December: Chapter 10
Title: December
Prompt: Loss of Limb Function
Medium: Fic
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Adam has endured a massive brain hemorrhage and has lost sensation and function in the left side of his body - arm, leg, face, everywhere. But his friends are there to help him through the difficult time.
"So, Adam's home now?" Kris asked Katy over breakfast. Jesse was back in school and Kaleb was hanging out with Tyler. "How did that happen so fast? Last I heard, he was gonna be hospitalized for up to six months."
"I know," Katy nodded around a mouth full of eggs. She swallowed and continued, "It's only been, what? Less than three weeks? That's pretty amazing."
"Yeah. Do we know where he's staying yet? Is his mom coming to help him, or what?" Kris wondered.
"I think so. If he needed to, he could stay with us," Katy offered.
Kris reached out and covered her hand with his own. This was why he loved his wife. They already had two kids - one from foster care with a list of heavy issues, and another with a physical disability and medical concerns - but Katy was willing to open their doors to Adam, if he needed a place to come.
"I'll ask," Kris decided. "Just in case he gets sick of having his mom and dad help him out all the time."
--
Adam barely made his way up the front steps into his house when he came across the staircase. He wanted to collapse, and sleep for days. But that wasn't an option. His dad was behind him like a gentle drill-sergant, reminding him to alternate feet as he went up.
So, Adam concentrated, annoyed by the sheen of sweat that formed at the simple effort.
"Now, you've got PT coming in the morning, right? And OT in the afternoon? I'll take your guest bedroom and your mom and I can trade off."
"You don't have to," Adam urged, feeling exhausted and completely defeated. What kind of 30-year-old needed his parents to stay with him overnight.
"We do have to," Eber responded. "I know you want your independence, and I'm gonna do my damndest to make sure you have it. But right now, it's just too risky." He didn't mention the obvious, because Adam knew it, and the last thing Eber wanted was for Adam to feel condescended to.
The last thing Eber wanted was to admit just how scared he was by this whole mess. His son would be on anti-seizure medication for the next year. That meant he couldn't drive. He could barely keep his balance to walk across the room, and had to be talked into staying awake long enough to eat something. All of it hurt Eber's heart.
That, and the fact that Adam felt so diminished by this.
--
As annoying as it was to have his mom, dad - or God-forbid, his brother - around all the time, Adam had to admit, it felt damn good to be home. Even if he had to do stupid shit like practice writing, read the paper, and do confusing sequencing exercises, he would rather be doing them at home, than at the hospital.
When he wasn't sleeping, or working his ass off, he was bored. He wanted to see friends, but didn't know if they wanted to see him. He knew he was different. All it took was one glance in the mirror to prove that.
Kris and Katy were busy with Jesse and Kaleb, Joan was back in Texas, Allison was busy with career stuff and so was Alisan. Tyler had been a little distant.
He was busy stewing about it all, when his phone rang. He couldn't trust the vibration feature now, just in case he sat on it with his numb side.
"Yeah?" he asked, not even bothering to try and read the tiny print in the display window.
"Adam?" Kris asked.
"Hey. How are you?"
"How are you?" Kris shot back. "Want some company? I can come over. We can hang out."
"What about Katy and the kids?" Adam asked. He didn't want to be the one to take Kris away from his family.
"They're fine," he assured. "Katy's taking them shopping or something. Probably better I'm not there for that, since I don't care what they wear, as long as it isn't dirty or full of holes."
"Come over if you want...but you don't have to," Adam assured.
"Of course, I want to," Kris shot back, laughing. "See ya in a bit."
--
Little did Adam know, Kris wasn't coming empty-handed. He wasn't sure if Adam was supposed to drink now, and guessed not, so he brought over soda and ingredients and a pan for the best homemade macaroni casserole that Kris had ever eaten. It had tri-colored pasta, and lots of real cheese, and cream cheese, and garlic. Adam had better love it. And if he didn't, Kris would bring it home for Katy and the boys.
"Knock, knock," Kris called, opening the door and inviting himself in.
"Hey, Kris," are you moving in, or what?" Eber joked.
“Nah, just temporary.” Kris managed from behind grocery bags, piled high with ingredients, a DVD, and get well soon cards from every member of his immediate family.
“If something comes up, call,” Eber encouraged, patting Kris on the shoulder.
“I can hear you!” Kris heard Adam shout from the living room. “I can totally hear you! I may be half-paralyzed, but I’m not deaf!”
“He’s a little moody,” Eber whispered, on his way out the door.
Kris laughed, and made his way up the stairs, spotting Adam in the living room, resting on the couch, an old Seinfeld rerun on TV.
“I didn’t know you watched Seinfeld…” Kris observed.
“I don’t. It’s just on. I was bored as hell, waiting for you,” Adam complained, because he could.
Therapy earlier that day had been hell. Not so much the physical stuff. That made him feel empowered. It was the occupational stuff that still had him coming away feeling like a total slow-ass loser. How the hell was anybody supposed to figure out which picture came first in a sequence when the damn artist couldn’t even draw? Adam hadn’t even known what the pictures were. And then, of course, there was the matter of holding the pencil, with the ugly blue grip around it, and trying to make his useless hand wake up and do something.
It was tiring, and it was discouraging. And Adam was pissed off. All he really wanted to do was sleep, but that was officially off the agenda, because now Kris was here to baby-sit and cook dinner, like Giada DeLaurentis or some crap.
“Here,” Kris called, tossing some papers onto his lap.
“What’s this?” Adam asked.
“Cards,” Kris called. “From my family.”
Adam didn’t know how he did it, but Kris always managed to cheer him up. As much as he despised being helpless and not being able to do one damn thing for himself, he loved reading the well-wishes from people. But especially from the people he actually knew and loved. The people he could be pissy with and who wouldn’t hold it against him.
As far as Adam knew the press was well-aware of what happened, but so far, nobody had tried to contact him. And if they did, the calls were intercepted. He liked the cards from fans. It was nice to know so many people cared. He just liked these cards better.
“What’s this blue blob?” Adam asked, scrutinizing Kaleb’s card. He was just grateful for one that he wouldn’t have to read.
“Elmo’s friend, Rosita,” Kris responded, busy boiling water for his pasta.
“What?” Adam asked, cracking a smile.
Kris stuck his head through the window between the kitchen and the living room. “It’s Elmo’s friend, Rosita!” he repeated, laughing.
Shaking his head, Adam focused on the next in the stack, which looked to be from Jesse. It was on white construction paper, and colored with magic markers. Adam had no trouble reading this one, either:
Get Wil son
“We’re still working on spelling. Sorry,” Kris apologized, glancing up in time to see Adam reading a card from Jesse.
But Adam just grinned. It made perfect sense to him.
He flipped it open awkwardly with his right hand/ Inside was a picture of a house with flowers growing in the yard. One cloud was raining, but beside it was a lopsided heart, and the words, Love, Jesse.
“No, I love it!” Adam called back, thoroughly cheered up. He would have to remember to give the boys a call sometime and tell them how much he liked their artwork.
Last, he read the card from Kris and Katy, which he felt proud for being able to decipher. It talked about how if he needed anything while he was recovering, he should just press this red button. And there was a picture of a red button. Then, it said that it worked the same was as the hospital. That no one ever came.
Adam guffawed. Only Kris and Katy could get away with giving him a card like this. Because they had been there in the hospital. And they knew that was exactly what it was like.
--
Over the next while, Adam’s house was filled with amazing smells, and he forgot all about being irritated that Kris was here to look after him. Kris could come every damn night of his life, even after he recovered, if he would cook like this.
Garlic and cheese and other smells all merged in the air, making Adam’s stomach growl, for the first time in a while. He really hadn’t been hungry, if he was honest. He was too depressed. But not tonight.
When the buzzer on the oven rang, Kris set everything up at the table and walked out easily to see if Adam needed a hand.
It was the first time Kris really got a good look at Adam tonight, and he seemed better. His hair was brushed over the scar, but at least it didn’t have the ten million staples that it had the first time Kris saw it. Adam looked tired, but also sort of happy, and that was definitely progress in the right direction.
Kris patiently held Adam’s arm while he slowly made his way to the kitchen and sat down.
“Thanks,” Adam said easily, because Kris hadn’t made him feel ridiculous about needing help. It was just matter-of-fact.
“No problem,” Kris shrugged.
They sat down to eat, and Kris tried not to watch as Adam struggled to use his fork.
Kris hadn’t really thought about it, but it was either use his numb hand, or his non-dominant hand. And Kris looked on, impressed, as Adam made a point to use the hand with all the damage. He bit his tongue every time he wanted to offer to help. Adam looked determined, and Kris wasn’t about to deny him that.
Once they were done, and Adam was so satisfied he announced that he wanted Kris to come over and cook every week, Kris cleaned up, while Adam handed him things off the table.
“So, how are you doing?” Kris asked, while he loaded plates and pans into the dishwasher.
“All right, I guess, just so frustrated. I hate being hovered over and needing people, but I kind of…I don’t know…I guess I do need them, and it pisses me off.”
“Not forever, though,” Kris offered optimistically.
“Oh, hell no. It better not be forever,” Adam threatened to no one. “It’s like, I’m improving…but it’s so slow that there’s hardly anything to show.”
“Yeah, there is,” Kris objected. “You’re here. You can walk, and talk and do all these things that the nurses and doctors thought would take so much longer. They didn’t even think you’d be able to use that arm at all, and look at you. It hasn’t even been a month.”
“It feels like a lifetime,” Adam confessed.
“I know,” Kris murmured softly.
Adam sighed. “Sorry, I’m so negative. It just sucks.”
“Don’t apologize,” Kris waved him off, scrubbing out the empty sink. “It does suck, but we’re gonna be here for you.”
“You’d better be,” Adam said quietly. He didn’t want to be alone in this new body. In this new life.
“I am,” Kris said certainly, and Adam sighed, relieved.
Prompt: Loss of Limb Function
Medium: Fic
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Adam has endured a massive brain hemorrhage and has lost sensation and function in the left side of his body - arm, leg, face, everywhere. But his friends are there to help him through the difficult time.
"So, Adam's home now?" Kris asked Katy over breakfast. Jesse was back in school and Kaleb was hanging out with Tyler. "How did that happen so fast? Last I heard, he was gonna be hospitalized for up to six months."
"I know," Katy nodded around a mouth full of eggs. She swallowed and continued, "It's only been, what? Less than three weeks? That's pretty amazing."
"Yeah. Do we know where he's staying yet? Is his mom coming to help him, or what?" Kris wondered.
"I think so. If he needed to, he could stay with us," Katy offered.
Kris reached out and covered her hand with his own. This was why he loved his wife. They already had two kids - one from foster care with a list of heavy issues, and another with a physical disability and medical concerns - but Katy was willing to open their doors to Adam, if he needed a place to come.
"I'll ask," Kris decided. "Just in case he gets sick of having his mom and dad help him out all the time."
--
Adam barely made his way up the front steps into his house when he came across the staircase. He wanted to collapse, and sleep for days. But that wasn't an option. His dad was behind him like a gentle drill-sergant, reminding him to alternate feet as he went up.
So, Adam concentrated, annoyed by the sheen of sweat that formed at the simple effort.
"Now, you've got PT coming in the morning, right? And OT in the afternoon? I'll take your guest bedroom and your mom and I can trade off."
"You don't have to," Adam urged, feeling exhausted and completely defeated. What kind of 30-year-old needed his parents to stay with him overnight.
"We do have to," Eber responded. "I know you want your independence, and I'm gonna do my damndest to make sure you have it. But right now, it's just too risky." He didn't mention the obvious, because Adam knew it, and the last thing Eber wanted was for Adam to feel condescended to.
The last thing Eber wanted was to admit just how scared he was by this whole mess. His son would be on anti-seizure medication for the next year. That meant he couldn't drive. He could barely keep his balance to walk across the room, and had to be talked into staying awake long enough to eat something. All of it hurt Eber's heart.
That, and the fact that Adam felt so diminished by this.
--
As annoying as it was to have his mom, dad - or God-forbid, his brother - around all the time, Adam had to admit, it felt damn good to be home. Even if he had to do stupid shit like practice writing, read the paper, and do confusing sequencing exercises, he would rather be doing them at home, than at the hospital.
When he wasn't sleeping, or working his ass off, he was bored. He wanted to see friends, but didn't know if they wanted to see him. He knew he was different. All it took was one glance in the mirror to prove that.
Kris and Katy were busy with Jesse and Kaleb, Joan was back in Texas, Allison was busy with career stuff and so was Alisan. Tyler had been a little distant.
He was busy stewing about it all, when his phone rang. He couldn't trust the vibration feature now, just in case he sat on it with his numb side.
"Yeah?" he asked, not even bothering to try and read the tiny print in the display window.
"Adam?" Kris asked.
"Hey. How are you?"
"How are you?" Kris shot back. "Want some company? I can come over. We can hang out."
"What about Katy and the kids?" Adam asked. He didn't want to be the one to take Kris away from his family.
"They're fine," he assured. "Katy's taking them shopping or something. Probably better I'm not there for that, since I don't care what they wear, as long as it isn't dirty or full of holes."
"Come over if you want...but you don't have to," Adam assured.
"Of course, I want to," Kris shot back, laughing. "See ya in a bit."
--
Little did Adam know, Kris wasn't coming empty-handed. He wasn't sure if Adam was supposed to drink now, and guessed not, so he brought over soda and ingredients and a pan for the best homemade macaroni casserole that Kris had ever eaten. It had tri-colored pasta, and lots of real cheese, and cream cheese, and garlic. Adam had better love it. And if he didn't, Kris would bring it home for Katy and the boys.
"Knock, knock," Kris called, opening the door and inviting himself in.
"Hey, Kris," are you moving in, or what?" Eber joked.
“Nah, just temporary.” Kris managed from behind grocery bags, piled high with ingredients, a DVD, and get well soon cards from every member of his immediate family.
“If something comes up, call,” Eber encouraged, patting Kris on the shoulder.
“I can hear you!” Kris heard Adam shout from the living room. “I can totally hear you! I may be half-paralyzed, but I’m not deaf!”
“He’s a little moody,” Eber whispered, on his way out the door.
Kris laughed, and made his way up the stairs, spotting Adam in the living room, resting on the couch, an old Seinfeld rerun on TV.
“I didn’t know you watched Seinfeld…” Kris observed.
“I don’t. It’s just on. I was bored as hell, waiting for you,” Adam complained, because he could.
Therapy earlier that day had been hell. Not so much the physical stuff. That made him feel empowered. It was the occupational stuff that still had him coming away feeling like a total slow-ass loser. How the hell was anybody supposed to figure out which picture came first in a sequence when the damn artist couldn’t even draw? Adam hadn’t even known what the pictures were. And then, of course, there was the matter of holding the pencil, with the ugly blue grip around it, and trying to make his useless hand wake up and do something.
It was tiring, and it was discouraging. And Adam was pissed off. All he really wanted to do was sleep, but that was officially off the agenda, because now Kris was here to baby-sit and cook dinner, like Giada DeLaurentis or some crap.
“Here,” Kris called, tossing some papers onto his lap.
“What’s this?” Adam asked.
“Cards,” Kris called. “From my family.”
Adam didn’t know how he did it, but Kris always managed to cheer him up. As much as he despised being helpless and not being able to do one damn thing for himself, he loved reading the well-wishes from people. But especially from the people he actually knew and loved. The people he could be pissy with and who wouldn’t hold it against him.
As far as Adam knew the press was well-aware of what happened, but so far, nobody had tried to contact him. And if they did, the calls were intercepted. He liked the cards from fans. It was nice to know so many people cared. He just liked these cards better.
“What’s this blue blob?” Adam asked, scrutinizing Kaleb’s card. He was just grateful for one that he wouldn’t have to read.
“Elmo’s friend, Rosita,” Kris responded, busy boiling water for his pasta.
“What?” Adam asked, cracking a smile.
Kris stuck his head through the window between the kitchen and the living room. “It’s Elmo’s friend, Rosita!” he repeated, laughing.
Shaking his head, Adam focused on the next in the stack, which looked to be from Jesse. It was on white construction paper, and colored with magic markers. Adam had no trouble reading this one, either:
Get Wil son
“We’re still working on spelling. Sorry,” Kris apologized, glancing up in time to see Adam reading a card from Jesse.
But Adam just grinned. It made perfect sense to him.
He flipped it open awkwardly with his right hand/ Inside was a picture of a house with flowers growing in the yard. One cloud was raining, but beside it was a lopsided heart, and the words, Love, Jesse.
“No, I love it!” Adam called back, thoroughly cheered up. He would have to remember to give the boys a call sometime and tell them how much he liked their artwork.
Last, he read the card from Kris and Katy, which he felt proud for being able to decipher. It talked about how if he needed anything while he was recovering, he should just press this red button. And there was a picture of a red button. Then, it said that it worked the same was as the hospital. That no one ever came.
Adam guffawed. Only Kris and Katy could get away with giving him a card like this. Because they had been there in the hospital. And they knew that was exactly what it was like.
--
Over the next while, Adam’s house was filled with amazing smells, and he forgot all about being irritated that Kris was here to look after him. Kris could come every damn night of his life, even after he recovered, if he would cook like this.
Garlic and cheese and other smells all merged in the air, making Adam’s stomach growl, for the first time in a while. He really hadn’t been hungry, if he was honest. He was too depressed. But not tonight.
When the buzzer on the oven rang, Kris set everything up at the table and walked out easily to see if Adam needed a hand.
It was the first time Kris really got a good look at Adam tonight, and he seemed better. His hair was brushed over the scar, but at least it didn’t have the ten million staples that it had the first time Kris saw it. Adam looked tired, but also sort of happy, and that was definitely progress in the right direction.
Kris patiently held Adam’s arm while he slowly made his way to the kitchen and sat down.
“Thanks,” Adam said easily, because Kris hadn’t made him feel ridiculous about needing help. It was just matter-of-fact.
“No problem,” Kris shrugged.
They sat down to eat, and Kris tried not to watch as Adam struggled to use his fork.
Kris hadn’t really thought about it, but it was either use his numb hand, or his non-dominant hand. And Kris looked on, impressed, as Adam made a point to use the hand with all the damage. He bit his tongue every time he wanted to offer to help. Adam looked determined, and Kris wasn’t about to deny him that.
Once they were done, and Adam was so satisfied he announced that he wanted Kris to come over and cook every week, Kris cleaned up, while Adam handed him things off the table.
“So, how are you doing?” Kris asked, while he loaded plates and pans into the dishwasher.
“All right, I guess, just so frustrated. I hate being hovered over and needing people, but I kind of…I don’t know…I guess I do need them, and it pisses me off.”
“Not forever, though,” Kris offered optimistically.
“Oh, hell no. It better not be forever,” Adam threatened to no one. “It’s like, I’m improving…but it’s so slow that there’s hardly anything to show.”
“Yeah, there is,” Kris objected. “You’re here. You can walk, and talk and do all these things that the nurses and doctors thought would take so much longer. They didn’t even think you’d be able to use that arm at all, and look at you. It hasn’t even been a month.”
“It feels like a lifetime,” Adam confessed.
“I know,” Kris murmured softly.
Adam sighed. “Sorry, I’m so negative. It just sucks.”
“Don’t apologize,” Kris waved him off, scrubbing out the empty sink. “It does suck, but we’re gonna be here for you.”
“You’d better be,” Adam said quietly. He didn’t want to be alone in this new body. In this new life.
“I am,” Kris said certainly, and Adam sighed, relieved.