Chapter Two: Not a Leg to Stand On
"Well, I have to run now, Smolder. Take care! Get well soon!"
Smolder grunted and nodded. Who even was that? Did they go to school together? Maybe they were on the squad, or in Professor Fluttershy’s class. That was napping time, so at least then she’d be forgiven. The entirety of that (possibly) pony’s visit had been spent looking out the window, anyway. When leaves blowing in the trees are more interesting than you are... maybe you should spread out the visits. Like come back next week. Or next never.
No, that wasn't fair. Smolder sighed and glanced at the door just as the tail of the visiting pony (that much was clear. Only pony tails were so ridiculously fluffy) flicked out of sight. A foreleg appeared in the doorway, light brown in color, and waved before gently shutting the door.
As the latch clicked—deafening in this suffocating room—Smolder glanced over at her tray table. It was covered in cards and well-wishes from friends, professors, and other students. The purple one looked new. Maybe that was the one the recent visitor had brought in. It took her a solid minute to reach over and grab it without feeling like she was about to day, and opening it did little to numb the pain in her lower back. The card read like all the others: sappy, poetic garbage to make the sentiment 'Sorry about this' seem fresh and meaningful. Maybe it was meaningful in the pony’s eyes, but Smolder couldn't tell the differences between the cards that meant what they said and what cards had been bought last second from a shop and dropped at her bedside more out of expectation than feelings of the heart.
The name at the bottom did nothing to narrow the suspects down. "Cedar Breeze," Smolder read aloud, sniffing at the air of her room. Unfortunately, she found only the familiar throat-burning stench of disinfectant and the stomach-churning sludgy scent of hospital food. "At least she could have brought a candle," Smolder muttered, placing the card back among the others. They all bled together like a lifeless sea of processed trees. Could it be possible to drown in paper? If they kept sending her cards at this rate, she figured she'd know by the end of the week.
Even leaning her head back against the pillows and arching her neck as much as she could without setting off the fire in her spine provided little solace. Her range of motion in her neck improved day after day, but with each passing day and each knock on the door, it became more and more impossible to crane her head back enough to avoid the balloons and flowers and other displays of pity.
It had gotten to the point where she spent most of her time either staring at the window or at the lifeless lumps under the sheets. But it seemed today looking at her legs was just triggering memories. And with those memories, came the pains. Her jerkwad brain didn't give her the nice smell of grass or the ghost of a breeze on her face. No, the craphead just decided to zap her spine over and over with a poker until she had a splitting headache and felt like throwing up lava. Maybe that'd burn all these cards and get her moved out of this stupid room.
Sighing and swallowing the bolts creeping up her neck, Smolder leaned back and closed her eyes. It was that dead zone of time that always crept by like a sloth-form Ocellus trying to give her side of a debate in speech class. Breakfast—the typical hospital mush of oatmeal and water—had been delivered devoured around an hour before. Then Nurse Redheart had come in and made sure Smolder's sheets were still clean and that nothing needed changing, followed by the usual switching of the IV bags and the pills—some they’d let her drink with water, while others… yeah, she’d just let that be their problem—and of course, there was the always-pleasant changing of her catheter tube. Summed up, a bunch of boring crap.
At least Dr. Stable had skipped over his usual visit to poke at her legs or hit her knee with a hammer or something. He usually followed it up with the usual junk about 'promising' results, but as far as Smolder could tell her legs were as dead as they'd been the week before, and the week before that, and the week before that. She knew the spiel by heart at this point: 'You’re a week or two from being able to begin your physical therapy regimen. We’ll start practicing some stretches and transitions. That'll really promote some signals and nerves and keep your muscles and ligaments healthy.' It all sounded good, but that was it. Sounded good. Laying on this bed, it was hard not to sink. The stretches were just another half-hour to shove her useless legs into the forefront of her mind. And what was the point of getting in the chair if they wouldn’t even let her move the dumb thing?
Yeah, within this 10 to 12 dead zone, the only option she had to keep herself occupied was a nap. No doubt a restless sleep populated by nightmares of her friends' faces as she was wheeled into the hospital awaited her on the other side. Probably some heavy breathing and cold sweats. Fun times.
Just as Smolder screwed her eyes tight and braced herself for the terrors, a knock sounded at the door. Gentle but purposeful. Smolder glanced up, grumbling in response. A moment later, a familiar white unicorn peered through the door, a sophisticated smile on her well-kept muzzle.
"Smolder, dear. Mind if I come in?" Rarity asked.
Smolder smiled, and this one was actually somewhat natural. "Sure, Professor. Have a seat." She gestured to the chair beside the bed, though it wasn't really a gesture. More like a tilt of the head and a grimace, followed by a wiggle of her arm.
Rarity stepped in and sat down, giving Smolder a warm smile. "Dear, how many times do I have to tell you? Outside of school, it's simply Rarity."
"Sorry, Prof... Rarity." Smolder chuckled. "Gonna have to forgive me. That one's gonna take a while."
"And you have no need to rush," Rarity quipped, patting Smolder's bed as she stood and glanced at the walls and counters. "My, my. It's quite the collection you've amassed."
"What can I say?" Smolder said. "Most dragons hoard gems. I guess my treasure's gonna be paper and latex."
Rarity let out a soft sigh but smiled nonetheless. "The thoughts are no doubt as valuable as any gems."
Smolder shrugged. She always wondered if Rarity had these phrases planned or made them up on the spot. It wasn’t important, but when your world is pale green walls and headaches, even the unimportant questions held weight. "I guess," she murmured.
"But," Rarity continued as she placed her saddlebags on the chair and lit her horn, "that doesn't mean that some gems would not be welcome." Dainty blue tendrils of magic undid the buckle to her bag and lifted out two long ropes adorned with jewels of every color of the rainbow. "Okay, dear. Your choice: topaz or sapphires? I made sure to pick only the colors that would match the wall." She frowned, glancing over at a display of blue and yellow flowers in a vase that Roseluck had brought in a day ago. Or maybe Lilly had brought them in a week ago. They were still alive, so Smolder guessed it didn’t matter. "Though I fear those irises may throw a bit off the palate balance."
Smolder tapped her chin with a claw, humming loud enough to disguise the growl of her stomach. "Do I get to eat the leftovers?"
Rarity scoffed, but couldn't hide her smile. "My, my. How rude, Smolder. I put my heart and soul into these and all you want is to snack away?"
Smolder laughed. "Hey, if they're good you can add chef to your list of things you're awesome at."
"Flattery will get you nowhere, young dragon," Rarity said. "But, I suppose I'll let it slide." She gave Smolder a wink, and Smolder smiled. But, as it always seemed when anyone entered Smolder's room, Rarity's smile turned serious as her eyes drifted to the foot of Smolder's bed for just a moment. Smolder bit her lip as Rarity took a breath. "However... have the doctors okayed you for eating something so tough on the stomach?"
Smolder shrugged. "I dunno. They haven't said much about that stuff. Probably something Nurse Redheart would know. Doubt it'd kill me either way. Might actually give me some strength for a change. No way this oatmeal’s giving me enough calories."
"Hmm, well," Rarity said, holding up a rope of gems aloft. "I'll hold on to the 'leftovers' if you will, just in case. I want you to choose which one you'd like me to hang up. Give the room a little bit of sparkle, if you will."
"That or you want to torture me by making me hungry all the time." Smolder laughed before waving a claw. "Nah, it's cool. Um... let's see..." She leaned back against the pillows as she stared at each line of gems. When she looked at the topaz, her mind seemed to fill with the light of the sun, her friends' faces filling her mind as they enjoyed a picnic near the castle lake. The sapphire seemed to drip down her neck and pool in her heart. She looked over at her older brother, Garble, and growled as he threw another yellow sapphire at her head.
'Gonna cry, Moldy,' his voice taunted.
'Nah,' she replied. 'Just gonna shove it up your butt.'
She chuckled as the vision faded with Garble letting out a far-too-high-pitched shriek as he flew around the cave, Smolder right on his tucked tail. She shook her head. "Sapphires. Definitely."
"A very good choice," Rarity said. She levitated the sapphire rope and hung it on the wall over Smolder's bed. The sun's rays bounced off the gems, filling the room with a soft blue and yellow glow as she gently taped it down. "How is that?"
"Good," Smolder said, smiling as the warm light settled over her scales. She sighed and closed her eyes. She could almost feel Garble pulling her in for a noogie. Those were the days. "Thank you, Rarity. They're... pretty cool."
"I'm glad you like them, Smolder," Rarity said. She strolled around the room, picking up a plushie from the nightstand and giving it a once over. "Well, isn't this cute?"
Smolder glanced over at the stuffed whale and the warmth vanished. Some colt named Featherweight had brought it in a few days before. She couldn't stand whales. Never could before, and definitely couldn't now. If he didn't know her, why'd he even bother?
Smolder curled and twisted her bed sheets in her claws as the fire in her gut seemed to refuse to go away. It was just a toy. The thought was what counted. Though how much thought had he really put into it? Clearly, it was somewhere around none percent. She sighed. "Yeah... yeah I guess it is." Rarity wouldn't understand. Heck, Smolder could barely understand what she was thinking herself.
The unicorn glanced over at her, frowning. "Something wrong, dear?"
Smolder opened her mouth but shook her head. "Nothing. Just some pain."
"Oh," Rarity said, nodding and looking at the floor. "I see. Should I get a nurse?"
"No, I think I'm fine. It'll pass." Smolder leaned back and sighed. No way it’d pass when everyone looked at her with those shimmering eyes, but she was ready for a nap and some nightmares. Maybe those would be interesting. "Thanks for stopping by, Rarity. I really do love the sapphires."
Rarity smiled. "You're very welcome, dear." She headed for the door, pausing at the frame and turning back as she looked at all the cards and balloons. "You have a lot of creatures who care about you, Smolder. We're all rooting for you, okay? You've got this, darling." She smiled and gave Smolder a wink. "Kick some butt."
Smolder chuckled. Every once in a while Professor Rarity would let her mask drop just a tad and remind her that she was probably her coolest professor. "Yeah... thanks. I'll try."
Rarity nodded, her smile widening. "Of course, dear. I'll see you soon." She turned and left, nearly bumping into someone or something as she took her first step out into the hall. "Terribly sorry, dear," she said. Before Smolder could hear a response from the creature in question, Rarity leaned back through the door. "Smolder? Gallus is wondering if he can come in. Should I send him away?" There was a twinkle in Rarity's eye, a smirk on her lip. Scales, it was Yona all over again.
Smolder had no doubt her face turned red. The inferno rising in her lungs was enough to prove it. "Yeah sure I guess," she said far too quickly, biting her tongue.
Rarity giggled and stepped aside, dropping her head in an almost-curtsy as Gallus passed by her. The griffon gave Rarity a smile as he slipped inside the room, holding his wing out in a small wave as he glanced around the room with an arched brow. "Uh. Thanks, Professor Rarity." He looked over at Smolder as Rarity began to duck out of the room. He lowered his voice to a whisper, "What's she up to?"
Smolder rolled her eyes. "Matchmaker stuff. You know how it is." She let out a snort and shook her head, a smile coming to her lips as she looked up at her friend. Her best friend. Gallus took a seat on the foot of her bed stretching his wings and crossing his legs as he patted the mattress.
"So," he said, leaning over on his elbow, "how's it going, Legs?"
A dramatic gasp sounded through the wall, followed by a huff as the door to the room opened. Rarity poked her head in, glaring at Gallus. "Gallus Griffon, how could you be so rude?!" she hissed. Gallus let out a squawk, jumping up off the bed, his eyes wide as he spread his wings as if expecting a fight. "You should be ashamed of yourself for referring to dear Smolder in such an offensive manner! Such nicknames are simply not to be tolerated in her condition!"
Gallus blinked and sputtered. "I, uh, ya see, um, I didn’t mean… but uhhh..."
"And eavesdropping's not tolerated in my room in any condition, thank you very much," Smolder said, reaching to and placing a claw on the wide-eyed griffon's wing. "Besides... I kinda like the nickname." She felt her face get warm again.
Poor Gallus glanced down at Smolder with the same wide-eyed look he'd been giving Rarity. He looked more like a cardinal than a griffon as he belched out a string of syllables and glanced between Smolder and Rarity.
Rarity sighed and shook her head, but... Smolder could see her smiling. Oh, you're good... Smolder thought. Rarity nodded to the two. "Well, I suppose it's fine if you are fine with it, Smolder. I'll leave you two alone now." She pointed a hoof at Gallus. "I expect you to be nice to Smolder, Gallus Griffon. I WILL know if you step out of line again."
Gallus nodded frantically. "Yes, Ma'am," he squawked. He gulped and waited for Rarity to shut the door behind her before he looked at Smolder. "You think she's still out there?"
"Probably," Smolder said with a shrug. "But screw her, it's your nickname. I like it."
Gallus blushed as he sat back down on the bed, rubbing the back of his head. "I mean... yeah. It's kinda mean now that I think about it. Just griffon humor, I guess. Dark humor and jabs, ya know. Like the nicknames we’d give each other in Professor Dash’s class back in freshman year. Guess it’s hard to shake that habit."
Smolder shrugged. "Please, it's got nothing on dragons. Garble'd probably be calling me Cripple Pants or something." She snorted. "Which I am, but still."
"Yeah... don't see the wit in that but..." Gallus shrugged, his smile falling away. His eyes drifted over to the foot of her bed before he quickly looked away. "You hear from him yet?"
"No," she said. "Don't expect to. News travels slow in the Dragon Lands. Plus, it's not really a thing there to 'care' for the wounded. Tough it out on your own, or return to magma." She shrugged, trying to keep her tone light and even, but even now she found herself glancing to the window, hoping to see a dark red, scaly jerk screaming across the sky, straight for her room.
"Jeez, and I thought Griffonstone was rough," Gallus said, frowning. With a grunt and flare of his wings, he hopped out of bed and spun, eyeing the balloons, the flowers, the sapphires. He whistled. "Wow," he whispered. "A bit overkill then, huh?"
"Finally, someone gets it," Smolder exclaimed, loosening her claws' grip on the sheets to throw her arms skyward. "I mean, these are cool and all, I guess, but... like, if Apple Bloom brings me one more apple pie, I'm throwing it back in her face. The first one was sweet; the fifth one, now you're just trying to make me fat." She chuckled. "It's just too much. Especially if I don't know who you are."
Gallus chuckled, picking up a card. "Yeah. I can't say I know any 'Frigid Peaks.' He the guy who runs the ice cream shop downtown?"
Smolder shrugged. "Maybe? I couldn't tell you if it was even a pony who dropped that one off. They just kinda rain down all over the damn place."
"Not seeing anything about free ice cream for life, so I'm guessing no dice there. Ah well," Gallus said, tossing the card back on the sink. "They're nice gestures, but after a while, I'm guessing the meaning wears off, huh?"
"Totally," Smolder sighed. "Like, I'm trying to accept... this." She motioned down to her legs. "But all this stuff they keep sending is just reminding me over and over again. It’s, like... I don't know how to put it into words. It's hard to accept any of this when it keeps feeling new each time they bring something in, I guess. Like the scab keeps getting scratched off." Suddenly, Smolder found herself laughing. "Sorry. Heh, I don't know where all that crap came from."
"Nah, I get it," Gallus said. "I must make a good target for your unbridled rage." He put on a fake pout. "And I thought you liked me."
"Oh shut up and get over here where I can punch you." Surprisingly, he did. Smolder giggled and delivered a light punch to his foreleg. "Take that, Featherbrain." She grinned and shook her head, leaning back against the pillows, catching her breath while Gallus looked through more cards. He picked up one off her nightstand. As he lifted it, Smolder caught sight of the purple iris on the cover. Her heart caught in her chest, blocking her from telling him to put it back down.
Gallus frowned as he opened the card. "With Deepest Sympathy. I'm sorry for your loss.'" He smirked and put the card back. "Jeez, I didn't realize someone had died." He continued to read out loud. "I'm... sorry, Smolder. It’s… my fault… can you ever… oh, man... Ocellus..." His voice drifted off
"I guess they don't have 'Sorry I broke your back' cards at the store." Smolder bit her lip, eying the card. The joke fell flat. It wasn't a good one. Ocellus didn't deserve that. "How are they doing?" Smolder asked, chewing on her bottom lip. "Y'know... Ocellus, Yona... I... I don't know how many times I have to tell them it's not their fault before they get it through..." She dug her claws into her temples and let out a long exhale and stared up at Gallus. It was good to just have him here. Fewer tears and all that, but... she'd be lying if she said she wasn't worried about Ocellus and Yona. Yona at least came by with Sandbar every once in a while. Even if the yak was disturbingly quiet, she was still there. Ocellus, though… goodness, she hadn’t even seen the changeling drop it off. It just appeared one day. “How… how is she doing? Ocellus?” Smolder asked.
"She’s alright," Gallus replied as he gently sat the card back down on the night table. "Well as alright as you’d expect.
"So she's not doing alright at all, then."
Gallus sighed. "No. Honestly, I don't think any of us are, really. Like, this crap never happens to creatures like us. Think about it. In the grand scheme of things, we’re basically still kids. Dozens and dozens of awesome years ahead of us, and yet crap like thi—" His voice cut off as he tripped over a balloon. He picked it up, muttering curses and preparing to pop it. He glanced over to Smolder with a familiar devilish smile. How he could switch emotions so quickly, Smolder would never know. "Should I do it?" he asked.
"I dunno. The Balloon Fairy could get pretty pissed."
"Yeah, but you saw what it did."
"It did look at you funny," Smolder said. "So, yeah. Go ahead. Your funeral. The Balloon Fairy doesn't take prisoners."
Gallus' grin spread ear to ear as he raised his razor-sharp talons. "Work on your material, Smolder. Balloon Fairy sounds like something a two-year-old would come up with." He popped the balloon. Smolder winced. Though the door to her room was shut, she could hear the steady clip-clop of hooves on title rushing down the hall. "Great," she mumbled, "You've gone and pissed off the Balloon Fairy."
Gallus’ eyes grew as wide as dinner plates as he stared at the door. "Wait, I thought you were joking."
The door burst open. In stumbled Nurse Redheart, gasping for breath. She looked around the room, her wide eyes narrowing to slits as they glared a hole into Gallus. "What in the name of Celestia are you doing?"
"Heh heh. Nothing," Gallus replied.
Redheart huffed, pushing the loose strands of pink mane back under her nurse's cap. "I thought Smolder had fallen again." Smolder glared at the mare, crossing her arms. Great. Thanks for letting that cat out, Nurse Dumbheart. To be fair, the pony seemed to realize her mistake, eyes growing wide for a second before narrowing again as she glared at Gallus.
"No. Heh, sorry," Gallus rubbed the back of his neck. "There's just so many balloons in here, I guess I just stepped wrong, that's all."
She crossed her hooves. "Well, you need to watch your step then, young man. There are patients on this floor that require rest. That means quiet. Consider this strikes one and two for the day, Mr. Gallus."
"Sorry," he grumbled. He glanced over to Smolder who was doing a terrible job at hiding her grin. "Jeez, I'm not having a popular day with the mares today, huh?" he mumbled.
"Maybe if you'd follow the rules," Redheart grunted before turning her attention to Smolder. It was like an emotional lightbulb: cold scowl to a warm smile. "You're looking good, dear," she said as she checked Smolder's bed, adjusting her pillows and straightening the sheets. She eyed the monitors and IV bags before nodding to herself. "Do you need anything?"
"I'm fine, Nurse Redheart." Smolder stretched her arms. "When's the grub getting here?"
Nurse Redheart rolled her eyes. "Didn't you just eat breakfast?"
"Yeah, and I'm hungry again." Smolder patted her belly. It felt weird, only being able to feel only one of her claws against her stomach. Her left hand patted a little lower, closer to her hips. Right near where her injury was. She heard the tap, felt the jiggle of her scales against the claw, but did not feel the claw itself. "What can I say, I'm a growing girl?"
"Hmm," Redheart replied, a skeptical look on her face. "Just remember, your body needs to adjust. The nerves around your stomach might still be a bit... scrambled if you will. Especially with solid foods. I don't believe you want to have another acc--"
Smolder hit her head against her pillows and groaned. "You made your point, Nurse Redheart." In front of Gallus? Seriously, Nurse? The pony was lucky Smolder's pillows were so comfortable or she'd be on the receiving end of a flying one.
“Sorry, Smolder.” Nurse Redheart’s words rang sincere, but the mare smiled through it, and Smolder found her scowl melting away. For a pony, Redheart had a good sense of humor to her. She seemed to understand how dragons dealt with their emotions, or at least, not be put off by it. She joked and was brutally honest when other nurses would put on that far-too-sugary mask of try-hard kindness.
"If you need anything, let me know," she said. She gave one last stern look to Gallus. "Behave."
"Yes, Ma'am."
With that, Nurse Redheart left the room, closing the door behind her. Gallus let out a breath and sat down in the chair next to Smolder's bed. It rolled a little. The wheelchair. Smolder hated it. It sat near her bed, staring her down, poking and prodding at her gut and stirring up a fire she longed to bathe the curtains near her bed in.
"Well... that was something," Gallus said, quelling the spark just a bit. "She's intense."
Smolder nodded. "Isn't it great?"
"Eh. If you say so." He stared at the window. "When did you fall?"
"Like, last week, I think. Maybe two," Smolder replied. "Remember the belts?"
"Oh yeah," Gallus said with a wince. "I thought you were just... y'know. Freaking out or something. Trying to get up and fly around because you're all badass like that.”
Smolder smiled, but it rang hollow. Her voice shook when she finally spoke, "Yeah. Wish it was that. Woke up. My head was swimming. With all the pain meds they pump through this thing"—she tugged on the IV line running into her arm—"it was hard to feel much of anything, so... I guess I tried to get up. Actually managed to scoot myself to the edge of the bed. Not sure if I was trying to get in the wheelchair or stand up. Either way... I fell. Not too hard, luckily. More just kinda banged my knees a little. Was able to catch myself on the bed and press the button. Doc said I was really lucky I didn't cause any more damage, but still..."
"That sucks. I'm sorry."
Smolder took a deep breath, a familiar sting nipping at her eyes. Yeah. It definitely sucked. Everything sucked. "All that haze, when I realized my legs weren't working it was almost like... like the first time again. Like when it happened." She wiped her nose. "But, eh, that was weeks ago. I'm good now."
Silence permeated Smolder's hospital room. Was she good? She honestly felt like she was fine, yet just thinking about little things like the fall rumbled through her chest and burnt her eyes. She'd been so close to screwing everything up. And what then? As if she had any hope left to lose. She took a deep, quivering breath. There was no way she was going to cry in front of Gallus—or in front of anyone for that matter. She was a tough dragon. Only wimpy ponies got choked up.
An odd whooshing sound rattled through the room. Like a skateboard going back and forth on a vert. Smolder glanced over and saw that Gallus had taken a seat in the wheelchair that always sat by her bed. He was pushing himself back and forth with his paws on the floor, staring down at the tiles with an odd look of focus on his face.
"What are you doing?"
"Testing it out," he replied.
Smolder snickered. "Uh, it's not for sale, dude. I kinda need that thing."
"Ya sure? Have you given this thing a test ride yet?" he asked.
"Nah. They only let me sit in it and exist. Kinda boring"
"It moves pretty good." Gallus pushed himself across the tiles, skidding to a stop in front of Smolder's bed. He looked up at her, flashing her a smirk. "What do ya say we go for a real spin in this bad boy?"
Smolder blinked. "'Scuse me?"
"This room is as stuffy as a donkey's nose on Nightmare Night," he said, standing up and causing the wheelchair to roll into a pile of deflated balloons. "There's no way you're getting any fresh air in this joint. I've been here two minutes and I'm already feeling claustrophobic."
"You're always feeling claustrophobic. That's nothing new."
"Um, rude," Gallus laughed. He rolled the chair back over to the side of Smolder's bed. "Seriously, dude, when was the last time you got out of this room?"
"Does the bathroom count?"
"It's part of this room, so nope. Besides, it looks like you don't exactly go there much anyway." Gallus winced as soon as the statement left his mouth and he looked down, cringing and punching his own foreleg.
Ouch. Smolder could take most of those griffon barbs, but he just had to bring up her... incontinence. Nurse Redheart had always done a good job of keeping her bag and most of the tubes hidden under the sheets, but there was always a part of it sticking out from under the covers, and the liquid... kinda made it obvious, she supposed.
Still, she could take those barbs. No biggie. The look on Gallus' face told her that her thoughts there had not been well-hidden though. He hissed and kicked the ground. Hard. "Sorry, Smolder. That was a bit too far. Way too far. I…"
"You think?" She punched his shoulder lightly. "Nah, it's all good, Featherbutt. Just... yeah, going off that, I guess… yeah, I’ve not left here at all."
Gallus rolled the wheelchair back and forth in his claws. "Then what's the point of having this thing in here if they're not gonna let you use it?"
"To mock me," Smolder grumbled.
Gallus scoffed and shook his head. "Come on, Legs. Let's blow this joint. You just gotta get down in this thing, right? Well, lucky for you, I’ve been lifting." The griffon flexed his forelegs.
"Calling me fat, Birdbrain?" It sounded good, getting out of the room. But, there always seemed to be a catch. She glanced down towards the end of her bed and pursed her lips. "I'd love to, but..." She pointed to the tubes running up between her legs and arms. "Those things kinda make that a little tricky. I can’t just… get down, ya know?"
"Right," Gallus frowned, looking from the wires and tubes to the door, his bangs brushing against a sagging balloon. "Think that Nurse Redheart would be cool with us taking you for a spin around the halls?"
"Not sure," Smolder answered immediately. "She's pretty strict. She's always peeking in, worrying about me. She's better than the other nurses as far as dragon bedside manner goes, but... yeah, she'll probably say something about getting out of bed too soon damaging my spine or something. Like, I'm already paralyzed, lady. How much more damage could I do?” A lot, a voice in her head responded, but she shook it off. “I'm not gonna die from taking a stroll... or, well y'know, a roll."
Gallus shuddered. "Real talk, and this doesn't leave this room, she's kinda scary." Gallus smirked. "Tell anyone, and I'll make you a quadriplegic."
"Heh, good luck with that, Featherbutt. My claws still work. I'm more likely to put you in one of those things than you are to even laying a talon on me."
"Sure, you keep telling yourself that, Legs." Gallus leaned closer to Smolder, beak curling upwards as he narrowed his gaze.
Smolder grinned mischievously "I would, but I couldn't bear to do any harm to those legs." Wait, had she just said that out loud? Her face reddened. Gallus stared blankly, mouth agape. Oh dragonfire, how stupid could she be?
Gallus' feathers and wings bristled. He blushed, beak mouthing... something as he looked away, coughing.
Smolder cleared her throat. Crap, he was hot when he was flustered. She was a medical marvel: able to stick her foot in her mouth while having no use of it. "Look, I'll press the call button but I doubt it'll do any good." She could use some help, though she doubted Nurse Redheart would be the best choice to talk to about that. She could just picture it now:
'What's the problem, Smolder?'
'Oh, you know: crushing over my best friend, screwing up and flirting with him when I can't run away from the situation. You know, the usual.'
Eh, it's not like things could get worse for her today. Smolder pressed the button, leaving the duo to wait in heavy silence for Nurse Redheart. Gallus kept fidgeting with his talons, looking over at her occasionally before quickly looking away and staring back to the floor. Smolder chose to focus on the lumps where she knew her feet were. Maybe the power of the magic of embarrassment and awkward tension could will a toe into moving. It was worth a shot.
She focused. None of her toes moved an inch. Traitors all.
The door opened. Gallus leapt to his feet, sending the wheelchair sliding into the deflated balloons. He winced as the squeak of wheel on latex filled the room. Luckily these were too deflated to pop without a lot of help. "Heh, that was an accident this time, Nurse Redheart," he said, raising his talon near his heart. "Serious as cancer."
"You don't have to always make jokes, Mr. Gallus. And this is certainly not the place for that one," she chided, walking over to Smolder. "Are you okay, Smolder? Do you need anything?"
Smolder rubbed the back of her neck, feeling the stiff muscles. "Well... Gallus and I were talking, and... I wanted to know if we could, uh, take a walk."
"A walk?" Nurse Redheart placed a hoof on her chin, pondering. "Smolder... I'm not sure. You haven't even practiced transferring from your bed to the wheelchair on your own yet. You’re not even close to ready. Why, you’ve not even practiced using a wheelchair."
"I can help her," Gallus chimed in.
"Yeah, and we're not going to be walking around, like, outside or anything." Smolder glanced over to Gallus, who nodded. "Just to the lobby, then back," Smolder said. “Gallus can roll me the whole way.”
"Hmm." Nurse Redheart frowned, tapping her hoof. "Dr. Stable said that your injury is healed enough for minor movement, but after your fall..."
"That was weeks ago!" Smolder threw her arms up. At least this time she expected the bolt shooting up her spine. It made it easier to take. And what pain she couldn't swallow back, she pushed into projecting. "I didn't break anything. I'm not bleeding."
"We have to be careful, Smolder. Transferring out of bed more times than necessary is far from minor movement. All it takes is one slip up, and you're back to square one." Nurse Redheart argued.
Smolder clenched her jaw. This was hopeless. "I AM still at square one," she groused. "Every day, it's just sitting in here, staring at these cards and flowers. The only highlights of my day are eating and when my bedpan gets changed, cause at least then I'm not just laying here." Smolder sighed. "Just a few minutes, Nurse Redheart. We'll go slow."
"Lobby and back. Just a few minutes," Gallus repeated. "We'll stay within shouting distance of a nurse's station at all times."
"Shouting is against hospital rules, Mr. Gallus."
"You know what I meant!"
"Keep your voice down, or I'll escort you out of here myself." Redheart groaned, rubbing her forehead with a hoof. "Okay," she finally hissed through clenched teeth "Lobby and back." She eyed Gallus. "I will be watching."
Gallus gulped. "Yes, Ma'am."
Redheart turned her attention back to Smolder. "I'll need to adjust your bed for this transfer," she said just as much to herself as to the dragon. "And I'll need to remove your..." She turned to Gallus. "Do you mind stepping outside for a moment?"
"Oh, yeah. Totally. Sure." Gallus' head swiveled around the room. "I'll just... grab something from the vending machine. Either of you want anything?"
"No. Thank you, Mr. Gallus."
"I'll take an Amethyst Pop if they have one," Smolder said.
Redheart at Smolder, expression completely unamused. "Cancel that order, Gallus." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "You know that'll go straight through you, dear."
Smolder shrugged. "Plain water's messing with my throat. I need some flavor."
"Smolder...," Redheart scolded. "You're not going to have a pouch or pan with you out there. Heck, I'm still concerned that the sudden movement could move your bowels off schedule and..." Smolder cringed at the words. She appreciated that Redheart didn't beat around the bush, and this was talk she'd have to get used to, but ugh if it didn't sound disgusting, even after several weeks. Nurse Redheart shook her head, straightening out the sheets. "If an accident happens... I promise I'm not trying to be mean here, Smolder. I'm trying to save you from embarrassment, okay?"
"Thanks, Mom," Smolder muttered, crossing her arms and slumping in her bed. The worst part was she had to admit that Redheart was right. "Just get you something good, Gallus. Alright? If I can't taste it, I at least expect the sweet details."
"Gotcha. I'll be back in a bit." He smiled and left the room.
Nurse Redheart closed the door. "He likes you."
Smolder was well past getting shocked at those comments. She guessed dragons were pretty crappy at hiding their emotions. Her scales tended to tell all. "Yeah, he’s my friend," she said matter-of-factly.
"He's a good boy. And he really cares about you. It's very sweet." Nurse Redheart pulled a pair of purple gloves on and rolled the chair up to the bed. "Maybe you should talk to him.
"What, and risk ruining everything?"
Nurse Redheart chuckled. "Don't waste your life waiting, Smolder. Trust me." With a single motion, she moved the curtains into place, separating them from the rest of the world. "Are you sure you're up for this, Smolder?"
"Yeah," she replied, her heart beating a mile a minute. "I have to get out of this room. Physical therapy's, like still a YEAR away."
Nurse Redheart locked the brakes on the wheelchair. "It's just a few weeks."
"It’s been a few weeks away every week since I got here. Might as well be a century." Smolder took a deep breath. "I'd lose my mind before I got there if I was stuck lying here the whole time."
“And you'll need that healthy to push through PT." Redheart placed her hooves on the covers. "Okay, Smolder, are you ready to start?
"Let's get this over with."
She pulled the sheets back, exposing Smolder's body to the world. From the position her hospital bed was raised to, Smolder was forced to stare at her lower half. The gown covered where the tubes ran, thankfully, but that was where the comfort ended. Below the waist, Smolder saw her legs and feet, her belly, everything below her ribs was there. But that's all it was. They were there. Like a doll or a mannequin. They didn't move, they didn't feel. They were just there.
Smolder closed her eyes and turned her head away as best she could as Redheart lifted her gown to remove the catheter. If there was one good thing about having zero feeling below her hips, it was that she didn't have to feel Redheart remove the tube. If she shut them tight enough, it was almost like it wasn't there at all. But, unfortunately, her nose still worked.
Redheart was gentle and swift, as always. She pulled the gown back down. "Okay, Smolder," she said. The two had silently agreed that would be the cue that she could open her eyes again. "Now, I'm going to make this as easy as possible, and just know I'm only asking this to help prevent any accidents--"
Smolder knew exactly where this was going. The fire burned in the part of her gut she could still feel as she gritted her teeth. "Don't even bother asking. I'm not a baby. I’d rather die before wearing a freakin' diaper!" Smolder covered her mouth with her claws before the final syllable had stopped echoing. "Sorry," she whispered behind her claws. "that was not supposed to come out so loud. I'm sorry, Nurse Redheart. It's just... no. This is embarrassing enough, and I haven't drunk anything in a bit so... five minutes. I should be fine for that long, right?"
"I'd assume so. I was just checking. Now, let's sit you up slowly. I'll raise the bed a little more and then we'll scoot you over."
"Gotcha."
"One... two... three... deep breaths... four... let it out..." Redheart counted off, raising the bed slowly. Smolder gritted her teeth. The pain wasn't so bad, but as the world straightened up around her, it got a little shaky. Like waves on the lake, swaying side to side. She grabbed the railing to steady herself, even though she knew she wasn't falling or anything. Or she didn't think so. She swallowed a burning bile down her throat as the ceiling moved in and out, in and out.
"How are you doing, Smolder?" Redheart asked.
Smolder gulped. "Just... a bit dizzy. Gimme a minute, and I'll be good."
"Okay. Let's just stay here for a moment, okay?" Redheart patted her arm.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"If you need some water, I can grab your cup."
"Not risking it. I like you. I don't want you having to mop up my piss trails."
Redheart let out a snort, covering her mouth with her hoof. "That's... uh, very sweet of you. Thank you." Her laughter was obvious beneath the words.
"Yeah." Smolder leaned forward, pressing her claws into the mattress. Everything was steadying out now. The floor was less ocean and more, well, floor. The room quit its merry-go-round imitation. She took a deep breath, pushing out all the air in her lungs. "Okay... I think I'm ready."
"Are you sure?"
"We dragons prefer to just rip the band-aid off," she hissed through gritted teeth.
"Okay then." Redheart double-checked that the brakes on the wheelchair were locked. Then, she reached out "Alright. Let's get you to the edge." She reached under Smolder's legs, lifting near her shins and rotating her to the edge of the bed. Thankfully, Redheart’s grip kept her from looking down too much. If she saw her legs just swaying all useless... well, it still hadn't gotten easier seeing that.
"So this is it," Smolder said, voice shaking."
“Yes, dear,” Redheart said as she patted Smolder's legs. Smolder still wasn't used to the lack of feeling when someone touched them. She doubted she ever would. "I’d give you a pep talk and some instructions, but I know you. You're going to take this all head-on."
Smolder nodded. Her fingers twitched against the sheets. It was like counting the seconds to get out for Hearth's Warming Break. Just get it over with already so I can have some fun.
Redheart replied. "Now, when you're doing this yourself, I'd recommend sitting sideways. That way, when you swing your legs around, they'll be able to reach the footrests and provide some support for moving your hips and torso. This time, we'll just do this the old-fashioned way." Redheart raised up on her hind legs, placing her forelegs on the mattress and leaning forward. "Okay, dear, wrap your arms around my neck."
"Um, okay." Smolder did so, her stomach turning with each move. Her back hurt with each movement, despite the brace still stabilizing her back and the pillows holding her neck still. She hissed and blinked tears from her eyes as she wrapped her arms tightly around the back of Redheart's neck. "Okay. Ready."
"Are you sure?"
"Just do it." Smolder swallowed heavily. "Please."
"Okay." Redheart slowly moved back and wrapped her forelegs under Smolder's thighs. Smolder gritted her teeth. It was a weird sensation, having someone pick her up, yet not being able to feel their touch. Not the heat of their skin. All she could do was hang on and hope for the best.
Smolder closed her eyes. Redheart pivoted and sat her down in the chair. "Here we are."
Smolder opened her eyes. The bed loomed like a mountain over her. She leaned back against the backrest of the chair, her claws moving down and touching the metal rims of the...
She pulled her hands back. It was like an electrical shock. She gripped tightly at the armrests. If she held on there, she could pretend it was just a normal chair. Not anything she needed, not a chair made for someone who couldn't move on their own.
"You did great, Smolder."
"I didn't do anything," the dragon muttered.
"Smolder," Redheart said, pulling the sheets back onto the bed, and then placing a gentle hoof on the dragon's shoulder. "Don't sell yourself short. You did awesome. These are big steps you’re taking, and as I expected with you, you’re taking them quicker than the average pony—and with more determination and success. But remember to just take it a bit at a time. With these things, rushing is still risky." The pony knelt down near her footrests. "Now, let's get your gown tucked in."
"What, why?"
"To protect your modesty," Redheart replied, matter-of-factly. She reached under the bottom of the gown and pulled it down over Smolder's knees. She then smoothed it out, making sure that everything was covered. "Goodness, your tail makes that tricky."
"It's always had a mind of its own. Even more now, I guess."
A knock came at the door. "Am I cool?" Gallus asked.
"No, you're a dork," Smolder replied.
Redheart rolled her eyes at the snickering Smolder. "You may come in, Gallus."
The griffon pushed the door open. "No 'Mr.' this time? Man, I was starting to like the title. Mr. Gallus. Made me feel important." He walked in. He froze, his eyes widening. He stared.
Smolder squirmed. Karma had hit her once again. Now she was the dork. "Uh, Gallus?"
"Hm?" he asked, shaking his head.
"You, um... okay, dude?
"Oh, yeah." He coughed and scratched the back of his neck. "It's just... it's the first time I've seen you in a..." He shook his head. "Nice wheels. Lookin’ good, Scalebutt."
"Thanks," Smolder chuckled, her cheeks reddening. "So, uh, I guess... are you gonna wheel me or what?"
"Wait, you’re ready now?” Gallus looked at Redheart, then Smolder. “You don't need, like, a blanket or anything?"
"It's not cold," Smolder laughed.
"Can you tell?" Smolder could see Gallus kicking himself the moment the comment left his mouth. He rubbed one foreleg with the other as she giggled.
"I'm good to go."
"Okay." Gallus walked around out of her sight. The chair lurched forward as he took hold of the handles. Smolder jumped a little, gripping the armrests like a hatching worried about falling off a cliff.
"You good?" he asked.
"Always."
Gallus clicked his tongue. The chair rocked forward and back in a few light, short rolls as the griffon took a deep breath. "Well... here goes nothing."
"Gallus, remember--" Redheart began.
"Stay within shouting distance. Yes, Ma'am," Gallus finished. "Five minutes. To the lobby and back."
Redheart nodded. "That's right. Ten minutes. To the lobby and back."
Gallus blinked. Smolder could barely move her neck without her spine screaming out in pain, but she could turn just enough to see the coy smile on the nurse's muzzle.
"Roger that, Ma'am" Gallus saluted, smirking. He took hold of the wheelchair handles. "So, Legs, you ready to get out of this cell?"
"Ready as I'll ever be, Featherbutt."
"Great," he laughed. "Let's get this show on the road."
"Remember. Fifteen minutes," Redheart said.
Gallus leaned down as he pushed the chair forward. "She's doing this on purpose, right? What's her game?"
"No clue," Smolder answered, though the heat in her face rose as she spoke. Scales, Redheart really was doing this to her. What a dweeb. "Let's still aim for five anyway, okay?”
"Deal. We're going to be the best rule-breakers there are. True pros like us get in trouble for coming back too early! We're on a level beyond these ponies."
Smolder grinned and shook her head. The wheelchair rolled to a stop at the door.
"Care to do the honors, My Lady," Gallus said. She could see his shadow bow against the doorframe. She took a deep breath. She let the tears brim just a little bit this time before she wiped them away as though they'd never existed. At long last, she was free from this cage.
"Gladly." Smolder reached out, her claws gripping the handle and turning it. The door swung open, the lights of the hallway blaring in. Smolder flinched. The lights were bright, blinding. And when they cleared...
The fire exit door across from her room might have just been the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen in her entire life.