X-men: World of Gray

Chapter 4

Hi, readers!  This chapter took a lot of research on spinal cord injury to write, and I'll warn you now, I'm not holding anything back. These are real issues people with this condition face, and I wanted to make it as accurate as possible.

Chapter 4…

The Salem Outpatient Rehabilitation Center was one of the most revered rehabilitation clinics in New York. Inside one of the smaller therapy rooms, Charles lay—back-to-floor—on an exercise mat. Wheelchairs and walkers lined the room's walls; wooden ramps and extra mats were stuffed in the corners. An aroma of lemon-lime coursed through the air like someone had gotten a little too excited with the cleaning solution that day.

That didn't really bother him, however—especially at the moment. His attention was focused at his feet as his physical therapy assistant, Edith, heaved his right leg into the air. She explained the stretch she was performing, explained how he had to be cautious as his hamstrings would shrink over time due to inactivity. He had to stretch every morning; he had to keep his legs in exceptional form.

She had explained all these things before, but Charles didn't mind. The petite, auburn-haired girl had a kind face, sparkling chocolate eyes, and plump lips. She could recite the entire Oxford dictionary, and he'd still enjoy it.

"All right," Edie said and bent his leg down. "I'm going to apply weight to your hamstrings. You'll feel some pressure in your abdomen."

She leaned into him—hard. It drove his thigh and all her weight right into his stomach.

"Edie!" he gasped as she pressed herself tight against him. "For God's sake, love—are you performing stretches or practicing some type of wrestling technique?"

She eased up a little. "That better?"

As his gut re-inflated, Charles let out a breath. "You don't know your own strength, my dear. If you insist on manhandling me, you could at least buy me a drink first."

The woman paused at that. Those fabulous eyes twinkled, and then a breath of laughter escaped her lips.

"Stop it," she said with a smile.

"Stop what?" He smiled back.

"You know what. We're not in a bar, you know."

"Wouldn't it be spectacular if we were? After a few pints, these exercises would certainly be much more…appealing."

Closing her eyes, Edie's lips curved even higher. Lifting herself away, she lowered his right leg, and then started on the left. "I'm on to you, you know."

"Really? How so?"

"I've heard rumors. The other assistants say you've been flirting with the entire support staff." The woman bent his left leg and leaned into him just as hard as she had the right one.

Sucking in a breath as the pressure hit his stomach, Charles still managed to grin cheek-to-cheek. "Yes, but you more than anyone. And I save all my best lines for you."

It was a tacky remark at best, but it got him exactly what he desired. Edie rolled her eyes, a touch of annoyance and amusement sketched on her features. Her auburn hair fell around her face. Charles used to prefer blondes, but those days, a woman with the mutated MCR-1 gene just captured him.

"You're awful, Charles," the woman replied, and then pulled herself away.

Charles used his arms to sit up. He knew the routine; they were almost finished with his physical therapy for the day. If he wasn't doing therapy, then it was wheelchair training. Or nutrition information—exercise evaluations—or educational sessions on pain management, bladder and bowel management, and whatever else his body could throw at him.