Nizhoni knocked on Jaxsen’s door before coming through it. He lay on his side staring sightlessly at the wall. The sunlight showed through the window highlighting his hair to a white gold. She lay facing his back and he turned, coming instantly into her arms.

“My sweet, Yanaha, why the tears, baby?” She wiped his tears much like Sebastian had just wiped hers. He turned further into her arms. He took a shuddering breath.

“Why do you call me that? I’m not brave at all.” He wouldn’t look at her. She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I cry too much to be brave. Brave people don’t cry.”

“Brave people cry, Yanaha. Everyone cries. Tears aren’t a sign of weakness, my love.”

“Yes, they are,” he said as his eyes squeezed shut in a botched attempt to prevent more tears from falling. “They have to be.” He bit down on his bottom lip and his whole body was rigid as he failed to control the trembling rippling from head to toe.

“Why do they have to be?” She ran her fingers through his hair and over his back in small circles meant to comfort them both.

“’Cause.”

“’Cause why?” She pressed gently when it was apparent he wasn’t going to further elaborate. She kept her fingers running through his hair. He was beginning to relax. He scooted closer to her, as if he couldn’t get close enough. That anything outside her arm space was dangerous, uncharted territory.

“Because I have to believe it wasn’t for nothing. They would always tell me crying was for pussies and pussies got more punishments. The more I cried the more they hurt me. They would laugh at me and do whatever they could to make me scream.” He looked at her with pain and tears in his eyes. “If I didn’t deserve it, if it wasn’t my fault, then why did they do it, Zhoni?”

She felt her heart breaking. She’d once said those same words in another lifetime, crying into Sebastian’s arms at the injustice of it all. “There’s no reason for some of the savagery in this world, baby. People are sick at mind and sick at soul and prey on those they perceive as weaker to build themselves up. I call you ‘Yanaha’…the Navajo name I’ve given you…because you’re still here, baby. You’ve survived something that has killed much older than you.” She kissed his forehead. “It’ll get better, baby.”

“How do you know?” His voice was hardly a whisper, his eyes pleading that her words be true.

She wiped his face again and weakly smiled. “I know what it’s like to be shoved from place to place. Learning new people and new rules. Being hurt by those who are supposed to be taking care of you.” He watched her intently, searching her soul and she left it bare and open for him.

“Were you in foster care?”

She nodded. “Yeah. From when I was seven to when I was twelve. The family that fostered me when I was twelve ended up adopting me. That’s when I met Sebastian. He lived next door.”

“Did they hurt you bad?” he asked her as he looked away from her face to the creme yellow blouse she wore.

“Yeah, they did, baby. But you know what?” He shook his head and swiped at his tear stained cheeks. “It got better, Yanaha. Just when my impression became the worst, it got better. And little by little it continues to improve. I won’t lie, I’ve had my bad days--as will you. But it’ll get better, sweet boy.” He sniffled and nodded.

“They hurt me real bad, too. I’ll always be reminded of what they did.” He said hugging his torso where most of the scars hid under his shirt. “I hate by body because of them,” he whispered as he looked away. “No one has ever seen them…except Bastian…since they took the pictures for the trial. And the kids at the group home…they said such mean things to me. I’m scared to let people see.”

Nizhoni nodded in understanding, pushing back fallen hair from his eyes. “Sebastian was the first person to see my scars, too. After that he taught me sign language because at the point I came to meet him, I hadn’t spoken in three years. Eventually I began speaking to him…then gradually to others.”

She looked at him and swiped the fallen hair from his eyes again. “There will be days when it feels like it’s all crumbling around you. And days where you’ll stop and think you’re doing okay, but one thing to keep in mind, Yanaha…you’re not alone anymore, baby.”

Jaxsen bit his lip in deep, yet apprehensious rumination. “Zhoni?”

“What, baby?”

“Will you hold me?”

She wrapped him securely in her arms. They lay there, silent for the better part of an hour. Nizhoni just held him, running soothing fingers through his hair and over his back and bare arm.

“Zhoni?” His voice was quiet, softly and hesitantly whispered.

“Hm?” She thought he’d fallen asleep and was surprised by the calling of her name.

Jaxsen sat up and Nizhoni’s hand slid to rest at the small of his back. His eyes met hers briefly before dropping to study his finicky fingers. “Can I, um…can I…sh-show you?”

Nizhoni sat up and gave him her full attention. “You can show or tell me anything you need to, Yanaha. It won’t make me love or think any less of you.”

He nodded and took a deep breath before whipping off his shirt; quickly, like pulling off a Band-Aid. Nizhoni kept tight control over her reaction. She was very aware he was gauging how she reacted and knew her reaction would be used as a basis for any other time in the future, should he decide to share this part of himself. He watched her carefully, his eyes heavy, the tears blurring his vision. His heart pounded and his palms were slick with sweat. Nizhoni’s heart rate sped up as well, matching Jaxsen’s beat for beat.

“Oh, my love,” she choked out. He sniffled.

“We-were they right, Zhoni? A-am I ugly?” Nizhoni reached out for him and pulled him tightly into her arms. He leaned back into her, reveling in the safety he felt in her arms. He laid his head against her shoulder. Gently she kissed his cheek and traced her fingers over the pink scars that ornamented his chest, stomach, and arms.

“Jaxsen, do you trust me?” He nodded, frowning, confused by the question. “You know I’d not lie to you?”

“Sure, Zhoni. I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”

She smiled and kissed his cheek again. “Good. Then you listen to me carefully. You’re not ugly, baby. Theses…” She dragged her fingers lightly over his arms and across his stomach, making contact with too many a maculation. “These don’t make you ugly, my sweet Yanaha.”

“They’re ugly to me. Ugly reminders of ‘the Before Time.’ I’m scared…” He admitted this last confession so softly that if she hadn’t been able to read lips she’d have not known he’d spoken at all.

“Of what, sweet boy?”

He took a hitching breath, wrapping his arms around hers which circled his torso. “I’m scared that I’ll never see anything else but the remains of what they did. I don’t want to remember them every time I see myself. Because I do. I remember every scar.” He traced a particularly large one just under his rib cage on his right side.

“Know what this one is from?” She shook her head. “Mr. Grady did it.” He said nothing more as if that explained everything.

“Who’s Mr. Grady, baby?”

“Mr. Cunningham’s brother-in-law. One night he and Mr. Cunningham got really drunk together. I was asleep and they woke me up and took me into the basement…”

Terror filled him as he was dragged out of bed and thrown bodily down the stairs. He landed hard on his hands and knees, tears spilling down his cheeks.

“Up, boy!” he was commanded just before a drunken fist grabbed a handful of hair, hauling him to his feet. His screams were ignored and mocked as he was shoved into the edge of a large table, knocking the air from his lungs. Before he could regain his breath, Jaxsen was lifted and dropped onto the table’s surface. Against his bare back he could feel the grains in the wood. Upon landing he felt the fist in his hair before his head was castigated against the surface. Lights danced before his vision, all the fight he may have had left drained from him like water down a bathtub drain. Their laughter echoed and he found he couldn’t force his eyes open. He screamed as the blade sliced his skin, warm crimson pooling underneath him. He knew he was cut deep and this knowledge over-lapped the knowledge he was now restrained to the table. As the third slice to his abdomen was completed, Jaxsen lost consciousness.

“When I woke up, they were sitting a few feet away drinking some more. There were four cuts altogether. This one, and this one, and this one, and this one.” One by one he showed her the four scars. The one on his ribs, the next stretched across his hip bone on the right side. The third and fourth one created an ‘X’ between the breast line and the sternum.

“I think…sometimes I have dreams…that they put these here to later cut out my heart. In my dreams they do.”

Nizhoni squeezed him a bit tighter, holding him a bit closer, before turning him enough to make eye contact. She put a hand lightly over his heart, covering the X scar. “No one will ever hurt you like this again, baby. No one.”

“Do you promise?” The terror in the question and the hope shined equally in his eyes. She wiped away fresh tears and kissed his forehead. 

“I swear to you, Jaxsen. You’re safe now, Yanaha. You’re not alone anymore.”

“I don’t wanna be alone anymore,” he cried, wrapping his arms around her once more.