Broken String

CLV

"I can't believe it." Brett says at last as their street comes into view. They've been heading home in silence, both of them too stunned to speak.
Because he did walk back, you see. One hand on the bar, and slowly, sure. But he walked. And he could feel the pain fading as he did. It was so hard not to cry, looking up at the kind-eyed physio who was telling him to come back in two days and yes, he was allowed to get up to go to the toilet and no, he wasn't allowed to overdo it straight away. It was even harder not to cry once he looked to his right and saw Brett, face practised dead pan, but clearly trying to keep it together just as much. 
"Me neither." he says. He's swallowed the tears away, for now. Look. Is it necessary to have a whole scene on the street? Obviously not. And obviously Brett feels the same, so that's why the minutes-long silence. Maybe later. When they're alone. Or maybe not at all. 
"Eddy..." Brett says behind him, voice full of unnamed emotion. A hand goes on his shoulder for just a second and he covers it with his own, to tell him he gets it.
"Yeah." he tells him softly.

The apartment building looks the same as it always does. How long ago was it that he was here, on the sidewalk fumbling around to get his key, that first day his hand hurt? He knows it wasn't long. It feels like a lifetime ago. Brett pushes him into the lift and he smiles at him gratefully in the big mirror. 
"Once I can walk up the stairs I'm never taking this lift again." he says. Brett smirks.
"I'll race you up there every day."
"Cool. I also want to run a half marathon."
Brett laughs. 
"I won't race you there. I'll never get as fast or fit as you are."
"I don't know. You've built up some pushing muscles." he quips, gesturing to the heavy chair he'll almost be able to burn ritually. 
Oh, no. Maybe not. It was never his, really. But at least he'll be able to give it back.   
He will, right? It'll be gone?

"Eddy!"
It takes him a full six seconds to recover from the shock. Here he was, poised to tell the boys quickly what had happened and then retire to his bedroom, hug his love, see whether there were floods of tears or sex. Or both. But John is getting up from the couch and beaming at him. And for a moment he wants to ask him what he's doing here, but something bigger inside him takes over. 
"John! It's so good to see you!" he exclaims. "Um. How..."
"I was quite literally in the neighbourhood, so I thought I'd see if you were in. Todd urged me to stay. But I'm guessing... is this a bad time?"
Eddy shakes his head and bites the tears back down. 
"No." he says quietly. "It's a... it's a good time. A really good time. I walked."
The hush that falls over the room is something else. 
"In fact... Brett?" he says as he holds out his hand. Brett gets him straight away and takes it. Eddy pulls himself up and grimaces as the daggers start twisting. 
It doesn't matter, you see.
He knows they will die down. 
He holds onto Brett's arm and slowly walks to couch, dropping himself down and closing his eyes for a moment, until the daggers fade. Then he opens his eyes and it seems that that simple action unfreezes the whole room. 
"Jesus fuck." says Todd. "You... shit. Bro." He rushes to his side and sits down. "You... whoa. The doctor was right, then?"
"I think so." he says hoarsely. "It's getting easier."
"This is absolutely awesome news." John says, with a weird twinkle in his eye. He nods to himself and gets up. "I should leave you guys to celebrate."
"No." Eddy says, that bigger thing taking over again. There's a snippet, you see... a few words that have kept playing in his mind. Something that Ian said and he can't let it go. "Could I maybe... could we maybe talk, before you go?"