The hospital was confusing and busy and no one would tell Cassie anything. She was treated for a few scrapes and given something for shock, but otherwise she was fine, in body anyway. In spirit, she was broken.

"Luke, Luke Cavanaugh," she repeated to the lady at the desk again. "He came in with me in an ambulance. Could you please tell me how he is?"

"Sorry, I can't. You aren't his next of kin," the woman said dispassionately.

"He doesn't have a next of kin. He's a ward of the court, or was I guess."

"I'm sorry, but I can't release any information." The receptionist looked back to her computer screen again, dismissing Cassie outright.

Cassie could almost scream in frustration, but when she turned, she saw a police officer.

"Excuse me, Officer, I was brought in with Luke Cavanaugh in an ambulance. Officer Charles escorted us. Could you help me, please?"

He looked at her disheveled appearance and nodded. After talking into his radio for a second, he turned back to her, "Come with me." He took her further back in the hospital, past the busy emergency department to a different waiting area. Officer Charles was sitting with another man, holding hands.

"Steve, she was asking for you."

Cassie couldn't contain herself, questioning the familiar face immediately. "How's Luke? They wouldn't tell me anything. I can't just leave with him here, he has no one and I can't stand not knowing." Tears were rolling down her cheeks.

"He's pretty bad Cassie. There's some internal bleeding, so he's in surgery right now. Please have a seat." Officer Charles offered her the empty seat next to him.

"Thanks," she said as she collapsed into the plastic padded chair, utterly exhausted but still on edge.

"This is Bryan, he was Luke's caseworker and is his friend." Officer Charles introduced her to the man on his other side, the one whose hands he held.

"You're the reason he's studying social work," Cassie said, making the connection. "I'm Cassie, Luke and I are friends. We work together at the diner and study together sometimes."

Bryan looked at Cassie and he wanted to reveal that he knew who she was, but he couldn't. It wasn't his secret to tell, but it pleased him to no end that she so obviously cared. "It's really nice to meet you Cassie. If you know about me, then you must be a close friend of Luke's. He plays his cards close to his chest, if you know what I mean."

"Well, mostly we sit and study together for hours and don't really say anything, but he and I talk more than I've seen him do with anyone else. We share food sometimes and tonight I worked a really long shift and he made me a fantastic dinner." It all seemed like a dream it was so long ago. "He saved me. They were going to, um, well, rape me, I think." Cassie shuddered at the memory. "Officer Charles, do you think you'll be able to catch them?"

"It won't be me, Cassie. I can't be on the case, and please, call me Steve."

"Why not?" Cassie said indignantly. "Why can't you catch these bastards?"

"Because Bryan is my husband and Luke is like a son to us, really. I mean he spent Christmas Day at our house. I can't be involved with the case, it's not professional," Steve explained, looking pained.

Bryan tried to reassure Cassie, "But because Luke is basically related to us, Steve's co-workers are really motivated to find them. You'll have to give official statements and things in a little while. They just need to assign someone else to the case."

"I promise you, someone will be here in a bit. It's just it's New Year's and it's a bad night for policing."

"Not a good night for waitressing, either."

Cassie relayed as much of the story as she possibly could, Steve stopping to ask her questions and help her clarify points so that when she gave her official statement she could be as helpful as possible. She only stopped when someone came out in scrubs to address them.

"His internal bleeding has been stopped and nothing vital has been injured beyond repair. He has a lacerated liver and his lung was almost punctured, but the stab wound is just superficial, fortunately. Everything else is cosmetic aside from the head injury. There is some swelling on the brain, but we think it's just a bad concussion, for now he's still unconscious but hopefully he'll wake up soon."

"Will he be okay, Doctor?" Cassie asked, desperate for more information.

"He should be, hopefully. We've given him something for the pain, but we'll know more when he wakes up."

"They can't give us any assurances, Cassie, that's the way head injuries work," Steve explained.

"Can we see him?"

"As soon as we get him to a room. Right now he's in recovery. Probably another half hour or so."

"Poor Luke, it's not fair, this is all my fault."

"Cassie, it's not your fault some idiots got drunk and decided to do terrible things," Bryan reasoned.

"If I had just..."

"If you had just nothing, Cassie. None of this is your fault."

"I just don't know what to do."

"There's nothing you can do right now. Just wait. When the officers come to talk to you tell them everything you told us. And be there for Luke, if you can." Steve patted her leg comfortingly as she slumped back in her chair.

"I promise I'll be there for Luke," Cassie stated firmly.

.........................

Cassie woke up cramped in a polyester armchair after only a few hours of sleep. Beside her on a bed was Luke, face bruised and beaten, two new rows of stitches crossing areas where there already were scars. His ears were devoid of his usual piercings because of the x-rays, and he looked so very pale. The institutional smell of cleaners and an underlying sour odour of illness hung in the room, adding to the despair. Luke wasn't awake and hadn't been for over six hours now. His body was lying in the same position since they rolled him into the room. Different monitors and sensors were affixed to his body, leaving him exposed and vulnerable, his arms flat by his side. Cassie knew Luke would hate this, his scars visible for all to see, and there were scars. His chest was peppered with them. He had a light coating of hair in the centre of his chest and around his dark pink nipples, a few freckles but the rest of the marks weren't natural—pink and red scar tissue. Some were burns others were cuts, but they were numerous and it was shocking evidence to Cassie as to what kind of childhood Luke must have faced. Why he had been a ward of the court and why he wanted to save others. Adding to his marks were deep purple bruises along his ribcage and both his eyes were so swollen that it might not even be possible for Luke to open them enough to see when he did wake up.

She held his hand and cried. His fingers were long and thin, calloused from hard work, dry from the constant washing as a cook, and they felt wonderful in her hand. He had small scars on his fingers too, but Cassie figured they were from food prep. She studied the tattoos on his knuckles—the hand she was holding read 'hope' but was done poorly, like someone was fooling around with a ballpoint pen and some pushpins. Luke's nails were well taken care of—clean, like a cook's should be, and trimmed short; they were just another indicator of how well put together Luke was, and how much Cassie wanted him to recover. She fought the urge to kiss his sleeping face or run her hand up his wiry arm, instead she stared at him and willed him to be better.

The new officer assigned to the case had come shortly after Luke was moved to a room. Steve and Bryan sat with Cassie while she relayed everything from the evening before. They had taken photos of the scene and prints from her car already, but there wasn't much evidence in the parking lot—the knife was gone. There were no real leads, but the police were going to look into social media to see if any of the photos the one attacker took ended up online somewhere.

There was movement from Luke's bed. It wasn't much, but she was sure his foot moved. Cassie carefully leaned over Luke to press the call button, and she was sure she heard something; a rasp, different than his raspy breath, a timber to it akin to talking.

Luke could feel something besides the numbness and pain. He could smell something besides the stench of the hospital. He couldn't speak, but he could open his eyes a fraction and saw...a blur, a cheek? hair? Cassie?

Cassie leaned in close to his ear and softly whispered, "Luke, are you awake? Can you hear me?"

He squeezed her hand and she was elated. He was satisfied that she was okay and confused as to why she was there, but happy and comforted that she was.

The nurse entered. "What is it?"

"He's awake. He squeezed my hand."

"I'll get a doctor right away."

Cassie dialled Bryan immediately at the number he left her. "He's awake, he squeezed my hand!"

...................

A few hours later, Luke was talking slowly, the effort painful. His head injury was such that he didn't remember much beyond around ten o'clock the night before and he ached far worse than any hangover. He remembered the salmon and some of the orders he made, but there was nothing about the attackers at all.

"It figures. I do something heroic, I have no memory of it," Luke joked to Cassie, Bryan, and Steve.

Cassie was still holding his hand, so he liked that part of everything at least, but he didn't like feeling exposed and helpless. He wished he could pull the sheet higher, although the fact that she didn't seem bothered by the way he looked was something positive. Bryan and Steve had seen it all before.

"Can I get you anything, Luke? Just name it." Cassie was eager to do something.

"Clothes." He hated hospital gowns.

"Sure. They cut the ones you were wearing off. I can get clean ones from your place."

Luke nodded slowly, grimacing at the ache; at least where he lived wouldn't be a surprise for her.

"Okay, I need to change and shower, too. I'll get you some stuff. Do I need a key?"

"Yeah, in the drawer. Number 4."

"I'll drive you, Cassie," Steve offered.

"And I'll stay with Luke until you return," Bryan suggested.

"Thanks." Cassie was relieved to have help and the knowledge that Luke wouldn't be alone. She stood to leave and Luke's hand suddenly felt very empty. He tried not to look too crestfallen. "We'll be back soon. I promise."

"So that's 'the mystery girl, Cassie'?" Bryan asked after the door closed.

"Yes." Luke tried to nod, but again it caused stars to form and his head to ache.

"You know, you could have just introduced her to us, no need to go to all this trouble," Bryan said, smiling. "She's nice."

"I know." Luke thought for a second, "Is she really unhurt?"

"Aside from a few scrapes and bruises, yes."

"Good." He closed his eyes to rest.

"She didn't leave your side all night." Luke considered what Bryan said, liking the implication. He fell asleep to the memory of her hand in his.

.......................

"Where to?" Steve asked, spinning the keys in his hand.

"How about Luke's place first?"

"Yeah, you'll definitely need a shower after that." Steve shared Cassie's distaste for Luke's place of residence.

A musty, bitter odour met them at the door and the hallway was dimly lit, seemingly small, claustrophobic almost. Cassie and Steve picked their way around debris in the hall scattered on the stained carpet until they came to number 4. The door to Luke's room was ajar, light escaping out to the passage.

"What's going on?" Cassie looked at Steve, worried.

Steve went in ahead, cautiously, "Hello?"

"You interested in the room?" A beefy looking older man was dumping things, Luke's things, into garbage bags.

"This is Luke's room," Cassie stated, confused, as she stepped in the small room. She couldn't believe Luke lived like this. Not that the room was dirty, it wasn't, it was just sad.

He gave her a derisive look, "Not anymore it's not. Rent was due, it's not paid, he's out."

"I can pay it now." Steve moved to take out his wallet.

"Too late. I don't take late payments. He knew the rules."

"But he's in the hospital," Cassie argued.

"Half my tenants end up in the hospital for something or another. You're lucky you're early enough that I haven't put his things to the curb yet. Stupid textbooks."

"Look we'll take his stuff, please stop."

"Fine." The landlord moved towards the door, "But you need to be out in half an hour." As he turned, Cassie caught a glimpse of envelopes in his pocket, the familiar loop of her L on the top one.

"Wait! Steve, stop him."

Steve stood blocking the doorway. "Why?"

"He has Luke's money." Cassie tried to explain, "The envelopes in his pockets—they're Luke's."

"Those are my rent payments," the landlord moved to sidle around Steve.

"No, those are Luke's tip outs, the ones I gave him. They have my writing on them," Cassie insisted.

"Perhaps if you'd like to show us the envelopes, Sir," Steve's demeanour changed and he sounded more authoritative, more like the police officer he was.

"I don't have to show you shit."

"I'd say Officer Charles here would beg to differ," Cassie gestured to Steve. "Just hand over Luke's envelopes, please. He needs that money."

"You a cop?"

"Yes." Steve flipped out his badge.

"I don't want any trouble." The man passed over the envelopes and scurried out the door to the dingy hall. "Be out in an hour, no later."

"Do you think he has anything else of Luke's?"

"Not that we can prove. We should just salvage what we can. I can't believe that Luke was living in this dump."

"He said it was all he could afford. But he's going to stay with me now; he needs to recuperate and I have space. I owe him everything," Cassie hadn't been planning on this, but as soon as the words slipped from her lips she knew it was right and true. He needed her right now, just as she needed him.

"Cassie, that's very kind of you but..." Steve and Bryan were fully prepared to take Luke in.

"Look, you and Bryan live too far away from the diner and the university, plus you both work more than full time hours. I can be home with him more and I'm within walking distance to both places Luke needs to go. I don't have a roommate and I have a reasonable landlord. He's coming to my place when he's released."

"Okay, but Cassie, I just want you to be aware that Luke has lots of demons, not just from this time."

"He's also one of the nicest people I've ever met."

...........................

Steve unloaded the last few items from his car while Cassie showered. Her apartment wasn't large and it only had one bedroom, but it was infinitely better than Luke's former residence. It also wasn't a building the police got calls to very often, so Steve knew it was far safer. Luke had so few things that Steve could fit most of his belongings on an empty shelf in the living room. His textbooks and binder were the biggest pile, there was a picture of Steve and Bryan from their wedding, and a small pile of clothes. Steve noted the sizes, realizing that Luke really couldn't afford to lose the clothes that were cut off him from the attack. He also put Luke's envelopes in a pile under the books, grateful that Cassie had noticed.

After a few minutes Cassie emerged from her room clean and wearing some sweatpants and a red t-shirt. Her light brown hair hung in loose damp locks and her skin was pink from scrubbing.

"Everything okay, Cassie?"

"Yeah, I just had a hard time getting clean, I guess," her voice hitched.

"That's a natural reaction," Steve pulled her in for a hug. "Did you want to pick out clothes for Luke?"

"Uh, could you? I mean I'm not sure if I'd be comfortable..."

"Sure, no problem, there's not much to choose from anyway. Can you think of a few things he might need?"

"Well, his jacket is terrible and probably ruined, but otherwise I'm not sure what he'd accept. He could use something though, maybe a sweater?"

"You know Luke pretty well, then," Steve said with a chuckle. He grabbed a few pieces of clothes, then turned back to Cassie, "Ready to go?"

Cassie was clutching a few novels and a blanket. "Yes, I just have to grab something to eat."

"No, it's okay. Bryan and I will get you something. Don't worry."

Later in the day, Cassie was snug under her blanket in the chair next to Luke reading a book. He slept off and on while his body recovered from his injuries, but by all accounts he was healing well. Bryan and Steve had not only brought Cassie lunch, but they had provided her with snacks and drinks to tide her over all day, so she was content to stay and watch over Luke, not that she would have left anyway. He was still on a fair amount of pain killers, so he slept more than he was awake, occasionally making noises or mumbling as he slept. The warmth of her blanket and the exhaustion of everything caused Cassie to nap, too. When Luke woke, he looked across and studied her as she slept. The rush of affection for her left him almost breathless. He was so relieved nothing bad had happened to her, her pert little nose, her silky cheeks, and expressive eyes. Luke wanted to reach across and just run his fingers over her soft curving lips, but he couldn't, he just couldn't, and it killed him.

.......................

"C..cassie?" Luke called in the night, her chair empty. She wouldn't have stayed all night, would she? He had awoken after a troublesome dream and was disoriented.

"Yes, Luke?" She was across the room, looking out the window.

"You can leave if you want. You don't have to stay," Luke said, but actually he was happy she was still there.

"I'm not leaving," she said, resolutely.

"Okay," his heart lurched and he was smiling, even if she couldn't see.

But she could and she did, even if he didn't know.

.............................

Two days later, Steve and Bryan drove Luke and Cassie to her apartment. Luke was bundled in the back seat under Cassie's blanket, wearing a new winter jacket and some sweats that Bryan picked up for him. Luke balked at the new clothes, but realized he couldn't put on his jeans with his injuries.

"Where are we going?" Luke was confused.

"You kind of got evicted," Cassie admitted.

"What?"

"Your rent was late. When we went to get you clothes, your landlord was preparing to toss everything," Cassie explained. Luke's face froze in shock—all his stuff.

"Don't worry, I think we got everything. Cassie even stopped him from stealing your tip outs," Steve cut in quickly.

"Where are we going?" Luke persisted. He didn't want to take charity from Steve and Bryan, it wouldn't be fair to them.

"You're staying with me," Cassie stated simply. "It's close to the school and work, I don't have a roommate, and you can help with my rent once you're able." She made sure to tell him in such a way that he couldn't refuse. She knew there was a bigger fight on the way, anyway.

Sure enough.

"I can't take your bed!" Luke raised his voice but was instantly sorry he did so, it really hurt his head. He tried not to wince.

"That's a perfect example of why you have to. You need to recuperate and not be bothered. When I'm up and doing things I don't want to disturb you. In a few weeks when you are more healed we can discuss this again, but for now you have the bed and I have the sofa bed," Cassie said softly, but in a tone that said there was no argument.

"I think you'd better listen, Luke," Bryan said with a smile.

Luke nodded numbly and walked into the first bedroom of his own in years. There was an older wooden dresser, small night table, and a queen size bed covered with a thick creamy white duvet. In foster care and group homes he always had to share a room with at least one other person. Bunk beds or crammed in twin beds were the norm. Even though this wasn't really his room, he truly appreciated what Cassie was giving up for him.

"Thank you," there was a crack to his voice that was unmistakable.

"Maybe you should rest now," Cassie suggested, pulling back the heavy covers. Without argument Luke climbed in under the white duvet and closed his eyes. "I'll bring you some water and your pills in a little while."

"Luke, we can see you're in good hands, we're going to get going. Steve has a shift in an hour or so, and I'll call later to check on you," Bryan said softly.

"Thank you, thank you all so much," Luke's eyes were watering, so he kept them closed. The overwhelming emotions he was experiencing were just too much.

Cassie fidgeted while Luke slept. She liked having him here, but she needed to figure out how to have him close without stepping over boundaries. She brought in his pills and water, and quietly surveyed his sleeping form. His earrings and other piercings were back in, making him dangerously appealing, but she could still see the amazing boy he was underneath. How she could have ever thought he was anything but beautiful was completely beyond her. She wanted to reach out and touch him in so many ways. The thought occurred to her that watching him sleep was probably stepping over a boundary, so she left the room. Luke had woken when she had initially walked in but kept his eyes closed. He was a light sleeper out of necessity, and he couldn't figure out what she was doing after she placed things on the bedside table. All he knew was he missed her presence when she left.