A Knight in Shining Armor || A DuckTales Story

A Broken Body, and a Healed Heart

Dylan remembered very little of what happened after the bomb went off. It flashed in his mind, several voices calling his name as it did. His leg had hurt painfully because of its proximity to the explosion, though he managed to subconsciously absorb the rest of it with his fire powers. However, he'd lost flight control and dove into the sea on the east-coast. Then he was washed ashore, and he heard Gizmoduck calling his name worriedly, then letting out an exclamation of horror and shock. Upon what? Dylan didn't know. All he knew now were the voices calling his name in his head, echoing ethereally. His Uncle Wildwing, Frida, Gizmoduck, their voices, calling his name.

After a few moments of that, his eyes slowly started to blink open. The first thing he noticed was the tiniest crack in the left lens of his glasses. Then he saw he was in a rather white room. It took him a bit to realize it was a hospital room, for he had a nasty headache trying to wake himself up. He groaned as he did, feeling coming back to some of his body. From the corner of his eye, he saw on his left, just the person he needed right now: his Uncle Wildwing. Frida sat on his shoulder, smiling softly at Dylan. Wildwing smiled at Dylan as well, as Dylan slowly turned his head to face him, putting a hand to his forehead.

"What — happened?" he groaned hoarsely.

Wildwing, ever so gently, ran his hand through Dylan's feathers, and kissed his forehead.

"You saved the day, buddy," he said quietly. Frida nodded.

Dylan was still a bit confused, his headache messing with the memories that flashed in and out, and made him hazy. More feeling started to come back to Dylan's body, and he moved a bit more to help with that...then he paused.

"I can't feel my leg," he said.

That much just occurred to him. The rest of his body felt moveable, to say the least, but his left leg was completely numb. Not even tingling. Dylan wasn't sure why, and it was covered by the blanket of the hospital bed. He reached to remove it and see what the problem was, but Wildwing winced, and gently put his hand on Dylan's to stop him.

"I wouldn't do that yet, if I were you, kiddo," he said.

"Yeah, uhm..." Frida uttered.

"Why, why not?" Dylan said hazily, backing away a bit. "Is it bad, is it bad? I don't wanna look."

Wildwing cringed, the blanket having slipped off slightly as Dylan backed away. Frida covered her eyes in her paws.

"Scale of one-to-ten how bad is it?" Dylan choked as he shut his eyes.

Wildwing winced again.

"Uhm...I'd say it's about a seven-point — leg amputated —"

Dylan wasn't sure he heard that correctly, all of his senses fading in and out with his hazy mind.

"Wha-my leg is-w-what s-say it one more time —"

"Just don't look down —" Frida tried to calmly reassure.

"Why-why shouldn't I look down?" Dylan said hazily.

At this point, the whole blanket had slipped off. As much as Dylan wanted to not look down, for his uncle's and Frida's sake, as well as his own, his ever present curiosity got the better of him. He looked down to see that where his left leg should have been, there was a bandaged stump that ended a bit above the knee. Dylan screamed in shock, looking away, and he tried to push himself away from the stump.

"I-have-no-leg-I-have-no-leg!" he cried. "That's way worse than anything I could've thought!"

Dylan continued to try and back away, but he knew that this was his body now. There was nothing he could do, but he was not calm about it. However, he lost most of the little energy he had in the moment from writhing around, and stopped feebly. His breath was speedy, and out of control, his heart pounding against his ribs, threatening to explode. Wildwing placed one hand on Dylan's shoulder, and the other around his arm.