commander

book

Nala

Bed rest sucks. I've been in the hospital for too long. Every time I moved, even to adjust a pillow or fix my blanket, I ached. I want to be better. I wanted to weep for years with the pain in my leg or my voice or my arm or my hand. All of me hurt.

It was morning now, almost eight. I had to fix Torra's arm when it rested on my cracked rib. Andi was here, but she was asleep on the other bed. I wanted so badly to start my day and my recovery. I reached into Andi's bag and grabbed a muffin, eating  small pieces and swallowing slowly. My throat was bruised, from what, I have no idea.

"Nala?" Torra started waking up. "You're awake." He kissed my forehead, a new habit of his, as he lifted me so I could sit up. "Angelica said she was going to come at eight with some options for you to start walking on your own. Crutches, maybe a wheelchair, probably a walker, though."

"I am not using a wallet. I can use the crutches."

"No. Your hand is burnt and your arm was out of its socket."

"My hand is fine. It's had plenty of ointment and time to heal. My arm is back in its socket." My hand felt fine. I legitimately have no idea when my arm was dislocated. I am good. Good enough for crutches, at least.

"We can talk when Angelica is here."

"Then don't stop." Angelica brought a bag of who knows what kind of medical junk. She was followed by a wheelchair carrying two sets of crutches, each a different type. I'm was an elbow crutch, I remember from Elliot breaking his ankle when he was seven. I remember them laying in his closet. There was another as well, but so can't remember its name.

"Good morning." She knelt down and combed Neal's hair with her fingers. "Do any of your injuries feel better?"

I remember this question. "My hand feels good. So does my shoulder. My throat isn't as bad, and my ankle feels different. My thigh hurts even more and so do my ribs." I counted off everything.

"Your concussions?"

"Not really something I noticed. I might get dizzy, but I feel fine." The moment I finished Torra spoke up.

"Bullshit." Torra didn't believe me.

"No, I promise. I swear it. Please believe me."

"You suck, you now that?" Torra pulled on my waist and kissed me on the cheek.

Angie sat in the corner document things, pulling files from a bag. She studied previous Blake cases of bar were similar to mine to find an idea of my recovery time, since genetic modification caused everything about me to be accelerated.

"Nala, you should be better come spring, but there's always bumps on the road." Angelica sat on the edge of the bed with files in her lap. "We should get up." Angie brushed my hair with her fingers. She loved to do that.

"Really?" I pushed myself up and lifted my bad leg to the edge. Torra stood up and walked around, grabbing his shirt from the side table. Angie had a look of utter astonishment.

"My God, he's an actual machine!" Angelica whispered in a Napoli-indigenous language, having definitely approved. "Is he good in bed?"

"Nala seems to think so." Torra had pulled his shirt over before tying his boots.

Angelica's jaw had dropped. "Uh......let's get started on the crutches?" She switched the topics uncomfortably, assuming she was no longer interested in Torra.

Torra grabbed them for me. I took each and got the comfortable in my hand before I tried to stand up. I couldn't on my own. Torra lifted me up. On the crutches, I was fine standing still. My arms would get tired with too much movement but I was fine. Maybe I wouldn't need any type of dependence on Torra, Andi, or even Angie.