Tim's POV of his first meeting of Fralith.
Thank you all for reading and support, either silent or loud!

If there was something more exciting to Tim than releasing patients from the hospital, it was meeting new ones. New patients meant new faces, new kiddo quirks, new chances to learn how best to coax out a grin, new lives to learn about and nurture as best as he could. The prospect always brought a smile to his face and lit his chest with warm sunlight. What made them laugh? What was their favorite thing to do? What silly song did they like to sing? He loved to find out, especially with this new placement.

This one wasn't just new. He was Brave Bud, the mysterious boy the news was raving about—and yes, he'd already given him a nickname and they hadn't even met—because he successfully stopped a kidnapping with a knife against a gun on his own. Brave Bud was already a special cookie, and, from the reports of his reactions to the other nurses, a spooked one. Hopefully, he could ease Brave Bud's skittishness—and get to know him in the process.

Smiling a little, Tim double checked the room number and wheeled his cart inside, nodding to the police officer by the door.

On the bed, the boy jerked at his arrival and scuttled back until he was pressed into the wall, holding his injured arm close to his body. Poor brave buddy was a bundle of skin and bones, cheekbones hollow and black hair falling around his face in a matted sheet. What was more startling were his vibrant magenta eyes flashing between the strands, almost like a stray cat in the beam of your phone's flashlight as it huddled under your car, ready to flee at a moment's notice.

Tim repressed the urge to raise his eyebrows. When the reports said 'unusual eye color', I wasn't expecting a completely undocumented eye color. Is it natural or a condition? I have to get a closer look. Wheeling his cart to the bedside, he waved his hand to the food on the cart, making sure to keep his movements slow enough to predict so as not to startle the little guy. "Hey there, bud. Hungry?"

Brave Bud blinked owlishly and pulled his lips back from his teeth. It wasn't a smile or a frown but something in between a grimace, a lot like a dog baring his teeth. This time he raised his eyebrows, a twinge of surprise vibrating down his spine. Unusual struck again. Just what kind of place did he come from to bare his teeth like that?

"Ferocious one, are you?" Tim said. Brave Bud just stared, wound up like a rubber band, so he pulled out a reassuring chuckle from his deep reserve and stepped closer. "Well, we better get some food into you before you eat someone."

Brave Bud leaned away from him, sharp eyes glinting through his strands of dark hair, gaze searching him as if he was a scanner and Tim was a barcode. His nose twitched and his gaze slid to the cart, his stomach audibly rumbling.

Aha. There it was: food, the best door to most kids' hearts. "Alright, alright. I'll speed up. And we can get to introductions after." If Brave Bud wanted to talk. If he didn't, befriending him would be a little harder. But hard never stopped him before. Sidling over to the controls, he reached down and pressed the up button on the bed, thoughts spinning along ways to break through to him.

As soon as the bed began to rise, Brave Bud's eyes flew wide and he yelped, scrambling to the foot of the bed with the speed of a spooked squirrel.

Tim's heart jerked with the oxygen tubes in Brave Bud's nose and he snatched his finger back. "Woah! Woah, bud. It's okay; it's just the bed. Look, see?" Please, please don't pull those tubes out! "This makes the bed rise up so you can sit." He pointed at the button and demonstrated it a few times, schooling his face and voice to not reflect the tension in his muscles. "See? It's not too bad. I promise you it can't hurt you." But the tubes can and will if you move any further away.

Brave Bud must have never seen an automatic bed before because he stared at it with large eyes, mouth slightly agape as if it had just told him the sun turned into a pancake and it was his job to eat it. Right... He should've guessed that'd be the case from Brave Bud's earlier freak out. At least he knew now.

After a few demonstrations, the shock seemed to fade and hunger drew Brave Bud's gaze to his supper. Using the momentary distraction, Tim positioned the upper half of the bed up so Brave Bud could sit and lifted up the tray from its hiding place, nodding reassuringly as Brave Bud jerked his attention back to him. "Rest your back here," he patted the raised part of the bed, "and I'll pull up the tray. Then you can eat."

Baring his teeth again, Brave Bud shrank back, hair screening his face and flingers fluttering in nervous patterns. After a few beats, he straightened and met his eyes briefly before looking away and, with obvious hesitation, reached out and patted the raised part of the bed as if he was calming a dragon likely to eat him.

"See? Perfectly safe." Tim nodded, patting the bed once more. That's it. "Now, if you sit there, I can pull up the tray for you."

Brave Bud glanced at him again, face scrunched up in the most adorable expression of confusion, rubbed his chest with a soft sigh, and cocked his head to the side like a curious bird, examining him from head to toe.

He still seemed indecisive, so Tim pulled the tray back and gestured at the empty spot. "Here." This wasn't the first time he'd dealt with kiddos squeamish about hospital beds, but Brave Bud's actions were different. He was afraid, yes, but held himself in a way that was ready for action—for defense—rather than a melty puddle of fear.

Measuring his expression again, Brave Bud huffed and dropped his gaze to the bed and eyed it warily. But, thankfully, he shuffled into position, moving gingerly to avoid jogging his injured arm.

When Brave Bud was in place, Tim positioned the tray over his lap and flashed him a smile. "There we go. Not so scary, is it? Now, for the food." Reaching over, he gathered the food from the cart and placed each item on the tray as he named it. "Beef stew, hunk of bread, a bit of cheese, and orange juice; a meal fit for a king." And better than my lunch. Too bad the hospital doesn't treat us like we're malnourished. Lunch breaks would be that much better if they did. He chuckled to himself.

A light lit up in the boy's eyes as he surveyed the pickings, and his stomach grumbled the classic, 'hurry up already!' rumble. Instead of diving in like he had expected him to, Brave Bud looked up at him, lip bitten and apprehension scrawled all across his face.

The lightness of amusement died, once again, in Tim's chest. He knew that expression all too well. It was the, can I have permission to eat this? look. The, please, please don't say no because I really, really want this look. The, my parents (or guardians) are really strict and I'm nervous that my needs will be pushed aside again for the sake of a power trip look. He'd seen it all too many times on a little boy he nursed for months while his parents—or rather, parent and surrogate stepmother who wasn't even legally married to the father—warred for custody and the CPS pulled up evidence after evidence of exactly why they should not keep it.

And now, that same look was on Brave Bud's face. Invisible grime gathered under his skin, reeking of the horrible things done in this world. This...this is what he disliked the most, seeing evidence of brutality, harm, hurt, and pain on innocent kiddos such as Brave Bud. How could anyone do such things to these little humans? How could anyone not see the soulful look in their eyes as their innocence was drowned under pain and emotions they didn't know how to handle and still continue to heap burdens on them?

He couldn't understand it, and he didn't need to. He wasn't going to do the same—he would do his best to help instead of hurt and step into the gap where others who should have been there weren't. It was the least he could do.

Giving him a firm nod, Tim waved a hand at the food, pulling up a chair and sitting down so he was at the same level as Brave Bud. "Yep, it's all yours, Bud. Bet it looks like a feast compared to what you've been eating." Which is likely scraps, if you've been living on the streets for a while, or wherever you were before.

Brave Bud hesitated, then without breaking eye contact, nabbed the bread and lifted it towards his mouth.

Tim smiled, nodding. That's it. All yours. Whatever horrible things have happened to you, they will not happen here. I'm going to take care of you. You're safe here, no matter what.

A grin spread across Brave Bud's face, eyes filling with delight. He stuffed nearly half of the hunk of bread into his mouth and chewed, bread crumbs easily wiggling between his lips and spilling onto the tray.

He chuckled, a little pressure lifting from his heart as he unleashed his own grin. That was a good sign things weren't too serious. "Bread for the win, eh?"

"Mmmph," Brave Bud mumbled through another mouthful of bread. Once the bread was gone, he surveyed his options and picked the orange juice. He proceeded to poke, prod, and peer at the cup like it was made of cotton candy and he couldn't fathom how his fingers weren't sticky and the orange juice wasn't leaking through.

Strange. Maybe he'd never seen a cup like this before? Or orange juice? Or the automatic bed? Whatever was the case, Brave Bud seemingly decided against the juice and put the cup down, turning to the stew. Without so much as a pause, he picked up the bowl, lifted it to his mouth, and gulped down half of the contents as if it was cold lemonade on a hot summer's day, not steaming hot stew freshly out of the thermos.

"Woah, careful there, bud! You're going to burn yourself!" Tim reached towards him and paused, watching astounded as Brave Bud finished the entire bowl in roughly one minute flat without a single wince and settled back with a contented smile. "Wow," Tim breathed, mouth slightly open, the warm touch of awe filling his stomach. "I...I have never seen in my entire career anyone devour piping hot stew that fast before. You, bud, are seriously talented."

Brave Bud simply yawned in answer.

Right then. A grin poked at his mouth again and he shook his head slowly and stood up, starting to clear off the tray. That stew must've burned something, right? Or maybe it wasn't as hot as it had looked. But then again, it had been steaming, and bowls of stew didn't just fake steam to prolong being eaten every now and again. No, Brave Bud really did down a bowl of piping hot stew in record time. What a special cookie he was!

Special, yes, his brain muttered, but is the skill learned due to a fear of having his food taken away or lost if he doesn't eat it fast enough? Inwardly, he frowned at the thought. That could be it, but way to crash the mood, brain.

With a sniffle, Brave Bud rubbed his eyes, yawning again with a little squeak at the end and drawing him out of his thoughts.

Tim brushed some crumbs off the tray and tucked it back into place, watching as Brave Bud wiggled into the pillows, patting his stomach. It seemed his stomach needed to do battle with the stew and needed all the energy it could get now. "Ah, the food's catching up with you, eh? Let's get you settled and you can sleep off your feast." Stifling a chuckle at the thought of a stomach catapulting globs of acid at a tide of tiny warriors made out of stew, he placed a hand over the bed's controls. "I'm going to lower the bed now, okay?"

The only answer Brave Bud gave was another yawn, so he lowered the bed. It only got a little flinch and a grimace, but otherwise Brave Bud remained calm. Good; a little progress towards making the bed seem less scary. "Sleep well, Brave Bud," he said as he tucked the blanket over Brave Bud, taking care not to touch him or seem threatening. May your dreams be full of piping hot stew and no nightmarish memories. He smiled and pointed to the call button. "Press the button if you need me."

The smile remained on his face long after he left and made his way down the quickly quieting hall, a lightness dancing over his heart and warmth spreading inside of him like a hot cup of tea after a long cold day. What a special one Brave Bud was. He was so brave and bright, facing all the new things for him with caution and curiosity instead of outright fear, even though he sensed a darker past behind his eyes.

Already, he knew this kiddo was the kind who made life interesting in every way possible, leaving no day without something funky and fun happening. Yes, he would enjoy taking care of this little Brave Bud. And he couldn't wait to tell his wife, Noémie, all about him.