Ms Sassy is back with another chapter y'all! Hope you enjoy it! If there's anything you wanna see shoot me a PM or leave me a review and I'll try my best to fit it in somewhere!
I don't own the Outsiders.
please leave me a review!
love y'all!
Ms Sassy
-/-/-/-
I cleared my throat in an attempt to break the tension that had quickly settled over the room. Turns out I probably shouldn't have done that because once I started I couldn't stop.
I was doubled over, my arms wrapped around my chest, hacking my brains out. This did nothing for my poor head, I mean I really can't catch a break today.
I knew something was very wrong when I tasted a coppery liquid in my mouth. I've had enough busted lips to know what blood tastes like, that was blood in my mouth. Dread filled me as I came to the conclusion that one of my ribs must have pierced a lung.
"-Two-Bit?" I look up, only catching my name out of what ever it was Carroll had said.
Still coughing, I turned my face away and held my fisted hand to my mouth till the worst of the coughing stopped.
In my doubled over position on the couch I heard Michael explain to Carroll how he had found me in the alley. I slowly moved my hand away, hoping they weren't paying attention as I saw the blood on my hand. It wasn't very much, just enough for me to worry about.
"Is that blood!?"
I looked up at Michael quickly with wide eyes, "What?" I asked in a high pitched, hoarse voice.
"Are you coughing up blood?" He repeated. Not waiting for an answer he turned back toward Carroll, who was looking a little green, "where's mom? He needs help."
"She's not home yet, her shift just ended so she should be here soon. But we need to take him to a hospital!" Carroll exclaimed.
"I ain't going to no hospital," I rasped as I wrapped my arms tightly around my chest, hoping to relieve some of the pain as I sat hunched over on the green and red plaid couch.
"Why not?" Carroll asked with an owlish look.
"Don't like 'em, don't need 'em, to expensive," I explained through clinched teeth. "Just get me some pain killers or something and I'll be out of your way."
I really wanted out of here, not only was I in pain and weak, but I was in pain and weak in front of strangers! Well okay, they weren't total strangers, they where my dad and my brother. But I didn't know them any more then I knew the hoods who jumped me.
"Absolutely not!" I flinched and groaned through clinched teeth as Carroll shouted. What is it with people shouting in my ear today?
Completely oblivious to my discomfort, Carroll continued.
"Your going to set right here until Vivian or I say otherwise! Your in no condition to be out there by yourself!"
"I've had worse and done just fine by myself," I state defensively, my pounding head making it hard to concentrate on the "conversation" we were having.
Seeing my discomfort, Michael stepped in. Thank you, Michael!
"Dad I don't really think he's up for a yelling match right now," he said, putting a hand on Carroll's shoulder.
Carroll looked startled, as if he just realized he had raised his voice. I rolled my eyes, quite a stupid move on my part I as soon figured out when this aggravated my poor, aching head and caused things to start spinning around.
I clutched my stomach and looked around frantically.
"Keith, what's wrong?" The suddenly concerned Carroll asked.
"Bathroom," I grunted as I pushed myself into a standing position, swaying drunkenly, letting the use of my real name slide for the time being.
"Over here," Michael took my arm and led me quickly down the hallway, I stumbled after him. He ushered me into a small bathroom and I was quickly on my knees in front of the toilet dry heaving, as I had already emptied my stomach of all it's contents in the alley.
I wrapped one arm around my torso, my ribs protesting every move I made, and clutched the toilet with my other hand.
I felt something cold and wet pressed against the back of my neck and looked up long enough to see Michael standing over me with a washcloth.
After a few agonizing minutes I was finally able to lean back, panting shallowly, against the bathtub beside the toilet.
Michael pressed the washcloth to my forehead and offered me a glass of water, which I accepted and drank readily.
"Thanks," I rasped before closing my eyes and resting my head against the tub.
"How is he?" I heard Carroll as from the doorway.
"Not so good, I don't think, he took a pretty bad beating from what I can tell," Michael answered with a sigh.
Just then I heard someone open the door.
"Carroll, Michael? Is everything okay? The door was unlocked." I heard a feminine voice ask as the sound of high heels clanked down the hallway.
"We're in here Vivian, come quick," Carroll called. The heels sped up.
Opening my eyes I saw Vivian rush up to Carroll and grasp his arm.
"What is it? Is Michael o-" she stopped short as she laid eyes on me. "Who is this, what's he doing here and why isn't he is at a hospital?" She demanded as she let go of Carroll and stepped past Michael, kneeling down in front of me.
"Vivian, this is my son, Two-Bit. Remember I told you about meeting him a few months ago?" Carroll said a little nervously.
"Yes I remember," was all she said as she took the washcloth from my head and started dabbing it at a cut on my chin that I hadn't even noticed.
Filching slightly, I watched her lazily from my half closed gray eyes. I was really wiped out, I don't think I've ever been so tired in my whole life.
She had on a fancy dark gray nurses uniform - not scrubs but an actual uniform - her hair was jet black, done up in what I think was called a French twist and her eyes an icy blue that reminded me of Darry's, only her's were much softer.
"I found him in an alley, he had been beaten pretty badly. I tried to talk him into going to the hospital but he wouldn't do it, so I figured here would be the next best place so you could take a look at him," Michael explained. "He was coughing up blood earlier and seems really unbalanced and he's gotten sick to his stomach twice."
Vivian gave me a worried look before standing and turning to Carroll and Michael.
"We need to get him someplace more comfortable. Help him to the guest bedroom," she directed with an authoritative voice. She then quickly walked out of the bathroom and down the hallway.
Michael helped me stand up, I stood hunched over to relieve some of the pain in my ribs, one arm wrapped around my chest and the other painfully over the kids shoulder.
Michael bore most of my weight as we awkwardly hobbled out of the bathroom and past Carroll. He led me further down the hall, away from the living room, and into a small, cozy bedroom, where he helped me ease onto the twin sized, light blue bed.
Vivian walked into the room carrying a black bag, which she set on the foot of the bed. She then moved closer to me and put a pillow between me and the headboard for me to lean back on.
"Take off your jacket and your shirt," she directed.
"What?!" There's no way I was taking off my shirt for some woman I didn't know just for her to look at a few bruised ribs, okay probably a little more then just bruised, but oh well.
"Take off. The shirt," she commanded more firmly, her soft eyes hardened and became much more serious.
I gulped but did a she said, wincing and biting back a groan as I lifted my Micky Mouse shirt over my head.
A collective gasp swept through my "audience" as they got a good look at my black and blue ribs. I'll admit, even I was a bit shocked at how bruised they were. But hey, they looked like they felt.
The bruises were mostly on my left side and my back from where I had tried to stay curled in a ball to protect my front, though there were a few dark bruises on the front of my chest where someone had managed to get in a few hits, and some scattered over my shoulders.
"Who did this to you?" Carroll asked, anger and - was that a hint of concern?- evident in his voice.
"I don't know, just some hoods," I said with a shrug, which caused me to hiss as it aggravated my bruised and battered body.
"Probably some of those Brumly boys, that gang has been jumping a lot of people around here lately," Carroll said lowly.
"No, it wasn't any of the Brumly's."
"How do you know that? I though you said you didn't know who jumped you."
"It wasn't any of the Brumly's because I know all of them a-" I was cut off by Carroll.
"What do you mean you know the Brumly Gang?!" He asked with a shocked look, "their a bunch of no good hoods!"
"Watch what you say about hoods," I said tensely as I shot him a dirty look. I really didn't want to fight right then, my head was pounding and my whole body ached, not to mention I was starting to get tired.
Carroll took a step back, several looks crossed his face: disgust, shame, anger, a hint of fear, and finally, mistrust.
I brushed it off as my eyelids were getting heavy. I gingerly leaned back against the pillow, I closed them just for a moment.
"Sit back up, I have to look at your back." I looked up to see Vivian standing over me with a stethoscope in her hand.
Deciding it wasn't worth the fight, I leaned forward with a groan, placing my head in my hands and propping my elbows on my knees.
I let out a sharp gasp when the cold metal touched my bare back.
"Sorry," Vivian offered with little sympathy, I got the feeling that she didn't like me too much, "just breath as deeply as you can," she instructed as she moved the stethoscope around to listen to my breathing.
I tried my best to do what she said, but as soon as I took that deep, painful breath I erupted into a coughing fit.
It subsided quicker then the last one and Vivian handed me a cloth to wipe my mouth.
Michael looked at his mother worriedly as the white napkin came away with a splotch of blood on it.
"He doesn't have a pierced lung, it's just chest trauma, usually caused by a hard fall or extensive beating, the bleeding and coughing will stop in a few days." Vivian continued to poke and prod at my ribs and looking at my head, asking me some questions and then she finally wrapped my chest tightly with a white bandage, put a bandage around my head and stitching the few cuts that scattered my face.
"He's got two broken ribs, three cracked and most of them bruised, and a concussion, other then that just a little scraped up. Nothing that won't heal in a few weeks, although I would recommend you went to a hospital," Vivian said to me, Carroll and Michael, who stood at the foot of the bed.
I just have her one of my best crocked little grins and shook my head.
"Thanks for fixing me up, I'll get out of your hair now," I said as I struggled to put my shirt back on, finally giving up and deciding to just ware my leather jacket.
"And just where do you think you'll go?" Asked Carroll, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Home," I said simply, without looking up.
"How are you going to get there?"
"The bus,"
"And walk from the bus stop to your house all by yourself in that condition? I think not. Is there anyone I can call to come get you?"
I looked toward the clock on the bedside table, 5:00, surely Darry is off work by now.
"Yeah, Darrel Curtis, he'll come get me."