The Memoirs

Shayla was sitting with her back to the room as she worked on the laptop that Clark had brought her.

And the homework too. She was currently in the middle of writing a three-page essay on how Macbeth was a victim of manipulation of the people around him, and was very much ignoring the other person in the room with her.

Which, she supposed was rude, but after all, she hadn't asked him to skip school and come see her. Pete was just as guilty for keeping her in here as the rest of them were, and she really wasn't in the mood to deal with any of them right now.

At least they were finally making noises of letting her go home soon.

Yeah, well. Pete was trying not to think about how Shayla was ignoring him. He'd brought his own homework from the day before, and a small book of his favorite short stories, and was reading in the chair beside her bed. She hadn't even looked at him when he came in, but he'd had to come see her--their last conversation was haunting him, and it sat, uncomfortable and heavy, in his gut.

"You know, I can hear you breathing."

"I'm sorry, I'll try to be quieter," Pete answered, as he turned the page in his book without looking up.

"You could always leave. That would be quiet," she said, typing in, then backspacing and re-wording what she'd just written.

"Sure would, but I'm not," Pete said, quietly, as he shifted his weight to the other side and read on.

"Didn't think I'd be that lucky," she answered with a sigh. "So what do you want?"

"Nothing. Just to see you," Pete kept his eyes trained on his book. "'Sides, class was boring today."

"Right, so you decided to annoy me instead. Thanks."

"You're welcome," Pete said quietly, with sincerity, as he turned the page in his book.

Shay just rolled her eyes. "In case you missed it? That was your cue to leave."

"The nurse said I can stay until two." Pete glanced at his watch. "It's eleven."

"Yeah, but the nurse doesn't get the fact that I want to be left alone," Shay pointed out.

"That's because you shouldn't be left along. You get to brooding when you're alone, and brooding isn't a great thing," Pete said, as he shifted in his seat, set the book down in his lap, and looked at her.

"Yeah? Tell that to Bruce Wayne."

"Bruce Wayne is filthy rich. He can brood if he wants to," Pete pointed out himself.

"Oh, so since I'm poor Irish stock, I don't get to brood. I got it, thanks."

Pete snorted in his nose. "Poor Irish stock, says the girl living in a mansion on the hill side with her brother," he said, even as he leaned forward a little to get more comfortable.

"Yeah, the operative term being? With her brother."

"I don't want to argue with you," Pete said, quietly.

"Then you're here why, exactly?"

Pete didn't even bother gritting his teeth, or getting angry over her words. "I'm here because I love you, and I wanted to see you."

"I'm here. It's not like I'm going anywhere. Zoo exhibit's open for all hospital visiting hours, unless you're Lex Luthor, and then you can visit whenever you want to. You've seen me. Move along to the next exhibit."

"I'm not moving along anywhere. I'm not going to let you push me out of your life, Shayla, because you're depressed over everything that's happened. You need my help most of all, and none of the hurtful things you've said to me are going to make me love you any less, or leave you."

"Then what will?" she said hopefully. "And don't even start with this love crap, Pete, because if you loved me? You wouldn't have let them shove me in here with the rest of the loonies."

He didn't let himself flinch. "We brought you here so you could get well, Shayla. I'm not a doctor, I can't deal with what's going on with your health," Pete said, quietly but firmly. "I do love you."

"There's nothing wrong with me, so I don't need to get well!" she yelled.

"You're not acting like Shay," Pete said, quietly, not knowing he'd repeated Shayla's words to Dominic only a few short weeks go. "You're not acting like my girlfriend."

"Gee, now you fucking know how I feel! Morgan hasn't been acting like himself, and it's making me sick to my stomach to even think about it!! Now do you fucking get that there's nothing WRONG with me that having my brother back to normal won't cure???" she shouted back.

"But your brother is back, Shay," Pete said, quietly, not looking at her. "He's back to being himself. You, on the other hand, have an IV in your arm cause you're not eating. You tell me what's wrong with that picture."

"Oh, yeah, Morgan's back to normal, trundling around in a wheelchair and talking to me on the phone instead of coming to see me. Right, that's real normal."

His teeth grit. "What's going on between you and Dominic is your own business, Shayla."

"Yeah, it is, only nobody will fucking let me out of here long enough to take care of it!"

Pete fell silent. He knew everything he said, she would have a retort for, so he stayed quiet instead, just looking down at the blanket over her feet.

She just sighed. "Do us both a favor and get lost."

"No."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I love you. I want to be here with you," Pete murmured.

"Doesn't matter that I don't want you here? That I don't want anybody here?" she demanded

"Yes, it matters. To everyone else. To me, I'm going to stay here." Cause yeah. He was. "You haven't let me see you in almost a week, Shay, not since the therapy lesson."

"And that didn't give you a clue that I don't want to see you?"

"No." He'd poured over that single thought endlessly for the last week. "I know you were angry at me, but it doesn't mean I didn't want to see you."

"Okay, Pete? Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but I'm going to spell this out for you as clearly as I can. I don't want to see you. I don't, in fact, want to see anyone that had anything to do with me being put in here, and that includes you, Chloe, Whitney, Clark, Lex, and my family. Kay?"

Pete nodded, but he didn't move.

"That means you put one of your little feet in front of the other and go bye-bye."

He shook his head. "No. The last time I talked to you, you hated me. I don't want you to hate me--I want things to be well between us, Shay. I should have realized there was a problem before all this--I'm sorry."

"You want things to be happy between us? Get me out of here."

"Your brother's been working on it, but they've got to finish some things before they do," Pete said, in a low voice. "I wanted... to apologize to you, Shay. About..." He looked away for a moment. "I didn't know that the things that I thought were okay actually aren't okay, between us."

She carefully saved her essay for printing out later, when the doctors didn't think she'd slit her wrists open with the paper for the printer, and sighed. "What in the hell are you babbling on about this time?"

"About… me being.." he coughed a little, cleared his throat, as he blushed. "Being bisexual. And you thinking..." He stopped, let out a huffed sigh. "Elaine said I should talk to you as your friend, and so, think of me as your friend, okay?"

"Elaine doesn't know her ass from a hole in the ground," Shay snorted.

"Yes, she does. She's a good therapist," Pete argued softly.

"Okay, yeah, whatever. She's good, she's great."

"You're avoiding the subject."

Shay nodded. "Yep, I sure am."

Pete's frown deepened. "Why?"

"Cause, that means I'd actually have to, you know, talk to you. Instead of continually pointing out that I don't. Would kind of defeat the purpose, don't you think?"

"I'd like for you to talk to me. Just for a little bit, doesn't matter about what, if you don't wanna talk about... that."

"Yeah, see, you still ain't getting it. I don't WANT to talk. To you, or to anyone else, about anything."

"All right, Shay." He leaned back in his chair, book in hand, and opened it to the page he left off at.

"You know, why the FUCK is it so hard for you to take a fucking hint?? Leave, get out, go away!"

He shook his head, gently. "No."

"Okay, fine. If you don't, I will." She picked up the other stack of her homework papers and started out the door.

"Where are you gonna go?" Pete said, from his chair, as he ran his finger down the page, looking for his spot, and as soon as he found it, he started reading again.

"The day room. The waiting room. The little white room with no windows where they take us nutballs to talk. Anywhere but where there's people."

Yeah, right. Pete stood, book in hand, and prepared to follow her.

"I swear to God, Pete Ross, if you follow me, I will tell the orderlies that you're harassing me."

"I already told them you'd say that. They said I can follow you anywhere I want to."

"Then I'll scream until they do something. They'll either make you leave or sedate me one. Either way? I don't have to fucking deal with you."

"I love you, very much," Pete answered, as he looked at her in her little hospital gown and robe, pink slippers and tired eyes.

"So you keep sayin'," she said tiredly.

"I'm wonderin' if repeating it will get into your thick skull," Pete said back, a tiny smile curving the corner of his lips before falling away.

"If I say yes, will you go away?"

"Probably not," he confessed, softly. "You never left me after Dick was… well, a dick."

"Yeah, well... I'm a sucker that way," she said.

"Do you still want to date me?"

"Right now? I don't even want to see you, Pete. You let them lock me away in here, you didn't do anything to stop them, and I just... don't get why you did that."

"I know you don't. But you will, someday," he said, with a shrug to his shoulders. "You got very sick. I didn't want to see you die, Shay. You're the best part of me."

"Jesus CHRIST are we back to that again? I AM NOT SICK!" she bellowed.

"Shay, I can see your ribs when you breathe," he traced his thumb very gently over the ridge of one, and let his hand fall away. "Your shoulders and hips poke out, and your face is sunken in."

"You've always been able to see them, idiot. I've always been that skinny!"

"No, you haven't," Pete murmured. "I know you didn't do it cause you thought you were fat or anything--you did it because you were upset. And that's all right, I get that. But what's not all right is trying to hurt yourself, Shay. Been there, done that, homegirl tried to eat me."

"Okay, you've left me behind on that one, cause whahuh?"

Questions? Were good. Questions meant conversation, even if she didn't want to have it. "Freshmen year, this girl was drinking severe diet milk shakes made of the meteor rock. You know how that shit's like a mutagen or whatever--it totally made her metabolism so high that she... ah… was reduced to eating deer and almost me, to try and feel full."

"Great. I move to the one fucking town in the US where cannibalism reigns."

"Not just cannibalism. We've got stalking, burglary, murder, and larceny, too. And don't forget about Sneaky Lex."

"... tell me again why anybody wants to live in this place?" She just shrugged. "Let me guess--the land value is great?"

"Superb. Plus, it's kinda died off on its own. We haven't had any severe problems here, except for Clark of course, since about the time Lana died. No, Clark's the only weird one around here these days."

"So she was like, Queen Freak or something, and once she died they all went bye-bye? That's good, though I'm sure that Clark's having problems now because he doesn't have anyone to exercise the weirdness out on."

"Now that you say it, she probably was Queen Freak," Pete mussed. "All that pink must have gotten to her brain. …No offense."

She scowled at that. "Hey, I happen to like pink. Bite me."

"Tell me the time and place," Pete said, his lips quirking a little.

"As soon as you get me out of here."

"Incentive, huh? How very Luthorian of you. They're having a bad influence on you."

"Hey, you gotta learn from the best."

Pete motioned her back to the bed, a little, with gentle hands, without making it obvious what he was doing. "I haven't heard from them for a day or two, I gotta call Clark and tell him the shit he missed for the part of the class I was there this morning."

"I haven't heard from Lex either since he decided he's going to make rehabilitating me his pet project. Get this shit--he wants me to design fucking jewelry for him!"

"Oh, the pretty things you make with henna and beads and all?" Pete asked as he rose his wrist, where the bracelet she'd made him months ago was still tied around his wrist, which he hadn't removed.

"Yeah, that shit. And the metalwork too--he's importing a shitload of copper from Chile--top grade and everything."

"That's excellent. You make awesome stuff, I can't wait to see what you come up with. And if Lex is gonna help you, it'll be even better," Pete said, giving her another small smile.

"Okay, um, Pete, did you NOT catch the whole thing I said about being Lex's little rehab project???"

"Yeah, but this isn't, not really. Cause you're really good at this stuff."

She rolled her eyes. "Right, I can just see the name on the marquee: Psychopathic: Jewelry by a psychiatric inmate."

Pete's lips twitched. "That's not bad. You know, Van Gough and all that?" he asked, as he helped her back into her warm bed.

"Y'know, I'll tell you what I told Clark. Van Gough didn't get recognition for being anything but a whack job that chopped off his ear until after he was dead. So, unless I want to make a bunch of shit and then kill myself? Yeah. Not gonna happen."

"Pessimist," Pete said. "You could cut something else off. ..Like your hair!" he teased, quietly, as he plunked back in the chair by her bed.

She stared at herself in the mirror. "You know, that's not a bad idea. I could make a fashion statement; go bald like Lex."

"Please don't," Pete winced. "I like your hair as it is. We've got enough bald men to be going on with, don't you think?"

She ran her fingers musingly through her blond hair. "It's a thought," she said anyway. "A very, very good thought."

Pete made a face, and was about to make a comparison to how weird it would be if she had no hair, when a giant farm boy came skidding in.

"Shay!" Clark cried, panting, eyes wild and hair a thoroughly terrible mess that stuck up in every direction and made him looked wild, a little debauched, and horrified. "Chloe… she… and. And she... she... there's. And. Whitney? Bruised. Nuts… never the same. She… it.."

Shayla blinked. "Okay, Clark? Breathe. Deep breaths. And try for complete sentences. You'll be a lot easier to understand that way."

Clark gave a wheezing breath, hands on his knees, before he lifted his head and cried, "Chloe's having her baby!"

"Good for her, I'm glad she's--

WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?"

"Baby! She! Baby! Screaming! Lex having a breakdown!" Clark panted, and reached over, plucking Shay from the bed as easily as the breeze, stood her on her feet, grasped her hand, and yanked. "Clearance! Said... I could get...YOU! You! She… wants… YOU!"

Shay yelped as Clark yanked her around and glared. "Okay, okay, I'm coming, but if she tells me to get lost, I'm coming right back up here, you got it?"

"You… skinny. Can yank you around if I want!" Clark panted, glaring, panting some more. "Come… on! We've got to go, she's waiting for us! Come ON!" he cried, and dashed out the door before them.

Pete, who was slightly struck dumb, gave a stupid grin. "Chloe's having a baby. Cool. Wanna go?"

Shay held up her arms to make sure that Clark hadn't yanked it out of the socket and made one about ten inches longer than the other one. "Sure, why the hell not? There's not nearly enough adventure in my life."

"Besides, you totally wanna check out the baby thing," Pete grinned.

- = - = -

Chloe hated Whitney Fordman with every fiber of her existence.

The man was a bane on human nature. A wraith. A total and complete mar on the human evolutionary scale.

The bastard was putting her through this, and he was pleased. PLEASED! Was he dilated? was he going to have a kid sometime in the near--or in her mind frame, far--future?

No.

And so she let him know just what she thought of him, several times over the course of the next four hours. It was early afternoon, one o'clock or so she could see from the clock in front of her bed, and she had threads of Whitney's hair still stuck between her fingers.

It pleased her immensely.

Whitney?

Even more pleased.

Despite being snatched nearly bald, the grin on his face spread from ear to ear and threatened to swallow his entire head. He was going to be a papa in just a few hours, and nothing that anyone could do was going to bring him down.

Like, ever.

He leaned over his girlfriend, angling in for a reassuring kiss to her cheek. "You're doing so good, baby, I'm so proud of you."

"Fuck your pride, and fuck your "doing good, baby."," Chloe hissed between clenched teeth. "I should have never believed you. 'It'll be fun, Chloe! sex is great!' FUCK YOU!"

Whitney had the gall to laugh. "It is fun, baby. This is just the not so fun part of it. But, don't worry. We'll talk to the doctors, and we'll make sure that we get you on birth control and that this won't happen again. But just think, honey, in a few hours, we're going to have a beautiful little baby Fordman. He's going to be smart like his mama, and he's going to be big and strong like his pop."

Lex just leaned forward on her other side. "I can have him killed for you before anyone knows he's missing."

Clark arrived to hear just the tail end of that, and he leapt forward, grabbing Chloe's arms before they reached around his neck, and she screeched in his ear, arms and legs flailing at Whitney's smug face.

"GET OUT! I do not want you NEAR me! GET OUT WHITNEY! GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!"

Shayla walked in, rubbing her ear with the heel of one hand. "Ain't a fuckin' thing wrong with her lungs at least," she muttered.

"SHAYLA!" And she promptly burst into tears.

Clark, horrified, let Chloe go, grabbed Whitney, grabbed Lex, and pointed at the door. "We should go. Let them… yeah. Whitney? Dude. If you keep this up you're not gonna have anything to have sex with. Telling her its fun? Not the best thing to do. Telling her she gets to have a baby? Also not the best thing to do. You're a dumb ass, and yet, I love you."

Whitney didn't hear a word of what Clark was saying to him. "I need to get cigars," he muttered. "She is having a baby, Clark, she's having my baby, and he's going to be a beautiful baby, I just know it."

Lex waved at Chloe as Clark yanked him around. "C'mon, Whitney. Let's get you out of here before the mother of your child kills you."

Shayla winced at the tears. "Yeah, get the fuck outta here already," she said, waving the others out. "Yeah, get out, make room, you're all a bunch of fucking brick walls in a tiny room, get out."

Chloe was just crying, tears heaving out and her hands over her face as she wailed, and the men filtered out slowly, leaving her with her horribly falling tears.

Shayla slammed the door behind the guys and went over to the bedside and sat down on it. "Okay, C'lo, they're gone. It's just us now."

Chloe reached out and hugged her friend sooo so hard, pulling her close and crying on her shoulder, hiccupping, ow-ing, and sniffling. "I hate this, it hurts, and he's laughing!"

"Did you ask for drugs?" Shay asked, hugging her back and petting her hair gently. "As for him laughing? Deny him sex when you get out. He won't be laughing long, I guarantee it."

"He can't, anyway, for eight weeks, but he's not getting it until the baby's in high school!" Chloe sobbed into her friends shoulder, hugging her tightly and close because she needed Shay more then anything or anyone else right now. "I asked for drugs, but they gotta wait, and I hate this! Hate!"

She couldn't help the soft giggle at that, and she rocked Chloe as best she could. "High school, huh? Not gonna make him wait until the kid's playing college football?" A little sigh. "I know it hurts--well, actually, I don't know, because I've never had a kid before, but everyone else in my family has, pretty much, but it's gonna be worth it when you hold that little kid in your arms and know that he's a part of you."

"It'll be worth it making Whitney PAY for doing this to me!" Chloe shrieked.

"Yeah, he really sucks, that Fordman guy. Completely in love with you, and so thrilled that you're all gonna have a family together. He just sucks balls."

"I'm glad someone finally agrees with me!" Chloe cried, loudly.

Apparently, a Chloe Sullivan in labor didn't get sarcasm. "Of course I do, C'lo," is all Shayla said in agreement.

No, a Chloe in labor most certainly did not, nor one that burst into horrendous tears as she wailed, "I hate this! I hate him! I want it to be over!"

"It'll be over soon," is all Shay could offer. "At least it's a short labor. Mama was in labor with me for almost forty eight hours."

"Short? I've been in labor for eight hours already!" Chloe cried, and then winced as her belly viced.

"Ah. Yeah... um." She didn't bring the attention back to the possible forty more hours of labor in front of her. "See? Short. Just barely as long as a school day, and probably less painful," she reassured, petting her shoulder gently.

- = - = -

Dominic was no stranger to lying on the floor. In fact, it was secretly one of his favorite places to have rough, wicked sex, where he liked to lay when his back was killing him, or when he read. Sometimes, he even curled up, with a pillow-shaped Lionel, in front of the fire in their bedroom and spent luxurious evenings with him.

And to say he liked laying on his belly on the floor was alright, as well. He liked being taken that way, after all. However, he did not like repeatedly falling on the fucking thing.

Even if there were mats under him.

Yes, Eddie had insisted on the double bars. And he had tricked him! TRICKED! Eddie said he wouldn't let go, but then he did, and as soon as Dominic's ears stopped ringing from the hard thump he'd taken on the floor, he'd given the little snot an ear full, told him if he let go he was ripping his testicles off, and eating them for breakfast.

So, as soon as Eddie had promised he wouldn't let go, they tried again.

Eddie let go. Again.

And Dominic was on the floor.

Again.

This happened four times before he finally didn't even bother trying to roll back over, and instead set his cheek on the now-warm plastic of the mats, toasty from his own damn body heat from falling, and just sighed.

Eddie clapped his hands and hauled himself up over Dominic on the bars. "Okay! Let's try that again! Up and let's go."

"Fuck off, you cocksmacking bastard."

Eddie snickered. "C'mon, Dominic! We're gonna get you up on the bars today!" He reached his hand down and held it out.

"I've been on the bars. Repeatedly. So have my ribs, my side, my belly, my head, and the underneath of my arms. In fact, I'd say every part of me has been on the bars today, hanging on for dear life as you let me go, you sadistic prick. I'm bruised, I'm tired, and I am done for today."

"You're not done for today," Eddie countered. "We've only been at this for an hour. We've got two more hours to go, and we're gonna keep trying until we get you up and you stay up."

Dominic lifted his head, looked over his shoulder, and sent Eddie a glare he reserved only for Charlie when the boy spilled coffee all over his reports or something equally as atrocious. "You're barking mad."

"Woof! Woof!" Eddie just gave a charming smile and held his hand out.

That the patented Death Glare didn't work upset Dominic, and he glowered even darker as he grasped Eddies hand and....well. Nothing more he could do, here, but he could lift himself up to sitting, using his good hand. "Funny. Very, very funny," he snarled.

Eddie was trying hard not to grin. "Laney already warned me about the Looks, the Glares, and the Eye Rolling. None of it's working, and see? You got up by yourself this time!" He moved to stand behind Dominic, and put both hands on Dominic's lift belt. "Okay. Push up with your legs, then grab the bars and hold yourself up."

Push up with his legs. HAH. He could barely get them to do any fucking thing, but he did as he was told, his knees shaking with the exertion as he pushed against them with all his mouth, a short, grunting cry of pain echoing from him as he did. The muscles screamed, his back was all but thrown out, and as soon as he could, he grabbed the bars and held on as tightly as he could, panting.

"There we go!" Eddie lifted and helped Dominic get back on his feet. "Okay! Good! Get your arms back into position, and let's take a step."

"We've been trying to take a bloody step since we started!" Dominic snarled, as he grasped the bars as tightly as he could and locked the elbows. "What the bloody fuck do you think we've been doing, playing watch-Dominic-take-a-fall?"

"And we're gonna keep tryin' till we do it," Eddie answered, patting Dominic on the shoulder. "Okay. Move your foot forward."

Dominic did. God almighty, he concentrated with all of his being on doing it, forcing the muscle to move as he wanted it to, forcing his entire lower body to do what he wanted to. And he took the step. One step, tiny. But then, of course, he lost his balance, and grasped the bars all the harder for it, giving a short bark of surprise as he kept himself up just by the barest of whims.

He knew he was going to fall any second. Bound to happen. But he held on, knuckles turning white with the effort.

Eddie sprinted around the bars and swung under them, getting in front of his patient. "Okay, that's good. Bring the other foot forward too, and finish the step out."

He shuddered, tightly, grasping the bars all the harder because his knees were shaky enough as it was and he couldn't do it, no no no, but he had to try, goddammit he'd had enough head injuries, and he took the step.

Lost his balance, as he'd known he would, and pitched forward.

Eddie just smiled. "We're making progress! But, next time, we're going to start with the other leg first, since that's what you seem to be having trouble with, and finish up with the good one."

"Progress?!" Dominic bellowed, from the confines of Eddie's shirt where he was currently squashed. "At least this time you decided not to let me crack my brain open!"

"I wasn't going to let you crack your brain open in the first place, Dom. And yes, progress, because you got half the step taken with your good leg, and by God, we're gonna finish the step before I go home today!"

Dominic growled something low in his throat and looked up, snarling. "Fine. Help me back up?"

"That's what I'm here for!" Eddie bounded back behind Dominic, and put his hands on the lift belt. "Get ready to push up, and... go." He lifted Dominic easily as the other man helped himself to rise. "Okay. Hands on the bar and left leg forward first."

Dominic grasped the bars again, though he was utterly exhausted, and took a deep breath before he worked to move his left leg again, forward, but this time Eddie didn't even have to let go before Dominic sagged forward, and a cry of rage echoed out of him. "God DAMNIT!"

Eddie had felt Dominic going limp, and he'd kept hold of the belt to keep him upright. "Come on, Dominic. It's hard, I know, but we gotta do this."

In his deepest heart, Dominic didn't know if he wanted to, but then he thought of Lionel and he let Eddie help him back up, a low hiss exploding in his throat as he stood again, fingers tightening, elbows straightening, and he inhaled again, deeply.

"Now, there's a good man." Eddie nodded. "Now, let's try that step again. Left foot then right foot, and I'll be holding you up."

Dominic nodded, inhaling again, and he concentrated with all of his might to take the step. He did. But as soon as he moved his leg his knee refused to hold his weight up and he sagged, nearly falling again, and tears of frustration and anger came to his eyes as he grit his teeth. "No more."

"Yeah, we have to. Remember when I said you'd hate me? This is what I mean." Eddie lifted up with the belt again. "I'm going to let go on the count of three, so you better be ready, okay?" Deep breath. "One. Two. Three."

"No... bloody... more," Dominic hissed, even as he held on, tightly, his muscles all screaming and his eyes clenching tightly as he did it. "Eddie, goddammit, dammit, don't, no more," he hissed, as he held himself upright as tightly as he could, leaning most of his weight heavily on his better leg.

"Look, we have to. That's all there is to it. Now, left forward, and then right."

"I don't have… to... do any… thing," Dominic panted through the exertion, as he struggled like mad to move. His left hand moved forward a bit, and with it, he was able to brace himself harder, tighter, not that it did a world of good. He shifted that foot forward, it buckled again, and he gave a cry as his elbow smacked the bar and he fell on the mat again.

Eddie crouched down on the mat beside Dominic. "Yeah. You do have to," he said quietly. "If you want to walk again."

He was breathing hard, the breaths shuddering, and he closed his eyes for a moment as his muscles all screamed even with the smallest movement. He didn't say anything for a moment, calming down from the hard workout Eddie was putting him through, and all he felt was despair.

Eddie let Dominic catch his breath for a few minutes, then stood back up, before Dominic's muscles could get too cold. "Come on. Let's give it another go."

"Eddie, I can't do this," Dominic said, softly, as Eddie helped him back up. "How can I possibly do this? How can anyone do this?"

"You can do it. You work, you practice, you exercise. Sure you fall down, but you get back up again and keep right on going. The problem comes in when you won't get back up."

"Meaning you scream in pa...in," Dominic grunted, as he held the bars again with tired arms, "You try not to die because you can't walk anymore, what you've been doing since you were a wee lad, and keep on going despite the fact that it's likely you'll never do it properly again?" Dominic answered, and perhaps the frustration and anger was working through him, but he said instead, "I'm trying once more, and that's it. Understood?"

"You're trying until you do it," Eddie corrected."

"I'm trying once more. And then we're stopping for today," Dominic corrected back, glaring at him as he held tight.

"No, we're not. We're not stopping until six. You're trying until six or you take your first step, whichever comes first." Eddie's cheerful smile didn't slip.

Dominic gave him a look of pure, unadulterated hatred. He knew he'd get his way, because he was Dominic and he got his way when he commanded it. A trait he got straight from Lionel, actually, and he looked back across the bars, holding onto them tightly and forcing his exhausted muscles to concentrate.

Eddie ignored the look, and kept a firm grip on the lift belt. "Okay. I'm letting go, and start left first, then right. Okay? Letting go on 3... 2... 1... and go."

Dominic shifted his hand again, grasped the bar tightly, and took the step. He forced his knee to stay still, where it warbled terribly but after he set more weight on it once the joint held he was able to hold himself up enough to bend it, and take another step with the other. "Oh, God, I'm going to--"

Fall.

Thud.

Eddie sighed, and crouched down beside Dominic, rolling him onto his back. "You did better--you're almost there. You almost got that whole step. Come on. Let's get you up, and do it one more time, all the way through, then we'll take a breather, have something to drink, and do a few bends."

Yeah, well. Dominic was phase one into Major Depression. He just nodded, furious with himself, furious with gravity, and furious with Eddie for all of this, but Dominic rolled back onto his back and struggled to sit up. "It won't hold my weight."

"Yeah, it will, it's just not used to it. But that's why you've got the bars here to help. Let them take your weight, and you concentrate on moving your legs."

"I am concentrating. What the bloody hell do you think I'm doing, then? Enjoying falling on my arse?!"

"I know, Dom," he soothed. "I'm just saying. Let the bars take the weight, not your legs. That's what they're there for."

"I'm trying," Dominic grit out, his voice way too shaky for his liking and he glared upward at Eddie, daring the little shit to say anything about it.

"Yep, you are. And we're gonna try again, so let's get you up and on the bars."

"No," Dominic answered, though it was more of a snarl then a word, and he thanked God he couldn't walk because it was easy to reach across for his wheel chair, grab it, roll it over, and after he set the break he struggled up into it, by almost crab walking without his legs. He managed it, though he was out of breath after he did it, and he glared at Eddie as he set each foot in the foot steps, turned the chair around, and rolled it for the door.

"If you roll out that door, I'm going too," Eddie called out after him. "Remember what I told you the first day I agreed to work with you? I'd hang around only as long as you didn't give up on me. You roll out, you're giving up, and I'm out of here. You can find another therapist."

Dominic stopped the movement, his shoulders tensing tightly. He didn't want to have anyone else, goddammit, because he just wanted to get this over with, but his pride was thumping hard in his heart. "I'm not giving up," he said in a low voice, trembling with rage, though at himself or someone else it was hard to tell. "I'm done for today. I'm not going to push myself until I can't move."

"Bullshit," Eddie said easily. "You're discouraged because you fell, and you're giving up. Furthermore, you're pissed off at me because I won't let you quit. But it's your decision. Roll out now and I walk out, or come back and we finish today's work."

Oh. The rage took another huge leap up into his throat, and he looked down at his lap as he spoke. "I hate you."

"Of course you do," Eddie answered.

"I didn't just fall. I haven't stopped falling. I'm tired of falling." And maybe he was a little irritated because this bastard told him he couldn't have sex, but hey, feel free to sprawl out on the mats of doom, Dominic! Little fucking bastard.

"You're also tired of trying," Eddie pointed out. "Nobody ever told you this would be a cakewalk. It's going to take hard work, a lot of unpleasant exertion, and I thought you had it in you. I'm sorry to see I was wrong."

Oh.

Oh, no, he didn't.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Are you sitting here calling me a coward?"

"No, I'm standing here, calling you a coward." Eddie crossed his arms over his chest.

Dominic raised a one fingered salute. "Fuck you. You don't know who I am, or what I'm made of. You don't know what I've done and seen in my life, and you're too ignorant to think that maybe I'm a person behind this chair. I've done more then you can ever think imaginable, you pup, still wet behind the ears as you are. Fuck this and fuck you."

And he turned, wheeling his chair right on out.

"Goodbye, Dominic!" Eddie turned off the cardio machine, turned off the lights in the gym, picked up his bag, and left the room, slamming it and the front door behind him.

Dominic stopped in the hall flinching at the call, the slammed door, and then straightened his shoulders, gathering his pride around him like a cloak, and wheeling himself down the hall toward the elevator.

 

-fin-

go on to the next part