Unfixable

Fond Memories

"Nice..." Gavin murmured as Chloe opened the long box. It was his cane. Elijah had just collected it from town. It was safely tucked within a red velvet lining. The box seemed a lot of trouble to go to for something that would never be placed in it again. The cane itself was wrapped in a thin, black cloth. Chloe let him do the honours. It seemed to have a good weight as he pulled it free. The main body was a sleek, smooth black. It was good and strong all the way down to the metal-tipped base. He tapped the end on the floor, hearing a loud tapping sound. Well, at least people will hear me coming...At the top was an ornate golden handle, probably made of bronze. It didn't curve like a hook. It was almost flat, like a door handle. There was textured gilding all over it, except across the top where his palm would rest and an oval plate on the side, where his name had been engraved in fancy swirling text. Not that I'm likely to forget or leave it anywhere...

"Why don't you try it out?" Chloe suggested eagerly as she put the lid on the box and set it aside. They were up in one of the examination rooms. She'd called him in to give him a quick once-over and deliver the cane. Everything was going well. His skin where the prosthetic sat was still a little pink and raw, but it should gradually strengthen as he got used to it. The balm he'd used the night before had sort of eased the sting a bit. He'd worn the prosthetic over for the examination, but he fully intended to take a break that day. A little practice first wouldn't hurt though...

"Alright, just a turn around the room, though." Gavin passed the stick between his hands a few times, testing the weight. It felt nice. Balanced. Chloe tapped his right arm. The stick needed to be in his stronger hand. He stood straight and stepped forward with his left foot and the cane. The hard part would be balancing as his stronger foot left the ground. He wobbled a little as he took the first step. It was harder than it looked, and completely different to using crutches. Chloe stepped in front and walked backwards with her hands out, ready to steady him if he fell. "Phck, this is weird..." It was like having three legs. If he leaned on his left, he'd fall, but it felt weird leaning on the right when he stepped with his left.

"It'll come with time." With time. It seemed everything came with time these days. Walking. Healing. The end of the war. Nines coming back. He sighed as he stopped and leaned on the examination table. Balancing was hard, and his leg was fucking sore. "Maybe try again tomorrow. You wanted to rest your leg today, didn't you?" Chloe added sympathetically as she took his left arm. Gavin nodded as he took the weight off his leg, wincing at the pinch of the prosthetic. He reverted to crutches as he returned to his room. Chloe said she'd drop the cane by later.

As soon as he was back, he hopped to the bed and sat with a groan, barely waiting an instant before hurriedly tugging the thick laces free. He moaned and sighed in relief as the grip loosened and the heavy attachment clattered to the floor. He flopped on his back and stared up at the ceiling, legs still dangling over the end of the bed. Usually Nines was there to gently chide him and pick up after him. He'd have to lean down and grab the damned thing himself at some point. He dug his good heel against the base of the bed and pulled until his shoe clattered free.

After shuffling and rolling into a more comfortable position, Gavin settled down to gaze out at the clear blue sky. It was another nice day. He couldn't help wondering whether the nice weather had carried over to France as well. His tired eyes fell shut, still heavy from the night before. He hadn't slept well. He wasn't used to sleeping alone after three solid months of feeling Nines pressed up behind. If he stayed really still, he could almost feel it. The lingering warmth against his back. The hint of another body lying close. He didn't shuffle closer. He knew Nines wasn't there.

His thoughts soon returned to France. If there were no assaults going on, Nines would be in the resting camp tending to sick and injured soldiers. He slipped into his own memories, seeing Nines in his field medic uniform moving smoothly through the makeshift ward. Only about eight cots would fit inside each of the large tents. Nines checked charts and pulses, administering medication as necessary. Gavin felt his chest flutter as those silvery eyes raised to look right at him. Nines made his way over and sat on the edge of his cot.