Vicious people doing despicable things

11 The Fall

Nam

My pulse is pounding in my head. I feel sick. I'm holding this blue cold pad over my left eye. My hand's going numb with the cold. I still taste blood in my mouth. I threw up in the toilet ten minutes ago. I tried to wash the smell of puke from my mouth but I can still taste it too. I haven't seen my face yet, but I suspect it looks worse than after the most brutal fights in the ring. I was good in the ring. It didn't help me tonight, though. A doctor is asking stupid questions about today's date and my full name. I'm not concussed. I'm fine. I'm not crying, but tears are running down my face like a fucking waterfall, and I can't stop them. I let them roll, and they fall on my lap. I'm still wearing the dress. People were throwing me looks when we waited to be called in. Mark was scowling back at them. The doctor doesn't seem fazed by my look. He's okay. But I hate it when he shines his flashlight into my eyes. It makes me want to sneeze and retch again.

Mark is holding my hand, the one not holding the cold pad. I can't bring myself to look at his worried face. I'm glad he's here with me, but I hate that he witnessed all this shit. I hate that now he'll see me differently. He'll see me as broken and frail. I hate it.

I'm going to be sick again.

"What happened?" Doctor asks. I pull the cold pad away from my face and stare at my bare knees. I forgot to put my shoes on. The clinic staff gave me these plastic single-use boots. I must look like a total freak. Mark squeezes my hand. "I'm asking because, if it was an assault, we can report to the police."

I take a deep, shaky breath.

"What else can it be, if not an assault?" Mark steps in.

The doctor puts his flashlight on the table and adjusts his glasses. "An accident. Say, he fell down the stairs."

I nod. "I fell."

The doctor sighs. I think he's sad. He wanted to be a hero, to help catch a bad guy. I disappointed him, too.

"That's it then. Take the medicine, rest well, and avoid stairs."

"I think he's done with stairs for the rest of his life," Mark says firmly. I'm not sure I like what he means by that.

Mark

Mom and Dad are already asleep when we get home.

I give Nam my old elephant pants – they have strings to stop them from falling off his skinny hips. I fail to find a fresh shirt, so I give him the one I bought today for Luc. I don't feel even a tinge of guilt. 

Nam stands in the middle of my room, looking lost, like he doesn't know how he got here. I hate seeing him like this. My chest feels tight just looking at him. All the bruises and swelling. I hate it. It's my fault. I left him there with this psycho.

It seems stupid to ask him whether he's alright. I gently put my hands on his shoulders. His body's trembling. He avoids my eyes. "Go take a shower," I say softly and press a light kiss to his temple.

He shakes his head. "May I not?" His whisper goes straight into my heart, squeezing it tightly.

"It'll help you to relax." I brush a strand of hair off his face just to watch it fall back a moment later.

He rubs his forehead with his hand and nods. "Yeah, I'm gross." It's not what I said but okay, at least he goes to the shower. He's so quiet. He's never been so quiet. I hate it. I don't know how to fix him. I think about calling Luc – he's a med student after all – but I have no any idea what time it is in Europe and I really don't want to bother them on their vacation.