I gently led Reverend into the infirmary, ensuring everything was closed tight and it would just be he and I. Sitting him down on a cot and keeping him bundled up in the small blanket I took a seat at my desk. He stared down to the floor, terrified to be here, so I put my hand on his knee and gave a little squeeze to reassure him.

"It's just us, Reverend," I said. "Everything is soundproofed. Only I will hear anything. Are you ready?"

"…Not really," he said, muffled through the blanket.

"Can you please try?" I asked. "I'll be asking you some more pointed questions to get started. Please be honest so I can help you sort these things out. You have nothing to lose by doing so. You will not be judged here."

"…I will try."

"Thank you. Let's start from the beginning: Who are you, and where are you from? You need not worry about them overhearing you here."

"M…My name is Samuel," he said, his eyes tearing up. "I-I'm from…Falun, a town at the far north of Faradus."

"And how was your life in Falun? Do you prefer I call you by your alias or by your name?"

"My life at home was…unpleasant, and…I'm fine with either at this point, as long as it's in here."

I scooted my chair a bit closer and crossed one leg over the other.

"And what was it about Falun that was unpleasant?" I continued.

"Falun was…more or less run by a new type supremacy group," he recalled, his shoulders growing tense. "I-I was one of…very few pure types in the town."

"And what did this mean for you, Samuel?" I interrogated, touching my toes to his leg to let him know I'm still here.

"…I was routinely a-assaulted by other residents of the town for what I was, or chased from place to place. I was smaller than most so I never won any fights I was thrown into, just…having little option but to weather the storm and try to make it home in one piece."

His eyes continued to leak the thick red tears of neutralized energy. As horrible as it looked, this indicated progress. He looked uncomfortable in here, more so than usual, so I considered my options as his caregiver.

"Would you rather I sit by you so this feels more familiar, or would you prefer the more professional approach I'm taking?" I asked the scared man. "I am happy to provide either."

"…Please…sit with me," he quietly said, covering his face.

I stood up from my chair and instead took a seat on the cot. With my arm around him I pulled him close to me, holding him against my side. Who's to say when he last talked to anyone about any of this? It was up to me to make the ordeal as comfortable as I could, even if that meant, well, putting the professionalism to the wayside for now.

"Is this better?" I asked, nudging his sweaty head with my snout.

"…Yes, thank you."

"So you were assaulted," I recounted. "Do you mind telling me in what ways? I will not force you to indulge anything you aren't comfortable telling me."

"…Cornered and beaten, chased down several streets, rocks and other objects thrown at me…burned by matches and lit cigarettes, struck with bottles or sticks…you name it."

…Geez. This explained a lot.

"How did your parents react, if they were present?"

"My…father did as you've seen, but my mother was mostly absent," he said after a deep breath. "Being a first-generation she had a much easier time integrating so she spent…much of her time working, but…when she was home she was not much better toward me than he was."

I was surprised, then, by how he was as a father to Riv, even with the latest matters. Usually people work according to the examples they're given and it's incredibly hard to not fall into that habit as, well, it's all they know. With how cautious he was about doing the best, right things for Riv I think he, too, was worried about possibly succumbing to his poor examples. I would say he worked very hard not to fall into that trap, but…it seemed to come naturally to him, somehow, at least from what I'd seen.

"I'm very glad you trust me enough to tell me these things," I combed my fingers through his hair. "As much as I'm sure it's a difficult topic, is this at all related to the scarring on your body?"

"…Yes, it is."

"Can I ask what happened?"

"…I don't…remember the stimulus for it, but…I remember getting doused with something and…"

"…I won't make you continue if you're not comfortable."

"…And s…someone threw a lit match. I-I couldn't…I couldn't get the shirt off fast enough, the f-fire scarring much of my torso, both front and back. I-I go to great lengths to hide the…disfigurements I carry."

I held my snout against his head, continuing to hold him close and warm. I remembered very well how he felt, how hard he sobbed when I was tending to his wounds from his fight with his father. The scarring on his body was extensive, the skin fibrous and gnarled, unable to regrow the grey fur it once had. Upon seeing it his requirement for privacy made a lot more sense.

"Would you say that was the worst encounter?" I asked from there.

"…No, it wasn't," he huddled in closer.

I was honestly surprised.

"Th-There were many horrible encounters, many of which I can't tell apart from others anymore, but…I…remember very well the one I'd consider the worst, and it still haunts me all these years later."

"You can tell me if you'd like, but I won't force ya."

Given his sniffling whatever it was must be pretty substantial, so I continued to hold him to my side to keep him feeling safe and comfortable by any means necessary.

"…All I wanted was a family, and I…"

"Hm?"

"…I couldn't have…something so many people take for granted."

"Samuel?"

"…I was twelve, and…on my way home from school," he sniffled into the blanket, "when I was…chased, quickly surrounded, and shoved into an alleyway not far from home. F-From there I…there was a rope thrown and tightened around my neck while…four others held me down to the ground."

"I'm still listening."

"…A-Another pulled down my slacks and I…I had no way to fight back. I couldn't move and I couldn't breathe enough to scream. A final member took out a knife, a-and…"

"I'm still here," I nudged. "I always will be. You don't need to tell me anything you don't want me to know."

"…H-He…removed some…organs," he whimpered, cowering harder into my side. "Th-They wouldn't let me go until their business was finished, saying such things weren't necessary because I was a dead-end. I…managed to get home and…crudely stitch up the damage, but…as you've probably seen and heard, it came with…lasting effects, ones that would follow me forever."

I don't think my ears could slink back any farther. With both arms around him I held this poor man close, continuously petting his head and preening my fingers through his messy, sweaty hair. He just sat there, choking back his emotions, bundled up in his blanket and curled upright into a ball trying so hard to shrink away into nothing.

So many things suddenly made so much more sense. The soft voice, the narrow body, the weight distribution, his short stature, and his softer skin and facial features…were from missing androgens. He'd lost his way of going through puberty, which…also meant that his prudishness wasn't just out of pride, but something he really couldn't fathom even as a concept.

…Further, why he tried so hard to compensate for what he was missing, how afraid he'd been to open up about anything or partake in affection because 'that isn't what men do'. It wasn't just something he'd been told once or twice at this rate, but something he'd forced himself to believe and follow…to validate himself as a man, to prove to himself and to others that he was.

Now I…understood what his father was alluding to, and it just made me that much angrier. Knowing, too, that this came from a pack of new types brought to light a fuller scope of depth to his love for his child.

"Are you alright?" I asked the small, cowering man against my side. "I'm still here, and still listening."

"…I'm…okay…"

"Are you sure?" I pushed. "I appreciate that you're going this far, but it's something I still want you to do because you're comfortable and willing."

"…I'm sure, Daniel…"

"…Okay, then," I relented. "I would like to know if your…'method' of dealing with physical conflict stems from your history."

"…My method?" he asked.

"I've noticed three times now that you will reach one hand for the throat and one for the groin when put into a physical confrontation," I said against his head. "I saw this performed against your father, myself, and Riv. Does this approach have some particular meaning behind it?"

"It was…usually the only way I had to get away from a conflict," he sighed. "It was never something done with the intention to…actually cause significant harm, but…cause enough pain that I could run away. I'm…too small and weak to win fights, or even attempt to, so…this was something I took to using so I could escape the situation."

"And you seem to take to it when you feel you have no other way of escape, judging by your attempt against me," I thought back. "I'm sorry for cornering you like that, but I needed to calm you down and that was the only way I could think to. I've dealt with a lot of cases like yours and I've heard many a story about the horrible hallucinations people see and hear."

"…I was…trapped in a black void, the…walls covered in eyes," he whined. "I couldn't see anything but that, and when you came into the room you were…some kind of red monster making just horrible sounds. I didn't know where I was or what to do and couldn't escape, so…it was all I could think to do just to get away."

"Do you know what's led to this development? If you're seeing eyes and monsters, you sound like you're being watched."

"…It's the staff, Daniel, and there's…nothing I can do about them."

"The staff? Are the rumors still circulating? I thought the nightstaff was replaced."

"…The current nightstaff are worse. The staff in general is worse. They're always watching me, waiting for me to…do something they disapprove of so they can twist it and use it as gossip fodder. I know why they hate me, but it's…just not something I'm willing to stop doing just to please them."

I tilted my head.

"They hate Riv, Daniel, and by extension they hate me for continuing to keep him here," he coughed. "Now they…want me to call him by an alias just to keep him here. I don't want to do that, it's disgusting and dehumanizing, but I'm…I'm so afraid of what might happen if I don't follow. I don't want Riv to think I don't love him anymore."

"Is that what happened today?" I asked.

"Yes, I was…approached in my room by Morissey this evening regarding this matter."

"…What did he do to put you in a red panic attack? That doesn't just happen for no reason; something else is up."

"I'll…just say he wasn't happy with me," he cringed, rubbing his throat. "I've already…told you far too much about this. C-Confidential or not, I'm under an NDA about…a lot of things."

I sighed. That was fair and I absolutely understood this kind of thing, having been under several similar things myself over the years. Even though this was as safe as it could get, it was still riskier than saying nothing at all. This was something I didn't want to push. I could already tell, though, that whatever it was must've been pretty horrible to spiral him into the mess I found him in.

"I hate to ask, but…have you considered quitting?" I asked, bracing for the worst.

"…Every day, Daniel."

"What stops you?"

"I…might have made it here on foot from Hagali, but…I couldn't bear to put a child through that," he tensed up. "I was horribly disheveled and weary when I got here after walking seemingly nonstop for over a month. I refuse to put him through that. At least…w-with this, I know he's fed, housed, and cared for. That's…what really matters."

He had a point. Even if he quit and sold the house, there's not really any telling where he could go that could accept Riv without question. Even Wuori was pretty far from here and it would probably take a wagon. Riv still wasn't old enough for on-foot travel to be feasible and putting him through that anyway would just be inhumane. The situation as a whole seemed hopeless with him unable to find any alternative work to compensate for the employment he stood to lose.

There was only one thing I could think of.

"Would you be alright, then, if I took over some portion of your work?" I proposed. "Like I said, it's not terribly often my profession is needed so I've got plenty of time. I'd be more than happy to help ease your stress-- you'd have that much time freed to spend with Riv."

"…Is that something…you actually want to do?"

"It is."

"Then…I accept the proposal," he exhaled, "but I'm not sure if it will matter."

"Why's that?"

"Those staff are so…obsessed with every little affectionate gesture I exchange with my son that I'm afraid of doing anything further," he began to cry. "I don't want him to grow up how I did, but I don't know how to get around this."

"Do you want my honest advice here?" I asked.

"I already have a feeling where this is heading."

"Who's to say. They're going to say and make up things regardless of what you do or don't do-- that much is absolutely apparent. If this is the case, then I think you should do as you please. You're not some worthless peon who can just be pushed around, Samuel. You're a living, breathing person trying his hardest to get by and give his child a good life despite getting dealt a rough hand. I'll stick close by you as much as I need if it deters Morissey from pushing further. I know he's afraid of me and maybe it's time I use that to your advantage."

"But…if he fires me, then you'll be fired, too," he sighed, grabbing onto my shirt. "I don't want to hurt you or anyone else in this."

"If that happens, I'm pulling all of us out of here," I assured him, returning my snout to his head. "He's afraid of me, but he's also afraid of losing me. Likewise, the fact that he's gone to such an extent to cow you into what he wants tells me he's afraid of losing you, too. If he wants to play dirty, then I'll be more than happy to oblige."

"A-Are you sure?" he whined.

"Absolutely," I affirmed. "I hate stupid mind-games like these and I'm not about to play to this twisted rhythm. I'll do whatever I can to hold this place together beside you. Just, please, let me try."

"You'd…You'd do that for us?"

"You're my family and I love you both more than I can put into words."

By now I don't think he could bury himself any further into my side. I brought up my leg and turned my pelvis to bring him into my front and hold him to my core, letting him cry out the rest of his nerves. His little grey face was red with neutral energy, the liquid soon dissipating after exposure to the air. This was progress, and a fair amount of it. With his head on my chest he shook, completely spent from this day, and terrified where to go from here.

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