Broken String

XVII

"How are you getting to the physio?"
Brett is looking at him from his spot on the lunch table as Eddy appears in the cafeteria, his face carefully neutral. 
"Wait." Todd interrupts. "What's going on? Why is Eddy going to a physio?"
"Um. My hand's been hurting." Eddy says before Brett has to. 
Look. What's he going to do? It's not like he can stop them from finding out now, is it? They live in the same house for fuck's sake.
"Shit!" Todd's eyebrows reach for the ceiling. "How long has it been hurting for?"
Eddy shrugs. 
"A week or so? Anyway. I'll take the bus."
"I'll drive you." Brett states calmly. "If I can borrow Todd's car, that is."
"Of course." Todd says, and Eddy is already opening his mouth to say no, don't bother, I'm fucking twenty years old and capable of getting to a physio by myself, thank you very much. But it closes of its own accord. 
So much rides on this. He can't hide that from himself anymore. Is the nightmare he's been having going to be the closest he's ever going to get to performing the whole Sibelius? He cringes at the thought and nods. 
"Thanks." he says bleakly and sits down to drink his coffee.

It's a quiet ride to the physio. There's nothing left to pretend now, nothing really to say. Brett has seen him, last night, he knows how he is. So Eddy sits back, looking out of the window fitfully as Brett expertly navigates his way through the streets of Brisbane. He's half shaking by the time they install themselves in the waiting room. It's empty, mercifully, apart from a young girl in the far corner, very obviously pregnant. He's had to fill out a form at the desk and they've been told he'll be called in. 
"Thanks again for coming." he tells Brett quietly. Because he is thankful, more thankful than he can tell his best friend. It suddenly feels like his future hinges on this visit, somehow, and everything is so much easier to deal with with his best friend, his brother right next to him. 
"Eddy. Will you stop?" Brett hisses suddenly, sotto voce because they're not alone. "It's nothing you wouldn't do for me. Seriously."
Eddy shrugs. What can he say to that? While that may be true, he would still much rather not be the patient. Not be the weak one who needs looking after. He just wants to go back to being strong, and healthy, and he would like that yesterday, pretty please.
"Mr. Chen?"
A young Asian man has appeared and Eddy almost grins when he sees him, despite the hinging.
Physio, huh? He's made his parents half proud, at least?
He guesses that's not a comment he should lead with, here.
"Yes." he says, getting up gingerly. 
Brett stays behind in the corner alone as Eddy follows the physio into a small, clinical examination room. 
"So. You've had some pain." the man reads off his computer screen. "With violin playing."
"Um, yes. Well, to be honest, the pain is constant now. And my right hand has started to hurt, too, this morning."
The physio looks up at him, a practised neutral glance with a hint of something Eddy hopes isn't concern. 
"Okay, let me have a look."
The physio proceeds to bend his hand back and forth, and Eddy grits his teeth. 
"Is this painful?"
"Ow! Fuck!" Eddy shouts before he can stop himself, because the man has bent it just that way. "Sorry." he adds meekly.
"I'm guessing that's a yes, then." the physio states, unperturbed. "And the right hand?" 
"That one's not as bad." Eddy says quietly, doing his best to ignore the yet his brain wants to tack on.