《Fight For You》Chapter Eleven - Hope and Smoking
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Lucas used his key fob to unlock the door with a sounding beep, before I tugged the passenger side open and quickly sat in the plush leather seating.
He opened the door to the driver's side and slid in, putting his seatbelt on, turning the engine on, and quickly reversing out of the parking spot.
"You shouldn't have left Daniel on his own," Lucas stated in his stoic tone. He pulled a cigarette pack from the center console and tugged one out before lighting and inhaling it, releasing a cloud of smoke that engulfed the car.
I narrowed my eyes at him. I hated the habit and there was no way he was pinning this on me. "I did try calling you, but you were too busy with your class to answer."
I noticed a muscle in his jaw twitch as he took another long drag.
"Do you mind not smoking in here?" I asked as the smoke wafted over to me.
He raised an eyebrow at me before drawing the bud to his plush lips once more, releasing the smoke-filled breath he held, and flicking it out the open window.
"You really shouldn't smoke, you know. Be cool - don't be a smoking fool."
A small smile tugged at his lips, "Sorry about Frank." He confessed shooting me a glance. "You shouldn't come here on your own."
"Daniel mentioned that to me. Didn't see that I had a choice." I turned away from him and looked out the window as we passed buildings.
"Do you do classes at the gym?" I asked, turning back towards him.
He nodded, "That was a beginner's class."
"Have you seen Daniel's list of goals he wants to accomplish?" I asked him. I didn't mean to, but I could hear the accusation even to my own ears.
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"It's unrealistic," he replied curtly. His fingers clutched a little tighter to the steering wheel.
"It's a goal." We pulled into the condo complex and he parked quickly, exiting the car and taking the pain killers with him. I stepped out of the car along with him and followed him into the condominium. "Don't you want to help him reach his goals?"
He ignored me and stepped into the elevator, holding the door open for me as he did so. I stepped inside, the silence overwhelming.
We walked out of the elevator and he hesitated outside of apartment 4D, large hand on the doorknob. "Of course, I care about his goals. I care more that he doesn't get disappointed. He's had enough disappointments to last him a lifetime."
"He needs your hope more than he needs your caution." I replied softly.
Lucas opened the door without another word and walked inside. Daniel hadn't moved an inch, his eyes closed and his face pained. I walked to the kitchen and filled a cup with water before walking over to where he stood and helping him take the pill.
He peeked an eye open at me, "You came back for me, Em. I always knew you would."
I laughed, "You're so dramatic."
Lucas stood in front of Daniel, a concerned expression etched onto his face. It took Daniel a few minutes before the pain killers kicked in and he could slowly move his upper limbs once again.
"Sorry, Lucas." Daniel said sheepishly moving his neck from side to side. "I hate the goddamn cold."
"There's nothing to apologize about, Danny." Lucas responded. His face was pained as he watched his younger brother slowly stretch out his arms widely. He swivelled on his heel abruptly, "I should get back."
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Daniel nodded at his brother, but I could tell that it hurt him to see him go. I wondered if he knew about the classes that Lucas taught to kids his own age.
Lucas began to walk out of the condo and I decided to follow after a moment. My job was to see to Daniel's health and that meant talking to his stubborn brother about something that meant a lot to him.
"Lucas, wait," I called from the door. He had walked to the elevator, but turned his head as he heard my voice. He stood with his eyebrow cocked, waiting for me to speak. Suddenly, I couldn't remember what I'd followed him out here to say.
"Um," I began nervously, shutting the door so Daniel wouldn't hear me, "Listen, I know you don't seem eager to teach your brother, but for some reason it means a lot to him. It's good for him to be active. If he were to recover, it'd be through activity."
He let out a sigh of frustration, "Recover?" He snapped bitterly, "he's been in a chair for a year, Emily. He needs pills to help him move when it's cold. He needs me to help him with a catheter every morning. I put his clothes on. I don't know what recovery you're seeing, but I'm seeing a man that needs to accept his fate, without being encouraged to think things are going to magically change for him."
I just stared at him, my eyes wide. I'd never heard him speak so much and it left me with sorrow for Daniel if he ever heard that from his own brother.
Lucas turned quickly and got into the elevator, leaving me and my gaping mouth open. I walked back into the apartment to Daniel who looked as though his cheeks were flushed, his eyes darting around.
"Were you listening?" I asked suspiciously.
"Nah," he replied, but I could sense the hurt in his tone.
"Can I ask you why you want to fight so much?"
He looked away from me for a moment, "My dad was a boxer. Nowhere near as good as Lucas is, but he loved it so much, he opened the gym. He died when I was born and Lucas used to teach me what our dad taught him. I guess I just wanted to be included in it again."
"I'm sorry, Daniel. It takes time for people to come around sometimes. But, Lucas loves you." I said quietly to him.
"I know. But, it's not easy for me to see him training kids my age. Showing them things he used to show me."
I sat quietly, taking in his words. "Why did he ban you from going to his street fights?" I asked. It would make sense not to let a child in there, but it seemed as though that was a new development.
"He used to take me a lot, before my accident. I went once after my accident and some guys started picking on me because of my chair. Lucas walked out of the ring and beat them to a pulp. Almost got charged for it, too."
I sat with Daniel for the rest of the day, beginning on his therapy recommended by the doctor, but thoughts of Lucas plagued my mind. I'd get him to teach Daniel, if it was the last thing I did at this job.
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