on top of the dresser, large enough that Xander could see the kid roll over while he grabbed a shirt. He saw his face for the briefest of moments before the kid buried his head into the pillows again. Xander could hear the sniffling and choked sobs.

He watched him for a few more seconds, debating if he should pull the cover over him. The bed wasn't made, he rarely made it in the last few months of living back on the ranch. There was no reason to when he was the only one sleeping in it. He'd have to wash the blanket and sheets soon, sure that there would be dirt and gravel.

"I'm sorry." The voice was low and Xander turned from the door, his hand on the handle to give him privacy. "I didn't mean to do it. I want to change. I'll do whatever you want me to."

Xander wasn't sure what he was talking about. Did he still think he was his dad? Or was he trying to say something else? Xander dropped his hand from the knob and moved slowly back to the bed. At least the kid was talking. That had to be a good sign, even if he didn't understand it.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Xander said. He sat at the foot of the bed, away from where he was lying. His back was turned to him, but he noted he looked a little more relaxed. Hopefully, at least. "We just want to make sure you're okay."

"I deserved it," the kid said. His voice was wavering, like talking was causing him pain. "I- I shouldn't have been watching those videos. They're wrong. I'm sorry."

"Hey, hey. It's okay." Xander didn't know what to do. He reached a hand out and gently brushed his finger against the kid's ankle. He was wearing an old pair of shoes that looked a size too small and shorts that had a hole beside the pocket. "Can you look at me?"

The kid jerked his leg away and then cried out in pain at the sudden movement. Xander was up on his feet immediately. His hands were hovering, unsure of where to look or what to do. He moved to the other side of the bed so he could see the kid's face. More tears were pooling in his eyes. His bottom lip was bitten raw. The handprint on his cheek was more prominent in the bedroom lighting.

"I need to look at you," Xander said. He tried to keep his voice calm and soothing, but he wasn't going to take no for an answer anymore. He had to see. His medical brain was reeling with all the possibilities of what could be going on. "Please, darlin'. Let me just see what that asshole did to you."

He knew using words like that probably wasn't best for the situation at hand, but he had no other name for the man that did this. Actually, he had a lot but they all got increasingly worse.

The kid rolled to his back, his face wincing with pain. The cut on his eye was beading with fresh blood but his nose had stopped. He looked so small and helpless in the large bed. Xander had the urge to forego examining him to just hold him and protect him for a while. Shield him from everything. He'd seen so many trauma and abuse cases in the Emergency Room and on calls, but something about this kid was pulling at him. Maybe it was seeing the abuse firsthand, the way the man so easily discarded him. No one should feel like they were worthless.

"Can I touch you?" Xander asked. "Just on your arms and chest. I want to make sure you're okay." The kid moved his head to face away, but there was a small nod. Xander moved slowly, giving the kid plenty of time to change his mind. He decided to talk, to hopefully keep the kid distracted. "My name is Alexander. Everyone calls me Xander, or X, for short. My brother, Patrick, and his wife Tracy, own this ranch. They're great people."

"Are they going to hurt me too?" The kid winced as Xander's fingers prodded on his right side. He knew he had a large bruise on his left side. He lifted his shirt and noted a red splotchy patch just above his hip. Probably hit it on something or got hit. As bad as it looked, he was grateful it didn't seem like anything deep.

"No," Xander said quickly. "No one is going to hurt you here. I promise you that."

"I've heard stories," the kid said. Xander needed to stop thinking of him as ‘the kid'. He was a little on the smaller side but had to be over eighteen. "Of places like this. You can't promise I won't be hurt."

Xander lifted his shirt more, bunching it up around his armpits. He'd prefer to take it off completely but wasn't sure if that would be beneficial enough for the pain it would cause him. The bruise he'd seen earlier was the worst of his injuries. That he saw at least. It spread from his sternum, diagonally down and wrapped around toward his back. Xander saw red when he realized it was in the perfect shape of a boot print.

His words finally sank in and Xander let his hands fall to his own lap. The kid's eyes were closed and his head was tilted away from Xander. His hands were balled into fists, his knees bent slightly. "This is not a conversion camp, sweetheart. It's a refuge for the gay community." It was for the whole LGBTQ+ community, but Xander was keeping his explanation simple right now.

"And I'm Leonardo DiCaprio." The kid said it so dejectedly, Xander couldn't even find the joke funny. "My dad would never drop me off at a refuge. He was screaming the whole way here about conversion and fixing me. I didn't catch it all, but I've read the stories. I know what these places are."

"And I'm telling you that this isn't that place," Xander said. He lowered his shirt back down over his stomach and reached up to brush the hair out of his face. The kid finally turned slightly to look at him. His face was battered, but he held Xander's eyes. Xander brushed his fingers just above the cut over his eye. The kid's eyes fluttered closed for a second before opening back up when Xander pulled his hand away. "You are safe here. If it helps, I'm gay. I had a boyfriend in the city for a couple years before we broke up. There is a wedding going on outside for two men as well. One of them is the guy that founded the Found Family Ranch. I don't know how your dad found this place or why he thought it would be a camp, but I can assure you we are far from it. We've been helping kids and adults alike to get back on their feet after leaving families or whatever situations."

The room fell silent again. The kid closed his eyes, but kept his face turned toward Xander. He smiled, grateful that he might actually be believing him now. Knowing that he was in a safe place would be important to keep him calm. "I hate to ask this," Xander started. He waited until his eyes were open again. They were light brown, still hints of that honey color in them. The one that was swollen was red and looked like it hurt bad. "But can you tell me if there was anything, any damage or hits, done below your waist?"

Xander didn't want to think of this kid going through anything like that, but it wasn't unheard of. He'd seen his dad kick him against his lower back and he wanted to check that out too. That was a sensitive area to receive any form of trauma.

"No." His voice was low again, void of any emotion. "He kept everything to hitting and kicking."

Xander bit his tongue to keep from saying out loud what he was thinking. He was relieved, but the damage was still uncalled for in any situation. "Can you either sit up or roll over and let me see your back? I know you're hurting, but I want to help you."

"Can I take a shower?"

"Are you going to be able to stand up on your own?" Xander was genuinely worried about him falling in the shower. He didn't have a tub and there was just a tiny bench in the shower that didn't really get much water spray to it. Neither of them spoke and Xander was sure the kid was trying to figure out if he could actually stand or not. Xander saw the way he'd immediately crumpled when he was pulled out of the truck. And those bruises and his shoulder wouldn't be much better for weeks. He stood up and reached his hand out. "I'll help you up and we'll go from there, okay? I can help you get undressed at least."

"Um, I can do that." The kid took his hand with his right one. He kept the left arm down by his side. He could see just from looking at him that it was swollen and had to hurt. Dislocated shoulder at least. He could reset it; he had the training for it. It would hurt and there was a chance the damage was extensive enough to need surgery. He wouldn't know until he could see it.

He finally got the kid standing up. He barely came up to Xander's shoulder. Xander swiped his thumb under his eyes to clear away the remaining tears. The kid- guy- took a deep breath. Or tried. He stumbled and Xander caught him, but immediately adjusted his hands to wrap around his waist when he winced at his shoulder being touched.

"My shoulder hurts a lot," he said. "And it hurts to breathe."

"Does it feel like anything is moving or like there is any sharp poking sensations when you move?"

Xander watched as he took another breath and then took a step. He followed right beside him, his hands still on his waist. "I don't think so. It hurts, but I don't feel like I'm being stabbed. Just kicked repeatedly."

He wasn't sure if that was meant as a joke or the genuine way he felt. He decided to ignore it in favor of walking closely behind as they made their way around the bed and to the bathroom door.

Xander wanted to cut in, to help him in whatever way he could. He seemed determined to do it himself though. After a few seconds of standing just inside the bathroom, Xander leaning against the frame, he turned to look at him. All of his movements were slow, clearly trying to keep from hurting himself more. "I can't move my arm."

His left arm hadn't moved in the whole time he walked across the room. The shirt was rumpled, dirt clinging to it in spots. There was a tear on the back, something Xander wasn't sure was recent or not. "Can I help you get undressed?"

"I don't-" He licked his lips and his eyes fell to the floor between them. "I'm not comfortable with that. With you seeing me."

"Would you prefer a female to come in and help or I can just help with the shirt." Xander didn't move closer. If he was already uncomfortable, he didn't want to do anything to make it worse. "I'm afraid you might have a dislocated shoulder. Are you okay with me checking that? It will hurt, but I could reset it for you. Might help take some of the pain away."

"Thought you said I wouldn't be hurt here." That, Xander picked up on as an actual joke. He huffed out a breath.

"Are you naturally a smart ass or is it just the pain talking?" Xander stepped up and lifted the hem of his shirt once more. The kid kept his back turned to Xander as he worked the shirt from his good arm first. Good being a relative word. He tried to distract him by asking questions. "What's your name? Can't call you sweetheart forever."

"You also called me gorgeous," he said. His voice was nearly a whisper. Xander focused on pulling the shirt over his head. "Do you call all the guys that when they're being beaten?"

"You have a terrible sense of humor; you know that right?"

"If I don't laugh, I'm going to cry." He ducked his head down as Xander finally got the shirt over his head. "And crying hurts right now so I'm trying not to think about the fact my dad just nearly killed me. My body is also going numb and I don't think that's a good thing. You said you were a doctor, right?"

"One thing at a time," Xander said. He moved around the kid's body, pulling the fabric down his arm instead of trying to move him. It caught under his arm and Xander saw him wince when he added pressure to the fabric. "What is your name? How old are you?"

"If I tell you, can you still call me gorgeous?" Xander's eyes met the kid's and he could tell he wanted it to come off as a joke. His lip quirked up in a smirk, but his voice betrayed him. He was serious.

"If I don't like your name, I will," Xander said jokingly back. He dropped the shirt onto the bathroom counter and started looking at his shoulder. "Can I touch?"

"My name is Wright; W-R-I-G-H-T." He tensed up when Xander touched his bare shoulder. The bruise on his ribs was getting worse and he looked at his back. There was a cut on the injured shoulder, another nasty bruise starting on his lower back. His asshole of a dad really did a number on him. "Nineteen. Shit, that hurts."

"At least we won't have to worry about needing to get you emancipated or anything," Xander said as he worked. He could feel the way his shoulder jutted out. He turned to the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of painkillers. They were over the counter, but extra strength. "Can you swallow or do you need water?"

"Never had the-"

"Pills, smartass. Can you swallow pills dry or do you need a glass of water?" Xander smiled when he heard the first sound of a short chuckle. Followed by a groan.

"Fuck, it hurts to laugh. And I'm actually terrible at swallowing pills. Water is needed and I have to take one at a time."

"Stay right here and I'll get a bottle for you," Xander handed over the two pills to his good hand before walking out of the bathroom and through the house. The bedroom was set in the back right corner of the house. The bathroom had two entrances, one leading to the bedroom and one into the hallway. If it could be considered that. The rest of the house was open floor plan. The living room was right outside the bathroom, space to the left of that where he had a small, four-person dining table. The kitchen was to his right, the first room walked into from the front door. It was set up almost like the main house, but a smaller version and with less walls separating the rooms.

He grabbed a bottle of water and headed back to the bathroom through the hallway entrance. The shower was on the far wall, a walk-in that was spacious enough for two people. The hallway door was centered between the toilet on the right and the sink and counter on the left. That was where he found Wright again. In the same spot he told him to stay but now leaning his weight against the counter. And he was crying.

"Hey, hey. It's okay. I'm right here. Are you hurting? What's going on."

"I'm sorry," Wright said. He turned away from Xander when he set the water down on the counter. "I don't know. I'm sorry. I just started focusing on the pain too much and what happened. I could have died today. It just hit me. I should be dead."

"No, no. You were brought here for a reason," Xander said. He brushed the strands of hair off the side of his face. It wasn't really long, just hitting his eyes. He was curled in on himself, looking smaller than he already was. Xander had grown up on the ranch and then kept up an intense training during his years living in the city. Wright looked like he hadn't stepped foot in a gym. He didn't look weak, but Xander pictured him more into books than sports. He also looked like he maybe went without meals a few times a week. "You are stronger than you think. You were just joking with me. I need my gorgeous smartass back, please. Let's get you fixed and cleaned up and then we can talk about all of what happened, okay? Now, take the pills with the water and we'll get this shoulder fixed and then you can take a shower."

Over the next minute, there was a lot of swearing and shouting as Xander worked quickly to pop his shoulder back into place. Wright had more tears on his face and Xander gently wrapped him in his arms, consoling him without adding any pressure of a hug. He kept one hand on his waist and the other on the back of his head. Wright kept the good side of his forehead pressed against Xander's shoulder for several moments.

"That sucked," Wright whispered. He pulled his head back and looked up at Xander. "You suck. This sucks."

"I know it does," Xander said. He scratched lightly at his scalp before moving to brush his pointer finger lightly over the cut above his eye. "But you're going to get through this, okay? I think you need to see a doctor, but we can deal with that tomorrow. Right now, I want you to take a shower and get cleaned as much as you can. The cuts and bruises might sting, but the water pressure is gentle. Don't make it too hot, though, okay? You don't want to irritate your skin any more. I'm going to run to the main house and grab some bandages and food."

"You said there was a wedding going on, right?" Wright waited for Xander to nod before continuing. "I ruined it, didn't I? I should apologize to the people."

"You have apologized enough for things that aren't your fault, okay? Of anyone that would understand, William and Clark do. As I told you, William was the brains behind the idea for the refuge we have on the ranch. Don't worry about that right now. Just focus on getting cleaned up. I'll be back in twenty minutes but I'll leave my phone on the counter. If you need anything, open it up and call Patrick's contact, okay?"

"Okay. You sure you trust me with your phone? I know my dad warned you about it."

Xander rolled his eyes. Wright really did have a twisted sense of humor, but he would take it if it meant he wasn't crying. He'd seen it enough times; his emotions were going to be on a rollercoaster for a week at least. Maybe longer if the abuse had been ongoing. He knew that once someone was sure they had a safe space; they would typically act out before finding themselves and being who they are.

He pulled out his phone and opened his private browsing tab. He lived alone and got lonely; there was no shame in enjoying himself from time to time. Besides, he liked to read more than watch. But sometimes it worked well either way.

"This couple is personally my favorite," Xander said. He turned his screen to Wright. He saw his eyes widen and he looked up at Xander. He still had blood from his nose smeared over his lips and his eye was nearly swollen shut, but he could see the surprise on the rest of his face. Xander realized that he probably should have confirmed Wright's orientation before just showing him a video thumbnail of two guys. With the joke he'd made about swallowing, his brain just sort of assumed. But then the surprise turned into something like relief on Wright's face and the moment passed. "No matter what your dad said, you are not wrong. So, if you want to watch, watch. If you want to read, I have a tote of books sitting in the closet. Wright, look at me." He waited until his eyes were back on him. He smiled. "You are safe now."