Walker stepped into the house to find it silent. It had been silent a lot lately. Everyone was constantly walking on eggshells for fear of hurting Zac.
"Diana!" he called, taking off his coat and hanging it over the back of a chair.
"I'm in the den."
He walked to the den and stood in the doorway, looking at his wife, who was braiding his daughter's hair.
"How was Zac today?" Walker asked.
"Tay went in to see him." Diana finished braiding Avery's hair, kissed her head and motioned for her to leave them alone.
"How did that go?" Walker moved to the couch and collapsed onto it, groaning at the pain in his back.
"He's in his room. He hasn't come out since. I think it's still just a shock for the kids. Walker, this will all be over soon, right? Zac will get better?" Diana asked, looking hopeful.
"Well, the doctors are all looking into it, but, until Zac starts to co-operate… there's not a lot that can be done."
"He's in so much pain, I hear him crying all the time. I went to check on him today, and bruises are still appearing. Walker, what can we do?"
"Has he come out by himself yet?"
"No. I think that's what Taylor was trying to get him to do."
"I'll go see him. He needs to have a bath to relax his muscles anyway. If you want to run it for him, I'll bring him into the bathroom."
"Ok."
* * *
Zac was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, willing his legs to move when his father opened the door.
"Zac, you gotta have a bath, ok? Your mom's running it now," Walker said, in a way of greeting.
"Whatever." Zac went back to staring at his legs.
"Zac, you need it for your muscles."
"Yeah, yeah, I know."
Walker approached his bed carefully, and lifted his son up and taking him to the bathroom down the hall.
"I remember that being a little easier," he joked weakly, sitting Zac down on the stool, which sat next to the bath.
Zac didn't smile. He glared at the new handrails that now adorned the bathroom. They'd appeared several days after that night, and even now, after all these weeks, he still hated seeing them. They were just a constant reminder of his disability.
"I'll just get the… the chair," Walker said, hurrying out of the room and returning seconds later with Zac's wheelchair.
"Whoopee," Zac muttered under his breath.
"Do you need help, sweetie?" Diana asked, smoothing down his hair.
"No… I'm alright… I want to do this myself."
"Are you sure?" she replied, a concerned look flashing in her eyes.
"Yep."
"We'll be right outside, ok, son?" Walker and Diana left, closing the door behind them.
Zac began the task of undressing, and when he was finally done, he slowly eased into the bath, the way he'd taught himself, just by using his arms.
* * *
"Tay?" Walker knocked on his door, hearing no answer, he ventured in. His second eldest son sat at his desk, writing furiously, while his eldest, Isaac, sat on his own bed and strummed his guitar. Isaac looked up when he heard the door open, and smiled at him.
"What are you doing, guys?" he asked, moving to Taylor's bed and sitting on the edge of it.
"Just writing. Dad?" Taylor turned suddenly to face his father.
"Yes?"
"Is Zac… I mean, will Zac… will he always be like that?"
"Like what?" Walker furrowed his brows in confusion.
"You know… sick, like he is now."
Walker frowned. "I'm going to level with you Taylor, you too Isaac, because I think you guys are old enough to hear this. Zac is facing a possibility of living like this. Everyone is looking for a solution, anything that will help him, but right now, there is a strong possibility that he will stay like this."
Isaac put down his guitar. "So, what happens if he stays like this?"
"Well, we'll have to make a few changes. Handrails, ramps, stuff like that."
"He won't like that," Isaac said, picking up his guitar again and mindlessly strumming it.
"Unfortunately, this isn't up to him. If he doesn't start responding to treatment… then there's not a lot that we can do," Walker replied, sighing heavily, as though to emphasise the seriousness of Zac's condition.
"I went in to see him today, and he didn't want me there. He was nice about it though… could that be a sign?" Taylor asked.
"I don't know, honestly. He's up and down all the time… the doctors say it's post traumatic stress. He's in the bath now, but after it, we're gonna make him come out and have dinner with us, and then even watch some TV with us."
"Is… is it alright to force him?" Isaac asked, looking concerned.
"I think it's about time that we did force him," Walker replied. "Look, your mom's going to start cooking now, so I'm going to go help."
My Hanfic
- Aimster's Stories
- Inca's Stories
Links