Little Mac took a tentative seat next to the Doctor. He wasn't asked to, but he took off his gloves anyway. He shuddered. Without their warmth, the boxer's hands felt so, so, cold. The mental toll from the act was exhausting as well. Boxing had built Mac up; without those worn, torn virescent gloves, he'd be a nobody-a no-name on the streets. He laid his hands in his jacket, the same jacket that carried his sweat from optimistic times long past.
Doctor Mario turned around with a stone-faced look about him. "Mac. About-a your condition..." His foot tapped as he rubbed his chin. He was looking for a way to sugarcoat it, wasn't he? "It's not a-good."
The boxer half-stood, with a demanding fury in his eyes. "Give it to me straight, Doctor." Just then, there was a knock on the door. The plump man excused himself momentarily, heading to greet the stranger in the doorway. A silhouette hung in the door's window, and Mac recognized it immediately. It was tall and proud, but you could tell from a glance it used to be more at one point, like a star having lost a hint of its shine. Doc Louis walked with in a reluctance in his stride, less jovial than usual.
"Mac," his longtime trainer slowed, and sat down in a chair. "what's wrong?" He didn't bother with small-talk or idle chat. The genuine concern in Doc's voice pained him, choking him up to near-tears. He gestured to Mario, sorting out his pills nearby.
"Allow me to introduce myself," the Doctor briefly flashed his credentials. "it's a-me, Mario." He nodded dutifully, shaking Louis's hand. Mac put his hoodie up, in an effort to hide his shameful self from those around him. "This is a rather delicate issue, Mister Louis. Perhaps you should leave until..."
Doc Louis was looking at Doctor Mario, but his gaze extended far past him. He pushed himself off the chair, baring his knuckles in an understated outrage. "Doctor, you may know Little Mac, but you don't know Mac. I seen the boy struggle through things most men don't get to see 'til their forties. Kid's tough. Too tough, for someone his age. And if you're expectin' me to just stay silent while he goes through this, well, you got another thing comin'." Doc's voice shook, but he maintained his composure enough to intimidate. Mario bowed his head, sighing deeply.
"Care to explain, Mac?" They both turned to the crestfallen boxer, now staring at the rain-streaked window.
"Give it to 'im straight, Doctor." Mac said, closing his eyes in quiet acceptance.
"Mac..." Doctor Mario removed his headwear, holding it to his chest remorsefully. "He can't recover."