A/N Hey, I'm here again :) Very big thank you to JassyLou for her co-work and of course thanks for your reviews. Well I hope I can fulfil your wishes. Have fun and enjoy :)
Football
If ever someone was coming to him - telling that the new generation of youngsters was indifferent and self absorbed - he swore himself he was going to give this someone a piece of his mind. He didn't even know this blond boy who just had stood there with his strong shoulders and offered them his blood. This was anything else than a matter of course. He watched the boy and came to the conclusion young man did match better. Looking at his well trained body made him a little envious, but this was the advantage of youth.
"Nice bruise you got there. Football?" He asked. It felt impolite just to sit there next to him in silence, while they both gave their blood to his son.
"Huh?"
"The bruise on your upper arm, did you get it through a football match?"
"No." This was short. Okay, not everyone was playing football.
"So, why do you want to drop out from school?" He tried to find another topic to talk about.
"Dunno…too dumb I guess."
"Why?" He couldn't imagine someone was too dumb for school. Not everyone was a genius, but c'mon school graduation was at least the lowest level of education reachable to everyone.
"Because the gene pool I emerged from didn't over the best qualifications for an academic career?" The tone was…testy and sarcastic all the same? This wasn't even his son capable of.
"Okay, sorry. I didn't want to touch any sore points." He apologized.
"Listen, Mr…only because I give my blood to your son doesn't mean you have to force yourself to a conversation with me." Bang! This was evil. This boy was rude. Since when did one talk to an unknown adult that way?
"And you don't have to be such disrespectful towards me."
"Not being talkative means being disrespectful?"
"If you don't like to talk you could have said it." Something was wrong about this situation. This behaviour didn't match…he was giving his blood to his son and the same time he behaved like one of these rude kids he had to deal with everyday at work. He was sure, none of them ever would have come to the thought doing, what the boy was doing right now.
It took a while until they were finished. The boy put on his jacket and started to leave.
"Hey, wait…" He stopped him in the hallway. The young man turned around.
"Thank you." He said, looking intensely into these blue eyes, trying that way to show him what he had done for him and his wife. The boy only shrugged his shoulders.
"Is okay. I hope…your son will be okay soon."
"No, wait…" He was reluctant to let him leave like this. Okay, he was a little smug, but hey.
"Is there…anything I can do for you?"
"No, thanks."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah,…I did this because I wanted to help…I don't expect a reward." Huh? This was strange. Not even in Newport - where people had everything they wanted - someone did you a favour without expecting a reward. The boy actually was able to surprise him. Before he was able to say something again, the boy was gone. But he found him again talking to a doctor? Of course…in a sudden he realized the boy wasn't here just for fun, no wonder he was in a bad mood.
"What does it mean I can't see her?" The boy sounded agitated.
"Your mother is moved to the ICU. She's in a critical state." Damn. Poor boy. Hearing this must be hell for him. Stop, was he listening to a stranger's conversation? Man, he was nosey.
"But way? You told me this…was a routine."
"Yes, but…due surgery your mother sustained a crippling stroke."
"What? How?"
"This is exactly what I would like to get to know from you." The doctor answered in a harsh voice. Man, this was a kid. Couldn't he be a little more sensitive, by telling him his mother was very sick?
"How shell I know? I…this is your job."
"Yes and thus we hand every patient a form they have to fill which asks questions about their medical past. Well and your mother's form didn't give any reasons to expect complications like that. What means your mother didn't fill it correctly. So it would be helpful I you now tell me what might have caused the stroke." Snotnosed asshole. He was sure if the doctor wasn't talking to a kid, he wouldn't behave in such way.
"Sorry, I didn't know there was such a form. If I had known I would have filled it for her…but…What the hell do you want from me?!" From awed boy into a mature self-confident and aggressive young man in less than five minutes, this was a development.
"I'm searching for reasons for the stroke."
"I don't know." The boy now said determining.
"That's exactly what I doubt."
"So, you already know what's wrong with her. What do you want then?"
"I want to get it to know from you…just pro forma, to be sure." Oh, oh. There was this ugly high-handed smile on the doctor's face, people used to have when they were aware of the inferiority to the person they were face to face with. How much would he have liked to step in, helping the boy, but he only would make things worse.
"You wanna let me look like a fool, don't you? Just letting me know I'm nothing more than a dumbass never getting far anywhere? So what now when I tell you my Mum's an alcoholic, do you start feel like the greatest dig in the house or what?" Language, boy, watch your language. He reproved him inwardly. But hey, the kid couldn't be that dumb if he noticed what game the doctor was playing.
"That's all in wanted to know, just to be sure…you're really from Chino." This was hard. He watched the boy. His body tensed up and he was clenching his fists. Fact, if he was going to run riot, the hospital was going to need a renovation.
"Can I see her now, please?"
"No, maybe tomorrow." Man, this was hard. This boy only wanted to see his mother a normal natural instinct.
"Sure, it's only a half journey around the world coming here everyday."
"You could have let her admit into another hospital. It's not like we have not enough work without her."
"Fuck you." The boy said and went off. Wow, this was rude. On the one hand he was helping other people, saving other people's life and now this? This didn't match. But he hadn't to care about this. His only concern was his son now.
"Excuse me doctor." He ran after the man who has had the conversation with the boy.
"Yes?"
"Can you tell me where I can find Seth Cohen?"
"The boy with the ruptured appendix?"
"Yes."
"Down the hallway. Thanks of the other donator he'll be fine soon. Besides, do you know who it was?" He loved to do so.
"The boy you've slammed down a few minutes ago." The doctor looked at him - stunned. He went to his wife and his son. He still was asleep and she was holding his hand, gently stroking through his hair. She looked tired.
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"Hey, how is he?"
"He's tired, but they say he'll be okay soon." He felt relieved. His son was going to be okay again. He promised he stopped working so hard on the problems of others and start to care more for his family. This had shown him he needed to pay more attention to them. They were the most important part of his life. He couldn't risk losing them.
"How are you?" His wife asked.
"Uh…dizzy. I underestimated the effect of a blood donation."
"Honey." She said, got up and kissed him. "Maybe you only need something to eat."
"No, I'm fine. I stay here with you." He wasn't going to leave his family now.
"A few seconds ago you told me you feel dizzy." She had caught him.
"C'mon. Get something to eat and then come back."
"Okay." He kissed her. Only now he noticed he really was hungry. And he was no use for anyone if he started to pass out or run out of energy. They needed hundred percent of him. He went down the hallway and out of the hospital. He had decided not to eat in there. He never had liked the food they served there. On the other side of the street he saw the boy waiting at the bus station. He looked pale and pretty rough. After losing a half litre of blood he probably didn't feel better than he did. He went into a little shop, got tow bottles of water and when he saw the boy still sitting on the other side he decided to go to him. After all he had listened to, the boy perhaps needed some supporting words. The boy was staring onto the ground, not noticing him standing next to him.
"Here you need to compensate the blood loss." He said, handing him a bottle of water. The boy looked up - distrustful.
"Thanks, but I can wait until I'm home." Defensive. This was it. The boy wasn't smug, but defensive. Now his whole behaviour made sense. Honestly, he could have come to that a little earlier.
"And when are you home?"
"Dunno, depends on what time the bus arrives." This was quite exactly, now he knew how far he was from home.
"And how long is the bus ride?" Not being talkative was quite understated in respect to the boy's desire to communicate with others.
"Uhm…two and a half if the traffic isn't as bad, apart from that three."
"Hours?" The boy only shrugged his shoulders and then ducked his head again. He was really far from home.
"I can give you a ride." He offered.
"No, thanks." Well, the boy started to sound annoyed.
"Something to eat?" He was reluctant to give up. But he had no idea what mechanism inside of him pulled him that far. Normally he would have let him go, but there was something between him and the boy what didn't allow him letting him go without anything.
"Please, I already had a shit day and I would appreciate it, if you just leave me alone."
"Sorry, I didn't want to annoy you."
"Don't take it personal, I'm only tired." This sentence…it was wrong. He shouldn't have to apologize for telling a stranger to leave him alone, unless he wasn't such a churlish boy he pretended to be.
"Okay, kid. Just an attempt." He answered and patted his shoulder. He flinched and immediately he knew the boy didn't play football.
He entered the room again and found his wife thumbing through a magazine. She looked up when he came in.
"What I wanted to ask, how much did you give him?" She laid the magazine aside, when he sat down next to her.
"What do you mean?"
"They boy. How much money did you give him?" Huh?
"Nothing." His wife was getting snobbish and he wasn't sure if he liked it. Earlier she never would have asked questions like that. Okay and she probably never had asked a boy who was offering them help, if he was a junkie. But since she was working together with her Dad she had changed.
"Really? C'mon Sandy. I know you always try to persuade me of the good side of these kids. But if they really were good kids you won't have to work with them, right?" He only sighed. It was useless to start a fight about this topic again.
"He even refused my offer to give him a lift home or getting him something to eat."
"You did what?"
"I offered him a lift home, where's the problem?" He hadn't to ask what problem it was. He already knew it. Prejudices.
"Have you looked at him? He easily could have mugged you and beat you to death. Sandy, your benevolence is endangering you."
"Kirsten, there was a time I myself was one of these kids, growing up in a poor area, ruled with crimes and violence, having no perspective. If nobody had helped me out, who knew where I would be now?" He tried to explain her again. But she wouldn't understand. She had stopped understanding the situation of the kids he was working with - kids the boy probably belonged to.
"I know, I know, but you never committed crimes." That was true.
