Michael Clifford Imagines/Preferences

Paralyzed

You were sitting in the car, waiting for them to bring Michael out to you, only unlike all the other people coming out to their cars in wheelchairs, you had bought Michael's chair, and he was keeping it. It had been a few days since the car accident, you couldn't believe it when you got the call. As his emergency contact, you were the first one they called, and so you were the first one to show up at the hospital. You stood outside his room as a nurse explained everything to you. He was coming home from a club, sober, but that didn't matter, because he was hit by another drunk driver.

When you put Michael in the car you could tell he was frustrated. Who could blame him? You decided to take him out to lunch at his favorite local spot to celebrate him being released from the hospital. You took him out of the car and helped him into his chair. He was still getting used to everything, so you pushed his chair into the restaurant. It was pretty quiet so the two of you were happy to sit wherever you pleased.

As you sat down at a table together you tried to make conversation with Michael since he was being so quiet, "so, I'm thinking maybe we stop by the Sally's later and pick up some hair dye?"

He looked at you and rolled his eyes, "stop trying to make this casual."

You frowned, "I was just trying to talk to my boyfriend."

Just then, a server walked up to the two of you, "can I get you both some drinks?"

Michael smiled politely, "thank you, but um, can I just have a moment to talk to my girlfriend? I'm sorry."

The woman smiled and walked away, "Sure, I completely understand."

He turned to you again, "let's just talk about the giant elephant in the room, okay? I can't use my legs, I had a complete spinal injury and I'm paralyzed from the waist down okay?"

You held his hand, "I know, but that doesn't change anything sweetheart."

He pulled his hand away and looked at you angrily, "it changes everything! I can't move my legs, I'm dependent now, and not in a good way! I-it's not fair..."

You looked down at your reflection in your spoon, what were you supposed to say to him? You had no idea how he felt. You didn't have to tell him anything though, because he just needed to keep talking.

"y/n, it's not fair. I made sure to never drive when I'd been drinking, I always called one of the guys, or a cab, or a fucking uber for fuck's sake. I was always careful and because some asshole didn't think things through, I'm the one who suffers for it! You know that dick only broke his arm? That's it! He fucks up and he still gets to walk away! I'm left here and I am struggling!"

You both were crying a little and so you held his hand again, "Michael, I know it's not fair, and this sucks, but you can't change what happened. I know you Mikey, you hate feeling bad about yourself, you're thinking about something else, tell me what."

He wiped away his tears and looked at you, "I hate feeling this way. And I can't believe this happens to people all the time. I can't believe people die because other people decide to drive when they're not fit to. I'm not angry that I can't move my legs, I'm angry because there are other people who can't move theirs. I'm angry because there are people who die because of this!"

You leaned on the table and kissed Michael, "so change things Michael, you say you want to change the world, this is your chance, and I believe in you."

He smiled, "I will, I'll change things. When I'm with you, I don't feel like there's anything wrong with me."

You held up a spoon for him to look at himself, "does anything look wrong in that reflection?"

He laughed and put your hand down, "no, nothing looks wrong."

You grabbed his other hand and grinned, "that's because there is absolutely nothing wrong with you."