Ok, this chapter really isn't very well written, but the stuff in it
pertains to future chapters, so I decided to just post it already. (
*Don't own them, yada yada yada, you get the point.
The boy was going to be ok. Physically, anyway. As they brought him in, watching the doctors desperately save the boys life, Carlos couldn't help but remember.
*"You stupid, stupid boy! Don't you ever learn!" Carlos had been running through the house and broke a vase. It wasn't her favorite or anything, all that mattered was that he broke it. He knew what was coming now. With a kind of control beyond most adults, never mind a six-year-old child, Carlos allowed the blows to come, not even trying to defend himself. He had quickly learned that if he pretended to give in, make her think she had won, it would be over sooner. Dealing with this kind of regular abuse also taught him to distance himself, as so not to feel the pain. Oh, it would come later, and he would be in agony, but by distancing himself form it now, he was able to seemingly give in without a fight. Anyone, even a small child, would fight back when hit, but if he didn't feel it, he had no instinct to fight back.*
Sully and Davis found the boys' mother only a few blocks away perched atop a barstool. She was so drunk, she couldn't even stand unaided. With the mother in jail, the younger boy in the custody of the state, and the elder in the ICU, Carlos let out a sigh of relief. Finally, the shift was over, and they were back at the firehouse.
'Hey Carlos!" Kim yelled as he trudged n the door behind Doc, "You got a phone call."
Bewildered as to who or why anyone would be calling him at all, never mind at work, he replied, "Take a message, I have to clean out the bus."
She reappeared a minute later. "She says it's really important."
"Who is it?"
"Do I look like your secretary?" she snapped back, but then regretted it when she says the dull and lifeless looking his eyes. That last call had hit him pretty hard, and he, just like everyone else, just wanted to go home. "Hang on."
While waiting for her, Carlos busied himself pouring a mug of coffee. Just as he finished adding the cream and sugar, Kim reappeared again.
"She says she's your sister."
The mug he was holding crashed to the floor.
~My sister?! No way. That's impossible. I don't have a sister anymore. It can't be her. It's probably just some ex, looking to get back at him or something. Yeah, that must be it. Cause I don't have a sister.~
"Carlos? You ok?" Suddenly he realized everyone was staring at him. Doc had a hand on his shoulder, while Kim looked worriedly at him form across the room.
"Tell whoever it is that they are not funny. I don't have a sister." With that, he stormed out of the room, muttering something about cleaning the bus. Kim looked at Doc, unsure of what to do.
"I..I guess I'll talk to him." Doc said, stepping over the broken mug and falling his partner. When he got downstairs, what he saw was truly shocking.
Carlos-the tough, smart-mouth, inconsiderate, general pain in the ass-was sitting in the back of the ambulance, tears streaming uncontended form under his closed eyelids.
*Don't own them, yada yada yada, you get the point.
The boy was going to be ok. Physically, anyway. As they brought him in, watching the doctors desperately save the boys life, Carlos couldn't help but remember.
*"You stupid, stupid boy! Don't you ever learn!" Carlos had been running through the house and broke a vase. It wasn't her favorite or anything, all that mattered was that he broke it. He knew what was coming now. With a kind of control beyond most adults, never mind a six-year-old child, Carlos allowed the blows to come, not even trying to defend himself. He had quickly learned that if he pretended to give in, make her think she had won, it would be over sooner. Dealing with this kind of regular abuse also taught him to distance himself, as so not to feel the pain. Oh, it would come later, and he would be in agony, but by distancing himself form it now, he was able to seemingly give in without a fight. Anyone, even a small child, would fight back when hit, but if he didn't feel it, he had no instinct to fight back.*
Sully and Davis found the boys' mother only a few blocks away perched atop a barstool. She was so drunk, she couldn't even stand unaided. With the mother in jail, the younger boy in the custody of the state, and the elder in the ICU, Carlos let out a sigh of relief. Finally, the shift was over, and they were back at the firehouse.
'Hey Carlos!" Kim yelled as he trudged n the door behind Doc, "You got a phone call."
Bewildered as to who or why anyone would be calling him at all, never mind at work, he replied, "Take a message, I have to clean out the bus."
She reappeared a minute later. "She says it's really important."
"Who is it?"
"Do I look like your secretary?" she snapped back, but then regretted it when she says the dull and lifeless looking his eyes. That last call had hit him pretty hard, and he, just like everyone else, just wanted to go home. "Hang on."
While waiting for her, Carlos busied himself pouring a mug of coffee. Just as he finished adding the cream and sugar, Kim reappeared again.
"She says she's your sister."
The mug he was holding crashed to the floor.
~My sister?! No way. That's impossible. I don't have a sister anymore. It can't be her. It's probably just some ex, looking to get back at him or something. Yeah, that must be it. Cause I don't have a sister.~
"Carlos? You ok?" Suddenly he realized everyone was staring at him. Doc had a hand on his shoulder, while Kim looked worriedly at him form across the room.
"Tell whoever it is that they are not funny. I don't have a sister." With that, he stormed out of the room, muttering something about cleaning the bus. Kim looked at Doc, unsure of what to do.
"I..I guess I'll talk to him." Doc said, stepping over the broken mug and falling his partner. When he got downstairs, what he saw was truly shocking.
Carlos-the tough, smart-mouth, inconsiderate, general pain in the ass-was sitting in the back of the ambulance, tears streaming uncontended form under his closed eyelids.
