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Dan knocked weakly on Phil’s door, hoping that the older boy was home. He rested all his weight on the doorframe, barely able to support himself. Raising his fist, he knocked again, louder this time, and moments later he heard the sound of feet running down the stairs. The door flew open, and Phil smiled for a moment at seeing Dan, but his face fell when he saw the boy’s black eye. Not wanting to bombard him with questions on the doorstep, Phil ushered Dan in, sitting him down in the kitchen and grabbing an ice pack from the freezer.
“What happened,” Phil asked, though he had a fair idea already.
Dan took a deep breath, flinching when that seemed to hurt him. Phil suspected he had hurt his chest in some way, so grabbed him another ice pack. “I told my step-dad. He found my stuff, all the forms and clothes, so I told him,” Dan muttered.
“What did you tell him?”
“Everything.” He was clearly reluctant to say more, so he just turned back to Dan and tried to look after him as best he could. He helped the boy out of his binder, seeing now the obvious bruising on his ribs.
Phil looked sadly at him. “You should leave this off until you’ve healed, okay?” Dan looked upset by this, but nodded, knowing it was the right call.
Phil shook his head sadly. “You’re never going back there,” he vowed. “You’ll stay here until you can find a place, or you can move in for real if you’d like. The spare room is already set up for you. I’m not letting that man lay another finger on you.” Being mindful of his injuries, Phil pulled Dan close and wrapped him in a tight hug. He would protect this boy no matter what.