Is é an deireadh anseo

Part 7: Morning Sun

''Twisted in my genome is this thorn, 

               and all I see are feuds,'' (Morning Sun - Cathy Park Hong) 

It was true, the doctors had been right, Sebastian was suffering from nerve damage. It appeared fairly severe, Sebastian seemed to have the most minimal feeling left. 

But there was, sadly, only one way they could really check. 

He had to get up. 

Now Jim, Jim was against this idea. He knew his Tiger and he knew if things were to go wrong, Sebastian wouldn't take it lightly. He was a stubborn old goat. He had been since the Army. He had been taught in there (Jim would not use the word, he did not like it.) that bad things were on his back and even as he worked through the ranks he learnt that problems could still be blamed on him. And so, Seb became a perfectionist, ensuring there were never any problems, and if there were, he could clean them up. 

Something like this, however, was not so easily cleaned up. Not so easily fixed. If something was wrong, it could take years or could never be fixed at all. The latter was not given much time thinking about, nor speaking about. 

The pair had briefly gone over it, a few visits into knowing, the what, when and why of this scenario. Should Sebastian need more permanent care, Jim had already elected to be a part of it. Should, though really they knew, Sebastian's recovery take a long time, Jim would also agree to be a part of this. No matter what would happen, Jim would be a part of it. James would not let Sebastian be alone anymore. No more hiding this. 

Of course, Sebastian had argued at first about Jim's safety but the Irishman no longer cared about safe, he cared about Seb and that was it. He would not take no for an answer. Even when threatened with all the death threats a man in hospital could give. James was insistent, this was something they would handle together. 

And handle it together, they had. The small steps of physio, trying to get a brief reaction, everything had happened slowly but they were confident this may not be as permanent as they had first thought which was certainly reassuring to the couple. 

Though, today was a bigger day. The physio people had been insistent on getting him to stand, even if it was just standing and nothing else, no steps, nothing.  All they needed was for him to stand. Nerve damage was bad enough, muscle damage could be much worse, that would mean possible amputation, that was the worst part. But they wouldn't take about it. Instead they would take each day as an opportunity for some good news, even if they got none, they would at least hope for it.  

Today, was one of those days. They would hope for good news and not get it. At the rails where Sebastian could stand, he had, for a moment.  

With heavy hearts and quiet hands, twisting around themselves as if they wanted to merge and become one. James watched, his eyes trying to portray a hope he didn't have. He had experienced too much pain already. 

Basher shook, stumbled and fell, barely caught by a nurse, the cool floor meeting his body all too quickly.  

There was a panic, a fumble as the nurses tried to get him back to the chair. James stood, shoved them out of the way and kissed the man, shooing the nurses, refusing to let them see Sebastian as anything but strong. They obliged, leaving James and Sebastian alone. 

Helping the man up to a seated position, he made him comfortable. ''Did you hurt yourself?'' He asked quietly, tenderly, gingerly. Too nervous about the result of this. They knew what this meant. They would not say it.  

''Jim... I... don' think so.'' 

''Good.''  

There was a silence as the nurses came back and gingerly helped Sebastian back into the wheelchair he had been doomed to use. They still would not say it. Perhaps they may never say it. Not even after it happened. It may never be spoken aloud. Only thought. Perhaps mentioned in a tender touch, a gentle smile, a soft-eyed look. Never said. Time would only tell.