Stay Close

Nine days.
That was how long Shiloh Abercrombie had spent lying in this basement.
At least he was fairly sure that was how long it had been. Time seemed to drag out in here. It could have been nine days, could have been nine years for all he knew.
Nine days ago he'd been attacked walking home from a night spent out at his favorite bar. He had no clue where his attacker had came from or why they'd chosen him but the one thing he was sure of was that the man was definitely not human.
He found himself brutally raped in that alley, left to lie there until either someone found him or he gained the strength to get back up again. But Shiloh had made the mistake of cursing the man when he started to leave, insisting that he had gotten a good glimpse of his face and would be turning him in to the authorities.
And that was how he'd found himself beaten unconscious, waking up several hours later chained up in the corner of this basement, the same position he still laid in now.
Through his nine days of imprisonment, he'd learned that apparently the man wasn't a man at all, like he'd suspected. He was a werewolf. It was a home of a pack of werewolves that he was currently captured in.
He'd also learned that abducting a human to use as a sex slave had not been the plan. His rape had been by the newest of the pack who had lost control of himself and then panicked. But now that he was tied up here, no one seemed to plan on letting him go either.
Once every few hours he would find himself subjected to more agony as one of the wolves came down to have their way with him. Just yesterday he had tried to escape when one of the wolves had unchained him briefly, and this was why he was currently beaten beyond recognition, one eye swollen shut, nose broken, and claw marks littering his entire naked body.
By now, he would have been begging for death if it was not for the family probably waiting for him at home. He merely hoped they were not too worried, that his father was taking good enough care of his younger brother. Maybe they would get along well enough without him.

Sitka had sought the pack out on his own.  Five days ago his youngest brother had come home with news of a missing boy.  It would have been a full moon on the night he was abducted, a clear indication to the eldest Sandoval that it was most likely werewolf related.  Sitka had read the papers, found whatever small details he could. The boy had been taken somewhere between his favorite bar and his home, after further investigation Sitka had found himself in the alley, bent down on his haunches as he observed the signs of struggle. The werewolf had been careless, left small tracks of the kids blood everywhere.  Sitka followed it all the way back to the packs home. The native had made sure to keep himself heavily armed and ready, not wanting to waste any time when he finally found the boy.  It would be impossible for Sitka to leave him, even if the boy wasnt alive, the native wanted to bring him home. 
It was easy enough to pick he pack off, one by one as they came outside. Sitka had been doing this for years, taught by his parents before their passing.  The young native was quiet and deadly, always.  Most of the wolves didn't realize what was happening until it was too late. 
Soon there was only three of the beasts left, holed up in the home somewhere.  Sitka found himself creeping around the building, carefully peeking in windows to get a visual on the remaining targets. One in the kitchen, one in the living room, and then another who seemed to be headed to the basement.
The young native's jaw clenched.  What if that kid was alive in the basement? What could they be doing to him?
Sitka couldn't stomach the thoughts, and swore to himself there that he would stop that bastard before he made it into the basement.
He shot the werewolf in the living room right from the window, filling its chest with silver but not willing to watch at the beast gurgled and faded away.  Its companion came from the kitchen, already shifted and ready to fight but Sitka was ready too, darting the larger werewolf with three wolfsbane coated arrows. 
That left only the one that had been headed to the basement.
"You cannot hide from Sitka."  The young native called out mockingly, enraged with the blood on his hands. It was their fault.  They made him do this by taking that boy.
The boy.
"What have you done with the blue boy?"  That had been all Kenai could tell him.  Blue eyes. Sitka followed down to the basement, his bone carved blade held tightly between skilled and petal veined fingers. The werewolf ambushed him when he came to the final step, managing one swipe across his tanned and steady chest. Sitka made easy work of it though, slicing through the beasts throat and merely stepping back so that its blood did not splash him. 
The young Native picked his eyes up then, so dark against his tanned skinned that they seemed black from the iris all the way to the pupil.  The boys gaze was all consuming.
Slowly, his eyes drew to the battered form in the corner.  For a moment he mistook it for some mangled garbage the beasts had collected, but then he noticed that it was almost shaped like...
Oh god.
Sitka's stomach coiled, his heart feeling as though it had taken a plummet.
Had he been too late?
"Sitka has come for you."  The tanned boy spoke gently, such a contrast from the way he had goaded the werewolf.  "To take the blue eyed boy home." He was moving forward slowly, unsure if it was to keep from starling himself or the boy.  
More himself.
He kid might not even be alive. Sitka still couldnt be certain.

Shiloh had heard all of the commotion but he hadn't been able to make himself roll around to see what was going on. Probably just a fight between wolves. It would be over soon and his torture would continue. He wasn't foolish enough to think it could really be over. He had cringed when he heard footsteps approaching him but he still did not move to look to see who it was until Sitka spoke. It was a gentle voice, much softer than the wolves. And then the words settled in.
Someone had come for him.
"Are you a wolf?" Shiloh questioned as he finally forced himself to roll around. If the man was still here, had gotten past all of the others, he couldn't be human. "Are they all gone?" He rasped as his large blue eyes roamed around the room, as if wondering if this could be a trap. Maybe he was hallucinating. "Who are you?" He asked finally. He hadn't realized how soft and scratchy his voice was, his throat exhausted from the constant pleading he'd been doing lately.

"Sitka is your bestfriend today, blue eyes." The young native could have hit his knees as the boy spoke to him.  It was weak and rasping but it was there and for that Sitka was grateful.  He hadn't been prepared for what he would have done if he had found the boy already passed. "He is not a beast though, so rest easy.  No one is going to hurt you anymore." Slowly the dark skinned boy crouched down, his bone carved knife held cautiously in his hand. "Do not be alarmed.  Sitka wishes only to free you of your bindings. It does not look comfortable, the way you are laying."  He was trying to be soothing, his eyes wide as they took in the extent of the werewolves damage.
If he had know this...He would have made them suffer more.
Carefully his other hand came to hold the lock of the chains.  It took Sitka only seconds to flick his knife into the key jamb, twisting it skillfully until the cuffs clicked open. 
"The wolves have all been dealt their punishment for your capture.  Sitka never lets them live."  He had two little brothers himself.  A werewolf was too much risk.  He couldn't lose his little family.  "Allow Sitka to help you, Abedabun." Sight of the day. "Your limbs will not hold up after such treatment."

"I don't think I could move on my own if I wanted to." Shiloh murmured softly. He seemed to be dazed as he looked around the room. It didn't feel real. He still wasn't sure he wasn't hallucinating. Hell, maybe he'd actually died and this man was some sort of guardian angel. "Sitka." He spoke his savior's name allowed, glancing up at him with his one blue eye that was not swollen shut. "I'm Shiloh." He reached out then, deciding that even if it was a hallucination he could still get out of this hell for a while. He looked like a small child reaching up for their parents. "You said you're taking me home?" He didn't know if Sitka could be trusted, didn't know if he wanted to go to the man's home. But no matter what happened, he was sure it couldn't be worse than what he'd already endured.

Sitka paused as the boy reached for him, the one blue eye piercing enough to halt all of his movements. The way the boy had said his name....
So broken.
The young native couldnt help but reach back, his tanned fingers curling carefully around Shiloh's as his other hand moved to gently cup the boys cheek. The skin was feverish and swollen in his palm, causing Sitka's stomach to give a painful twist.  He understood that what had been done was unimaginable. The boys clothes were ripped and torn, merely tatters now after nine days of suffering abuse.  Sitka found himself aching with the thought that Shiloh might be cold, laying so bare against the basement floor.  The young hunter settled his gear down, making sure not to do anything too quickly in fear of startling the boy. From there he pulled away his thick bearskin coat.  It was warm and it smelled of honey and fresh sweat, something else that was sweet but masculine, a smell that stayed with the native.  Sitka carefully brushed all the chains away before draping the coat over Shiloh's shoulders, his fingers quick as they button the furs up around the boy.  
"Sitka is going to take blue eye home with him, only so that he can properly be cared for.  Werewolf injuries are like nothing else. You will be safer with Sitka."  The young native reached to gently curl one of his arms around the boys back, his other moving to hook under Shiloh's knees. "Sitka understands your fear, but as he said, you can rest easy.  Sitka is here to save you.  There will be no debt. It is enough that he found you alive." The young native managed a reassuring smile as he lifted the boy, swift and graceful, making sure never to jar Shiloh for fear of hurting the boys already broken body.

"Thank you." Shiloh spoke softly as he let his head fall into the man's chest. "M'so cold." He informed, letting the warmth of the man's coat completely envelope him. The man's scent coming off of the fur seemed to have a calming effect on him, almost like a drug.
Everything would be okay.
Sitka was here.
"You know how to take care of werewolf injuries?" He rasped out quietly, glancing up at the Native man holding him. He had so many questions running through his mind. How had Sitka found him? How had he taken out the entire pack by himself? Who the hell was he? But he was so exhausted, he couldn't bring himself to ask all of them right now.

"Sitka knows much of how to handle the beasts.  He has been taught by the best."  The young native found himself clutching Shiloh flush against him, though making sure to be careful of how he touched the boy, how his fingers fell and how tightly they held.  Shiloh was so fragile, and he had already been through so much.
Sitka only found his heart aching worse when he finally got the boy upstairs into the light.  He didnt want Shiloh to see all the bodies, afraid it would spook the boy against him.  So instead Sitka cradled the blonde's head so that all Shiloh could see was his face.  He smiled then, his lips a soft pink against the dark contrast of his face. "Sitka understand that the broken one is cold, and he promises it will be better once we make it home.  Denahi will have a fire made."  He had already spoken to his brothers.  They were to do as he said and stay out of his way, no badgering the boy if he was brought along and no asking questions.
They hardly ever listened but he had told them anyways.
At home, Denahi did have a flames going in their fire place. The fifteen year old was sitting cross legged by the crackling wood when Sitka entered.  Kenai was sprawled out on his belly atop the old fur rug that centered their floor.  The youngest was eleven, his face still rounded sweetly with boyish features. He looked up excitedly when he heard the door open, his oldest brothers name bubbling from his lips. 
"You found him! Crocodile! Bears claw found the Abercombie boy!" Kenai was immediately bounding at Sitka's feet, wanting to help and doing nearly everything the older boy had warned him against.
"Little bird. Hush."  Sitka's eyes were sharp, the only light in them being the reflection of the fire. "Sitka needs you to gather towels and take them to the bathroom. No questions. No more. Just please do as asked."
Kenai seemed to give a childish pout but he bounded off to do as he was told, leaving Denahi who merely grunted at the sight of Shiloh.
"Got his ass good, didn't they bears claw?"
"Denahi." Sitka gently kicked the younger native in his thigh, black eyes dangerous as they peered down at him.  Denahi didn't understand how his words could affect others.  He was too young, thoughtless.
"Just go retrieve first aid. Leave it in Sitka's room.  Then take Little bird and make yourselves quiet and still somewhere. This boy had been through enough.  He doesn't need to suffer through your mouth." The oldest Sandoval headed up the stairs then, up to the third story where his bedroom lie. Their home wasn't large even though it had three levels. On the bottom was the living room,  and Kenai's room.  The second story held the small kitchen and Denahi's hide away.  And the third was Sitka and their parents bed room, complete with a tiny bathroom that linked them together. His father had built the home from scratch, spending most of his life working on it.
"Sitka apologizes for them.  They are my brothers.  Fifteen and eleven, they don't know any better." He was headed up to the little bathroom, carefully settling himself down against the bathtub so he could begin running water. He still held Shiloh cradled carefully against his chest, gesturing slowly to the falling spray. "Would you like to feel the temperature? Sitka does not want the water too cold nor too hot."

"I have a brother too." Shiloh informed, attempting to smile for the other man but his lips merely twitched lightly. "I understand. He just turned twelve." His Wiley was just as energetic as Kenai had seemed. He leaned forward, groaning in pain as he tried to adjust the temperature of the water. He wanted it hot, so hot that he could scald off the man's hands he could still feel on his skin. "So are you the oldest then?" He was trying to make conversation with his rasping voice, grateful that this man was with him now so he was not alone with his thoughts.

"Sitka is eighteen this year, as of December 25th."  A Christmas baby he had been, the first born son, a complete blessing to his parents.  "When Sitka was of five years, his mother became pregnant a third time. Her body was too tired to carry on after.  Denahi had come around the third year."  The eldest native explained gently as he began carefully tugging away the tattered remains of Shiloh's clothes. "On Sitka's ninth year, our father faded from the earth as well."  He had been peeling the strips away quickly, with nimble fingers, but he stopped suddenly as though something struck him. "Listen, speaks softly, Sitka is here to help you. But Sitka will not push you.  He promises that if you allow him to wash you  that will be his only intentions. Sitks is not a beast." The boy offered out his dark skinned hand, his palm facing Shiloh. "Sitka swears it."

Shiloh watched the man for a moment, listening to his words. Maybe he should have been more wary of this stranger but he was too exhausted. He could not see Sitka as anything other than kind. The man was trying to help him and he desperately needed help right now.
"I need your help washing right now." Shiloh admitted. "I couldn't do it myself even if I wanted to. But I want to trust you, Sitka. I don't think you're a beast." He reassured the man. "Just... do whatever you need to do. I trust you."

Sitka's eyes weren't black stars anymore now that there was light to shine on them.  Instead there was flecks of golden and green now, too.  And the darkness seemed to have softened, a deep murky brown replacing the all consuming black. The young native's hands were gentle as they peeled away the rest of the boys tattered cloth remains.  He didn't remove the coat though.  He had unbuttoned it just enough to remove the scraps but he was determined that the boys skin wouldnt feel cold sting of air. Finally the tub was full, but Sitka drew back when he felt how scalding the water was. 
"Soft one, do you really think it necessary to be in water this hot? It could not possibly be comfortable for you." His voice was soothing, like rain falling upon a tin roof.  He was concerned, knowing that Shiloh had to bare wounds that he couldnt see. That pack had done unspeakable things.

"I wanted it that hot." Shiloh reassured, reaching out a hand to feel the water again. It was just hot enough that it would serve its purpose without actually burning him. "I'll be fine." He murmured tiredly. "I want to feel really clean." He made it clear what he meant without actually explaining it to the man. He eyed Sitka warily then, one of his hands coming up to press to a large open wound on his left hip, the one not pressing against Sitka's chest. It was the deepest of the claw marks covering him. "When we're done do you have anything to take care of this? It feels bad." He gritted his teeth to try and forget about the pain. It was difficult though when everything hurt.

Sitka's eyes followed the boys hands, darkening once more on the festering wound the wolves had left him with.  It made the Native's chest constrict, to think of what they had been doing to the boy when that gash had been left.  "Sitka will take care of everything, brave one." His fingers were careful as they came to feel the fever that was swelling the damaged flesh.  "It will need to be cleaned well.  And after Sitka will dress it for you."  His voice was gentle, as though he feared any wrong move could serve to trigger  the boy.  The last thing Sitka wanted was to cause Shiloh anymore stress.  The boy body didnt look as though it could take it.  
The native carefully opened his coat up, allowing it to cover Shiloh's shoulders so as long as he could without getting it wet.  After all the carnage he'd left at the pack home, one would think it impossible for him to be so gentle as he was with Shiloh then.  He eased the boy into the water, making sure to keep his hands positioned in a way he could support most of, if not all of Shiloh's weight.  He couldnt be sure of the full extent yet.  His first concern had been making the boy comfortable. After, when Shiloh is clean and well bundled Sitka would begin his assessment of the boys wounds, and take his time to dress them. 
He had been reaching for a wash cloth when he heard it.
Just a small  creak, a tiny hiss.
The eldest Sandoval could only let out a soft grunt of irritation. "Bears claw believes he smells a rotten crocodile and a careless little bird." 
Silence.
Sitka turned to Shiloh and offered the boy an apologetic smile, some of his long dark hair falling into his face.  The Native had it all tied back with a strip of leather, but with all the running around it was finally beginning to come loose.  "Sitka promises they mean no harm. They are merely nosy little minds. They could be of use to us."
Silence, still.  But Sitka knew they were there.
Finally the native turned to Shiloh, taking his rag and lathering it as though he was moving on.  But his lips were quirked almost playfully, and when he spoke next, his voice was taunting. "You know Brave one, Sitka doesn't know why he thought he could depend on little bird to bring that first aid kit to his room. Sitka hasn't hear-"
He didn't have to finish.  Kenai was poking his head around the corner, letting out a childish whine at his older brother. "I did do that though Sitka! Everything is how you wanted it!"
"Except for you and Denahi? Sitka thought he told you two to go downstairs and be silent."
"Look at what you did! Now im in trouble, too."  It was another voice, obviously Denahi in the way it hissed. "Come on, Little bird."
"Not so fast." Sitka slowly brought the rag up to run across Shiloh's cheek, his touch careful and delicate. "Tell Sitka, missing one.  Would you like for your family to be notified? Sitka can send Little bird and Crocodile."

Shiloh paused at the question, unsure if he wanted to contact his family or not yet. Of course he wanted them to know he was okay, he didn't want to let them sit at home worrying about him any longer.
But if they knew he was okay, they would want to see him.
And he couldn't let that happen. They could not see him like this, so broken and beaten. His father would be disappointed he had let himself be taken advantage of. He'd tell him he should have been stronger.
And Wiley. He just knew Wiley would cry and try to hug him and refuse to let go. That was the last thing he wanted right now.
"Tell them you've found me and I'm perfectly fine. But tell them they can't come and see me just yet." He was trying to think of a good reason why, but he had nothing other than the truth. "They can call if they want. Just tell them I'll be home soon." Really, he didn't think he'd be able to go home and work out on the farm again for quite some time. He planned on staying here as long as Sitka would allow it. He didn't want his father to see him until he was healed.

"Alright."  Sitka didn't question the boy.  He understood that somethings were better left unsaid. Shiloh had his reasons after everything he had been through.  "Denahi, Kenai.  You heard the missing one.  Do as the boy said and go tell his family for us."  
Thats all it took to have Kenai in the doorway, bouncing around excitedly on the balls of his feet.  He was always eager to help, wanting to be someone's hero like his older brother one day.  He wanted to save lives, too.
"We can do that! I know where your house is! I know it!"  
"But you couldn't find it! Even if you tried, bird-brain!"  Denahi appeared behind the boy, thumping the crown of Kenai's head. "Your sense of direction is weak. Crocodile will handle this."
"You two just be careful and be home before sundown, how about that?"  Sitka reached out to carefully brush his fingers through each of the boys hair, earning a delighted giggle from Kenai and a soft huff from Denahi, as though he was too old for such childish things.
"Dont worry Shiloh!"  The youngest native peeked past Sitka to battered body in the tub.  "We'll do everything we can to help you!"
"Just shut up and come on!"  Denahi gently nudged the boy on his way out, immediately stealing Kenai's attention away.  They were gone after that, their footsteps slowly fading away.
Sitka was left shaking his head after them, a fond smile twisting his lips as he turned back to Shiloh.  "Now, allow Sitka to clean the missing one.  He looks tired and pained."  The oldest Sandoval carefully wet the cloth once more before swiping it down Shiloh's neck. Dried and fresh blood had already colored the water a deep and murky red, but there still seemed to be so much more still caked to the boy.  Nine days worth. 
And god knows what else.
It made Sitka's stomach curl to think about.

Shiloh allowed himself to relax then, for the first time in nine days. He had been trying to block out all of the pain for so long now, knowing if he just sat there and let it, it would overtake him completely. But now he allowed himself to feel it, just how bad the damage was. His entire body seemed to ache. Every muscle, every bone, every inch of skin.
The tub was not exactly comfortable but the warm water made it bearable. It was much better than the unforgiving basement floor. He allowed Sitka to clean him as his eyes ran over his own flesh, taking in all of the wounds that were visible. Even his wrists and ankles were rubbed raw from the chains constantly rubbing against them. There was not an inch of him that did not scream in pain every time it was touched. But he let Sitka work, only cringing or hissing involuntarily when the man would brush over a particularly sensitive spot, like his hips or his shoulders.
Eventually his eyes wandered up to Sitka to distract himself from the pain once more. There was no denying the man was handsome. Shiloh enjoyed the warmth of his touch and the caramel color of his skin. Sitka simply had something about him that immediately made Shiloh feel at home. He shouldn't trust anyone after what he'd just been through. But for some reason, he did.
"Thank you, Sitka." He spoke finally, his eyes following a strand of the man's dark hair that had fallen to hang in front of his face. "For everything. You don't have to be doing all of this for me, saving me should have been enough. But you are and I really can't thank you enough." He couldn't imagine having to do this himself. He could hardly move.

"No other would do it right."  Sitka explained softly, as though that alone made him responsible for Shiloh's recovery.  He could feel the boys eyes on him, but he didn't want to look up.  It would only strike him if Shiloh looked panicked or afraid, unsure.  The native felt nauseous every time he thought of what had been done, how Shiloh had been touched.  The boy's hips and his ass, there was no denying that the abuse went deep. 
Sitka's hands trembles as they continued to work, lathering away blood and muck and nine days worth of dried release.
"Sitka does not save people for his own selfish gain. Sitka came for you. You and the family that would be missing you. Sitka appreciates your gratitude, but let that be all.  You are not indebted to me, missing one.  Never feel as though you are." His words were as gentle as his hands, dark eyes finally flickering up to center on Shiloh's one unswollen blue orb. "Sitka saw a picture of you, missing one.  Sitka saw that your eyes were blue like the clear waters of the creak. Pure.  Sitka knew that you deserved to come home, so he brought you. He simply regrets not getting there sooner."  Kenai had not come to him until five days after Shiloh had disappeared.

Denahi was by now knocking on the door to the Abercombie family home, hissing softly at Kenai that he didnt need to knock, too.
Kenai ignored him, and continued to bang away.
By the time the door actually opened, the older native had an arm wrapped tight around Kenai's neck, while the younger boy struggled to get away, finally biting Denahi hard enough that he was released when someone finally came out.
"O'-Si-Yo!"  The boys chimed hello in their native language. "We are here for Shiloh!"

Shiloh opened his mouth as if to say something else but after a moment it fell shut again. There were not words to express his gratitude. And Sitka did not seem to want it anyways. He laid there for another moment before deciding he wanted to know more about his savior.
"So... Sitka." He recalled the man's name, enjoying how it seemed to roll off of his tongue so easily. "How... how did you save me?" He could not understand it. How had one man taken down an entire pack of werewolves? "Did they leave or... did you get past them? Are they dead?" God, he hoped so. But he thought it was too good to be true.

The door was opened by a bright eyed boy with blonde curls sitting atop of his head. They were rather messy as if he had just crawled out of bed.
"You're here for Shiloh? Is he okay?"
The boy was maybe an inch shorter than Kenai. It was clear he was Shiloh's brother, sharing the boy's dirty blonde hair and bright blue innocent eyes.

"Sitka never lets them live, missing one."  The young Native's eyes flickered up again to meet Shiloh's soft blue. "What they have done to you is unforgivable and Sitka saw each one of them dead for you.  He simply did not wish for you to see. Sitka did not want you to be frightened of him."  The boy never lied.  He spoke what he meant, and he became confused if others did not.  Lying was a habit that Sitka despised. "Sitka is a hunter, taught by the best.  He used silver and wolfsbane and bone."  He was not a cruel person.  He took no pleasure in watching death or being involved, but sometimes it was worth it. It might leave Sitka sleepless but others would be safe, and Shiloh would live. 
He did what he had to do.


"Oh yeah! Shiloh is just fine!"  Kenai bounced forward, his face rounded with a childish grin. "My big brother bears claw has him all taken care of!"  Denahi was rolling his eyes, irritated that a child had answered the door.  They had come to tell a parent, someone with authority.  Not some knobby kneed blue eyed brat.
"You got a parents around here?"  The older native peeked into the home, growling when Kenai shoved him back.
"Mean old crocodile!"  The boy huffed, glancing to Wiley with his large brown eyes. "Don't mind him! He is nasty and he smells bad. We just came to tell you that your brother will be fine! We promise! Hey, whats your name?"  The young native was leaning forward, his gaze sweet and curious on Wiley.
"Kenai, We didn't come here to make friends."  Denahi hissed down at his brother, rolling his eyes at the way Kenai waved him off.

"A hunter? Like you hunt werewolves for a living?" Shiloh spoke curiously, watching Sitka intently as the man spoke. "I thought maybe I was going crazy down there." He admitted. "I thought maybe they were messing with me when they told me they were werewolves." He shook his head. It was insane to think that it had all been real. And now there were werewolf hunters too? "So you really did it all alone?" It made him feel quite pathetic, really. If one man could take them down, he should have been able to fight the one that had taken him in the first place.

"Daddy is sleeping. He's real worried about Shy lately. You can come in and I can wake him up though." Wiley chirped happily, smiling even though Denahi clearly did not seem to like him very much. He had stepped back to lead the man inside but then he thought better of it. "Um actually I'm not supposed to let strangers inside so hold on." He disappeared then, returning a moment later with an older man following behind him. "Okay so this is daddy. You can come in and talk to him." He gestured to Denahi before his gaze went back to Kenai, giving the boy a sweet smile. "And I can talk to him." He had already forgotten about his missing brother, distracted by the extremely cute boy in his doorway, smiling at him. They had said Shiloh was fine so he was fine. "I'm Wiley!" He beamed to answer the boy's earlier question, extending a hand as his father led Denahi into the kitchen, not wanting his son to hear anything.

"Sitka lured most of them outside, one by one.  The last two were surprised and the third one was simply so afraid that he wasn't much of a challenge. It shows what cowards they truly are." Sitka's upper lip curled inn disgust as he spoke of them.  He truly thought it nasty, how they had abused someone with such innocent eyes.  This boy had obviously never done anything wrong.  He hadn't deserved the abuse he had suffered.  It would stay with him for the rest of his life, and it made Sitka's stomach curl.
He wanted to make it better. The young native had always been tender for the victims he aided, but never like this. There was something different about Shiloh.  He wanted to help put back the pieces himself, so that he could assure himself that the boy would be okay.
By now he had moved around to wash Shiloh's back, his hands gentle as they moved over raw skin.  "You can stay in Sitka's room tonight if you would like, missing one."  It was a rare offer, something no one else had ever received aside from his two brothers. Usually Sitka had his victims in the living room or burrowed up in his parents bedroom.  Shiloh though....The young native didnt want to leave Shiloh alone.

"Wiley."  Kenai grinned at the way the name rolled from his tongue.  "Its nice to meet you! Im Little bird."  The caramel skinned boy held out his hand as though to take Wiley's.  His eyes were the color of sweet honey, and his hair was black like a cloudy nights sky, where even the moon has disappeared behind the clouds and threatening to brush his shoulders. When he smiled, he had a deep set of dimples and his teeth always flashed brightly against the pink of his lips. "You could also call me Kenai if you want to though."  The boy could call him anything if he kept staring with those beautiful blue eyes. "We should be friends, Wiley!"  The young native never hesitated, taking a step closer to the shorter blonde. "Best friends! Because our names go together! Kenai and Wiley! Wiley and Kenai! See? Just fits. How old are you?  I just turned eleven last month!"  The boy never seemed to pause for a breath, his words swelling and exciting.

"I still can't believe you did it by yourself... But I'm grateful you did, of course." Shiloh tried to give the man a smile, succeeding only in a slight upturn of the corners of his mouth. "And I think I'd like that unless you'd rather I sleep somewhere else. A bed sounds really nice right about now." He was just realizing how tired he was. He had never been so excited to go lay down in his life. He even let his eyes slip shut for a moment as Sitka washed him, finding that he was at ease now around the man.

"I'm eleven too!" Wiley beamed brightly at the other boy, reaching out to take his hand and tug him in the door. "But I'm almost twelve." He nodded happily, leading the boy over to the couch where he took a seat. "You can sit down too, since we're friends now." He giggled softly. "So Kenai, do you like that or little bird better? I'll call you whichever... I don't like my name that much either but I don't have a cool nickname."

"You will have a bed regardless, Skops."  Sitka smiled softly at the name.  He liked owls, one of his favorites being the scops owl for its large eyes.  Shiloh reminded him of them then, with his one shining blue eye.  "But if you would prefer to be alone Sitka would understand that as well."  The young native was imply trying to make Shiloh comfortable, not wanting his presence to unease the boy. He was nearly done washing over the boys battered body, his hands pausing when he finally finished everything he could reach.
"Is....Would you be alright if Sitka finished?"  He didn't know how close Shiloh would permit him to be, or if the boy was even able to reach back and clean himself on his own.  But the young native asked anyways, unwilling to do anything that might alarm Shiloh. He was certain above all things that the boy would want it done though after nine days of sitting in his attackers release. 

"You don't like your name?"  Kenai asked as though it was unimaginable how anyone could dislike the name Wiley. The young native himself couldn't get over how adorable it was.  But if the boy didn't like it then Kenai was always willing to help, especially if it meant he got to spend more time with the bubbly blonde boy.  "Little bird loves it, but he will try to think of a nick name for you too!"  He wouldn't rush though.  Kenai believed that the names should mean something.  He came to sit down beside Wiley, his dimples deep as he grinned at the boy.  "You have really pretty blonde hair! Oh! And your eyes,"  Kenai could only let out an appreciative hum. "I've never seen anything that color blue before..." It was like they were consuming him, sweeping him away in their rolling tides.

"You mean..." Shiloh glanced up at the man, his ocean blue eye landing on one of Sitka's dark orbs. "Yeah, I guess I kind of need that done." He would be lying if he said he wasn't uncomfortable with the idea but he needed it. "I can't do it myself. Would you, please?" He grimaced as he forced himself to his hands and knees, leaning with his head against the wall so Sitka could have easier access.

Wiley found a light blush coloring his cheeks as Kenai complimented him. He had never had any boys tell him he was pretty before, especially not one as cute as this little Native boy.
"I like your eyes better, they're really dark." He hummed softly as he glanced into the boy's eyes, smiling all the while. "And your skin is a lot darker than mine, it looks like... coffee." He nodded as he settled on this word, reaching a hand out and placing it atop of Kenai's arm to watch the contrast.