Good Enough Chapter 5
#6 of Good Enough
Chapter 5ive--Awake
Damien woke in stages. First hearing came and he heard a steady hum, a calm beeping, and... footsteps? Someone was pacing nearby, irritable. Second was feeling. The numbness in his body started to wear off and his eyes fluttered open slowly. Almost at once, he regretted it--light flooded into his eyes and he shut them quickly, groaning in irritation. But someone else made a gasp and within seconds, he felt himself being lifted from the soft surface on which he lay, someone's arms wrapping around him.
Panic rushed through him--was he going to be suffocated? His side ached with pain and he could feel the hold tightening.
"SELENE, GIVE HIM SPACE!"
His panic started to fall away. He recognized that voice and he recognized that name. The arms pulled away and he opened his eyes to see his mother's face, looming over him worriedly. Just behind her, he could see his father, standing at the foot of his bed and craning his neck to get a good look at him.
"Mom? Dad? What're you doing here?" he questioned groggily, his voice strangely weak.
"How can you ask that?" his mother, Selene, gasped. "Where else would I be when my baby's in the hospital?"
Hospital? Steadily, he began to look at his surroundings and he was aware of the discomforting stench of antiseptic filling the room. Inwardly cringing, he outwardly winced at the pain in his side. He looked down, frowning at the white bandages he saw, now stained in stomach-turning crimson.
"What happened?" he asked.
"You got shot, trooper," said a new, yet familiar voice. Damien's head turned and he saw his elder brother, Nathan, standing to his right with his sister, Amy, by his side. "Got to say, I'm impressed. Takes a lot of guts to take a bullet for your lady."
"That's not funny, boy," chided their father, Marcus.
"I wasn't joking," Nathan answered. "I'm proud of him."
"For getting shot? That's nothing to be proud of," Marcus snarled.
"Can we not argue right now?" Amy interrupted. She leaned in closer to Damien. "How're you feeling?"
"Confused. Kind of tired... and hungry." He thought for a moment. "Where's Anna? Is she okay?"
"She's fine," Amy assured him. "She's actually asleep right now." Amy pointed and Damien looked around his mother while his father stepped aside. Slouched awkwardly in chairs were his friends. Anna and Torrie looked relatively comfortable but somehow (and in quite an amusing manner) Ozzy had wound up on the floor, his arm clinging weirdly to the leg of the chair. Damien would've laughed but he noticed something that made his stomach turn--there was blood on Anna's blouse.
"Was she hurt?" he repeated.
"No--"
"Then why is there blood on her shirt?" Damien demanded.
"That's_your_ blood, moron," Nathan scoffed. "She's fine. She just stayed here because she's worried about you... All of them were. Hell, your panther friend was so upset that he's waiting in the hallway. I don't even think he went to sleep."
"... So everyone's okay?"
"Yes," Selene said kindly. "Please, just wait. I want you to focus on--"
"Whoa, strangers in the room!" said a drowsy voice that sounded almost drunk and slurred. They looked--Ozzy had woken up and looked completely confused. His noisy awakening had roused Torrie, who hurriedly shook Anna awake. For a brief moment, there was an awkward silence as Damien's family stared down Damien's friends.
"Who are you people?" Ozzy asked.
"Guys, this is my family," Damien explained, stopping Marcus from his usual, irritable introductions. "That's my mom, dad, Nathan, and Amy. And that's Ozzy, Torrie and Anna."
"Nice to meet you?" Ozzy murmured uncertainly.
The door to the room opened, and Damien felt as though the tension had increased palpably. Thomas's reentry had drawn everyone's attention and he looked up from his phone in surprise. But his eyes quickly saw Damien staring at him and he exhaled sharply.
"Glad to see you're awake, puppy," he said and Damien could hear the relief in his voice. But Thomas looked a wreck, disheveled and exhausted, his eyes strangely bloodshot. And Damien noticed splotches of blood on Thomas's clothes too... Had they even gone back to the dorms since...?
"Thanks," Damien answered uneasily. There was another lull in conversation and Damien had never before wished for some kind of noise, anything to fill the void, even one of Ozzy's stupidly asinine jokes. Yet everyone was quiet for some reason.
"I think I want to go back to the dorm, get some proper shuteye," Torrie said finally. She stood and stretched, her hair messy, no doubt from the awkward what she had slept.
"Me too," Ozzy agreed. "Ozzy sleepy."
They looked over at Anna, who shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I don't mind staying here. I mean, I think I should..."
"Miss, I think you should at least go change," Selene said kindly. "If you want to come back, I can send Nathan or Amy to go get you."
"But..." She looked from Selene to Damien who shrugged. "... If you think so, ma'am."
"Guess that means I'm driving," Thomas offered.
"Like hell you are," Ozzy scoffed. "You've been up all night. I'm driving."
"You sure you're not too hungover?" Thomas snorted.
"Still good enough to kick your ass if I need to," Ozzy replied. He walked over to Thomas and, in a bold display, withdrew Thomas's keys from his front pocket. "I'm driving," he insisted, dangling the keys in front of Thomas's face.
"Don't ever do that again," Thomas said when the surprise wore off, snatching the keys back.
Ozzy shrugged and started to walk off, a certain swagger to his step as he left. Anna and Torrie soon followed, with Anna pausing at the door to look back at Damien.
"I'll be back, sweetheart."
Damien nodded. "See you soon."
"I'll bring you something good to eat," Thomas said, "when I come back. Want me to bring you anything?"
"Just my phone... and my backpack," Damien remarked. "And maybe my guitar..."
"Don't bring the guitar," Marcus interrupted. "Leave that where it is."
An uncomfortable pause followed Marcus's order and Thomas nodded, looking downward. "Okay. Be back in an hour, maybe two..."
"Okay. See you soon."
They walked out and Anna stopped once more to give a small wave.
"Lively group of friends you have," Selene said when the door closed behind Anna. "They're very... interesting."
"They're weird, but so is Damien," Nathan said.
"Ow, my pride," Damien said with a roll of his eyes. "It's got to be against the law to insult someone in a hospital bed recovering from a gunshot." Yet Damien found himself happy to be surrounded by family. Regardless of how annoying Nathan could be, he missed them greatly.
"So, what's the story between you and the calico?" Nathan questioned.
"What do you mean?"
"She your girlfriend? Did you two...?"
"What? No! We've only been on one date! And you see how that turned out," Damien answered. He gestured towards the bandages and winced slightly. "How long was I out?"
"Hours," Amy answered. "You're lucky your friends were around to get you here."
Damien nodded, feeling a swell of pride and gratefulness. Then, his eyes narrowed as he thought of something else.
"Why did you tell him to leave my guitar behind?"
"You don't need it in here," Marcus said, "and I'm wondering whether or not to take it back with me."
"What? Why?"
"I heard the whole story from the panther," Marcus said. "Apparently, your music has taken precedence over your studying. You should spend your weekends studying, not partying."
"I wasn't at that party!" Damien retorted. "I went to a rehearsal. I got a new band."
"Even still, had you been in your dorm instead of out at night--dressed in black!--this wouldn't have happened," Marcus insisted.
"That's a leap in logic," Amy interrupted, just seconds before Selene could deliver an angry reply. Marcus's angry gaze focused on her but she, unlike Damien or Nathan, didn't shrink away. "It's just bad luck and circumstance that this happened. No one's at fault and no damage is done. He wasn't killed and there wasn't any permanent injury by the sound of it."
"Wait outside," Marcus ordered. "Both of you," he added, gesturing at Nathan and stopping any reply.
Amy shrugged and started to walk out, followed closely behind by Nathan. The door closed behind them and Selene stood up from the edge of the bed. Her arms were crossed as she exchanged irritable glares with her husband. Damien couldn't remember a time when she looked angrier than his father.
"I want to speak with him alone," Marcus said. "I can't force you to leave, but you might not like what'll be said."
"What're you going to say?" Selene demanded.
"Stick around and you'll hear it for yourself," Marcus answered. He turned his eyes back to Damien. "As much as I hate to admit it, Amy's got a good point. But I told you to focus on studying, not music. Not even a week and already you're starting to put all your time in music."
"It was one rehearsal on a day when I didn't have class," Damien replied, confused. "I'm not putting all my time in music. I've actually been studying, every night for at least an hour."
"If this is anything like what you had in high school, it'll be the only thing you focus on," Marcus countered. "You spent _all_of your free time in high school focusing on that... noise! It's not even good music!"
"Marcus!" Selene gasped.
"Just because you didn't like it doesn't mean it was bad!" Damien answered.
"Don't you dare talk back to me!" Marcus snarled. "My point still stands! This is your_only_ warning. You are here to study, to learn, and to become what you can be. This girlfriend, this band... They are not to be your focus while you're here. Do I make myself clear?"
"..."
"Damien..."
"Why is it always me?" Damien asked finally. "It's always me that gets these speeches. Nathan can barely choose his own clothes but you don't give two shits as long as he's got that damn basketball to fall back on!"
"Who the hell do you think you're talking, Damien?! I'm still your father and you will talk to me with respect!"
"But it's not fair! You spend all your time talking about how much of a genius Amy is or how great Nathan is at basketball! Then when I find something I want to do, you shut me down. You never once were at any of my shows, you never listened to any of my songs and you always say not to do this or not to do that! You never think about what I'd like to do!"
"Because you never think about what you _should_do!" Marcus insisted and he was yelling now. Damien didn't think he'd ever seen his father so angry, but he had never before been so angry himself. He had never talked back like this, never raise his voice at either of his parents.
"I do! But you always try to make me like Nathan or Amy and I'm not! I'm not sporty or a genius or... anything like that! I'm me!" Then, in a weaker, strangely hoarser voice, he said, "Is that what you hate about me?"
The question hung in the air and Selene leaned down to pull her son into a hug, but Damien gently pushed her away. Visibly hurt by the action, she stepped back to glare at her husband, who was too stunned to do more than stammer unintelligibly.
"Marcus?" she prompted.
"I don't hate you... I've never hated you... My God, is that what this is about? You think I hate you?" Marcus's demeanor had changed from rage to uncertainty. His jaw hung slightly open. "How could you even think that? I love you. I love all of you..." He looked to Selene for support, she was waiting to hear what he would say. "Damien, I do love you. I love you dearly. I just..."
"Just what, Marcus?" Selene demanded.
Marcus seemed unable to answer, his own mind swirling as the weight of what was said crashed upon him. He sank down into one of the chairs and stared at the floor.
"Have I not been a good father?" he asked in a broken voice.
"Dad... It's not you... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have--"
"I should be the one apologizing," Marcus said. He gave an uneasy chortle. "I really messed up, didn't I? For one of my own kids to think I hate them..."
"Dad..."
"I'm sorry, Damien, I really am."
"Dad--"
But Marcus had stood and walked out through the slightly open door where Nathan and Amy had been eavesdropping. They hurriedly stepped aside as Marcus walked away and out of sight. They waited outside for a second before reentering.
"Heavy shit," Nathan noted. "Didn't expect it to go like that."
"You know he'll be back in a few minutes," Amy said. "What're you going to say when he gets back?"
"I don't know... I didn't even think through what I was saying now," Damien said. His eyes started to tear up. "How do I make this okay? I basically just said that he's a bad father!"
"You owe him an apology. If you weren't in that bed, I would've stuffed a bar of soap in your mouth, at the very least," Selene said. Damien swallowed thickly. "You don't hear how much bragging he does about his pups. How they're so talented, so intelligent, and how he was so proud of all of them. You know, he actually sold a few of Malachite's CDs to his coworkers. He played his own copy so much that it actually stopped working."
"But I thought he hated it."
"He's not a fan of rock or metal, but it's _your_music," Selene said. "It's something he could listen to and show to other people and say, 'That's my son'."
Damien swallowed thickly. "Guess I'm not a good son, am I? Can I even fix this?"
"You can try to," Selene offered. "That's the very least you can do."
"Damien?"
It had been almost forty-five since Marcus had walked out, but now that he returned, he seemed so different. The confident, prideful husky had given way to another, far more unsure and reserved visage, one that didn't suit him at all. Damien almost didn't recognize him without that confidence--he looked almost sickly without it.
He wasn't the only one that noticed the change in him either. The Blackwell family watched their patriarch enter the room, head downward, with quiet contemplation.
"I'm sorry," he said finally, "if I seem distant or controlling or... anything like that. I want you all to know that I do love each of you. You are each special to me in your own unique way. I love you all differently, but equally."
"Dad, I shouldn't have said what I said," Damien said. "I didn't mean it."
"That's a lie. You meant everything you said," Marcus replied. "But I won't hold it against you. We obviously have a lot we need to talk about and work through, but now's not the time to do that. Not while you're in a hospital bed with stitches in your stomach."
"...Then when?"
"Later. I promise we'll have a real talk soon, but not right now," Marcus answered. "For now, I just need one promise."
"...Okay...?"
"Promise me you'll do your best. Study hard and get the best grades you can," Marcus said. "If you can promise me that, I'll be as lenient as I can be with you and this new band of yours."
"I can't promise perfect scores."
"I didn't ask you to."
"... Alright. I promise I'll do as well as I can..."
"Now, I need you to promise me something," Selene interjected. "I'm too young to be a grandmother, you know."
"We just went on one date!" Damien said in surprise. "Do you think I...? No, not yet!"
"So you plan to," Nathan said with an inclined head and knowing smirk.
"No! I mean... maybe? What's it to you?"
"I think I should educate you on the... benefits of being with a female," Nathan said.
"No," Damien and Marcus said at the same time.
"If anyone should have that talk with him, it should be Dad," Amy said.
"Have you already had sex?" Selene asked with a suspicious glare. Nathan stumbled through his half-spoken, half-mumbled reply. Damien chuckled, glad to have the conversation aimed at someone else now.
"Why do you want to be a football player again?" Damien wondered as he opened the Tupperware container that Thomas had set before him an hour later. The scent of the lasagna inside wafted into the room and Damien felt his stomach growl with anticipation. Anna, standing by his side, looked over in surprise.
Thomas shrugged. "I like football. Cooking's just a hobby."
"You're a cook?" Nathan snorted. "Never would've expected a big cat like you to wear an apron."
"It's something to kill the time between practices and games," Thomas answered with a shrug, clearly embarrassed. He quickly turned back to Damien, who had started to eat. "So, how're you doing?"
"Not like I was dying," Damien answered, enjoying the lasagna greatly. "Besides, I should be back at school before you know it. How'd you make this? We don't even have a microwave in our room."
"Borrowed the kitchen," Thomas answered. "Benefits of a culinary student."
Marcus cleared his throat noisily. "Can I have a word with you, Mr...?"
"Thomas, sir."
"Thomas. May I have a word with you in the hallway?"
Thomas shrugged and followed Marcus out into the hallway, leaving Damien to stare at the door.
"What're they talking about?" Damien inquired.
"Who knows? That old dog always confuses me," Selene said with a shake of her head. "So, Anna, how'd you meet Damien?"
"He was playing guitar on campus and I saw him play," Anna explained. "And we actually have the same lit class. We started talking and... he was too adorable to ignore."
"You mean 'handsome'?" Damien suggested.
"Sure," she answered, patting his head. "Adorable _and_handsome."
Damien rolled his eyes, smiling nonetheless as he continued to eat.
"Well, you guys look cute together," Amy said with a grin.
"Got to admit; never thought I'd see the day when Damien would get the nerve to ask someone out," Nathan remarked. "Finally grew a pair, little bro?"
"That's crass, Nathan," Selene said in a warning tone. "Watch your mouth."
"Actually, there's a funny story to that," Damien said.
"Let me guess: she asked you out," Amy offered.
"How'd you--?"
"Because she seems a bit more assertive than you," Amy explained nonchalantly. "Just when I thought you'd grown up, she knocks you back down," Nathan chuckled. "Well, you've got more than enough time to prove me wrong."
"That's funny, especially considering that your girlfriend keeps you on a short leash," Damien countered. "She's got you so whipped you can't say no to her. Isn't that why you're wearing that ugly shirt."
"This," Nathan snarled, "was a gift for my birthday. It'd be rude not to wear it at least once."
"It's pink," Damien said.
"It's not pink; it just bright red."
"It's_pink_," Damien corrected. "Your shirt is pink!"
"It's red!"
"Your shirt is pink, Nate," Selene laughed. "There's no getting around it. Your shirt is--"
"Are we still debating whether or not his shirt is pink?" Marcus asked in intrigue as he reentered, Thomas behind him. "Nate, get over it. Your shirt is freaking pink!"
"Not my fault you people are colorblind," Nathan huffed and Damien laughed at his childishness.
"Guys, we need to get going... I still have work tomorrow morning," Marcus said.
"And I've got class tomorrow," Nathan whined. "But I don't want to go. Is it the end of the world if I miss one class?"
"The end of your world," Marcus said. "If I'm paying for those classes, you'd better get going."
"Yes, sir," Nathan grumbled. He made his way towards the door, stopping to wave at Damien. "Hey, short stack, don't be a stranger. Give me a call from time to time, okay."
"Only if you stop insulting me."
"No promises. Love you, bro."
"Love you too."
He walked out, whistling to himself as he left.
"So, are we going to leave too?" Selene wondered.
"Yeah, I can't afford to miss tomorrow," Marcus said sadly. He shifted nervously. "Damien, I'm glad that you're going to be okay. We'll have that talk next time you're home. Do you know when that'll be?"
"Thanksgiving, probably."
"Don't you get a fall break? Aren't you coming home for that?" Selene asked.
"I hadn't really thought about it," Damien admitted. "I'll let you know."
She looked crestfallen, but said nothing more as she stood and walked over, kissing her son's forehead. "Alright, Damien. I'll check on you again soon."
"You don't need to."
"I know I don't need to. I want to," she replied. She walked over and joined her husband by the door. "It was nice meeting you, Anna, Thomas. Take good care of him."
"Yes, ma'am," Thomas answered.
"Will do," Anna agreed.
Watching them leave was harder than Damien had thought it'd be. Amy had stayed until nightfall and they had spent the time chatting aimlessly, simply enjoying each other's company. But she, too, had to leave and Damien felt strangely lonely as she left, despite Thomas and Anna both remaining by his side.
"What did my dad talk to you about?" Damien questioned, his eyes focusing on Thomas.
"He asked me to look after you," Thomas admitted. "I'm not really sure what he meant, but he said just to keep an eye on you. Even gave me his phone number in case anything goes wrong."
"So he asked you to babysit me?" Damien snapped indignantly. "Really? Unbelievable! I mean, I don't need a fucking babysitter!"
"Don't think of it like that," Thomas answered. "It just means he cares."
"Yeah, I guess," Damien scoffed. "It's just... so freaking infuriating. I mean..." He sighed heavily, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. "It doesn't matter. So, what'll you two do? Don't you guys have class tomorrow?"
"Yeah," Anna said sadly. "But will you be okay here by yourself? It's kind of lonely."
"I'll stick around," Thomas offered. "It's weird to be in the dorm without him there."
"I don't mind staying," Anna said rapidly.
"It's okay," Damien insisted. "You need to go back to your dorm. Sleep in a bed instead of in a chair. You should too, Thomas."
"No, really, it's okay," Thomas promised. "I would honestly rather be here."
"I don't mind staying either," Anna agreed. "My roommate's a little too... active for my tastes. At least here, I can study in peace."
"Are you guys sure?"
"Yeah," Thomas assured him. "No worries."
August 27th, 20--
It's so awkward to see my journal and know I didn't write anything last night, but I have a good reason at least. Well, "good" isn't the term I should use, but I have a reason. How did I go from a date with a pretty cat, to rocking with an awesome band to lying in a hospital bed, you ask? I got fucking shot! But Ozzy, Torrie, Anna, Thomas... I have a pretty awesome group of friends...
There's more to the story there, but I've got a bit more I want to say. Maybe I'll fill in the rest later. But I saw my family today. They came to visit me, which isn't really surprising, considering what happened. But I said something to my dad that I don't know how to handle. I didn't mean to hurt his feelings like I did. Even thinking about it now is hard. I basically called him a bad father. I actually yelled at him.
Does that make me a bad son? I didn't want to hurt him, but I've never seen him so upset before. I almost wish he would've yelled at me for it. Anything would've been better than the way he just walked out. I'm so sorry about it, but he wouldn't let me apologize. How can I face him after that?
As he finished his latest entry, Damien stared at the untidy scrawl. It was most unlike him... The writing had started off neat and orderly but by the end of his entry, it had become disorderly, unkempt, as though written by someone new to English. His own breathing was slightly ragged and he wiped his eye before a tear could fall.
"Need to talk?" Thomas offered from the chair and Damien looked up. He had assumed Thomas and Anna were sleeping--Anna was asleep.
"N-no," Damien answered, looking back down at his journal. "I'm just thinking about my family... It was nice seeing them, but..."
He had looked up when Thomas stood, but was surprised nonetheless when Thomas yanked his journal away. "Give that back!" Damien insisted when he saw Thomas's eyes skim the fresh words.
"In a second," Thomas answered. "So you had an argument with your dad," Thomas said when he reached the end of the entry. He set the journal on the bed. "Not the end of the world and no reason to panic."
"You had no right to read that!"
"You can be mad at me later, but let's focus on one issue at a time," Thomas suggested. "I'm trying to help you."
"You can help by staying out of my business!" Damien snapped.
"I know that was rude, but just hear me out," Thomas pleaded. "I promise I can keep a secret."
"...Fine."
"Everyone eventually has an argument or falling out with their parents," Thomas said. "I've had a few of my own, especially in high school. But it's not a matter of what was said; it's always what you say after. I've had my own problems with my dad and they've escalated to brawls more than once. No, I'm not proud of it, but we've made up each time."
"And if we can't make up?"
"Then you're plenty old enough to learn how to stand on your own. If you're tired of him babying you, then don't give him a reason to," Thomas explained. "I'm not going to pretend to be an expert on family, especially when I can't even go to my own parents about my problems, but that's the best advice I can give."
"Why can't you go to your parents?" Damien wondered, hoping to change the subject.
"Let's just say that we have different opinions on certain things," Thomas said. When Damien waited for more information, Thomas said, "That's a story for another time, puppy."
"Don't call me 'puppy'. And now you've got me interested. What's so big that you can't tell me after reading my journal?"
"I just read a little bit."
"You weren't supposed to read any of it!"
"Even still, we might be friends, but there are certain things I really don't want getting out."
"You're not on drugs, are you?" Damien asked playfully.
"No."
"Have a second girlfriend?"
"No. Stop guessing."
"Is it a guy?"
"N-no," Thomas said, but his response gave Damien pause. The denial hadn't been as quick or casual and he seemed somewhat more defensive than before. "Why are you so eager to guess?"
"Can I ask you a question without you getting angry?"
"I make no promises."
"Are you... gay or bi?"
"No," Thomas answered. "Drop it."
"Okay, sorry," Damien said defensively. "I didn't mean to offend you. Forget I asked."
The next half hour was filled with pointless chitchat as they waited for the awkwardness to abate. Finally, Thomas went to sleep. When he was sure that Thomas was actually asleep this time, he wrote more in his journal:
It's strange. I've got a girlfriend now, Anna, so I don't get why I'm suddenly even more interested at the possibility that Thomas might like other males. What's wrong with me? I'm not gay or bi or anything but I don't know... What's wrong with me?
--Damien Jaime Blackwell