BEYOND

CHAPTER 3: SILENT SCREAMS

*PAXTON'S POV*

March 13, 2020.

The most important was that he was alive, and now, we had to focus on moving forward.

That was what froze me as I arrived at his side and brought my fist forward.

"Hey, little bro."

Something wasn't right. It hit me when Asher's hand didn't in our usual fist bump, as strong as the silence when it should have been a curse word in reply to his nickname.

Though nothing could be as violent as his gaze finding mine as he lifted a slate with his other hand.

'I can't talk. I can't move this side.'

Those were the words written on the white slate while his eyes were screaming a thousand more.

"It's what I've been trying to explain." The doctor appeared beside us, but even when I glanced at him, I could still hear the distress in Asher's green eyes. "There is a brain lesion on the right, and the information isn't transmitted to the muscles on the opposite part, meaning his left side is paralyzed in what we call hemiplegia."

Hemiplegia, that word sounded even more deafening, and as it struck me like a bang, I let my arm fall back down, my eyes stopping on the details I hadn't seen before: the abnormal angle his fingers were contracted in, the pull at the left corner of his mouth hidden between two swollen bruises, and the shakes of his other hand as he tried to write more, but the splint around his shoulder was limiting his movements, and he only dropped the pen.

"Is that why he can't talk too?" I asked, picking up his pen and giving him back, even if I already guessed what he was about to write with the first letter A.

"No, that, it's because the paramedics tore a part of his trachea while intubating him."

"What?!" Asher not being able to shout, it was my voice that rose.

"It happens, more often than you think in the rush," Doctor Sanders replied with a sigh, and I was sure I caught his eyes rolling up slightly, although he quickly stopped it with a professional nod. "The important was to save his life, and it's what they did.

"As I've already explained to your brother, we have prostheses for this too. Once he's better, surgery is possible, and the loss of voice won't be definitive. The hemiplegia can evolve too, in fact."

He was a specialist, so he knew what he was talking about, didn't he? At least, I held on to that and to his words, even if he didn't have the best to speak to my brother.

"With some physiotherapy and patience, it can come back. We have lots of people of 50 and more who find themselves hemiplegic after a stroke, and they manage to recover most of their capacity over time. The brain is resourceful, and you're young and athletic, so you have even more possibilities."

—Was, Asher cut off with his pen and slate, and his glare was sharp enough to add the rest as he looked at his right leg. 'Now I'm a vegetable with a missing member.'

"You still are. All those years of practice don't go away that fast in your muscles and brain, and it's a strength. I know it's a lot right now—"

We didn't get to hear his 'but', if there was one, as this time, his pager interrupted him for an emergency.

"Sorry. I have to go. I'll let you talk, and if you have questions, ask Rosa here. I'll come back later. But remember, the most important for now is to rest." He looked between Asher and me, walking away after I gave him a nod, and Asher, the same deadly blank gaze.