Broken String

CLIV

"Hey, take your time, yeah?" Susan says kindly. "You don't need to rush. If you don't stand today, there's always next time."
"No, no. I'm ready." he states. "I can stand, now?"
Look, he understands that he can take his time. Susan has been nothing but kind, and patient. But he himself has no patience left. He's over this shit, he's over sitting, he's ready for standing. He grabs both bars with his hands and looks up at the physio for confirmation. Shards of the dream fly through him, of undulating sand under his feet, of burning, of not being able to breathe...
But no, no. No. He's here now and there's no sand. 
"Yes. Just pull yourself up and stand. No walking yet, okay?"
One hand is on the bar and the other reaches for Brett's. He's used his hand so often to swing himself from one seat to the next. It's only fitting that he holds it now. A swing, his stomach muscles pulse together and he's on his feet. 
"Ow. Oh, shit. Ow." He curses through closed teeth. 
"Okay, you're doing well." Susan says. "I know it hurts. We'll do five seconds. Three, two, one, sit."
He lets himself fall back in the chair and clenches his teeth. 
"You okay?" she asks. He breathes once, twice, three times. Then he nods. 
"Yes. Pain is subsiding."
"Okay." she smiles. "It should hurt less next time. You ready for another go?"
He nods and holds out his hand for Brett's. A pull, and he's back on his feet. 
"We'll do ten seconds." Susan says. "Nine, eight..."

Ow, it's hard. He hangs onto the bars for dear life, avoiding Brett's eyes altogether because he knows what he would see. He bites his lip hard as Susan counts from five to four to three. But... wait. Is it less hard? He listens to the kind physio's voice and focuses on the daggers in his feet. 
"One. You can sit."
He looks up at her but he doesn't sit down. God, it hurts, but it hurts less. It does, doesn't it? It hurts less, he's sure of it. 
"No, I want to step." he bites. She blinks and steps closer to him. 
"Okay. We'll do that. Please rest a moment first, though."
He nods and lowers himself. Ow, the daggers pull through him but he knows they're temporary now. He knows they're going. One breath, five, ten breaths and he is feeling back to normal. 
"Very good, Eddy. Okay. We're going to get up, and then take one step. Just one, and then step your other leg to the first. If that goes well we'll do another step. Okay? Brett, will you stand in between the bars?"
Brett nods and rushes around, his hand stroking one bar as he walks towards him. Eddy catches a glance of his face. It's pale, so pale, the eyes tight with stress, his lips mere lines in his taut face.
"I'm okay." he tells him before he knows it. He grabs the bars and this time he pulls himself up. No help. He smiles proudly before the daggers shoot through him. 
"Ow." He mouths but he steps with his left foot anyway, then closes with his right. Brett is right in front of him, just a couple of steps away. "I'm coming." he tells him roughly. "Stay there."
One step, close. Another, close. It used to be so easy but now it's hard, but it'll get easier, he knows. One more step and he's there, and he leans against him for just a moment, choking back a sob, hot forehead against smooth, black hair.
"I'm walking."  he whispers. Brett nods against him. 
"I know you are. It's awesome." he breathes back.
Susan puts the chair right behind him then and touches his shoulder so he sits. Then she pulls him back to the beginning of the bars and faces him. 
"Very, very good, Eddy. This is very hopeful. What do you say. Try one more time?"  
"Absolutely."

He takes a deep breath and pulls himself up again. But wait, what? Brett is walking backwards slowly, at Susan's pointing. Eddy takes a step towards him, and closes. Another step, and closes. Brett's eyes are large, and sweet, and wanting. Like he could kiss him, right now. 
"You're doing great, Eddy." he says. But his tone betrays him. Eddy knows he's on the verge of tears. 
No, Bretty, don't cry because if you do so will I, his eyes tell him as he walks slowly towards him. Step, close. Step, close. 
Now he knows it's getting easier. The daggers are getting softer, melting, giving way, like they're turning into water. Into blood and bones. He steps and sure, a tear rolls down his cheek but who cares? Surely Susan has seen it all before. Another step and it's the end of the bars. He throws his arms around Brett at last and stands there with him, chest to chest. 
For the first time. 
"My God." Brett whispers in his ear. 
"I know, right?"
"So, you want to walk back with these?" Susan appears at his side with a slight smile, holding out some crutches, the chair still near. "Or holding one bar, maybe? You can also sit."
"I'll walk back." he says decisively.