“Firstly, as you know, checkups will be every two weeks,” The doctor informs, “This is just to monitor his healing process and to follow up on his current treatment.”

“It’s an extensive process," Dr. Badakar took a careful breath, folding her hands together, "It can be difficult for patients," She exposed honestly, Seeing the way the couple stilled, the doctor continued on.

“I’m sure you’re already aware that within the span of time, we don’t see you, treatment and healing must be at home, yes? How has that been going?”

“Yes, we-” Jon attempts, "It's slow but a steady process," Swallowing down the word, blinking. 

Maywa steps in, “We help as much as we can,” She finishes softly.

The doctor’s firmness softens at the edges of her eyes to a kinder expression, “Of course, it can be difficult for anyone.” 

“I want to express that Mr. García care will be handled with as much diligence and care as his previous check-ups, I assure you, Mr. and Mrs. Canchasto,” Doctor Badakar assured, a calming smile gracing her distinct features.

The tension that held Maywa's features tight melted away by the newfound security, her fingers curling around a thin chain necklace sitting on her chest. 

“Today will be a mixture of treatment and a physical examination for Mr. García and any problems that need attention. Since I don't know much about his current state, that's all I can give you for now,” Doctor Badakar finishes. 

Isaias’ heart dropped to his stomach, churning. Jon and Maywa gave each other uneasy glances. 

“Thank you,” Maywa expresses, glancing at Jon with a mirroring fragile smile.

“I do want to add that Isaias is still underage and is allowed treatment with or without an adult present,” 

The effortless smile lines on Jon’s face stills, an icy chill washing over his once warm features. Creases deepened on the man’s face as he took in the information, a jolt of distressing unease coursing through him.

“I don’t think--” Jon began.

“If it is something Isaias wants, of course,” Dr Badakar smiled reassuringly, eyes settling on Isaias’ form, “Ultimately, it comes down to him,”

Jon’s shoulders tensed in discomfort as his chin dipped to a stiff nod. Shifting his weight to Isaias whose eyes stuck at the tip of his trainers.  

“Isaias?” Maywa quietly called, speaking out his name like an unreaching echo, Isaias couldn’t even look her in the eye, “Anything you decide, okay? As long as you’re comfortable, amor,” A firm larger hand on the middle of his back.

“I want to do it alone,” Isaias responded, tone empty.

“Okay,” 

There was no anger in her tone, simply the grievances of acceptance and understanding. Dizzy, Isaias slowly looked up, a ghost of a smile on her gently expressed face. 

“Maywa, por favor,” Jon whispered a plea, his features agonised.  

Maywa reached her hand into his empty one, giving it a tight squeeze, “Depende de él, Jon. You know that,”

Jon’s mouth parted as if words laid heavy on his tongue. Restless, his fingers drew back against his scalp, he frustratingly swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing. Unable to say a thing, his broad shoulders dropped.

“Okay,” Jon said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, “Okay,”

Dr Badakar rose from her chair, Jon and Maywa followed, “Thank you for understanding,”

“I can understand this was a difficult decision for the both of you,” She says compassionately, “You’ll have him right back as soon as everything is finished,” The doctor promised with a reassuring smile.

“Yes, thank you,” Jon said as Maywa gave a grateful nod as they were steered to the door by the nurse. 

The door closed right behind them. Isaias felt the echo travel through his mind as the inevitable sense of raw fear took over him.

Dr. Badakar sat back down turning to Isaias with a gentle smile, ”Please feel free to relax, Mr. García--”

“Just Isaias is fine,” Isaias softly corrected, swallowing a lump in his throat. 

“Of course, Isaias,” She smiles as the nurse returns once more, "I was hoping to drop the formalities. The first time someone called me 'Ma'am' I nearly tripped over myself,"

And that cracked a small smile. Dr. Badakar matched that with a winning curl of her lip before settling in a more serious manner.

“Before we start, I understand you've had a physical examination and a treatment before. If there’s anything you feel uncomfortable with, please do tell me and we will immediately stop.”

Isaias gave a terse nod, eyes squeezing shut.

“Let’s get you ready.”

With the sound of the loose chair wheels rolling, Isaias wipes his trembling fingers on his joggers as he stands, palms flush against the fabric. Legs aching at the pressure of his own weight, each step and shuffle of his trainers weighing heavier than it should. Till his palm met with thin lined paper against leather stiffness, feeling every grain and a sharp tinge of disinfectant. 

Isaias could barely understand the doctor's endless stream of words, like the tuning out of gentle rain, it all washed over him. Simply giving the barest of understood nods, shortcut replies as his own mind swirled with frightening turbulent thoughts. 

“Isaias, we can only go as far as you’re willing to go,” Dr Badakar gently said as he finally met her eyes, “Are you ready?”

Teeth set tightly, Isaias nodded numbly.

With a soft smile, she took a step to the side, “David,” Dr Badakar called, the clatter of metallic and the soft roll of wheels stopped next to the adjustable bed.

Coldness stills his body, prickling like unforgiving ice. Fingers twitch on his lap, the only reminder of movement his body gave him. Isaias can’t stop his mind from replaying the familiarity this gives him. Have we been here before? A voiceless echo, Isaias' throat aches. 

David gave a small friendly wave, “Hi,” Giving a toothy smile, “Let’s take this slow, okay?”

“Can you please remove your hoodie and t-shirt underneath?”

A low static sound pulsates, stomach churns as Isaias balls the fabric in his fingers, lifting the edge of his hoodie before sliding it off his upper body. Cool air sticks against his raw skin. 

Jaw clenched, knuckles straining. His head hung low, arms itching to close around his body. Isaias didn’t know what came first, the touch or the sudden flash of nauseating noise. 

“Arms up, please,” Dr Badakar asked.

Beige bandages stretched against purple skin, delicately peeled off by firm steady hands, each slight touch had muscles straining. Carefully taking the tight pressure of the long fabric away, uncovering the more grave injuries.

“There’s a lot of severe large-scale bruising, please bear with us, Isaias.”

The air tightened around Isaias’ neck. Unsuccessful bandages stuck against dried broken skin and open bloody scabs. Each second was dizzying. Isaias felt the cool touch of the metal press against tender flesh as the slicing sound of fabric being snipped away wrecked him with the brutality of his own reality. 

The static noise droned against his ears, a latex touch to the left side of his body swivelled his entire vision. Throb, throb, throb. Pounding against his ears to the roots of his teeth, Isaias' mind slammed against his skull as each prod swelled-up skin sent a sickening tremor. 

He didn’t want to. Fervent, grappling against every fibre of his being to not look. Neck stiff, chin creaking down. Flashes, the dirty ground, screams lodging at the back of his throat, knee searing numb. A soon layer of waxy sheen coated his trembling body. 

"Isaias-?"

Too hard to breathe right. Each inhale shallow enough to be met by another quick wheezed rasp, as if thick sand lodged in his lungs, burning, unable to swallow, or breathe.

“Stop, stop, Kamala he's not--”

Isaias couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe.

Stomach churning, chest heaving vicious chokes, tears pricked his eyes, blurring his vision, the room melted in front of his very eyes. As a metallic clatter crackled against the floor, feet messily stumbling forward.

“Isaias, you need to breathe--”

Isaias' knees tumbled onto the rigid floor, wheezing. Dreadful sickness drenches his throat, everything is ringing, breathing retching as his spine curls inwards. 

“Breathe, Isaias, breathe.”