9 Years earlier

We had gotten another notification a day later. It confirmed that my brother had arrived at the facility and asked us to confirm that we would come on the first visit they had scheduled. Mom sent a message, confirming that two people would come. We had talked to Tommy again, but he was busy and said he would try to make it the following week. There was a heavy silence in our little apartment the two days preceding our visit. Mom didn't talk a lot and neither did I.

When Thursday arrived, Mom and I got up early. Neither of us was hungry, so we didn't eat anything. We made our way to the sky train, which took us to the station of the Inter-City-Express. The trip to New Polis took about an hour and we spent it in silence. Neither of us knew what to expect. "Severely injured" the notification had said. That could mean anything. I had a hard time keeping my breathing steady, when we finally arrived before the huge building with giant letters spelling out:
"Central State Facilities
City of New Polis
Department of Veterans Affairs"

We entered through a large automatic door and I was met by the acrid smell of sterility that I remembered so well from the times we had visited my father in hospital. I was glad I hadn't had anything for breakfast, since I was sure I would have brought it back up now.
We approached the lady, who sat behind a glass wall, titled "Registrations", and Mom handed her the tiny silver metal slip, which contained the confirmation of our visiting schedule. The lady took it without looking at us, scanned it and handed it back. "Twenty-fourth floor" she said, still not looking at us. "Exit elevator to the right, door number two-four-eight!" She handed us back the slip and we turned to the long row of elevators, finding the one with the heading "Floors 20 to 29".
Two-four-eight, Two-four-eight, I silently repeated in my head, over and over again. More so to calm myself down than to remember the door number.

We left the elevator on the according floor and were greeted by a long white corridor, with doors to both sides of it. Turning right, we walked down the corridor until we reached number two-four-eight. I heard mom take a deep breath, before she raised her hands and carefully knocked her knuckles against it.

The door was opened promptly. A short, relatively old nurse, with curly white-blond hair tied back in a knot opened the door and greeted us with a warm smile. Her smiling face felt like a single breath of oxygen in an otherwise toxic atmosphere.
"Are you Mrs. Sully?" she asked, her voice warm and raspy.
My mother nodded. "Yes, I am!".
The nurse took mom's hand in both of hers and squeezed it for a few seconds. "Welcome, sweetheart!" she said "Don't worry! Everything's going to be okay!"
Behind her the long room was white, with elements of a disgusting mint green. There were about ten beds, divided by thin metal walls. A symphony of beeping sounds filled my ears.
"You're lucky!" the nurse said, taking my hand and leading us past the beds. "He just woke up!"
Then she stopped at one of the beds and I turned to look at my brother. He was hooked up to at least three different tubes and machines and he looked pale and sick. "Hi" he said hoarsely and produced and awkward smile, when he saw us. Mom clasped her hand over her mouth again and rushed to the side of the bed. "Hello, honey!" she whispered, producing a pained smile.
"I'm going to give you some privacy now..." the nurse said quietly, smiling warmly at me again and then left us. I slowly walked to the other side of the bed, biting my lower lip and trying my hardest to act normal.
"Hey Jake!" I said as brightly as I could manage and he turned his head towards me. "Hey Am!" he smiled back at me, trying equally hard to sound cheerful. "How's school?" he asked.
"School's good" I said, not really caring whether that was true.
"Great" he said, moving his head in a manner that distantly resembled a nod.
"How are you feeling?" mom said quietly, her expression worried.
"I'm fine" Jake assured her. "Really... I'm okay!" Mom frowned and carefully took his hand, holding it in hers.
"Tommy busy?" Jake asked after a short, but awkward silence. Mom nodded apologetically.
"Thank God" Jake said and laughed. His laugh turned into a cough and for a second I was worried that he would choke. "Don't need another worried face" he finished his sentence and smiled.
"Mrs. Sully?" I heard from behind us and mom and I turned to see a man in a white coat, presumably a doctor.
"Yes?" mom answered.
"My name's Doctor Simmons, would you like to come talk in my office?" He looked up from his clipboard expectantly.
Mom turned to look between Jake and Doctor Simmons and then hesitantly nodded her head.
"We'll be right back!" she smiled, looking back at Jake and we both followed the white coat out of the room and into a small office on the opposite side of the corridor.

"Please have a seat!" the Doctor said, pressed a button and a visual screen appeared, showing a human torso, with the spine highlighted.
"As you've probably been told, you're son was quite severely injured" the Doctor started and pointed his fingers to the highlighted spine on the screen. "His lower thoracic vertebrae have been crushed, severely damaging the spinal cord at that level and consequently paralyzing him."
Mom nodded slowly, trying to understand. "But you can fix that, right?" she asked, looking up at the Doctor hopefully.
The man pursed his lips, then shrugged his shoulders. "Well, we could, technically, yes. However, the government is not going to pay for it and I doubt you'll be able to afford the treatment."
Mom swallowed. She knew we didn't have a chance to pay for any expensive medical treatment. "Why are they not paying for it? He was injured in combat... And he doesn't have any useful job qualifications other than the military... He wouldn't be able to do anything unless..." Mom trailed off, looking at the Doctor incredulously.
"Look M'am" he started with a sigh. "I don't make these decisions. They conduct a cost-benefit-analysis, and I'm afraid for your son the result was negative. It's cheaper for the government to pay for his living expenses than conduct the surgery with uncertain expectations as to whether he would be fully usable for active duty again."
Mom stared at the man incredulously and I had a hard time processing what he had just said.
"But..." mom started, but was cut off.
"I'm really sorry, M'am, but you're talking to the wrong guy! If you think there's been a mistake you can file an application for reconsideration."
Mom shook her head in disbelief. "Does he know?" she said, trying hard to keep her voice steady. The Doctor sighed. "I believe so, M'am!"
Mum pressed her lips together and her forehead creased. Then a bitter laugh escaped her. "Right!" she said and nodded. "Thank you for your time!" She got up, took me by the hand and moved to leave the room.
"Where are going, M'am?" the doctor called after us.
"To see my son!" Mom said with determined defiance.
The doctor slowly shook his head. "I'm afraid you can't, M'am! Visiting time is over!"
"But..." Mom's voice was shaky now. "...I barely had a chance to talk to him!"
"Sorry!" the doctor said insincerely. "You can apply for a new visit and we'll try to schedule it within the next week..." he finished, already turning his attention to the next file on his desk.

We left the large hospital tower as quickly as we could and I didn't dare say a word to my mother until we were back in our apartment two hours later.

"Should I call Tommy?" I asked quietly. Mom shook her head with determination. "I'll do that myself!" she said angrily.
She picked up the phone and pressed the buttons.
"Hello Tom!" she said, making no attempt at concealing her anger.
I couldn't hear what Tommy was saying on the other end, but by my mother's answer I knew he had asked about Jake.
"Well, you'd know if you cared enough to come here!" she said angrily. "It's not like it's that far away, Tom! And don't tell me your busy, we're all busy, Goddamn it!"
Tommy said something and mom laughed bitterly.
"No he didn't, I think he knows you don't care..."
Then she was quiet for a while and I heard Tommy's voice grow louder on the other end.
"His spinal cord is severely damaged." Mom finally said "And they're not going to fix it... The, uh... the cost-benefit-analysis turned out negative."
There was no answer on the other side and Mom continued. "Why don't you let me know when you care enough about your brother to visit, okay?" and with that she hung up.
Then she leaned against the kitchen counter and sobbed quietly.