It started with a phone call in the middle of practice.
TJ's phone buzzed in his bag, and normally Marcus would have ignored itâphones were banned during practiceâbut something about TJ's expression when he heard it made him pause.
"You need to get that?"
TJ hesitated, then nodded. "It might be my aunt. She wouldn't call unless it was important."
He stepped out of the gym. When he came back three minutes later, his face was gray.
"I need to leave," he said. "My sister's in the hospital."
---
Marcus drove TJ to Jefferson General, pushing through traffic with controlled urgency.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Car accident. She was crossing the street and some guy ran a red light." TJ's voice was flat, disconnected. "They're saying she might not make it through the night."
Marcus felt his stomach drop. "How old is she?"
"Nine. Her name's Maya." TJ stared out the window. "She's the only good thing my family ever made."
They pulled into the hospital parking lot. TJ was out of the car before it fully stopped, sprinting toward the entrance. Marcus followed, catching up just as TJ reached the emergency room desk.
"I'm here for Maya Jackson. I'm her brother."
The nurse checked her computer. "She's in surgery. Your aunt is in the waiting areaâthird floor, room 317."
TJ was already running for the elevator.
---
The waiting area was small and sterile, filled with the particular tension of people waiting to hear if their loved ones would survive.
TJ's auntâa heavyset woman in her forties with worried eyesâstood as soon as she saw him.
"Tyrell." She pulled him into a hug. "Thank God you're here."
"What happened? What do the doctors say?"
"Internal bleeding. They're trying to stop it, but..." Her voice broke. "It doesn't look good, baby. It doesn't look good."
TJ pulled away from her, his face contorting with something darker than grief.
"Where's the guy who hit her? The driver?"
"They arrested him. He was drunk, Tyrell. At three in the afternoon, he was drunk."
Something snapped behind TJ's eyes.
"I need to go," he said. "I need to find him."
"TJ." Marcus stepped forward. "That's not going to help anyone."
"He hurt my sister. He needs to pay."
"And he willâin court. The legal way." Marcus put himself between TJ and the door. "I know you're angry. I know you want to hurt someone. But that's not going to save Maya."
"Neither is standing here doing nothing!"
"Being here for your aunt, for your sisterâthat's not nothing." Marcus kept his voice calm, steady. "Your family needs you right now. They need you whole, not in a jail cell for assault."
TJ's fists were clenched, his whole body vibrating with rage. For a moment, Marcus thought he was going to push past him anywayâconsequences be damned.
Then the fight drained out of him.
"I can't lose her too," TJ whispered. "First my brother, now... I can't do this again."
"You're not alone in this." Marcus gripped his shoulder. "Stay here. Be with your family."
TJ's aunt approached, wrapping her arm around her nephew.
"He's right, Tyrell. We need to stay together. That's what Maya would want."
TJ nodded slowly, allowing himself to be guided to a chair. He sat heavily, his head in his hands, and for the first time since Marcus had known him, he looked like what he really wasâa scared kid, facing something too big to fight.
---
The surgery lasted four hours.
Marcus stayed the entire time, sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chairs, watching TJ cycle through anger, fear, despair, and back again. The team had been notifiedâpractice was cancelledâand several players texted asking about Maya.
At 8:47 PM, a doctor emerged.
"Family of Maya Jackson?"
TJ was on his feet immediately. "Is she okay? Is she alive?"
The doctor's face was carefully neutral. "She made it through surgery. We stopped the bleeding and repaired the internal damage. But the next twenty-four hours are critical. She's stable, but not out of danger."
"Can I see her?"
"She's in the ICU. We can allow one visitor at a time, for ten minutes." The doctor looked at him with something that might have been compassion. "She's unconscious, but she'll know you're there. Talk to her. Let her hear your voice."
TJ disappeared through the ICU doors, leaving Marcus alone with his aunt.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For staying. For talking him down earlier."
"He's a good kid. He just... carries a lot."
"He's had to carry too much. Their parentsâmy brother and his wifeâthey died when TJ was twelve. Marcus was ten. Car accident, same as this." Her voice was tired. "History keeps repeating, and there's nothing I can do to stop it."
"You've done more than you know. Taking them in, raising themâthat's not nothing."
"Some days it feels like nothing. Like no matter how hard I try, the world just keeps taking pieces of them." She wiped her eyes. "TJ was so angry after Marcus died. He's still angry, most days. I've tried everythingâcounseling, therapy, medication. Nothing seems to help."
"Sometimes the only thing that helps is time. And finding something to channel the anger into."
"Like basketball?"
"Like basketball." Marcus paused. "He's got real talent, Mrs. Jackson. And he cares more than he lets on. The anger is real, but it's not all of him. If we can give him a reason to channel it, I think he'll surprise you."
"Do you really believe that?"
"I have to. Otherwise, what's the point of any of this?"
---
TJ emerged from the ICU thirty minutes later, his eyes red but his expression calmer.
"She looks so small," he said. "Hooked up to all those machines. It's not right."
"No, it's not."
"The doctor said she's fighting. That her vitals are stronger than they expected." TJ looked at Marcus. "She's a fighter. Always has been."
"Sounds like it runs in the family."
TJ managed a weak smile. "Coach, I'm sorry about practice. Aboutâ"
"Don't apologize. Family comes first. Always."
"I know, but the team is counting on me. We've got a game on Tuesday, andâ"
"The team will survive. Your sister needs you more than any basketball game." Marcus put a hand on his shoulder. "Take as much time as you need. We'll be here when you get back."
TJ nodded, the tension in his shoulders releasing slightly.
"Coach? Thank you. For staying. For... everything."
"That's what family does."
---
Marcus drove home alone, hands tight on the steering wheel. The evening kept replaying in fragments he couldn't turn off. TJ's rage. Maya hooked up to machines. The drunk driver at three in the afternoon.
He thought about his own losses. His mother. His career. The hollow years that followed. Now Morrison, Malik, TJ. Somewhere along the way, their problems had become his problems, and he wasn't sure when that had happened.
He pulled into his apartment parking lot and sat for a moment, looking at the lit window where Malik was probably waiting.
He was tired. But he got out of the car and went inside.
