Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Inside Out ❯ Trouble with the Police (Part 1) ( Chapter 6 )

Lucas hated hospitals. The smell of disinfectant, the bright lights. Doctors in general.

But here he was. And as he stood in the lobby, pacing back and forth, arms crossed and his head down, he continued to mentally berate himself.

 

Sheek had called two hours earlier, telling him that he needed to get to the hospital.

He hadn't exactly said why, but he could tell it was serious. The light tone Sheek usually carried with him was not present, and he sounded deadly serious. Dare he even say worried?

 

“Mr. Taylor?”

 

Looking up, Lucas let his eyes fall upon a rather petite looking nurse.

She held a clipboard to her chest, and the way she tilted her head back so that she could look him in the eyes made her look even smaller.

 

She brushed a lock of dark hair from her oval face before letting her eyes flutter downwards towards the sheets of paper clipped to the board. Lifting her gaze once more, she turned abruptly and motioned for him to follow.

 

“He's on the third floor.”

 

“Third floor? Isn't that intensive care?”

“Yes, but he'll be moved down to the second floor shortly.”

“Is he alright?”

“He's suffered a grade three concussion,” the nurse began as they stepped into the elevator. Flipping through one of the charts, her eyes skimmed the paper before she continued.

“Several cuts, some dark bruises. We performed a CT scan on him when he was brought in, and had him sent to ICU for observation. Aside from being unconscious, his brain activity seems to be doing fine.”

 

Lucas didn't want to admit it, but he was still wary as to who `he' was.

He was beginning to get a nauseous feeling in his stomach, a sneaking suspicion creeping up his spine. He didn't want to think about that, and simply settled for `I'll find out'.

 

-

 

Sheek was standing outside of a closed door, hands stuffed into his pockets, a worn look in his face. It was at that moment, Lucas knew. His stomach dropped so suddenly that if it weren't for the wall he had already been leaning on, he would have dropped to his knees.

 

“Do my mom and dad know…?”'

 

“Your mother has been unreachable; they've called your father, though. He hasn't shown up.”

 

“Go figure.”

 

Regaining some of his composure, Lucas ran a hand through his hair and looked to the nurse. She looked to the door, checked the watch on her wrist and then nodded.

He didn't need any more consent then that, and moving forward, he advanced into the room with Sheek at his heels.

 

“They wouldn't let me see him until a family member showed up,” Sheek began as he closed the door. “They said since he's in ICU…”

 

“Jesus Christ, what happened?”

 

Elias lay motionless on the bed, hooked up to an IV. He was still unconscious, no doubt from all of the drugs the doctors had provided. His arms had scratches all over them, and his face had a large bruise on his left cheek. The severity of the bruise was hard to tell because of the oxygen mask covering the boys face.

 

Sheek cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. When it became apparent that he wasn't going to answer, Lucas stepped towards the bed for closer inspection.

His cheek was indeed bruised; swelling had started on the left side of his temple, and his lower lip was split open. Someone had beaten the shit out of him.

 

An irritation built up inside of him, and Lucas didn't even care anymore.

Lifting his head, he resumed his standing position and fixed Sheek with a steady gaze, despite the fact that his hands were trembling.

 

“Do you know who did this?”

 

Sheek seemed hesitant to reply, and Lucas frowned.

 

“I've a rough idea,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. “I overheard one of them. Name's Terry, if I recall correctly.”

 

“Where did you find him?”

 

Once again, Sheek seemed to hesitate, and Lucas snarled.

 

“I need to know, damnit!”

 

“He was in the alley between the cafeteria and gym.”

“I'm going to kill him.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Lucas. You can't kill him.”

“Oh yeah?”

 

Lucas shot a glare to Sheek before turning his gaze back to Elias.

 

“Watch me.”

 

 

-*-

 

It felt like he was floating. Such an odd sensation, actually.

Like he was suspended in air, almost as if the laws of gravity no longer applied to him.

 

But gradually, the feeling dissipated and the soft sounds of beeping and machines surrounded him. Pulling him from the peaceful state he had been in.

 

He was sore, and he felt like he had cotton stuffed in his ears. Every sound seemed oddly muted to him, and he momentarily wondered where he was.

Coughing, he parted heavy lids and was mildly surprised—and frightened, to find his mother, father and Lucas in the room with him.

 

What was going on?

 

His head was pounding—the pleasant feeling that had engulfed him before, gone completely. A sense of dread crawled up his throat, and he swallowed the bile that nearly escaped. His mothers' eyes widened as he coughed, and she stood from the chair that was positioned adjacent him.

 

“Ooooh, Elias!”

 

Thin arms wrapped around his neck, and Elias caught the sounds of his mother sobbing.

“You've been unconscious for two days! The doctors have kept you so drugged up…”

“Doctors?”

 

Leaning back, Elias's mother wiped her eyes before nodding and looking over her shoulder. His father stood by the window, eyes cast downwards. The mans shoulders were drawn, and aside from looking like he had the worst hangover of his life, he looked tired as well.

 

What, exactly, was going on?

 

And why did he hurt so much?

 

“Your brother called us as soon as he found out,” she continued, her voice shaky. With a soft sigh, she gave a watery smile and turned to look at Lucas. Elias did the same.

 

He was leaning against the doorframe of the room, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. His skin looked almost white—an unhealthy shade, unlike his normal fair-skinned complexion, and dark circles rimmed his normally sharp eyes. When his gaze met with Elias's, he looked weary, and his eyes held little to no intensity. Especially since he was used to seeing so much more.

“He's been very worried,” she muttered, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

“And I don't think he's slept much since you've been in the hospital.”

“What happened?”

“Oh honey, you were assaulted.”

 

The tears that had been brimming on her eyelashes spilled forward, and she stood from her chair. Shaking her head, she buried her face in her handkerchief, and turned her back.

“I need to go to the ladies room,” she blubbered, before fleeing.

 

Assaulted?

 

Elias tried to think of what had happened—beyond his brother.

Nothing came to him, except a black void of… well, nothing.

He honestly couldn't remember what had happened. Was he dreaming?

 

“I need to make a phone call.”

 

The father's rough grunt signaled his leave, as he turned from the window and marched out of the room. There was a silence in the air then, and it grew into an awkward tension as the room remained empty save for the pair. Shifting cautiously, Elias pulled himself into a seated position and gently touched the side of his head.

 

He felt like someone had hit him over the head with a brick.

And since no one seemed to want to tell him anything, for all he knew, someone had.

 

“Do you remember anything?”

“No.”

 

Lucas moved his gaze from the ceiling to the window, and a frustrated look claimed dominance on his features. Muttering something under his breath, he slid down the wall before landing in a heap of long legs and torso.

 

“The doctors said there was a chance you wouldn't.”

 

They fell into a silence again, and Elias found himself struggling for something to say.

But why would he say anything? Why should he say anything? He remembered feeling lost and unwanted because of Lucas. Because he had ignored him all that time. Something like that would be rather difficult to forget.

 

“I remember you,” he stated, bitterly. It was only when the words passed his lips, did Elias realize he hadn't meant to say that out loud. Lucas blinked, before looking to the door. When he looked back at Elias, the boy grew frightened. Getting to his feet, the older took a step forward, his eyes fixed on him.

 

Until their mother returned, brushing passed him in a hurry to get to where Elias lay.

 

“I've talked to the doctors,” she cooed, sitting down on the bed beside him.

Running her hands along his hair, she kissed his forehead numerous times before continuing.

 

“They said they can discharge you tomorrow. But you'll need to stay here while the police take your statement.”

 

“Statement?”

 

“We're pressing charges on that—that bastard who put you here.”

 

Her knuckles grew white and she twisted the material of her skirt in her hands. She tried to offer him a smile, but it looked too forced to be of any comfort. A hand fell upon her shoulder, and Elias started violently. Looking up, he got lost momentarily in a sea of green, before his brother looked down to their mother.

 

“You've been here for two days straight,” he commented, looking towards the door.

“Why don't you go home and get some rest? You look exhausted.”

“I'm fine,” she snapped. “Elias just woke up, do you really think I'm going to leave him here by himself? He probably hasn't a clue what's going on!”

 

I don't.

 

“I'll stay with him.”

 

Perfect.

 

His stomach was a bundle of nerves, and if it weren't for the fact that he was unsure of his own strength, Elias would have leapt at his brother and pushed him out the door. He was truly the last person he wanted to see at the moment.

 

His mother hesitated and looked to Lucas, before her shoulders drooped and she nodded, giving a soft pat of his hand. Standing slowly, she smoothed out her skirt and brushed back a lock of fallen hair that had slipped from the messy bun she'd tied it into.

 

“I guess I am rather tired …and if you stay here with him, he won't be alone.”

 

“I'm okay by myself,” Elias quipped, looking to Lucas before back to his mother. “I'm actually kind of tired.”

 

“Even still,” she replied, as she gathered her things into the large handbag she carried with her, “I'd feel better if Lucas stayed with you until you fell asleep.”

 

And with a peck on the cheek and another watery smile, she left.

 

If only she knew.

-*-

 

The tests they'd done had come out negative. So Elias hadn't been raped, like Sheek had first suspected. This was a good thing, but it still did nothing to quell the urge to kill the little shit that did this to him.

 

It had been hard those last several months, avoiding Elias like that.

He had some extra pocket money—a lot, actually—due to his excessive working, and Sheek was rather pleased with the rise in his marks at University. None of that mattered, though, because he had wanted to see Elias.

 

It was cruel, what Sheek suggested. Give him space, leave him alone. Especially after what they'd done. Only God knew what Elias was feeling, and Lucas didn't believe in God, so he was SOL.

 

He didn't understand why Elias wasn't allowed to come home. He had been in the ICU for three more hours the first day, and two days followed that before the doctors even uttered the word `discharge'.

 

Was he really in such a bad condition, or was it merely for observation purposes? They discussed it with their parents but neither their parents nor the doctors seemed willing to tell him anything. And it pissed him off.

 

The scathing look his brother sent him once their mother was out of the room stung a little. So he cleared his throat and slid back by the door.

 

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Are you sure you don't remember anything? Like… a face?” Social security number?

 

“Why do you care?”

“Why wouldn't I?”

“Because you hate me.”

 

Clenching his jaw, Lucas curled his hands into fists but hid them by crossing his arms.

 

“I don't hate you,” he began carefully. “I thought we've been through this.”

 

They fell into silence, and Lucas watched Elias as he pondered what to say.

His small hands picked idly at the threads on one of the blankets that was strewn over him, before he lifted his head.

 

“Then why did you ignore me?” he began, his voice shaking ever so slightly. “Why? How come it was like I didn't exist anymore? You barely even looked at me.”

 

 

Sheek's methods were horribly off. Lucas knew that he shouldn't have listened to him, for while his suggestion may have seemed logical, like the right thing to do, he'd known that it wouldn't make the situation any better.

 

His counseling skills sucked.

Regardless of what he was studying to be.

 

 

“I wasn't doing it to be hurtful,” he began, his mind swimming with suggestions of what to do, thoughts on how to handle the situation. “I was…trying to give you some space.”

 

“Space?”

 

Elias sounded dumbfounded, and his look matched his exasperation. Lifting his gaze from the blankets, he fixed them wearily onto Lucas's own before visibly resigning.

 

“Give me space,” he said, as if trying out the words. “You call pretending I don't exist, giving me space?”

 

“I was leaving you alone.”

“You weren't around.”

“Exactly.”

 

They stared at one another, and Lucas looked over his shoulder. Closing the door to the room, he turned back to Elias and stepped forward.

 

The boy immediately fell back onto the bed and yanked the covers up over his head.

“Don't touch me. Go away.”

“Elias--”

“Go away!”

 

Growling in frustration, Lucas leaned over the bed and yanked the covers away from Elias's head. Grabbing his shoulders, he pulled him onto his back and pinned him down with his weight. He ignored the momentarily pained expression that flittered along his features, and locked gazes with him.

 

“Listen to me,” he whispered, their faces inches apart. “I didn't do that to hurt you intentionally.”

“You did anyway,” Elias hissed, although his voice lacked the venom it had before. “and you'll do it again too, because that's what you're good at. Hurting people.”

 

Why was he being like this? Did he have to get on his knees and apologize?

Wait, why was he even bothering? He didn't care if his brother was angry with him.

 

Did he?

 

“You don't know anything, do you?” he bit out. Anger was working its way up inside of him, but he resisted the urge to lash out. They were in a Hospital, after all. Although help for Elias would be there on any call, it would have been a tad ironic if he'd gotten hurt.

 

“I know that you're a bastard,” Elias whispered. His voice was trembling, and under Lucas's fingertips, he could feel his arms shaking ever so slightly. “And that you don't care about anyone except yourself, and that you think you're better then everyone else, and —”

 

His words were cut off as Lucas pushed his mouth against his.

After a moment, he pulled away, and caught Elias's flustered look. Frowning, the boy parted his lips to speak.

 

“Shut up,” Lucas murmured, before capturing his mouth again.

 

He could feel the boys' resistance, and he could also feel it wane as he continued to kiss him. It fell altogether, and Elias's arms attentively came to wrap around his neck when his own grip slackened on his shoulders.

 

Their kissing grew needy after only moments, and Lucas mentally damned all that Sheek had advised him not to do. Especially when Elias arched his back, pressing his small body flush against him.

 

“He's in this room.”

 

Lifting his head from his brothers' neck, Lucas blinked.

 

“Shit.”

 

Pushing himself off of the bed, he smoothed down his hair and stepped away from where Elias lay. Tugging at the sweater he wore, he cleared his throat as the door opened.

Elias himself sat up, dazed, and looked towards the intruders.

 

The Nurse came in, smiled at Elias and turned back to the door. Extending an arm, she pointed to him.

 

“Right this way.”

 

Two officers, clad in uniform, marched in dutifully. They were both females.

One had her hands behind her back, and the other held a note pad and pen in hand. The Nurse smiled before turning. As the door closed behind her, the officers approached the bed and gave Elias pleasant smiles.

 

They would have been, anyway, if they hadn't looked so fake.

 

Elias though, seemed oblivious to the fact, and instead, yanked the pillow from behind him and sat back onto the mattress. Crossing his legs, he crammed the pillow into his lap and hugged it furiously.

 

Lucas almost laughed.

 

Almost.

 

“Hello, Elias.” The officer spoke with a soft Irish lilt in her voice, and she lifted the pen and paper as she pulled up a metal chair at the foot of the bed. The scraping along linoleum had the strangest effect on Lucas, and his mood grew irritable.

 

“My name is Officer Morgan, and this is my partner, Officer Jacobs. We're here because your parents are pressing charges.”

 

“He doesn't remember anything.”

 

The officers turned, as if noticing Lucas for the first time, and each gave him a very blatant once-over. Appreciation was replaced by irritation however, and Officer Morgan spoke.

 

“And you are…?”

 

“His brother.”

 

Officer Jacobs turned from Lucas and moved to the bed, where Elias clung to the pillow.

Gently, she eased herself onto the side and patted his foot.

 

“I understand what went on with you must have been hard, but we need to take a statement in order to have anything to present in Court.”

 

“He's right,” Elias said wearily. “I don't remember anything.”

 

Morgan frowned, and she exchanged glances with Jacobs before both their gazes seemed to drift back to Lucas. Suspicion laced in each of their glances, which, Lucas assumed, were supposed to be nonchalant, because they soon looked away. But he knew better.

 

“Are you sure about that?”

 

“Positive. I might later, though.”

 

Morgan stood then and carefully slid her notepad into the pocket of her uniform.

Giving him a warm smile, she motioned for Jacobs to follow, and when she did, her warm smile melted into a cool, stoic expression. They walked passed Lucas then, and Jacobs opened the door. Before Morgan closed it, she looked back into the room.

 

Looking to Elias, she locked her gaze onto Lucas.

 

“Be seeing you.”