Hold My Hand (Sequel to Saved: Adopted by Brendon Urie)

Chapter 14

Physio had Abby up and out of her chair. She was strapped into a contraption of belts and pulleys attached to the ceiling in the physio clinic and stood between two even parallel bars.

"Okay, come on, Abby," Eric said. "Concentrate and take a step."

Abby was holding herself up with her arms. She couldn't feel the floor beneath her sneakers. She couldn't feel her sneakers on her feet.  But she had a look of determination that made Brendon smile as he watched.

Abby kept working harder and harder in physio and they were seeing results.

One afternoon, after Abby had come home from school, Brendon and Abby were sitting in the dining room while Abby did her homework at the table. The breakfast bar was too high for her.

Abby groaned and looked uncomfortable.

"What's up?" Brendon asked her.

"My foot hurts," she said, the words not quite sinking in as she said it. She was bent over and was rubbing her foot.

"Your... what?  Abby? What did you say?"

"My foot..." realization came across her face. "My foot hurts!  Dad! I can feel my foot!"

Brendon grabbed Abby out of her chair, picked her up and hugged her tight. Both of them were crying and laughing.

Boyd and Grace, who had decided since they were in LA for thanksgiving and were staying to help Brendon with Abby, that they'd stay through to Christmas, too, walked in and immediately worried.

"What's the matter?  What happened?" Grace asked. Abby looked at her grand mother.

"My foot hurts," Abby sniffed. "I can feel my right foot!"

Boyd grabbed his granddaughter from his son and spun her around as he held her tight.

They celebrated. Abby had feeling in her right foot and some was returning to her left foot. Movement wasn't quite as fluid, but with concentration, Abby could move her toes on her right foot.

They spent a lot of time in the pool and Brendon had exercises from Eric to help Abby strengthen her legs now that she had some movement and feeling.

As days went by and Abby continued to work hard, and Brendon started to worry, just a little, that she would work hard but wouldn't walk unassisted again.

Abby, on the other hand, was determined to walk again. And no one told Abby what she could and couldn't do.

Christmas morning, Brendon was up early and laying in his bed marvelling at the past year.  He had a daughter. Last year she'd spent the holiday in the hospital with a severe head injury. This year she was home and on her way to walking again. Two years ago, Brendon wasn't convinced he would have still been alive after losing Sarah. But he had Abby now.

He was forced out of his own thoughts by the sound of Abby's toilet flushing. At first he thought it was probably one of his parents using the shared washroom. Abby needed help to the toilet. But he didn't hear the bathroom door open or the hallway door close. Because of Abby's needs, he slept with his bedroom door partially open.

"Dammit!" He heard from Abby's bathroom. Brendon jumped up and ran to her bathroom. What the heck was going on?

"Abby? Are you in there? Are you okay?" He knocked on the door in the hallway.

"Yeah. I'm in here. And yeah, I'm okay," she called back.

"Can I come in?" He asked. 

"I guess," Abby said. Tentatively, Brendon turned the handle and opened the bathroom door. Abby was sitting on her bathroom rug, brushing her teeth.

"Why are you on the floor?" He asked. Abby grinned a very foamy smile at her dad.

"I'm brushing my teeth," she said.

"I can see that. Why are you on the floor though?"  Where's your chair?"

Abby had gotten very independent using her chair and was able to get herself in and out of the washroom herself. Mostly.

Abby grinned at him again.

"It's in my room," she said. Brendon wasn't understanding what she meant. He was starting to think that either he was missing something or he was actually still asleep and this was a very weird dream.

Then Abby leaned back, tossed her toothbrush into the sink, put her hands down and rolled herself onto her knees. Brendon watched as Abby grasped the countertop and pulled herself into a slightly awkward standing position and, leaning on the sink, she rinsed her toothbrush and mouth. Brendon was staring. Abby was standing. Albeit she was using the countertop to lean on, Abby was up on her own two feet.

"Abby!" Brendon exclaimed, forgetting to be quiet for his parents.

Abby grinned at her dad.

"You ain't see. Nothin' yet, Pops," Abby smiled.

Grace threw open the door to the guest room she and Boyd were sleeping in.

"What is going on out here?" Grace said, crowding into the bathroom doorway.

Abby pushed herself away from the countertop and took two shaky steps towards her father. Brendon was stunned. Abby stumbled as she took a third step and lost her footing on the fourth but that was okay because she was in front of her father who scooped her up and, crying, picked her up and hugged her to him.

"Abby! You're walking!" He carried her through to her room. Boyd and Grace followed.

"Merry Christmas, Dad," Abby smiled.

Brendon sobbed into his daughter's head. He was so happy. Abby was healing. She was really and truly healing. She was walking. Sure it was only a few steps but still, she was walking.

"Abby, I'm so proud of you. I'm so proud of how hard you've been working for this. I'm so happy for you. This is the best gift I could ever have hoped for."

Abby hugged her dad. She was proud of herself, too. She had worked really hard at getting back on her feet. Especially when she thought she might not have walked again ever.

"Two Christmases in a row you have done something that's just made the day that much more special," Brendon smiled down at her.

"Well. You know. I try," she smiled.