With A Little Help
By Morganperidot
Talking loudly on his cell phone as he walked to his car, Ari Gold didn't hear the person who had come up behind him. He didn't know anyone was there until the first blow to his back sent pain exploding through his body and he went to the ground hard, his knees smashing into the pavement, his hand shooting forward, dropping the phone that skidded ahead of him before coming to a stop, its screen dark and shattered. The second blow brought his head to the pavement; his expensive dark glasses dropping to the ground as his vision was blurred and then snuffed out.
Ari woke on an uncomfortable bed in a room with bright lights that hurt his eyes when he opened them. "Turn the damn lights off," he said. He closed his eyes again and tried to turn…then realized that he couldn't. He couldn't move his legs at all. His eyes shot open, and he saw the hospital room, all stark white and silver metal. Mrs. Ari was there, along with someone in a white lab coat who was probably a doctor. Then he remembered being attacked on a public street in the middle of Los Angeles. His heart was pounding hard, from zero to sixty in under a minute, when he fully understood the situation. "I'm paralyzed," he said.
"We need to run some tests, and do an MRI," the doctor said. He was a pretty boy who was a good ten years younger than Ari and had perfect California boy blonde hair and blue eyes. "You have several damaged vertebrae…"
A master of it, Ari didn't need to hear some bullshit. "Is it permanent?" he asked.
"We…"
"Could it be?" Ari asked, keeping his gaze on the doctor because he didn't want to see his wife's face at that moment.
"It's a possibility…"
Ari waved his hands. "Give me some air for a minute," he said. "And someone get me a fucking cell phone."
"Great," Eric Murphy said, shutting off his cell phone and putting it back in his pocket. Ari's assistant Lloyd hadn't given him much information other than rescheduling their morning meeting with Ari to the afternoon…at the hospital. Lloyd had deflected Eric's attempts to find out why Ari was in the hospital, but there was unsteadiness in Lloyd's voice that made Eric uneasy as well. It had to be something serious.
"What?" Vincent Chase asked. Dressed in a dark t-shirt and jeans, he was sitting on the kitchen counter stuffing potato chips in his mouth. The guy ate crap like crazy but never gained an ounce.
"Ari's in the hospital," Eric said.
"Is he OK?" Vince asked.
"Lloyd didn't say much," Eric replied. "The meeting's been moved to 2 pm at the hospital."
"Aren't you supposed to be meeting Sloan at 2:30?" Vince asked, hopping off the counter as he crumpled the top of the chips bag.
"Yeah, I'll have to change that," Eric said. He took out his phone and dialed Sloan's number. She answered on the second ring, and he explained the situation.
"Do they know who did it yet?" Sloan asked.
"Who did what?" Eric asked as he reopened the bag that Vince had left behind.
"Who attacked Ari, of course," Sloan said.
Eric nearly choked on the chip that was halfway down his throat. "Someone attacked Ari?" he said.
"Don't you ever watch the news?" Sloan asked. Eric wasn't going to tell her that he, Vince, Drama, and Turtle had been playing the latest war game on Vince's new system for hours until Lloyd called. "Someone attacked Ari right on the street next his car," Sloan said. "They haven't released much info but supposedly he's in bad shape."
Ari leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes. The cell phone Mrs. Ari had brought him was still clutched in his hand. He had made the phone calls he needed to, talking to colleagues and upper-tier clients, reassuring them that he was fine and still solidly in the game. He had lied firmly with the usual Ari Gold flourish and ferocity, and he had almost believed it himself. But then the MRI results had laid waste to his confidence, and at the current moment he felt his inner strength crumbling. How was he going to be an agent as a cripple? His future-gazing insight didn't show him a viable path.
A couple of detectives from the police department had come to ask him a bunch of questions about the attack. Ari hadn't seen the attacker or anything that he could link to an identification of the person, so he couldn't help them much. Besides, he knew it didn't matter if they caught the guy; the damage was already thoroughly done. It was unlikely he would ever walk again, much less race all over LA like a cheetah on acid. His days as a top agent were numbered, and that number was a small one.
Lloyd knocked and poked his head in the door. "Vince and E are here," he said, with what seemed like a hint of hope in his tone. Ari hadn't started turning away clients yet, but that was on the horizon for the ones he still gave a shit about. Ari knew Lloyd would stand by him if he decided to somehow fight through this, but he also knew a lost cause when he was in one. So many years in the business had taught him to know when something wasn't going to pan out.
Vince and Eric walked into the room, and each of them came over to the bed and clasped Ari's hand. Ari felt his heart sink in his chest; he had never been one for serious self pity, but he had a feeling it was going to surface this time. He'd had the best time in his career working with Vince and his loser friends; letting go of that was going to be the hardest. "Jesus, Ari, what the hell," Eric said. "We heard what happened…"
"Yeah, you and this whole fucking town," Ari said. "Forget about it. Everything is good." He released his grip on the phone and set it on the bed. "I spoke to Universal…"
"Just take it easy, Ari," Vince said. "You should take care of yourself right now."
Ari parted his lips and almost said something about the paralysis, but he stopped himself. "There's no time to hesitate on this picture," Ari said. "There are three other stars that want to steal this away from you. I got you in there tomorrow at 3. Be on time."
"OK," Vince said. "Get some rest, OK, Ari?" He walked past Eric and opened the door.
Eric didn't move. "I'll catch up with you," he said to Vince who shrugged and shut the door behind him when he left.
"Go ahead after your meal ticket," Ari said. Eric pulled a chair over to the bed and sat down. "Get out, E," Ari said. "Is that plain enough for you?"
"How bad is this, Ari?" Eric asked.
"I'm good," Ari said. "Now get the fuck out."
"Sloan told me she heard it was bad," Eric said.
"And what, you want to have a fucking party if it's true?" Ari said. He knew that there were going to be a lot of people celebrating when they learned the full extent of his injuries. "Get the fuck out of here E or I'll have Lloyd throw you the fuck out by your tiny dick," he said.
"How bad is it, Ari?" Eric pursued.
The hell with it, Ari thought. "Your boy will be taken care of," he said. "I'll see to that."
"What?" Eric said. "You'll be back…"
"I'll be wrapping some things up," Ari said. "I won't be back in the office."
"Until when?" Eric asked. Ari didn't respond. "What the fuck, Ari?"
"I'm an agent without any legs," Ari said in a low, dark tone. "Are you happy now? I'm not going back, ever. I'll get you another motherfucking shark, and Vinnie will be fine, as long as you don't fuck things up for him. Now get your bitch ass the hell out of this room."
* * * * * * * * * *
Eric got on the highway and just drove for a long time with no destination planned. He had canceled with Sloan; he felt like being alone and just not thinking for a while. Finally, after driving for nearly an hour he pulled over on the shoulder of the road and stopped. He just sat there for a while looking at the Pacific and thinking what the fuck? He and Ari had butted heads a million times, but the idea of Ari not being there to butt heads against – not being in the game at all – was just unfathomable. And it didn't make any sense. Most of what Ari did was in his mind and out of his mouth…why were his legs such an issue?
Eric considered his options; as it was he had Ari out of the picture, which should have been a relief. But the bottom line was that he liked Ari – they all did in some weird way – and Ari was sort of part of their crew. Eric knew he couldn't just let Ari fuck this up, if for no other reason than to repay the dozen or so times Ari had kept Eric and Vince from fucking things up or helped them out when they did.
He dialed Ari's number. "What now, E?" Ari asked.
"You're being a little bitch, Ari," Eric said flatly. "If you drop out of the game now you're going to be this person's bitch forever. You are going to have to live with this person being the one who broke you."
There were a few seconds of silence, and then Ari said, "I don't need a therapist, E. And if I did, I wouldn't pick some former pizza boy who is doing a half-assed job as the manager of a couple clients."
"You know I'm right, Ari," Eric said, really pushing the issue. "If you let go you are owned by this fuck."
"Fuck you, Eric," Ari said, and Eric heard real anger there that was beyond the bullshit they usually played. So he knew he could do one of two things: let go himself or push this over the edge and see if that snapped Ari back into it.
"Fuck whoever did this, Ari," Eric said. "Are you going to let some fucking cowardly asshole beat the shit out of you from behind and push you right out of your game? Are you a man or just a little crybaby cunt? Are you a little pussy bitch?" Eric was sure Ari was going to hang up on him, and he waited for the sound of the line going dead. Instead there was just silence for nearly a minute as Eric watched the waves on the beach below the highway. He was starting to think that maybe Ari had just tossed the phone away when Ari spoke again.
"My little boy is all grown up," Ari said. "So, you have listened to me, E."
"Yeah, well, it's hard to avoid it with all the yelling and screaming," Eric said.
"You need me in this that bad?" Ari said.
A thousand replies came into Eric's head, but he immediately decided against most of them. "Yeah, we need you that bad," he said.
After another, briefer pause, Ari said, "OK, you've got me."
**********
Physical therapy was a bitch, as was learning how to use a wheelchair. Every day the pain and exhaustion were almost enough to make him quit, but Ari couldn't get Eric's voice out of his head or the knowledge that Eric was right. The king couldn't go down like that, beaten from behind by some coward who still hadn't been captured. That bastard could take Ari's legs, but he wasn't going to shut down Ari Gold completely. Fuck that. Ari's anger fueled him to work physically like he hadn't in years, or more likely ever.
And he kept things going on the business end as well, first at the hospital and then at home. And finally he was strong enough physically and mentally to go back to the office, tearing down the hallway with his wheelchair and his two huge bodyguards. When he arrived at his office door the people standing around clapped, and he responded with a rare real Ari Gold smile followed by barking at them to get back to work. He rolled over Lloyd's foot when he tried to open the door, and told him not to fuck the bodyguards. Then he wheeled over behind the desk and smiled.
A short while later Lloyd said, "E is here."
"Send him in," Ari said.
Eric walked in and shut the door. "You look good, Ari," he said.
"Don't get all gay on me, E," Ari said. "I have enough of that from Lloyd." He wheeled to the end of the desk. "Now, come hug it out, bitch," he said.
Eric walked over and gave Ari a brief hug before sitting down. "The Universal movie is going great," Eric said. "Looks like another blockbuster."
"So you haven't screwed that one up," Ari said. He turned in his wheelchair and pulled a script off a shelf. He tossed it to Eric who caught it across the room. Ari's arms had become almost scarily muscular and strong from the physical therapy and the chair. "Give that one a read," he said.
"What is it?" Eric asked, looking at the title page. "I haven't heard of it."
"Right, and that's why I'm here," Ari said. "It's one of those piece of shit indie films that you and your boy are always whining about doing. But this one has an Academy Award-winning screenwriter and an up-and-coming director that give it a chance at being more than something self-absorbed twats go to see before the poetry slam."
"You've read it?" Eric said.
"Yes, E, I have read it," Ari said. "And yes I did mean 'piece of shit' figuratively. Is there anything else I should explain again about the business or what I do?"
Eric smiled. "No," he said. "And thanks." He stood up and went to the door.
"Eric," Ari said. Eric turned and looked at him. "I'm only going to say this once…"
"You already did," Eric said. He held up the script. "I'll give you our comments when Vince has had a chance to look at it." He opened the door and closed it behind himself.
Ari leaned back in his chair and smiled for a moment, then his cell phone rang and he went back to work.