It was dawn on a summer day in a forest in Idaho when Paine spotted the body floating in the river.
He had gone out hoping to catch some fish. He didn't need to live off the land, but he liked doing it whenever possible. It meant that he didn't need to go to civilization as often. He had arrived only minutes before and was busy attaching his lure when he saw what was very clearly a human body flowing in the current with all the other debris.
Without thinking, he dropped what he was holding and waded out to meet the body's path. The river was moderately deep, almost six feet, but Paine was so tall it didn't hinder him very much. He grabbed the body and dragged it to the bank.
Now that Paine was closer he could see that it was the body of a small young man, perhaps 20 years of age. He was short and light, but Paine's attention was mostly grabbed by the multiple injuries the boy had. He had deep cuts all over his body, so many that his clothes were ripped to shreds. Bruises dotted his pale skin. Paine was reasonably sure that his right leg had been broken. Worst of all was his left eye. It had a deep, ugly scratch piercing it. It didn't look likely that what was left of his eyeball would function.
Still, despite everything, the young man was still breathing and his heart was beating. He was still alive.
Paine gently put the body on his shoulders in a fireman's carry and started hiking back to his cabin, leaving his fishing gear behind. The injuries didn't seem very old. They weren't beyond his abilities to treat. He just needed to work fast.
*****
He didn't know how long he had been floating, just drifting along. He wasn't even sure he was fully conscious, but there was the faintest sensation that he was no longer floating debris. He was being carried away.
He felt a presence. It was so warm and kind. In his mind's feeble state, it attached to that being, imprinting itself on his savior. He felt so safe now.
Part of him tried to wake up fully, to emerge from the darkness so he could meet his hero, but his body pushed him back into the fog. He was in too much pain.
He felt his semi-consciousness fade. He was falling back into oblivion.
He let himself be enveloped by the fog. He wasn't in danger now that he was rescued.
*****
Paine was exhausted, but glad to see that at the very least progress was being made.
He had been tending to the boy for almost three days at that point. Before he moved out into the wilderness, his older brother Ray, a registered nurse, had ensured he had a fully stocked first aid kit with a detailed manual.
"You're too far out," he had told Paine. "You need to know what to do in case something happens."
At the time, Paine thought that the precaution was excessive, but now he was grateful for his brother's foresight. He used the kit to the best of his ability to clean and dress the young man's wounds. He was reasonably certain that the possibility of infection had been avoided, and the boy's fever had decreased.
Paine had placed the young man on his bed when he first got back to his cabin, and it took him a few hours to realize that he now didn't have a place to sleep. He didn't want to get in the bed with him, so he had to make do with his couch, which was not nearly long enough.
The boy seemed to spend most of the time in a semi-conscious state, not awake, but faintly aware. As he got better he came closer and closer to waking up. During this process, the boy had developed a few new habits.
Paine didn't know how, but his charge had learned to recognize his presence. Whenever he got near the boy would relax a bit, and he had taken to reaching and grabbing whenever Paine touched him, not to push him away, but to pull him closer. He didn't know that it was something humans could do, but even when the young man was asleep he was still faintly aware of his surroundings.
His recovery was gradual, but definitely happening. The color returned to his face and he seemed less fragile as time went on. Paine had worked diligently, and saw the results. Now it was simply a matter of waiting for the young man to wake up.
*****
He was almost to the surface. He could feel it.
For the longest time he had been floating, inching closer and closer to full consciousness. He knew that his hero was helping him, aiding and encouraging him. Due to his nature, he had mentally latched onto whoever that person was. He loved them. He needed them.
It was for his provider that he wanted to wake up fully. He wanted to express his gratitude, but he was still in a weakened state. His body didn't want him to wake up, but over time, that need to stay asleep faded. He was so close to seeing his savior that he could taste it.
He felt the warm, kind presence return. He didn't know what they were doing, but he guessed that they were taking care of him. He pushed with all his might, doing everything he could to wake up.
With some effort, he broke through and opened his eyes.
His surroundings faded into focus. He saw the face of his hero.
The boy's caretaker was a breathtakingly handsome man, with chocolatey skin and incredible muscles. He wasn't just built, though, he was huge, the tallest the young man had ever seen. He tried to speak and make his presence known, but the only sound that came out was a whimper.
Paine was changing the boy's bandages when he heard him make a small noise. He turned and was overjoyed to see those eyes finally open.
"Thank God," he said. "I'm so glad you're finally awake."
His hero had a voice perfectly suited to match the gentle, nurturing persona he had developed in his mind. It sounded soft and sweet, but strong. The young man reached out, whimpering some more.
Paine gently laid his hand on the arm of his charge.
"Don't try to force yourself to talk if you can't right now. You're still recovering, so you need to take it easy."
The young man nodded. Now that he had opened his good eye Paine could see that it was a bright, icy shade of blue. He saw so much trust and love in the boy's gaze, and was taken aback slightly to realize that all that affection was directed at him. Even more startling was the wave of parental, protective feelings that washed over him when looking at the boy. It was a feeling he had never experienced before.
Without really thinking Paine reached out and stroked the boy's cheek. He leaned into and nuzzled his hand.
"I'm going to make dinner, sweetheart," Paine said. "You get some more rest."
Another nod, this time with a slight smile. Why was he suddenly the most adorable, precious creature Paine had ever laid eyes on? He needed to focus on something else for a bit. He smiled at the boy and left to go to the kitchen.
The boy lay in the bed and started to remember more about his situation, what had happened to him and why. The first thing that he realized was that he couldn't see out of his left eye anymore. He also had a broken leg and several claw marks. He slowly got out of his stupor, and he remembered how he had gotten the injuries. As his mind became less clouded, he became more concerned about his current circumstances. He looked over to the kitchen. The cabin was essentially one giant room, so he could see his caretaker working at the stove. He knew that he had imprinted on the man, and he knew that that would likely cause some problems down the road.
Even so, he couldn't help but feel calmer, safer just looking at his rescuer. The black man who had saved his life looked to maybe be in his late twenties, and was unbelievably tall. It was hard to judge from the distance, but the boy assumed that he was six and a half feet tall or more. Under his shirt and jeans were rippling muscles. He had an aura of strength to him. Everything about him was so strong, so masculine.
Maybe ten minutes had passed when his hero came back with two bowls of soup. He sat the young man up and they both started eating. The boy tried again to speak.
"m...my...my n-name is T-Tim." He forced out.
His caretaker looked up and smiled.
"I'm glad you can talk now. My name is Paine. It's nice to meet you." He held out his hand and Tim shook it. His tiny hand was completely engulfed by Paine's.
"Th-thank you so m-m-much for helping me, s-sir."
"Oh, come now. We're friends, no need to call me sir."
"S-sorry."
Paine tilted his head a bit. "Is that stammer because of your injuries?"
Tim shook his head. "No. I've al-always had it." He felt his cheeks get hot. His stutter was always one of his deepest shames, right up there with his tiny body and weak stature.
