chapter fourteen:
The sound of the door slamming rang in his ears. He couldn't seem to get rid of it. The shouting had subsided, leaving him in the cold, dank hallway, shivering on the floor. He leaned against the door, maybe his mother would let him back in. Maybe they'd give him a second chance.
It was a stupid thought. They didn't give his sister a second chance. He was no different. He was no better. He was just as dead to them as she was.
Caelum heard footsteps come up the stone steps. A familiar head of mousy brown hair that seemed bigger in the shadows of the hall. Peter had come. It made Caelum wonder just how long he had been sitting in this hallway.
"Caelum," Peter said gently. "Let's go, you can sleep at my place." He stepped forward tentatively, "We can go to my floor, come on."
"M. . . My mom," Caelum said softly. She was still in there. Would his father hit her like he did him? "She. . . my mom," his voice cracked, and his mind kept going back and forth, seemingly unable to snag on one coherent thought. As a result, his sentences were short and humbled.
Caelum felt his shoulders shake and he winced, inhaling. Peter grabbed his hand, and wrapped it around his shoulder. It didn't help much, Caelum was practically deadweight, almost unable to walk. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know where to go. Peter was helping him, he was taking him to his apartment.
Peter stumbled down the steps, but managed to not fall right on his face. They got to his floor and May Parker stood there. She had a floral robe on and curlers in her hair. Yet, there was a fierce, determined look on her face as she held the door open allowing them stumbled through. She looked so much like Peter.
Peter laid him on the couch, and Caelum hissed on the impact, curling in on himself. That only made his pain worse, however. "Peter, get the first aid kit," May ordered, locking the door and bolting it. Then, for extra measure, she put a chair underneath the doorknob. She hurried over to Caelum, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Hey sweetie, don't move, alright?" Caelum shuddered, breathing hard.
"My–My mom," he breathed. He couldn't get her out of his mind. The stunned look, her gaping mouth. "My mom." Was she okay? Were the boys okay?
"It's okay," She insisted. "She's–She's fine, just don't move."
"I. . . my mom," Caelum couldn't think to say anything else. Everything hurt so bad. He squeezed his eyes closed and groaned. He was so tired. He had to finish his work. He had to. . . his mom was still up there. And, his brothers. His mom loved him. She would come for him. His mom. . . his mom. . .
"Move your hands, Cael," Peter breathed, and Caelum shook his head, it hurt. He had to finish his work. "Cael, c'mon man. May ― she has to see your ribs."
"No. . . it hurts," he whined, and Peter nodded.
"I know," he said. "But it's–it's gonna hurt worse if you don't let her see."
"My mom," he whispered. "She. . . my mom. . ."
"Caelum, c'mon," Peter touched his hands, and Caelum shuddered. He was so warm. Caelum was freezing and Peter was so warm. "Can you see?"
"I can try," May admitted, and pulled up his shirt. "Oh. . ."
"Mom," Caelum moaned. He wanted his mother. He didn't want her to go. She was a doctor, she could help.
Someone squeezed his hands, he was warm. "It's okay. It's gonna be okay."
"We need to call 9-1-1," May said and Caelum jolted.
"No!" He moved away, as if he could wiggle from two able-bodied people. He couldn't go to the hospital, he didn't have money. "I don't. . . I don't have money, I can't ― no, I can't―"
"Peter, get the phone," May ordered, and Caelum shook his head. He'd have money to pay for the doctors. He would be in his debt forever. He couldn't do that to himself. And, he couldn't go back to work, his dad would kill him if he did.
Caelum moved, trying to get off the couch. He had to leave ― he had to get away. He couldn't let them take him to the hospital. "Stop moving!" May commanded, and Caelum looked up at her with his one eye, and blinked.
He was in her body, but he was disoriented, nothing felt right at all. He stumbled back, his side knocking into the coffee table. "May!" Peter said, and Caelum looked back at his eyes, going back to his body.
Caelum hissed, rolling off the couch and onto the ground. He fall felt like he fell off a building, and the impact was worse. He gasped, hugging his chest, tears pricking his eyes, "Cael!" Peter grabbed his shoulders, trying to put him back on the couch.
"Get off me!" He hissed, but his words were beginning to slur together. His eyes rolling, unable to decide where they wanted to look. Peter had the house phone in one hand, Caelum in the other.
"Sir?" A voice from the phone said. "Sir? Are you still there?"
"Yes, I–I need an ambulance!" Peter said, "Please, I―!"
"I need you to calm down, sir," Caelum tried to shake his head, to vocalize him saying 'no', but Peter didn't listen ― that or he didn't realize he was shaking his head and not trying to snap his own neck. "What is your address?"
"I can't. . . I don't have money," Caelum insisted, sweat beading down his head, but Peter was too busy rattling off his address. Caelum moved to reach for the phone, but Peter moved away. He didn't have to. As soon as Caelum leaned to reach for it, his chest painfully reminded him that it was not okay.
"An ambulance is on its way. Could you please describe the situation? What happened?"
Caelum tried to reach for the phone again, but Peter held it away from him further. "His father beat the shit out of him!"
"He–He didn't!" Caelum denied, his head bobbing up and down. Despite the obvious lie, Caelum grunted, gritting his teeth against the pain. "I'm fine!"
"'Fine'!?" Peter let out a stunned scoff. "You look like you got run over by a 16-wheeler."
"I can't afford to go," Caelum hissed, his pain bringing on a new level of crabbiness. He just wanted to sleep. "Don't bring an ambulance, I can't―"
"The ambulance will be there in five minutes," the woman said. "Please make sure your friend doesn't move."
"There! See, Ms. Nice Lady said to make sure you don't move," Peter smiled. "I think we should listen to her ― she sounds like she knows what she's doing."
"Peter," Caelum tried to be serious, he tried to make Peter see what was wrong. "I have no money ― don't bring them here, please. I don't have money." He tried to make Peter understand. Silly, helpless Peter, who didn't have a single care in the world.
Caelum could hear them now, the ambulance's sirens coming down the street. With how early it was, it was no surprise his easily and quickly they could come, the streets must be near empty and they lived near a hospital.
May stirred, his eyes fluttering open. "What. . .?" She turned to Peter and Caelum, remembering what was going on.
"Caelum, I don't care if you're broke ― you're not dying in my living room." The sirens blared outside the window ― surely, they had found the apartment already. "We'll figure something out. Are they here? Ms. Nice Lady, should we move him downstairs?"
"No, stay where you are," she instructed, and Peter nodded. May stood, moving to the door, and taking the chair out from underneath.
Caelum was still worried. He heard the knocking on the other side of the door, and May looked through the peephole before opening it.
Two large men wearing reflexive yellow-orange colours stepped inside. One of them took one look at Caelum and winced, drawing his eyebrows closer and his eyes softening. Did he look that bad? "Hello young man," he greeted, coming over to Caelum's side.
He had dirty blonde hair and steely gray eyes. Stubble lined his chin and jawline. He was quite handsome, and if Caelum hasn't been in so much pain, he would've been embarrassed. "We're going to help you get to the ER, alright?"
"I don't have money," Caelum said immediately, pushing away his pain to focus. It was hard, he kept a tight hold on his chest with one arm, as if it were keeping his guts together. He had more issues than just pretty first responders. "I can't–I can't afford to go, I can't―"
"Hey, don't worry about that, alright?" The man assured, smiling warmly. "What's your name?"
"Caelum," Peter answered for him when he stayed silent.
"Caelum, we're going to take you to the hospital, alright?"
"I don't want to go with you," Caelum tried, and Peter frowned down at him.
"How old are you, Caelum?" The other man asked. He looked a bit shorter than the first man and had darker hair with a brownish tan. He had a rugged look and a scar on the side of his cheek.
"Fif–Fifteen," Caelum breathed.
"Sorry," he shrugged. "Still a minor. You can't refuse help just yet. Are these your guardians?" Caelum shook his head. "Where are you parents?"
"Upstairs," Peter answered again. "His dad is the one who did this." Both of the men frowned, and Caelum for a moment, resented Peter's words. These men wouldn't let him leave now. He couldn't let them believe that, his father couldn't go to jail.
"He didn't," Caelum tried to lie. He breathed slowly, everything was hurting so bad.
"You gave yourself a black eye and," He gently touched Caelum's side. He hissed, gritting his teeth in pain, "Broke your ribs?"
"I―"
"Yeah, okay," the other man grunted, "Let's get you up."
The man moved under him, gently lifting him to his feet. Caelum cried out, but the other man supported his weight. "I know, I know, it hurts. I know." He hissed, breathing heavily. "We need to get you to the elevator and downstairs, alright?" Caelum nodded mutely, focusing on breathing. His partner came to Caelum's other side, and together they took him from Peter's apartment.
Caelum was shaking, he kept looking around — he couldn't help it. His father must've hear the ambulance's sirens. He knew someone called the police. He could be coming out at any second. Caelum had work to do, he didn't want to disappoint his father anymore. He also didn't think he'd survive another beating.
"Hey, Caelum," one of the paramedics said, as they led him to the elevator. "It's going to be okay, alright? Can you tell me if your father is still in the building?" Caelum nodded. "Did he know you were in your friend's apartment?"
"I. . . I don't know," Caelum admitted. "I–I can't go, I have to stay. I have ― I have to finish my work." The elevator jolted to a stop when it reached the bottom, and Caelum stumbled. The paramedic grabbed him and steadied him again.
"Don't worry about that right now," he assured as the doors opened. "I'm going to call my friend over and he's going to help you onto the gurney, okay?" Caelum looked past the doors, seeing his father in the lobby, fuming.
Caelum moved back immediately, his gut twisting and his eyes going wide. His father saw him, and his eyes narrowed. "You called these people!?" His father demanded, advancing on Caelum.
"I–I didn't―" Caelum's heart was pounding in his ears. "I tried―I tried to tell them not to, I tried―" The fear crept on him like a vine up a tree. He wanted to run but he could hardly keep himself up. He also wanted to see his mom and brothers, he knew he couldn't disobey his father.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step back," the man said.
"That's my son," his father growled.
"If that's true, then he's currently sporting several injuries. A witness claims that you are the one that did this. Are you admitting to assaulting a minor?" His father glared at the man holding Caelum steady.
"Get over here," his voice was low, and Caelum tried to move away from the paramedics, but they didn't let go of him. This resulted in him stumbling awkwardly, his legs moving but his upper body staying still.
"Come on," the man said to his partner. He looked across the lobby where a younger man was watching the scene unfold. "Alex, call the police." Alex didn't need to be told twice. He pulled a device out from his belt and began to speak rapidly.
"Let go of my son! Algol, get over here!" His father was shouting, trying to reach for Caelum. The paramedics moved, getting him to the ambulance as fast as they could without damaging Caelum further. His father was right behind him, and Caelum turned his neck to keep his eyes on the man.
For a brief moment, the back of his neck tingled. Caelum could possess him. But, he remembered what happened with May when he did, would the same happen with his father?
With his mind lost in thought, panic, and pain, he forgot the threat of his advancing father. His fingers seized around Caelum's wrist tight, his dull nails piercing his skin. Then, he yanked.
Caelum slipped from the two men's grasp like a fish out of water and he fall back. He back hit the ground and immediately he began to scream in absolute agony. The pain was destabilizing, as if someone had pressed a scalding iron on his ribs. He felt like they were collapsing in on itself.
And, of course, father didn't care at all. He kept dragging him away, spouting curses Caelum couldn't make out in his state. God, everything burned. Caelum breathed labouredly, his eyes slipping closed, and he writhed on the ground. He coughed, and blood shot from his lips.
He felt someone yank his besieged wrist out of his father's hand. He hear grunting and shouting, but didn't quite process it. Everything hurt. Everything was on fire. "Hey, Caelum, hey," the paramedic said, coming to his side. "Look at me, alright? Look at me." Caelum couldn't do it. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if to hide from the pain, and choked out a sob. It hurt so much. He was going to die.
"I know it hurts," he said, trying to provide comfort through Caelum's gasped sobs. "Alex and I, we're going to lift you up, alright? Can you give me a thumbs up if you understood that?" Caelum tried to breathe, but he felt like something was stuck in his throat, blocking his airway. "Caelum? Did you hear what I said?"
Slowly, Caelum made a thumbs up. "Good. Great, alrighty then. On the count of three, ready? One. . . two. . . three." The two men lifted Caelum, and he inhaled, trying to breathe. He squirmed, his arms shaking, moving up, up, up. Something was choking him, he had to get it off.
The paramedics were speaking rapidly, "Get me a syringe. Cut off his shirt. Daniel! We need to get him to the ER!"
Caelum felt the sharp pricks of the wind biting against his exposed skin as he was rushed into the vehicle. He couldn't breathe. He grasped his throat, gasping soundlessly. He couldn't breathe!
"This is going to hurt," someone muttered before something sharp pricked into his chest. Caelum gasped, his eyes rolling into his head. He heard them say, "There we go. . . deep breaths. . ." before everything went silent.