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The following morning, Engineer went to check up on Scout, as always. The boy didn't even look at him as Engineer snapped on a pair of latex gloves and slid his hips on top of a bedpan. He pulled down the boy's boxers with an awkward, muttered apology, and left the cellar to give the poor kid some privacy. He retrieved it after a short while, washed it out, gave Scout a quick, modest sponge bath, and left again to retrieve Scout's breakfast.

The first few days were hard. Scout used to try to talk to him, then. He would sob and plead to be released. Try to appeal to the better side of Engineer's nature. Would cling desperately to his every visit, would hail the man as a savior, and eventually even broke down to the point where he'd tearfully admit everything Spy was doing to him, unaware that Engineer already knew for the most part.

Engineer, though, never spoke. He acted as if he didn't even listen. What else was he going to do? He couldn't save the kid. Not now, not ever. Removing himself from the entire, ugly reality of what was happening was the only way to keep himself sane.

A smarter man wouldn't have taken the job to play nurse for Scout in the first place. But Engineer would be damned if he ever trusted Spy to care enough for human life to treat his victim after his abhorrent encounters. It was just something that would never happen. Scout was his burden now.

Engineer poured some gruel into an empty bowl, brow furrowed in agitation. He couldn't help remembering the last time Scout had spoken to him. It'd been after a few days of Engineer coming twice daily to clean and care for him.

The first few minutes went as always. Scout was painfully admitting what had transposed the night before, as if the bruises didn't speak for themselves. Engineer was trying desperately to tune him out, when it happened.

"Ya dun efen care, do ya?"

Engineer wondered how silence could be so deafening. He'd only been able to stare at Scout, stunned at the soft, quivering accusation. Scout glared up into his eyes with his lip trembling and fresh tears streaming down his broken face.

"Why do ya efen come he'ah?"

There was no way to respond to that. Engineer couldn't respond with something like, "Because Spy pays me to," but what else would he say? He wanted to say something else like, "Because I DO care!" but if he really did, he would have stopped being so selfish and broken the kid out earlier.

There had been a long, awkward silence as Scout stared resolutely into Engineer's eyes while the man opened and closed his mouth dumbly like a freshly caught bass. Eventually, Scout gave up and lowered his eyes to the floor again. End of conversation.

Engineer's mind flickered back to present day. He stared down at the strange, warm, mushy mixture in his bowl as he made his way back to the cellar. Spy had been particularly specific when he told Engineer what to feed Scout.

"Rice and corn. You can grind them together while dry, then put them to boil. Or you can cook the rice and mash canned corn into it until you get a uniform consistency. It doesn't matter which. It will be just enough to keep his body going, and his mind weak."

He'd wanted to sprinkle a bit of salt into the mixture, but he couldn't. Not yet. Spy could still be watching him. He had to play his cards right.

He was standing in front of Scout now, spoon in hand. He knelt by the silent captive's side, and offered a bite of the gruel. To his surprise, Scout didn't move. He didn't even acknowledge the presence of food.

This made Engineer feel uncomfortable. He cleared his throat awkwardly and tried again to spoon-feed the boy, but Scout just looked away from it quietly.

Usually, Scout would be so hungry, he'd be wolfing the stuff down by then. Engineer panicked and began checking the boy's forehead incase he had a fever, then checked his pulse and both of his main injuries. His mouth was still swelling up like crazy – maybe that could have been what it was? Somehow Engineer doubted it. He was sure Scout's mouth had been hurting plenty for the last few days, but he'd still been eating fine.

A few uncomfortable minutes ticked by, Scout silently staring at the wall and Engineer nervously wringing his hands and hoping Scout would change his mind and eat. Eventually, he rose to his feet and began making his way back to the stairs, deeply troubled.

"Wait."

Engineer stopped, shocked at the voice that should have been Scout's but was indisputably not. It sounded like dead leaves being blown across pavement. He turned around. Scout was looking up at him. Eyes wide. Suddenly lucid. Pleading. Frightened and vulnerable.

"Dun leafe… Nah yet… Please…"

Engineer fumbled around, uncomfortable with the anxious silence. Finally, he settled for an, "I'll… be back." A pause. "Promise."

He left regrettably, but quickly. He could feel Scout's eyes on him all the way back to the door.

He couldn't. Not yet. But he would be back. That afternoon, of course, for Scout's second feeding, but that wasn't what he meant.

Scout, not knowing the stocky older man had meant anything different, slumped against the wall, too exhausted to even cry anymore.