Sanctuary Pt. 01: Aubrey Ch. 03

"BB where did you come from?" I asked.

"I was in the kitchen stealing a cookie when Charlene called," Carla said. " There was no stopping her after that."

"Of course not!" BB snapped. "I finally get someone who can wash dishes worth a damn and you fools go off and break her. I am here to protect my interest."

Ella smiled at me and patted my hand. "Don't you believe a word of it," she said. "Its because you can reach all the lower shelves."

I smiled through the tears. I had been amazed at how much I have grown to like these people even though I had just met them.

It was not long before we pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. As we drew closer to the emergency room entrance, Carla spoke up.

"I am on the oversight board here and practitioner, follow behind me, and I will get us in quickly.

Charlene pulled up, and everyone piled up out of the car. BB opened the door for Harold who hefted me up and carried me inside. I bite down on my lip to not whimper as every bump or shift caused pain.

Harold leaned down and whispered against my ear. "So brave, but this is a perfect time to cry if you need to."

I sniffled but tried to be strong. I didn't want to cry because I hated the way it made Harold's face etched with concern.

"My hair...", I said.

Harold smiled to me, with his face so near, the smile made up my entire world at that moment.

"We will get your hair fixed princess. Don't you worry about that." He said.

An ER nurse approached us as we entered. Carla held up her badge and put an arm around the nurse forcing her to walk with us towards the ER admittance area. She rambled off some medical words I did not quite understand. We passed through some doors before we entered a section with small rooms off each of the sides with floor to ceiling curtains. At Carla's instructions, Harold deposited me gently onto an examination table. I had just glanced at the sheet and saw the contrast of blood. Immediately the room spun, and I felt myself about to be sick. I must have looked like I was about to because Carla spoke up loudly.

"Harold," Carla said sternly.

Harold laid my head back and sat on a stool keeping my eyes on only him. He started talking to me, but I was focused on not throwing up, and so it took me a few moments to turn my attention to him.

Carla stepped away only to return with scrubs pulled on over her clothing and gloves pulled up over hands. She and the ER nurse unwrapped the sheet around me and removed it from the table leaving me completely naked, and I would imagine, covered in blood. BB and Ella excused themselves and went to meet up with Charlene in the waiting room.

Carla began by washing the area and examining, reciting medical terminology to the nurse who assisted her.

"Can you feel this?" Carla said to me.

I shook my head, and the tears fell down the sides of my face. Harold was diligent in keeping my eyes locked on his.

I heard a snip and pain hit me like a truck drawing a most pitiful whimper. I heard Carla place the tie in a metal container and then the warm wash once again between my legs.

"Well, I think Aubrey escaped having to have stitches, but we need to do an ultrasound and a CT scan to make sure that there are not any blood clots," said Carla.

Harold nodded.

"Then do I get a sucker?" I asked sniffling, trying hard to smile through the falling tears.

"Sweetheart, after this Harold better buy you a damn pony." Carla snorted.

"Deal," said Harold quietly.

I was bandaged up, poked, prodded, scanned, and looked at for hours before I was placed in a proper hospital room. I wanted to go home, but Carla wanted me observed at least overnight. After the pain medicine kicked in, I didn't protest anymore and rested while the girls came up and sat with me.

I had been worried what the doctors and nurses would say and ask about the zip tie, but no one uttered a word. Carla had told me that nothing can surprise an ER ward. They had seen everything.

With everything deemed okay, I was finally discharged late the following night. BB said I could pick anything I wanted for dinner to have ready when I arrived. I chose mac and cheese with hot dogs cut up in them. It was comfort food for the soul.

From that day on, it seemed everyone watched over me. I was told by Ella that Teddy was still at the house. However, it appeared that he was carefully kept away from me. Carla and Harold both took turns tending to my bandages. I was confident I could do it myself, but it seemed to give Harold some relief to see me heal. He also made it a point to help me dress in the morning and undress at night since I was having an issue with bending or twisting. To be honest, I found it sweet, and Harold charming and gentle.

***

[ 2 weeks later ]

Harold, the girls and I sat in the drawing room. Across and facing us, Teddy sat in a chair with Samuel standing behind him. This had been the first time I had seen him since the day of the incident. He did not join us at meals and did not seem to be moving about the home. I had wondered for a while if he had indeed been at the house all this time.

Harold cleared his throat loudly and spoke. "Theodore Higgins, you have been accused of violence, physical and mental harm against Aubrey Fuller. How do you plead?"

Teddy sat there head down, his frame held tightly as if he were trying not to shake or shiver. "I am guilty," he said finally, voice hollow.

A long stretch of silence permeated the room. I caught myself looking between Harold and Teddy. Harold's composure seemed thin, and at first, I thought it was anger I saw behind his eyes, but then I suspected something more. I appeared to be more pained, a bit sorrowful. Teddy, on the other hand, looked as he was ready to bolt at any moment. I watch his hands fidget and clinch in his lap.

Harold sighed heavily. "Teddy... you hurt one of our own. What am I supposed to do with that?"

I watched as Teddy's hands clenched again, so tightly that his knuckles turned white. I thought I saw something in his hands but could not be sure.

Harold continued. "You know as well as anyone here, this type of behavior cannot be allowed. I should have already removed you from this house!" Harold's voice rose shakily. "Dammit, there wasn't even an apology!"

"I am sorry," I found myself saying. "I am sorry for disturbing the way things were. I have obviously hurt Teddy in someway." I didn't look to see the reactions of the others. My eyes were on the boy in the chair.

Teddy's hands twitched, and I saw it this time. Blood.

"No!", I whispered and pulled a handkerchief from my purse. Without thinking, I stood and moved towards him, too quickly for my short experiences in heels and landed hard on my knees, the white carpet doing little to cushion the impact. Panicked, I did not yet feel the pain and crawled the few remaining feet and kneeled up before Teddy. I grabbed his hands, crimson crescent moons shown gouged in by his fingernails. I pressed my handkerchief into his hands and held them there, applying pressure. He tried to wrench his hands out of mine, but I held on tightly.

"I don't need your pity too!" he screamed at me.

I reactively cringed and bowed my head turning into a little ball at his feet, some deep part of me waited to be struck, but it didn't come. It took me a few seconds to breath again. I didn't look anyone. In those moment's of silence that followed I waited for my breath to catch up with me, I felt Teddy's hands squeeze mine. I looked up into a horrified face.

"She doesn't know Teddy," Harold said, almost gently. "That is not our story to tell. It wasn't from pity it was out of kindness."

Carla spoke up. "Harold, the carpet! Aubrey are you alright?"

I looked back and saw a dots of red in a line along the carpet. I rolled off my knees and looked down at the rugburns that glared angerly back.

Carla excused her self to get the first aid kit.

"I am ok, but I ruined your rug. I am sorry," I said sadly.

Harold spoke up, "I don't care about the r-"

"God you looked so scared," Teddy said to me quietly.

I looked up into his face. His features looked tortured and sorrowful.

"You are not the only one who has had a hard life, Teddy," Harold said delicately.

I searched Teddy's pained face seeking understanding but said nothing. He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Harold found me on the streets in New York. I was prostituting myself." His words were low and hushed. He paused a few heartbeats before continuing. "He took care of me, got me cleaned up from drugs and let me stay here. I didn't have it very good in those days, but I was never really abused. I had known people who have been... and they had the same look you just did; like they had been through hell. God Aubrey, I am sorry. I didn't know."

I pulled up my skinned knees and rested my chin on them. I tried to tell him it was ok, but the words got stuck, and I couldn't get them out.

"We all hide our wounds," said Harold softly. "That is why I find her smile all the brighter. Why I have come to cherish her laughter in this house. This is why I am heartbroken because she has been hurt under my roof. I did not protect her."

Teddy gave a deep shuddering breath. "I wanted to freak Aubrey out. I admit that it was a terrible idea. I didn't mean to hurt him though. When I saw it was causing pain, I tried to remove it but I couldn't. I panicked and ran to the kitchen to get something sharp to remove it, but Samuel found me first."

"Why didn't you tell us this?", Harold asked.

"I felt like shit for hurting him, and I thought that I deserved to be kicked out of the house. But I stayed because I don't know what I would do if I weren't allowed to go to Sanctuary." Teddy said, voice cracking and strained.

Harold sighed softly with a pained look on his features.

Teddy bowed his head silently. "What will you do now?" he asked Harold.

Harold walked over to me. "Your days of doing whatever you please around here is over. I am sorry Teddy, There has to be justice to what has happened. I have asked Carla, Samuel, Charlene, BB, Ella and none of them wish to take stewardship of you."

I reached out and gently took hold of Harold's pants leg. He looked down at me.

"I will take him," I said softly. "Give me a job, and I will let him do it with me."

Harold looked at me with a sad smile. "Yes, I had a feeling you would want to sweetheart. You are a little angel of mercy, aren't you?. However the role I have in mind for you, the one we haven't discussed yet really doesn't require him."

"Please Harold," I asked him gently looking up into his eyes. My plead caused Harold to close his eyes a moment as if considering before looking down at me once more with tender eyes.

"Teddy," Harold said, his eyes still on me. "Do you want to stay, knowing you are expected to atone for yourself?"

"Yes," said Teddy.

"From this moment on, your sole responsibility in life is to tend to Aubrey. You will be her personal valet, her manservant. No more dresses. You will dress following your station. You will obey her, and receive everything through her. Your debit card will be confiscated and given to Aubrey to allow use as she sees fit. You will see to her every need and desire with respect and gratitude. You will be responsible for her quarters and her well being. You will protect her and see to it that she needn't shed any more tears. As for the latter, I think we all share in that charge. Do you agree to these terms?"

Teddy looked up at Harold, "Yes... I agree."

"Now ask Aubrey if she accepts you," said Harold.

"Aubrey-," Teddy started.

"Miss Fuller," Harold interjected.

"Miss Fuller," Teddy said. "I am so sorry. Will you please allow me a chance to make amends for what I have done to you."

He looks right into my eyes; those sad, sad eyes.

I nodded. "Yes, Theodore. I accept you," I said softly. I had not really considered all the ramifications that the offer included but it seemed right at the time.

***

Harold had moved me upstairs into the newly finished bedroom he had initially had remodeled for himself. A fully stocked wardrobe of clothing began arriving from Jack and Jill, and I suddenly found myself overwhelmed with choices. It seemed that I had been provided an outfit for any occasion, from a late-night chicken nugget run to having tea with the queen.

Teddy had gotten his wish to move into the new bedroom addition that connected to my new quarters. However, instead of serving Howard as he had hoped, he was now bound to me and my happiness.

Teddy was as good as his word. He helped me to bath and to dress, and kept the room clean, bed made. The only time I saw any sign of distress on his face was when he tended my wounds. I would have tried to spare him that, but it was Harolds orders, and both Teddy and I seemed to accept them.

It would have been easy to have been angry and resentful towards Teddy, and I doubted anyone would have blamed me. However, it was the small things that softened my heart. I had fallen asleep in a chair while reading only to awake with a blanket tucked in around me. I had also found out that he had spent time learning how to apply makeup and work my hair into proper styles, which quickly surpassed my limited ability.

I had learned a long time ago that busy hands can be therapeutic. I looked at the boy I had first met in the maids uniform, in cleanly pressed slacks and polo and thought much kinder of him than I had the first night. It was in the so overly careful way in which he placed the stick on band-aids to the burns on my knees and the fretting of their removal that I realized that I had already begun to forgive him.

***

In the days and weeks that followed, I visited and consulted with many doctors and specialists at Harold's behest. It was scary, every diagnosis and prognosis loomed over my head with the potentially disheartening news that contained severe complications may have to be faced. Through each appointment, Harold was there at my side, grilling the doctors on every possible outcome or procedure. I was thankful that he there with me. I had been staring at the doctor sitting in front of us, trying to absorb the words he was speaking, when Harold gave my knee a squeeze snapping me out of the daze.

"Doctor Issacburg," Harold said. "You are sure there is nothing that can be done to bring back the sensitivity? I don't mean only traditional therapies, is there anything reconstructive that can promote sensation?"

The doctor tilted his head, "Reconstructive? Do you mean gender reassignment surgery?"

Harold nodded, "Yes, I am just trying to identify any options."

The doctor shrugged and leaned forward, his hands laced together on the table. "Please understand, the nerve damage isn't going to disappear just because nerves get relocated. There is a real possibility that such surgeries run the risk of compounding the problem and doing further harm."

I leaned back in the chair.

The doctor sighed and continued. "If this were purely muscular, we would have more options, but for problems with the nervous system, we are more limited. The reduction in stimulatory sensation is going to be the deciding factor here. The body is good at fixing itself, and there is a chance that in time these complications could improve. I simply cannot recommend any evasive surgeries until we know the full extent of the long-term situation. I am sorry that there is not more we can do at this time."

"Of course Doctor," Harold said, helping me to my feet and escorting me towards the door with his hand on the small of my back. "Thank you, we value your expertise in this matter."

Samuel held the door to the car as we slid inside. Harold drew me under his arm and kissed the top of my head.

"Sir?" asked Samuel as he slid behind the wheel.

"Home please," Harold said.

Samuel regarded our expressions and said no more as he pulled out from under the awning and towards the main road.

***

"You don't have to do this... you have nothing to prove," said Harold at dinner.

"I know," I said. "I want to finish what I started. I want to see it through to the end, and right now, I feel cheated. I want to prove it to myself that I can do it."

Harold sighed but smiled. "I understand," he said. "Still, if you insist on completing the challenge, I would like to make one small alteration on the location and who would be watching over you. I am sure you understand my concern and would not hold that against me."

I conceded, "I am okay with that."

An hour later I was in Harold's spacious office. He had decided that my submission challenge would be conducted there with him to watch over me. He beckoned me to him. As I rounded his desk, I saw a cushion on the floor beside his chair. I had come to him in my softest pajamas with his permission as I was self-conscious and still healing. I stood there waiting for his commands. Tonight I was submitting myself to him, determined to give it my all. With each second the butterflies in my stomach grew increasingly active. They never quite captured the sensation in the books I had read before.

He spun around slowly in his chair to face me, a pen held against his lips. "Turn around Miss Fuller," he said to me in a voice that sounded like a soap opera star.

"Why Mr. Lockwood, are you trying to tie me up and seduce me?" I asked equally as dramatic.

"I, the evil Haroldo claim you as my prisoner, my innocent office wench and pencil sharpener," he said opening a drawer and retrieving a set of leather cuffs. One after another he buckled them onto my wrists.

I drew my hands back behind me to allow him to clip them together. "Oh help me, someone, he wants me to dust his tiny ficus!"

"Hey!" Said Harold pointing to the small pitiful potted ficus tree by the window. "You told me my ficus was big enough."

I nodded and teased. "I am sure that all the girls like your big mighty ficus."

He grinned at me. "I do believe you are ridiculing me, my dear. I will teach you what happens to those who mock a man's ficus! Down my stapler slave." He said guiding me carefully to kneel on the cushion. The cushion was soft but supported enough that I was able to kneel there comfortably.

He gestured to the open drawer of his desk. "Would you like to choose your torment?"

I looked in to find a drawer half full of gags of various styles and configurations. The ball gags came in what seemed every color imaginable, some with rubber balls, some with plastic, some were perforated, and one was even shaped like a taco. Harold pointed out and named some of the ones I was unfamiliar with. The medical gags looked evil to me. I giggled when he picked up a gag that had a bright pink rubber circle where the ball should be.

"That one looks the least menacing," I said, looking at it.

"Want to try this one?"

'Uh... sure?" I said apprehensively.

He chuckled and lowered the pink ring to my mouth. He made some adjustments to get it behind my teeth. I bit down lightly. The rubber ring was surprisingly firm and had very little give to it. He had me lean forward to reach the buckles behind my head. This brought my face very close to his crotch. The instant realization of the purpose and potential uses of the gag's design became incredibly evident in my mind.

"These are vendor samples from a specialty retailer called Pie Hole," Harold said.

I hadn't really heard him. My imagination had begun to run wild. In my mind's eye, Harold had started to unzip his pants and extracted his cock, sliding it into my helpless waiting mouth. I broke free of the spell as the buckle was finally set firmly in place behind my head and I was guided back into my upright kneeling position.

Harold looked at me. "I have never seen you blush so hard."