Life Sentence

- Chapter 2 -
I Got This

by TeeJay

—==''''==—

Summary:
Corporal Jake Sully is hit by a piece of shrapnel and finds himself lying in a Venezuelan VA hospital with a pair of useless legs and a big hole blown through the middle of his life. Pre-movie.

Author's Note:
I usually don't like people who beg for reviews, but, come on guys. One meager (but wonderful) review for my first chapter? You can do better than that! Otherwise, yes, I'm gonna accept the harsh truth that my story sucks. :o)

A huge thank you to goes out J who offered to beta-read this story for me. You've been a great help!

Disclaimer:
There's a few dialogues and scenes towards the end of this story that were taken from a 2007 version of the movie script, so these are obviously not mine. Neither are the characters or situations of this story or the movie. They are property of James Cameron, Twentieth Century Fox, Lightstorm Entertainment or other copyright owners. No copyright infringement intended. Mr. Cameron, it has been a blast, playing in your sandbox. I hope you don't mind.

Rating:
Rated T (PG-13) for language

—==''''==—

A forest, luscious green tree tops, shrouded in mist. He was flying over them, gliding like an eagle who just spread his wings and let the wind carry him. The trees came closer, he was gliding lower and lower, banking left and right to dodge leaves and lianas. It was exhilarating. He was free. This was great. So great that he wanted to scream in pure joy.

And then, suddenly, the forest was gone, replaced by glaring white neon lights and a slight tugging at his arm.

A male nurse he'd never seen before was fumbling at the cannula taped to the back of his hand. "I'm sorry, didn't mean to wake you," the nurse said.

"It's okay," Jake mumbled. At least he bothered to apologize, which was more than you could expect of most of the staff.

"I'd like to remove your cannula."

Jake shrugged, his voice still sluggish. "Don't let me stop you."

The nurse grinned. "And here's the best part. We're not gonna put a new one in."

"You really know how to make my day."

The nurse looked at him. "There's also a downside."

"Damn, couldn't you have mentioned that earlier?" Jake quipped.

"You've gotta drink more. Since we're not pumping saline into your veins anymore, the fluids are gonna have to come in the usual way. Two liters a day. At least." The nurse held out a hand for Jake to shake. "David, by the way."

"Jake."

David smiled. "I know."

"I don't suppose you could take out the catheter too, could you?"

"Nope, sorry, no luck there."

"Yeah, well, I guess you gotta take what you get," Jake sighed.

"So, you ready for breakfast?" David asked.

"If it's not stale bread and strawberry jam, I'm game."

"Let me see what I can do."

—==''''==—

An hour later, Tom came to visit, a display pad in his hand. "Jesus, are all VA doctors so tight-lipped?" he sighed.

Tom had stayed a whole week. He was at Jake's bedside every day. Some days they didn't have much to talk about, some days Tom would prattle away about his science projects or his colleagues. Jake couldn't always follow his ramblings, but it didn't matter. His brother was here, and he was infinitely thankful for the company. They had talked more in the past six days than in the last two years.

Tom put the pad on the corner of Jake's bedside locker. "Okay, I think I've got it all set up. Your transfer paperwork is on here, and some research on the kind of injury you have. I've read some interesting articles on new techniques they're trying. There's a clinical trial in Ohio with biosynthetic implants that sounds promising. Now I'm just waiting for the Marine Corps administration to give the go ahead to have you flown out of here. They said they might be able to put us on one of their shuttles to the States day after tomorrow."

Jake had to admit it felt good to know that someone had his back, once he'd accepted that Tom wasn't going to go away. "Sounds good." He forced a smile.

"Cool," Tom said, "and you—"

The mobile comm device in Tom's pant pocket suddenly beeped. He got it out and looked at its small display. "Sorry, I gotta take this."

Jake watched him leave the room, sticking the MoComm in his ear.

Tom's face was one big smile when he came back a few minutes later. "Jake!" he called, "Jake, I don't believe it. I got in! The Avatar Program, I got in!" He beamed at his brother expectantly.

Jake broke into a genuine smile. "Wow, that's awesome!" He knew how much this meant to Tom, how hard he'd worked for it. Tom hadn't been able to stop talking about it over the past few days.

"It is, right? I can't believe it. I'm really gonna go to Pandora."

Jake's spirits suddenly fell. A few days ago, Tom had told him he wasn't going anywhere, that they were going to do this together. And now he was saying they were going to shoot him out into space to be a guinea pig on some distant planet. What did that mean?

Tom immediately realized what was going through his brother's head. "No, Jake, don't worry. They don't need me for another few months. The next training program only starts in November, and it takes three years until I'm ready to go. I still mean what I said."

Jake's eyes narrowed for a second, but then he smiled encouragingly. "It's cool, Tom. I'm gonna be okay on my own."

"Yeah, let's shelf that conversation until I'm shipping out, okay? Until then, you can work on making it sound convincing."

There was a sound from the door, and they both watched as David came in, pushing a yellow and black wheelchair in front of him. A mischievous smile tugged at his lips. "Jake Sully, may I introduce you to your new set of wheels?"

Jake was suddenly overwhelmed by a tumble of mixed feelings. He had both been looking forward to and dreading this moment. The clumsy hospital wheelchairs were utilitarian and not very maneuverable—and the bruises on Jake's knees and legs showed it. It still creeped him out that they didn't hurt at all. Things would be so much better if he could move around with more ease. But getting his own wheelchair, it also drew a final stroke. It meant his fate was sealed and he'd have to get ready to move on.

"Wow, look at that," Tom said.

Jake didn't feel quite so overwhelmed anymore. "It's a wheelchair."

David pointed a finger at him. "Aw, come on, it's the coolest wheelchair on the whole compound. Here, it folds up too." David pushed down on a handle and demonstrated it.

"Lovely," Jake said cynically. "I feel so special."

Tom gave him a scolding look. "Jake, you could show a little enthusiasm. It took a lot of calls to get it here so fast."

But David broke into a lopsided grin. "Don't worry, the two of them will get acquainted." Looking at Jake, he said, "You should name her."

Jake raised his eyebrows. "Her?"

"Yeah, don't you think she looks like a she?"

"It looks like a piece of carbon and fabric."

"You'll learn to appreciate her, trust me."

Jake just shrugged. "Yeah, whatever."

—==''''==—

"Welcome to your new home. Well, for the next few weeks, anyway," Tom said as he held the key card to the access panel in the wall.

The door slid open to reveal Tom's crammed, untidy apartment and Jake wheeled inside, followed by his brother.

"Sorry for the mess," Tom shrugged apologetically.

"You call this a mess?" Jake took in the items of stray clothing hanging on the backs of chairs and piles of display pads on the small couch and metal couch table. "Dude, I've lived in army camps. You don't know what a real mess is."

Jake had reluctantly agreed to live with Tom for a few weeks, until they found a place that was, to use the politically correct term, barrier-free. Jake's old place definitely wasn't.

Tom's apartment would barely have enough space for two people. The times were people had enough room to live comfortably were long gone, unless you belonged to the top-income class and could afford living on the outskirts of the cities. Everything was standardized these days, starting with the size of cubicle-like apartments in anonymous, monotonous building blocks that loomed between maglev train tracks that whooshed past almost inaudibly.

Jake pulled his army bag from behind his back onto his lap. "So, where can I put my stuff?"

Tom half-heartedly started putting things away where they belonged, but then realized that tidying up could wait. "You can take the bedroom, I'll set up shop in the living room."

Jake stopped and turned the wheelchair around to face his brother. It didn't help that he had to look up to meet his eyes. His tone was suddenly angry. "What is this, a charity ball? There's no way in hell I'm sleeping in your bed while you camp out on the couch in your own apartment!"

"Jake, we've talked about this—"

"We have not talked about this, you have. I don't see why I can't go back to my place anyway."

Tom sighed. "And then what? The elevator doesn't work half the time, and the location is completely not convenient."

"Convenient," Jake snorted in contempt. "You know what would be convenient? If I had my legs back and didn't have to rely on a fucking wheelchair to get around."

Tom's eyes grew hard and determined. "Yeah, well, reality check. You can't."

Jake's voice was filled with sarcasm. "That's right. I can't. Thanks for reminding me. As if this," he slapped the side of the wheels, "wasn't reminder enough."

"Jake," Tom said, biting back another sigh. "Please don't do this."

"Do what? Be paralyzed? You know, I'm trying real hard not to right now."

"Fine," Tom's voice was cold, "keep up the attitude. You still sleep in the bedroom. It's not open for discussion."

"Fuck you," Jake spit out, but still wheeled into the bedroom.

"Nice, Jake," Tom muttered under his breath.

He wondered if this was what he'd have to deal with for the coming weeks. The doctors at the VA hospital had already warned him that the next few weeks and months would be difficult. Jake was going through the typical stages of grief. He had already been through 'denial', so this must be the beginning of 'anger'.

As Tom opened the refrigerator to see if anything edible was left in it after his rushed departure and almost two weeks' absence, he hoped he wouldn't regret his decision to take care of his brother.

—==''''==—

"Shit," Tom heard an angry curse from the bathroom, then a clanging noise and more expletives.

He drew closer but stopped in front of the closed bathroom door. "Jake, you okay?"

"Yeah," he heard a muffled sound, then a distinct, "Fuck!"

Tom opened the unlocked door. His brother, naked, was trying to hoist himself into the bathtub, but the wheelchair had rolled away and Jake was sitting on the floor, trying to heave his body up.

"Jesus, Jake, why didn't you say something?" Tom went to his brother's aid.

"No! Don't!" Jake sharply shot back. The vehemence in his voice stopped Tom cold. "I got this."

Tom just stood there and watched, feeling very helpless as Jake groped for the edge of the tub and made another attempt. This time he managed to get his hip up to the level of the edge of the tub, but then his hands slipped. He toppled backwards and thudded onto the cold bathroom floor.

Tom was by his brother's side in three quick steps. "Jake!"

"Get away from me!" Jake yelled at him, but this time Tom didn't acquiesce.

"Jake, you can't do this alone."

Jake straightened into a sitting position and started to lash about with his hands. "No!"

Tom tried again. "Jake, please." He grabbed his brother's wrists and fought him until Jake capitulated.

They looked at each other for a long moment. The rage in Jake's eyes suddenly turned to crushing humiliation. His insides churned and tears of shame welled up that Jake couldn't stop.

"Tom," he whispered, "I can't... I can't do this."

Tom let go of Jake's hands and kneeled next to his brother. Jake faltered for a moment, before he gave in to the sob that heaved up his chest. Tom hesitated a few seconds, then gently placed his hand at the back of Jake's neck and drew him into an embrace.

They sat that way for a few, long minutes, Jake crying in his brother's arms for legs and a life lost in the South American jungle.