Nodding, she stepped away from Shaun and slowly made her way back downstairs.

*-*-*-*

“Alright, on my count, one…two…three,” Tom counted off for his partner as they picked up the backboard holding the little boy. Without a word, they carried the child out of the house.

Tom watched as the little boy slowly opened his eyes. When he looked around, Tom assumed that the little boy was looking for his mother. As soon as the little boy’s gaze landed on the house, the violent tremors began.

“Whoa! Tom, hold up I think the kid is seizing,” Jeff said. In a well-practiced move, they placed the backboard on the ground and re-checked the little boy’s vitals.

“He’s having another panic attack,” the boy’s mother said flatly, sounding exhausted as she stood by them, making no moves to comfort the boy as he started to scream.

Tom looked at his partner and then back at the boy’s mother, pissed that she wasn’t helping. The kid needed his mother and she was just standing there, looking like she didn’t care. “Ma’am, it’s kind of chilly out here. Why don’t you wait in the ambulance and stay warm?”

With a slight nod, she walked over to the ambulance and climbed in the back. Shaking his head in disgust, Tom finished looking the little boy over, making sure that they hadn’t missed anything.

When he was done, he nodded towards the boy and without a word they picked up the backboard and headed towards the ambulance. They found his mother sitting on the tech bench. When they strapped the backboard to the stretcher, she finally looked at her son. She gave the boy what looked like a forced smile.

Tom watched as the little boy looked up at his mother and started to return her forced smile when an expression of pure terror spread over his face. In seconds, he was screaming, his eyes were squeezed shut, and he was tearing at the safety restraints that secured him to the board. He was just about free when Tom managed to grab a hold of him and restrain him on the board. “Jeff, get back here now!”

Tom tried to hold Tristan’s arms down, but he could barely manage it. He was shocked at how strong this six year old kid was. In matter of seconds, the little boy broke free and lunged for the door. Tom managed to grab the kid before he could jump out of the truck. He had the kid back on the board when the kid took him by surprise and kicked him in the groin.

“Get the kid!” Tom yelled when Jeff opened the back doors, in too much pain to move, never mind wrestle with the kid again.

Jeff barely managed to catch the kid when he jumped out of the ambulance. The boy was like a rabid animal, kicking and swinging his fists as he struggled to get free.

“Tom, grab the restraints and call the police! I can’t handle this kid!”

Still huddled on the floor of the ambulance, Tom struggled to stand up and when that didn’t work, he crawled to the front of the ambulance. He grabbed the portable radio. “Echo 14 in need of police assistance on scene. I repeat, echo 14 in need of police assistance.” Still gasping for air, he lowered the microphone and waited for a response.

“Echo 14, sending police assistance to 13 Derry Road. Is that correct?” dispatch returned.

“That’s correct.”

“Police are on their way, echo 14. Fire rescue is on its way as well.”

“I need a hand!” Jeff yelled.

Tom stood up and almost immediately doubled over from pain. He steadied himself by holding onto the back of the seat and shutting his eyes when the pain surged throughout his body and threatened to knock him back on his ass. After a minute the pain lessened and he was able to open his eyes. He quickly found his partner still wrestling with the kid at the back doors. Blood was trickling from Jeff’s nose and the kid was hanging from the back of the ambulance while Jeff held onto his legs. The only thing that he couldn’t see was the woman.

“Ma’am?” he said.

Nothing.

Muttering a few choice words, Tom climbed over the passenger seat and jumped out of the ambulance. He made his way to the backdoors in time to grab the little boy just as he was about to kick Jeff in the face.

“Gotcha!” Tom said. He pulled the kid away from the ambulance, ready for anything.

Halfway to the ground, he noticed something odd. The kid wasn’t fighting anymore. Thinking that it was a trick, he quickly pinned the kid’s arms against his body and held him on the ground. After a minute, the boy’s breathing became more relaxed.  He watched as the boy opened his eyes and looked around, seeming to avoid the direction of the ambulance and house at all costs.

What the hell?

“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” the little boy suddenly said, sounding close to tears.

He looked down at the now upturned face of the little boy that he was holding. Looking into the kid’s bright green eyes he sensed overwhelming sadness, too much sadness for a kid this young. He felt lost looking into those eyes. All he could think about was the time that his son had broken his arm falling out of a tree and how much pain Denny had been in.

Having a good idea what the kid needed, he turned the boy around in his arms and hugged him as he stood up. The kid hugged him back and began to cry, his small body trembling as he held on tightly to him. Tom gently rubbed the boy’s back, trying to soothe him.

“It’s okay, buddy.” Tom repeated while walking away from the ambulance and headed for the road. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

*-*-*-*

Julie watched as the paramedic comforted her son. It was odd, she knew that she should be running over there and taking Tristan into her arms and comforting him, but she couldn’t seem to force herself to do it.  She felt a sense of peace from knowing that her son was being cared for and at the same time not having to be the one to do it. With a sense of relief, she turned around and walked into the house. Shaun greeted her at the door with a look of understanding. They didn’t need to say anything. They walked in the house and closed the door behind them.

They were done.

Chapter 1

23 Years Later………

“Tristan, is there anything that you’d like to discuss today?” Dr. Bryne asked, the words leaving his mouth with very little effort or thought, thanks to twenty years of practice. He settled back in his favorite faux brown leather chair and looked through the thick personnel file on his lap that he technically wasn’t supposed to have access to, but given the patient that he was dealing with, it had been agreed that a few rules needed to be broken.

After a moment of silence, he looked up from his notes to find the patient he’d been dying to get on his couch for years, lying on the couch across from him reading a book, obviously set on ignoring him once again. At least this time Tristan wasn’t just sitting there glaring at him. Even Dr. Bryne had to admit that had been a little unnerving, especially the way Tristan just sat there never saying a word or moving a muscle as he glared at him for the entire hour. Not that Dr. Bryne would ever admit this, but that one session had almost scared him off this case.

Almost.

“Tristan, this is your third appointment in the last week and a half and you have yet to participate in a conversation. I think it would be beneficial for you to talk about something that's bothering you,” he said, not really expecting much of a response as he returned his attention back to the thick file resting on his lap, not because he was afraid of another glaring match. He wasn’t, he decided, thankful that the file was so thick that it would probably take him the entire session to read through it, again, and give him a reason to focus on anything other than his patient.