Life Sentence
- Chapter 3 -
Deal
by TeeJay
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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:
Thanks for your wonderful reviews, guys. Keep them coming! Without further ado, here's chapter 3.
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
—==''''==—
"Yes, I understand that this is an unusual request," Tom said into his MoComm. "Yes, I know." There was a silence as he listened, then his voice got an annoyed edge to it. "Okay. Well, thank you anyway. Goodbye."
He hit the OFF button, then muttered, "Yeah, thanks for nothing."
"No luck?" Jake asked.
Tom had been making calls all morning to try and find an apartment for Jake to live where he didn't have to rely on constant help from others. It had become such a rare condition for someone to be confined to a wheelchair that it was extremely difficult to even find housing or equipment that was made especially for the disabled.
"They recommended I try elsewhere. Again. I don't understand why the Marines can't take care of this."
Jake snorted disdainfully. "Yeah, right. You've heard their take on this. It's nice and easy to blame the economy when it's not the rest of your life on the line."
"Well, we have the one place I called yesterday that we can look at this afternoon."
"Right," Jake agreed.
Tom had tried hard to make it sound like an okay place to live, but Jake knew where that building was located. He had been in that area of town a few times, and it didn't evoke fond memories. His vet benefits were a joke, and it was gonna be damn near impossible to find a decent place with money to spare for food and necessities.
But sharing Tom's cramped place for three weeks was taking its toll on both of them. They were fighting almost every day now. There was always something Tom found to complain about, or something Jake was getting frustrated with. It was high time Jake got out of there.
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"Okay, I'll take it," Jake said to the unkempt landlord who looked like he hadn't slept for days and not showered for much longer than that.
"Jake," Tom hissed.
Jake looked up at him. "What!? It'll do."
Tom looked at the landlord. "Will you excuse us for a minute?"
He stood behind Jake's wheelchair and pushed him into the bathroom area. There were no doors, no compartments. It was basically kitchenette, bedroom and bathroom rolled into one.
Tom looked at his brother, incredulous. "Are you serious? This place is nothing more than a prison cell."
Jake narrowed his eyes, a vehemence to his words Tom hadn't expected. "Okay, let's really get serious here for a minute, little brother. How long have you been calling people now? There isn't anything better than this. You should know that better than anyone. It's got what I need. It's halfway clean and it's cheap."
"Jake," Tom sighed. He couldn't bear the thought of his brother living in a standard issue, gray 5x6 box. "Let's reconsider. I'll find some place bigger that we can share. Just give me a little more time."
Jake laughed a hollow laugh. "Share? Geez, no friggin' way I'm gonna live with you for much longer."
"Oh no? And what does that mean?"
Jake shook his head. "The constant squabbles, your complaints. Jake, have you done this? Jake, why haven't you done that? It's seriously getting on my balls!"
Tom was taken aback for a second, but his patience was also lasting only so long. "Okay, fine, if that's how you feel, you can rot in this hellhole for the rest of your life. See if I care."
"Good," Jake said sarcastically. "Then I guess it's settled."
He wheeled past Tom and approached the landlord who was still standing in the same spot as before.
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The beeping of Jake's video call screen was getting annoying. The bright yellow icon flashed irritatingly and Jake couldn't ignore it any longer.
It was Tom. Again. Jake had switched off the recording function of his video calls because he was getting sick of his brother leaving him messages all the time.
Jake wheeled over to the screen and hit the annoyingly flashing icon.
"Jake!" Tom's face appeared on the screen. "Thank God, I was really getting worried. You stopped answering messages, and I can hardly reach you anymore."
Jake said nothing. He wasn't really in the mood for another guilt trip or lecture.
"Are you okay?" Tom asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Jake said gruffly. "What's the emergency?"
"Huh?" Tom looked confused for a moment. "No, no emergency. What, I can't call my brother unless there's an emergency?"
"Cut the crap, I know something's up. You don't call without a reason."
Damn right. Tom had that definite 'caught in the act' look in his eyes, and Jake recognized it immediately.
"Jake," Tom sighed. "What is going on with you? The clinic called me, they said you stopped coming to physio."
"The physio is a joke. All they ever do is make you swim around in circles and do pushups. I don't need that shit."
"Yeah, it's real easy of you to say that. I'm paying a lot of money for that 'shit', Jake. You could at least have the courtesy of telling me you're quitting."
"Is that what it's about—the money? Well, in that case, you can be glad that I'm not doing it anymore. Means you won't have to spend any more money on a no-good loser like your brother."
"Bullshit. Shows how much you know. I had to pay in advance, for the full three months. It doesn't make a fucking difference if you go or not. So unless you want me to shred your sorry ass, you better get the same down there next week."
"Or what?" Jake countered provocatively.
"Or I'm gonna drag you there personally." He wasn't joking.
"Didn't I just tell you that the whole thing is a joke? I get more of a workout by wheeling myself up and down the hallway."
Jake could see his brother rubbing a hand over his face on the video screen before he spoke. "Okay. I obviously can't force you to go. This is not gonna work if you don't want it. But I can tell you that you're not doing either of us a favor by quitting."
A bubble of resentment welled up in Jake. "Then I guess that's what I'm always gonna be, the quitter. The guy who could never get anything right. The dumb grunt who couldn't even—"
"Stop. Stop being sorry for yourself. That's not gonna change anything."
"Spoken like a true shrink," Jake spat at him sarcastically. "You sure you don't wanna change your specialty? You surely got the brains and attitude for it."
Tom rubbed his eyebrows with both hands. "Jake. I just wanna h—"
"Help, I know," he interrupted. "What if I don't want your help?"
"What if you do but don't know it yet?"
Jake didn't have an answer for that. He sighed. "Tom, seriously, why are you doing all this?"
Tom's eyes looked at Jake determinedly through the screen. "Because if I was in your situation, I'd want my brother to do the same thing for me."
Jake lowered his head, suddenly very self-conscious. He nervously played with his fingers in his lap, then looked up to meet his brother's eyes. "Okay. I'll go to physio next week, I promise."
Tom smiled a small smile. "I'd really like to believe that."
"You can come shred my sorry ass if I don't, how about that?"
His brother's smile widened. "Deal."
—==''''==—
One push to get out the door, brake with both hands to hold the keycard up to the access panel next to the door so it would close. Five pushes to the elevator, reach up to hit the button with the downwards arrow. An extra hard push to make the wheelchair pass over the ridge of the elevator door. Trying not to look at his own image in the mirror for the few seconds it took to the ground floor. It was all a well practiced routine for Jake now.
He checked his digital watch. Damn, he was late. He looked up and... whoa, he almost collided with—
His brother.
"Tom?"
"You're late."
"Wait, are you checking up on me?" Jake asked jokingly.
"You did say I could shred your ass if you didn't go to physio."
"Yeah, well, I didn't think you would actually do it."
"So, are you?"
"What? Going to physio?"
"Yeah," Tom confirmed.
"Jesus, I can't believe it, you are actually checking up on me. Don't you have your lab geeks to hang out with or something?"
Tom's face turned more serious. "Jake, this isn't a laughing matter. It's important. It'll help going back to..."
"Normal?" Jake finished the sentence.
Tom sighed. "I don't know. Normal is relative. What's normal anymore anyway? I don't think anything's really been normal since Mom died."
It was a touchy subject, one that had driven a wedge between the twins. Their mother had been the last thing connecting the two of them. They had lived such separate lives after they finished school. There was never any question that Tom, who couldn't be dragged away from science texts and research logs, would go to college and become a biologist.
Jake had chosen a different path, looking for something that would present a challenge. Seeing an ad for the Marine Corps on an advertising screen, he had looked into it and signed up. He never questioned whether it was his destiny or his dream. It was a job, something to throw yourself into, and that was enough in his book.
Tom never approved of it. Even though he hadn't openly said it in those words, Jake knew that his brother frowned upon any job that condoned doing harm to living beings. While Tom also knew it wasn't quite so black and white, he had no respect for the military.
Their mother had loved them both, unconditionally, the way a mother does. Her death came as a blow to both of them, but instead of drawing them closer together, it had the opposite effect. They couldn't agree on a funeral arrangement, they couldn't agree on the tombstone and what was going to be on it, they couldn't agree on the speech to give at the funeral. In the end, Jake had relinquished the arrangements to his brother, tired of the constant fighting and Tom's unintentional yet stinging condescension.
They hadn't really had much contact since then, not before Jake's accident. There was a woman about a year ago, Tom's girlfriend, Nicole. She had made several attempts at getting the brothers to reconnect. Eventually, Nicole and Tom hadn't worked out and she had faded from Jake's life along with his brother.
And then, a piece of shrapnel had turned everything around. There was a certain irony in that. While it had severed Jake's spinal cord, it had reconnected the two brothers.
In the building's lobby, Jake started pumping the wheels of his chair to propel himself in the direction of the door. He didn't much feel like talking about family or other tragedies. "I'm gonna be late if I don't get a move on."
"Mind if I go with you?"
Jake shrugged. "Sure. Whatever."