Broken String

CXXXIX

Eddy shivers as he pulls his shirt off and the doctor puts a stethoscope on his naked chest. His limbs have been prodded, bent this way and that, and the pain that has caused coupled with the nerves is making him feel very sick. Sicker even than he always feels in hospitals. 
"Breathe in, nice and deep?"
He wants to laugh. Nice and deep? Does this guy even know where they are? But then... he guesses the doctor doesn't mind it, here. 
The doctor is not sick, after all. 
He takes the deepest breath he can muster and blows out slowly, trying to breathe the nausea out with it. He guesses hurling on doctors is frowned upon. 
"Very good." the stethoscope gets moved to his back. "Again?"
Another shaky breath. His heart pounds, fibrillating against his chest. Shit. Is that bad? Will the doctor now think there's something wrong with it? Oh, God, will this be more tests? 
Suddenly the doctor wiggles his eyebrows and puts a hand on his shoulder. 
"Hey, relax, you're doing good." he says in the same kind tone from earlier. "Alright. I would love to see you standing."

Okay, now he knows his mouth is hanging open, and he sees Brett from the periphery, deadpan face all failed, eyes aghast. 
"Um, he can't, can he?" Brett pipes up quietly, but very seriously. The doctor looks at him and smiles his nod. 
"I think maybe he can." he says then. "But I need to see him try to be sure. Is that okay?"
"It's okay." Eddy states hoarsely, before Brett can give the doctor the piece of his mind he's clearly contemplating. It makes him smile. 
He's defending him. 
His heart flutters erratically at the realisation. His knight in shining armour. Good thing there's no stethoscope on his chest right now. And he can see Brett's face as he pulls it together, he knows he wants to ask the doctor if he's sure, or say something else to him, something firmer perhaps. But the thing is...
He is sure. This guy may have answers and it's the closest he's been to those since that day in the practice room. He'll do anything it takes for answers. 
"Alright." he says firmly. "Can I have someone's hand?"
Brett is up already, his hand out for him to take, his face still so pale it's almost green. 
"I'm okay." Eddy whispers, for Brett's ears only. Look, he can do this. He's just going to think about what happened before this appointment and he'll be fine. Brett told him he loves him. He told him he wants him. The warmth floods his system and he's up already, on his feet for the first time in weeks, for the first time since the toilet. He wobbles as the pain shoots through his limbs and he groans.

"Okay. You're doing very well. Can you take a step forward for me with your right foot?"
The hissed breath in on his left tells Eddy all he needs to know about Brett's opinion on the subject but he nods and tries to lift up the foot the doctor mentioned.
"Ow." he bites.
It hurts, it hurts like hell, but he steps anyway.
"Very good, Eddy. You can sit down again now."
Eddy. He called him Eddy. He's the first doctor to, he's always been Mr. Chen.
He hates being Mr. Chen.
His breaths are short and laboured as he sits down and bites away the stinging that rings through his legs. It's already getting better again, though.
"What are you feeling?"
"Um. It hurts. It's like... a knife gets twisted. And it burns. But it's subsiding now."
The doctor nods.
"Good. Is it still subsiding?"
"Um. Yes. Going back to normal now."
Another kind smile, another nod.
"Very good. Alright. Let's go to the other room."