Rock and Roll

Chapter Nine: Concussion

It had been a week. She had shown up to watch Harry train everyday, and everyday he tried to make conversation. She only responded with short answers and head nods. He kept trying though. She couldn't understand why. Most people gave up within an hour of her putting up her brick wall.

She checked up on her dad everyday. The bags under his eyes kept getting bigger and darker. She stayed the night almost everyday that week to keep him company. She was so worried about him, and how he was handling everything. He and Hero were all she had, and she would be damned if she was just going to sit by and watch them fall apart.

"I'm moving back in," she said. The words fell very suddenly out of her mouth, surprising even herself. She was sitting at the dinning room table, sipping coffee and watching her dad read the newspaper. The idea struck her as a passing thought. It would be a good way to keep an eye on him even if she had to sacrifice the convenience of living so close to work and the coffee shop.

"What do you mean you're 'moving back in?' Do I even get a say in this?" he asked setting his newspaper on the table. She couldn't tell what he was thinking but she pressed on anyway.

"I'm moving back in with you. I think we both need somebody to lean on right now. I get tired of waking up in a empty apartment dad," she said. She had lied about the empty apartment thing. She didn't really mind it but she was willing to do anything to convince him.

His smile was so bright. It was the first time she had seen it in months. He picked his newspaper back up and read it gleefully.

"I've got a train to catch to work," she said, "but I'll be back tonight so we can talk about this a little more,"

"Alrighty I'll see you tonight," he said. He stood from his seat and kissed her cheek. He already looked less tired. His eyes were a little brighter.

In half an hour she was at the gym where Harry was waiting outside. She smiled briefly at him while he opened the door for her.

"Wow somebody's peppy today," he remarked. She knew she would regret smiling.

She strolled to her normal position in the corner of the room and started to scroll. Harry started punching.

It didn't take him long before he was sweaty and asking her questions.

"How many days until you warm up to me?" he asked. This was only the first in a long series of questions she wasn't going to answer. He was like a large teddy bear or happy dog. Bouncing all over the place and excited.

Then she received a text. Her phone buzzed loudly in her hand. A strange feeling crawled up the back of her neck. Her phone screen was on and she caught a glimpse of the text.

There was a fire.

She stood up so fast she slammed her head against a metal bar above her causing a loud slamming noise. She slipped back onto the floor holding her head. She yelled in frustration. There was a fire, somewhere. She wasn't there and she needed to be.

She was surprised when she saw a hand reach down to help her up.

"What's going on? Why are you in such a hurry?" he asked. She grabbed his hand and he hoisted her up. There was a feeling that was deeply wrong in the pit of her stomach. She had to leave. She had to leave right now.

"There's a fire," she said as she checked the text from her father once more, "a fire at my Dads house. I have to get down there," she said. She twisted her hair in her hands. The floor was swaying underneath her. Something was wrong with the building, or maybe it was her eyes.

She willed her feet to move. They didn't. Instead of walking toward the door like she had planned, she sank to her knees once again, and threw up on the linoleum.

She hit her head harder than she thought. She didn't know where Harry went but she assumed somewhere far away. She could hear his footsteps surrounding her, or maybe that was just her heart pounding in her ears. What was wrong with her?

She stood again. She had to leave, had to get to her dads. He needed her. If there really was a serious fire then.. everything of her moms was destroyed. He would be devastated. Hero would be devastated. 

She was halfway to the door when she felt arms wrap around her waste and pick her up. His voice rang through the air, "You have a concussion. You can go check on your dad later,"

"No I can't," she said. He didn't understand. "I have to go now," 

She fought against his arms, but to no avail. He had her in a very tight grip and was walking out of the door. He held he up with one arm, miraculously and locked the door behind them. He carried her off toward the train station and did his best to keep her awake.

They arrived at his apartment sometime later. He had held her up with no problems the whole way there, even after she had given up on the twisting and turning. He sat her down on his kitchen counter and started to dig through his drawers. It was small and smelled like cats and cologne. The walls were white and swirling, but the latter was probably due to the concussion he was insisting she had. She thought it was a load of shit but he had yet to question it.

"How do you know I've got a concussion? And when are you letting me out of here. For all I know you're a murderer looking for his next victim." she said. She was leaning slightly to one side, though she wasn't aware of it. He smiled at that even though this was a serious moment. 

Over the past week she had answered a total of six questions and three of them were one word. He was fond of her anyway, and the way that when he turned his back after saying something particularly dumb, she would smile briefly. It was a small acknowledgement to the fact that even if she ignored him she was still a human being.

He found the flashlight. He clicked it one and shined it in his eyes to check if it was working. It was. After a few moments of blinking spots out of his eyes he told her to follow the light as best she could.

She asked why, and he just repeated himself. She followed it well, but not well enough. She had hit her head pretty hard. She had a concussion, definitely.

"Are you comfortable with staying here tonight?" he asked. She shouldn't move around a lot. He had his fair share of head injuries in the past and knew that trying to fight it only caused trouble. 

"No. I have to go see if my family is alright. I have to go now." she said. She pushed herself off the counter and landed upright on her feet. He watched as her knees buckled underneath her and she fell in a sullen heap to the floor. He thought he heard her sniffing before she forced herself upright. She tried once again to stand, and this time she succeeded. He was getting worried about her, watching her self destructive determination. He had seen the same look in someones eyes before. She wasn't going to stop until she was satisfied.

He had seen the same look when he was being savagely beaten for not paying back his debts on time. He winced at the memories of old scars. That's not what he wanted to think about right now.

"What if I go? and make sure they're alright I mean?" he asked. He figured it was a good solution. She would know they were fine and he would know she was fine.

"You don't even know where it is." she replied. Her eyes slowly moved from his tile floor to his face. It was like looking at her for the first time. She was a whole different person now, in his apartment viciously trying to get to her family. She was a warrior in that moment. 

"Then tell me," he pleaded. If she was going to be stubborn there was nothing he could do, unless... no he can't lock her in his apartment that's kidnapping.

"Fine." she said. She spouted off the address to a place on the other side of town. He told her he would be back and to not touch his paints.