Date: Sun, 05 Mar 2006 15:10:04 -0500
From: Miguel Sanchez <miguel_sanchez55@hotmail.com>
Subject: What Happened to Neil Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and that of love. Any resemblance to
actual places, events, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This story may contain erotic and/or sexually explicit behavior between
consenting teens. If it is illegal for you to, or you find this sort of work
offensive, don't download or read it!

The people in this story do not use protection because diseases don't exist
here. However, in our world they do so please use caution and protection.

This story is protected by copyright. It may not be downloaded or copied for
other than your private enjoyment and may not be changed in any way without
the expressed written consent of the author. This story may not be put on
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I reply to all emails, except flames. You may write me at
miguel_sanchez55@hotmail.com

I hope you enjoy this story.
Miguel Sanchez

What Happened to Neil

Chapter 1

I was driving home from the ASPCA when my cell phone rang. I pushed the
button and said, "Hello."

"Hi Mike," the voice said. "It's Connie. We have another one for you."

"How bad," I asked.

"Not sure," she said. "I just got here myself but from the mumblings going
on, it's pretty bad. This might not be as short term as you like."

"Alright," I said. "You know I can't refuse you. Where is he?"

"At Memorial," she said.

"OK," I said. "I'll be there in about half an hour."

I pushed the off button and changed lanes so I could head over to Memorial
Hospital. I'm Mike Marshall and I'm a short term foster parent for special
needs boys.

Ever since I was medically retired from the fire department, I wanted
something to do that wasn't too strenuous because of the number of
operations I've had on my back. When I'm not fostering, I'm a volunteer at
the animal shelter working with the cats. When I've had a bad night or just
need some time to think, the cats provide me with quiet companionship.

Connie Baker is my case worker who assigns the kids to me and she's probably
one of the few females who know my other side that up until a few years ago
was a deep secret. The first boy she ever assigned to me was a 13 year old
who was badly beaten by his father. His mother did everything she could to
stop it but finally after calling 911; she laid him out with a cast iron
frying pan.

The police arrived and took both of them to jail and the boy to the
hospital. I had been a foster parent for just a few months and up until
then, I hadn't told her I was gay. When I arrived at the hospital, we went
into the boy's hospital room together so we could find out what happened.
That's when we learned why his father went off on his tangent. Seems he
forgot to clear his history on his computer and his father found one of the
gay sites he regularly visits.

When I heard this, I wasn't sure if the boy would want another man to be his
foster parent. I figured the only way I could work with him was to let him
know I was gay myself but this brought on another problem. I took Connie
aside and said, "Look Connie, I think I can help him but it means telling
you something and it might make me unfit to you as a foster parent."

"What Mike?" She asked.

I looked at the floor then over to the boy in bed then said, "I'm gay too.
I've known it for a long time but kept is a deep secret. When my father
found out, he was ballistic but I was 16 and could handle myself."

"You being gay won't make you unsuitable as far as the department is
concerned but you just won't be able to adopt," she said. "We get boys that
have experimented and those, who like him, are in crisis."

I went over and introduced myself to him and he immediately cowered. I put
my hand on his and said, "Son, I know what you're going through. I went
through it myself but not as bad as you have."

He looked at me unsure of what I meant but then said, "Did your Dad find
your private things?"

"No," I said giggling. "This was before computers. He just found me with my
boyfriends."

"Whoa," he said. "I bet you really got it."

"Not really," I said. "See, I was 16 at the time and bigger than we was."

He looked down and said, "You're lucky, I'm just a little squirt."

I lifted his chin up then said, "You're not a little squirt. You're going to
need a place to stay and someone to look out for you for a while. Connie
here wants to place you with me. What do you think about that?"

"What about my Mom," he asked. "She didn't do anything. Hell, she was trying
to get him to stop beating me."

"We know that son," Connie said. "When she gets that taken care of, we'll
get you two back together."

"Oh," he said. "Sure, I'd like that. I've never known anyone else who is gay
and it might be nice to have someone to talk with about things."

Well that was my first foster son and how Connie found out I was gay. Since
then, I've fostered about a dozen boys with most of them going back with
their parents. A few stayed until they turned 18 and went out on their own
but I only had two of those.

I pulled into the hospital parking lot then went to find Connie. She was
waiting for me in the lobby and I could see she was really upset. "Hey
girlfriend," I said smiling. "What's up?"

She shook her head and said, "Mike, this is the worst case I've ever seen."

"How bad," I asked.

"Come with me and we can talk with one of his doctors," she said heading
towards the elevator.

We went up to the third floor and went into the PICU. We went past several
rooms and stopped outside one where I saw a badly injured child. I looked at
Connie and said, "My God, what happened to him? Did he get run over by a
truck?"

"He probably would have been better off if he had," a voice said.

I turned and looked at where the voice came from and there was a doctor
standing behind us. "I'm Dr. French, the young man's Orthopedic Surgeon. Can
you come with me and I can fill you in on what we know so far."

Connie looked at the doctor and said, "This is Mike Marshall. He will be the
boy's foster parent when he's able to leave here."

"That's going to be a while," Dr. French said. "Now here's what we know.
Paramedics found the kid dumped outside near the entrance to the ER and
brought him in. He was barely alive but we managed to get him stable in the
trauma bay then get him to CT scan. We saw a lacerated liver, a ruptured
spleen, a collapsed lung that was re-inflated in trauma, a broken ulnar,
fractured radius and humorous, tib/fib fracture and a fractured femur. We
also noticed a skull fracture but there's no bleeding and we have a
neurosurgeon following him. When I saw him someone had really worked him
over. The trauma surgeon removed his spleen and repaired the laceration to
his liver then I went to work. I pinned the bones back and he's in casts but
I don't know what other damage has been done. The neurosurgeon suspects
there will be some deficits mentally but we won't know the extent of them
until he wakes up."

"How long has he been here?" I asked.

"He was found about 7 last night," Dr. French said. "He was brought into
surgery at 7:30 and I finally finished up on him about 3 this morning."

Connie looked at me and said, "I decided to wait on calling you until we
knew weather or not he was going to make it."

"Alright," I said. "Are you keeping him sedated?"

"No," Dr. French said. "We want him to wake up even though we know he's
going to be in pain."

"Can I see him?" I asked.

We went into his room and I immediately ran into the bathroom and threw up.
I'd seen a lot of things during my career but this was by far the worst. I
just couldn't imagine how someone could do this to another human being, much
less a child. "Are you alright?" Dr. French asked.

I dried my face then said, "Yeah, I am now."

I went over and stood beside his bed and looked at him. His face was badly
bruised and both eyes were blackened and swollen. I closed my eyes and tried
to get a mental picture of him and I knew when the bruises cleared up, he
would be a very good looking boy. "How old is he?" I asked.

Dr. French shook his head and said, "I've never been a good judge of that."

I lifted the covers and his gown and looked at his crotch. I would guess he
was somewhere between 13 and 15 judging by the amount of pubic hair he has.
I can't tell how big he is because of the tube in his penis. I placed the
covers back over him then asked, "Am I going to be governed by the visiting
hours here?"

"No," Dr. French said. "I want someone here when he wakes up."

"Alright," I said. "I'll come back in the morning. I don't think he's gonna
wake up much before then."

Connie and I left the PICU not saying anything to each other. As soon as we
were alone however I found a place to sit and broke down crying. Connie came
over and sat beside me and said, "I know Mike; I've already shed all the
tears I have right now."

"How could someone do this to a child?" I babbled. "I thought I'd seen just
about everything when I was a paramedic but this beats it all."

"I know Mike," she said. "Do you still want to foster him?"

"Oh hell yeah," I said looking up at her. "He's going to have a lot of
problems both mentally and physically and I have the time to devote to him."

"That's what I thought when I assigned him to you," Connie said as we got up
and headed for the elevator.

We talked some more as we headed for the front door then we set our separate
ways. I got in my car and headed home trying to concentrate on the road and
not let my thoughts drift back to that boy in the unit. I managed to do a
pretty good job because I arrived home in one piece. I pulled into the
driveway then parked and entered my house. It was almost 8 and I'd missed
lunch but for some reason, I wasn't hungry. I put on the television and
tried to get engrossed in something there but that's when my thoughts
started going back to the hospital.

I knew it was going to be a very long evening so I took my evening meds a
little early then hit the shower. I was drying myself off when my stomach
decided it was empty and needing filling. I went into the kitchen and tried
to figure out what I wanted. I looked in the freezer and decided to have a
couple of pot pies.

While they were cooking I tried to watch television again but there wasn't
really anything on that I was interested in. I went upstairs looking into
the other bedroom and thought about what I would need to do to make this his
room. I went inside and looked at what was there, a bed, dresser,
combination desk with a computer area and room for him to do his homework.
It dawned on me that he might be either bed ridden or in a wheelchair so a
PC might not be practical.

I heard the buzzer go off telling me my dinner was ready so I turned the
light off and went downstairs. I took the pies out and dumped them onto a
plate to let them cool. I had a laptop that I hadn't used in a while and
thought it would be good for him if he was bedridden or in a wheelchair.

After I ate, the medication started kicking in so I decided to go to bed and
sleep. I quickly did my business then slid in between the sheets. I turned
the lights off and let the medication do its thing.

I woke about 6 and had to pee but I knew there was no going back to sleep. I
pulled some sweatpants on and headed downstairs and put on a pot of coffee.
I put on the morning news then went outside and got the paper. I was
thinking about having Connie go to the press but then who ever did this
could take off if they learned he was alive.

After my second cup, I went and shaved and got dressed then decided to go to
the hospital. I sat with the boy for a few hours when Dr. French came in.
"Where are the clothes he was wearing when he was brought into the ER?" I
asked.

"They were cut off him," he said. "I think the police took them."

I wanted to look through his pants and see if anything was there that might
help tell me who he was. "Oh ok," I said. "I was hoping there was something
that might tell us who he was."

"They did find a piece of paper with a name on it but they don't know if it
was his name or that of someone else," the doc said.

"What was the name," I asked.

"Andrew, I think," Dr. French said heading out the door.

I sat with him until about noon then went down the cafeteria and had a
little lunch then returned until 5. I went home and fixed dinner then
thought about the name "Andrew." More than likely it was just a scrap of
paper he picked up and the name didn't mean anything.

I sat with him everyday for the next three days and there wasn't any change
in his level of consciousness. I was there when Dr. French came in with
another doctor. He introduced him as Dr. Hadley, the neurosurgeon working
with the boy. He examined him and said, "He is slowly starting to come out
of it. But it still could be a while."

"Do you think another CT would tell you anything?" I asked.

"No," Dr. Hadley said. "His pupils are reacting normally to light. If they
weren't then I would."

That made sense. Dr. French checked his casts and had his foley changed then
left to see other patients while I continued to sit and wait. He'd been
there for five days now and I was wondering why no one had been looking for
this boy. He had to have parents somewhere and surely by now they must be
missing him.

I figured I'd leave a little early and call Connie on my way home. I was
about to go down to the cafeteria when I saw a slightly overweight police
officer standing at the nurse's station. He turned and headed for our room
then when he saw me he asked, "How's he doing?"

"All things considered, he's doing pretty good," I said allowing the officer
to come in.

"I was the officer who responded here when the hospital called," he said.
"I'm Sergeant Tom O'Farrell."

"Mike Marshall," I said extending my hand to him. "I'm his foster parent.
Have there been any enquiries about him?

"Not in the city," he said. "None of the surrounding cities have contacted
us either."

"That's strange," I said. "Someone's bound to be missing him."

Some of the bruises around his face were starting to fade and I could see
just what a cute kid he was. "We're checking the missing person's reports
every day lad," he said with a hint of Scottish brogue.

"I guess that's all you can do," I said brushing his brown hair away from
his eyes."

"I have to get back on the street," the Sergeant said. "I'll check back on
him in a couple of days. I'm glad they have someone looking after him
already."

He left and I couldn't help but hold his hand in mine. I sat there and
stroked it for several minutes when I remembered I wanted some coffee. I
went downstairs and got some coffee then as I was walking back to the unit,
I thought about what Sgt. O'Farrell had said. I forgot there were a couple
of surrounding cities.

When I returned, Connie was sitting in my chair holding his hand lost in
thought. "Not much change," I said walking in.

"I know," she said rubbing his arm.

"A police officer was here earlier," I said sitting beside her.

"I know," she said. "I passed him on my way in. I need to get back to work.
I just had to see how he was doing."

I sat there the rest of the day then headed home to eat and clean the house.
I'd let things go but I felt it was time to get busy. I fixed dinner then
relaxed watching television when the phone rang. "Hello," I said.

A voice on the other end said, "Mr. Marshall, this is the head nurse on the
PICU."

"Yes ma'am," I said. "Is something wrong with the boy?"

"There is a change," she said. "It appears he's trying to wake up. I knew
you would want to be called."

"Thank you," I said turning off the television. "I'll be there shortly."

`I couldn't believe it,' I thought. `I just hope there isn't a neurological
problem.'

I locked the door and hurried off back to the hospital. I got to the PICU
and Dr. French and Dr. Hadley were standing there as Dr. Hadley poked him on
his foot.

I walked over by his head and rubbed his hand silently trying to will him
awake. Dr. French said, "We're going to let him rest for a bit. I'll be back
in a little while and check him one more time before I go home."

I went and talked with the head nurse for a few minutes then had her bring
me some coffee then went to take his hand again. I sat down and took his
hand and started rubbing it. I looked over and saw the nurse coming in with
my coffee then I felt him squeeze my hand. I shot up and said, "Do that
again."

Once more I felt him gently squeeze my hand. The nurse set my coffee on his
table as I said, "He's awake."

She ran around and his eyes were still closed but I said, "Squeeze my hand
son."

He squeezed it yet again then I said, "Turn the lights down. I think they're
hurting his eyes."

The nurse dimmed the lights and I watched as his eyes eased open a little. I
held his hand and smiled as his eyes focused on me. Once I was sure his eyes
had focused I said, "Hi there. You've had a lot of people worried about
you."

He tried to speak but all he could get out was a weak "Ugh."

"I think he needs a little sip of water," I said still rubbing the boy's
hand.

The nurse got him some water then he said after he sipped a little, "Um, my
head hurts some."

She moved his hair out of his face and said, "We'll get you something for
that."

While the nurse went out to get the doctor I looked at him and said, "Do you
know where you are?"

"Looks like a hospital," he said. "Who are you?"

"My name is Mike," I said. "What's yours?"

He started to speak then stopped then started again then said softly, "I...I
don't know."

The tears started rolling down his cheeks as I said, "It's OK son. You've
been through a lot and you've had a bad blow to you head so it's no wonder
things seemed scrambled. I'll be right back."

I went over to the nurse's station as Dr. French and Dr. Hadley came into
the unit. They started going to the room when I said, "Over here please."

"I hear he's awake," Dr. French said.

"Yeah he is," I said. "There is a problem though. He doesn't know who he is.
He does know he's in a hospital but I wouldn't place bets he knows the name
of it."

Dr. Hadley said, "I said there might be deficits. I want to check his
reflexes and strength, and then I'll leave him alone."

We walked back in and immediately went to his head. He looked at me and
said, "Who are they?"

Dr. French was by his head on the other side of the bed so I said, "This is
Dr. French. He fixed your arm and leg."

Dr. French spoke to him softly him and asked, "How are you feeling? Do you
hurt anywhere?"

The boy turned his head and said, "My head hurts a little and so do my arm
and leg."

"Alright," he said. "I can get you something for that. This is Dr. Hadley.
He is going to take a little look at you then we'll let you rest."

Dr. Hadley stepped up and took his hand and said, "Squeeze it as hard as you
can."

The boy did as he was asked. He responded well to everything the doctor
asked of him. Dr. Hadley looked at the boy and said, "I understand you don't
remember what your name is. Is this correct?"

"Un huh," the boy said. "It's like I can then I can't. What's wrong with
me?"

Dr. Hadley gently rubbed his hair, "You've been through a lot. We know what
your injuries are but we don't know how you got them or why it happened.
Don't worry about that right now. With time, it should come back to you but
right now, just concentrate on getting better."

Dr. French continued, "That's right. Mike here, will be with you during the
day and he will help you in any way he can."

The Doctors talked with the boy a little more then they left and went back
to the nurse's station. I walked out and asked Dr. French, "Can you write an
order to remove his foley? He'll probably want that out of him soon."

"Just make sure he urinates," Dr. Hadley said. "I'll see you in the
morning."

"Now that he's awake, maybe I'll transfer him out of here tomorrow," Dr.
French said. "I think I might need to have a psychiatrist come in and talk
with him."

"I'd go easy on that right now," I said. "He's just coming to grips with all
this. Let's let his injuries heal then we can work on his memory."

He nodded his head then left the unit. I went back and sat with the boy. I
looked at him and he looked totally lost. He turned his head and looked at
me, "Why are you here?"

"Well son," I said. "I'm your foster parent. Since we don't know what is
going on, you're going to need someone to care for you until we can find
your parents."

I noticed him wincing and his hand under the covers. "What's this thing in
me?"

"That's to let you go pee," I said. "They put that in you when you were
unconscious so you could go."

"Do you think they could take it out?" He said.

I pushed the button for the nurse and then asked, "Can he get his foley
out?"

She went out the look at his chart then returned wearing a pair of rubber
gloves. She removed the covers and when she lifted his gown he turned red
knowing a woman was seeing his boyhood. She quickly removed the tube and
explained that he might dribble a little until his sphincter had a chance to
close.  She also told the boy that it might burn some the first time he peed
and not to worry about that. She then left us to talk a little more.

We sat and talked about nothing in particular when his arm and leg started
really bothering him. I again rang for the nurse and she came in with his
pain medication and a new bag in IV solution. She hung the fluids then gave
him the medication into the tubing. I held his hand and watched as the
medication took effect and he drifted off to sleep.

I headed home thinking about a number of different things. The first thing
was to figure out what to call him. I know calling him son all the time
would get old. Another thing would be what would happen when he was ready to
leave the hospital. Would he really want to stay with me? Another thing was
what happens when his parents come into the picture? I know they're his
parents, but to him they're strangers. I pulled into the drive way and went
right to my room. I was tired and I had a feeling this was going to be a
very long day. I quickly did my business then crawled into the bed for some
much needed sleep after setting my alarm for 7.

It seemed like I had only slept a very short while when the alarm was waking
me up. I hurried into the bathroom to pee then went out to the kitchen to
put on the coffee. I went back to my room and quickly showered and shaved
while the coffee was dripping.

After guzzling down two cups, I hurried out the door to get back to the boy.
When I got to his room he was holding onto his covers while another nurse
was trying to pull them down. "What's the problem here?" I asked as she let
go of the covers.

"I'm here to give him a bed bath," she said.

"Mike, I don't want her seeing me naked," the boy said.

"A reasonable request," I said. "Weren't you told that I would be here?"

"Well yes," she said. "I've seen many children before when I've bathed them
so it's not like it's something I've never seen."

"And mine is something you will never see," the boy quipped.

I looked at her and said, "I think you should just leave him alone. I'll
have a talk with the head nurse. I am quite capable of cleaning him up
myself."

She stormed out of the room as the boy said, "Thanks Mike. I didn't think I
could have held onto them much longer."

"No problem kiddo," I said. "I'll let the head nurse and charge nurse know
that I'll clean you up when you need it. Is that alright with you?"

He turned a little red then said, "I guess so Mike. I'm gonna be in these
casts for quite a while, aren't I?"

"I would hate to get near you if you decided to wait until they came off," I
said smiling at him.

"I'd really rank myself too," he said as I went to close the curtains around
the windows.

A nurse knocked then came in with a wash basin, soap, washcloths and towels.
After she left, I eased the covers down to his waist then undid the snaps on
the gown and removed it. I lifted his covers up a little then reached under
with a towel to cover his crotch. I slid the covers down a little more then
wet the cloth and put soap on then gently started washing his face. "You
mean you've never had someone give you a bath in bed before?"

"Not since I was a kid," he said as I was rinsing his face.

We talked while I washed him. When I got to his crotch I said, "You wanna
try to do this yourself?"

"He shook his head, "I need two hands to do that. I trust you."

I removed the towel exposing his uncut manhood. I lifted his tool and gently
started washing it with the cloth then gently pulled the foreskin back. As I
started washing the head, he started getting erect. I quickly finished
washing it then rinsed it. By the time I was ready to dry it, he was fully
hard and his face beet red. I quickly dried it then said, "Don't be
embarrassed son, it happens and yours isn't the first erect penis I've ever
seen."

I got a clean gown for him and covered his body so he wouldn't catch a
chill. He smiled at me and said, "Thanks Mike. It feels good to be clean.
Can you get my butt too?"

In my haste to get his dick done and covered, I forgot about his back and
butt. I put his rail up and went around to the other side of the bed and
dropped that one then carefully rolled him onto his side. As he held on with
his good arm, I washed his back. When it came time to do his butt I said,
"I'm going to have to spread your cheeks kiddo."

"It's OK Mike," he said.

I lifted his cheek and washed his butt and quickly got him dry and rolled
back over. His gown had shifted exposing his still hard dick. I covered it
up and said, "Sorry abut that son."

"It's OK," he said. "My balls feel sore."

Now I knew what was going on and I also knew there was no way he could
relieve himself there in the unit. I looked at him and said, "I know the
reason for that son. I can step out if you want some privacy."

He was about to answer when there was a knock on the window. I covered him
up and opened the curtain as Dr. French started to come into the room.
"Morning guys," he said. "Ah, bath time I see."

"Mike got me washed up," the boy said. "I didn't want some nurse doing it."

"I can understand that," the doc said.

"Mike I gotta pee," the boy said.

I got him his jug and lifted the covers so he could go. I had to hold the
jug while he put his tool inside. No sooner had that happened when he really
cut loose. I waited until his was finished then took the jug out. "500cc's,"
I said. "No wonder you had to go."

"I see you can go by yourself," Dr. French said. "How would you like to get
out of here and into a private room?"

"Can Mike still stay with me?" he asked.

"I'm not gonna leave you," I said ruffling his hair.

To be continued