And The Silver Spoon

Your world stops spinning.

You have a frozen, horrified, pale look on your face, looking Apex up and down in raw dread.

You see blood. Lots and lots of blood. You see bruises. You see dark curly hair mixing with the blood and sweat on Apex's forehead.

But that's not what's really stumping you.

Because as you look down at Apex, all you hear is Mary's voice.

All you feel is her disappointment.

Taken from her son by death, helpless in preventing him from ending up in your care. Helpless in saving him from your magnet of hurt.

"...Theo?"

Theo heaves pain-filled breaths at the sound of your voice from the ground where you laid him down. When the idea of Theo being Apex wasn't even in the question.

He opens his mouth to speak to you, a stream of blood slowly dripping down the corner of his mouth. You shake your head profusely.

"Oh, God," you start. You can't find the words to keep going.

Intervene. Don't intervene. Prevent it. Don't prevent it.

It makes no difference in the end. Theo still ends up hurt.

"I need..."

The plea is enough to snap you out of your paralyzed stupor.

"It's okay," you force out impulsively, scooping him up in your arms.

This is messy. And you have a decision to make.

• Take him downstairs. Dress him in civilian clothes. Rush him to the hospital right away.
• Don't risk questions from social services. You caused this, you should fix it. Try to treat him yourself.