While You Were Gone, Chapter 14
A/N: Thanks to everyone who continues to follow, fave, and review! Over 300 follows and 200 favorites?! I'm feeling very special. :)
Sorry for another late update - at least the chapter is really long? Sadly, the next update will probably take another two weeks - I'll be travelling again soon and won't have access to a computer for most of it. :(
"I'm sorry," Kim the nurse tells Tadashi while she removes the tape that secures his feeding tube to his nose and face. "I don't think we're going to be able to send you to rehab after all."
He raises his eyebrows, waiting for her to tell him why. The last two days all anyone has talked about is his upcoming transfer to the rehabilitation unit. I want that tube out before you go to rehab and we're transferring you over to rehab as soon as there's an opening and you're going to work your butt off in rehab.
"We've got to keep you around because your aunt brings in the best thank you goodies," the nurse continues, struggling to get a piece of tape off her gloves and into the trash. Right - Aunt Cass said something about cupcakes. Where does she even find time to do that kind of thing? It definitely makes the nurses happy - Kim is grinning even as she has to pull off her sticky glove in exchange for a new one. "We can just make you do all your rehab right here, right?"
"Sure," Tadashi agrees with a smile, sort of wishing that he really could just do rehab on the unit. He already knows most of the people here, and just as important: they know him. The idea of going to a new place with new people is unsettling. It's kind of like being a kid starting at a brand new school, except this time it's not eight hours of math and reading and trying to make friends - it's a twenty-four seven experience of new people assessing and helping and looking...all because he made a stupid mistake, because Professor Callaghan…
It's done, he reminds himself. Focus on now. Rehab's a good thing.
"I guess we can let you go; they'll be good for you," the nurse brings him back. She pinches the feeding tube where it hangs out of his nose. "Ready?"
It doesn't really matter if he's ready or not - nobody is waiting for anything around here. Pulling out his feeding tube and long-term IV. Rehab. Getting him used to the idea of all of it. The nurse tugs out the tube hand over hand, reassuring him as he tries not to gag that it's almost out - almost!
"There! That's better!" she holds up the tube for a moment, then drops it into the trash before helping him get a drink of water. "No going back now."
Cass trudges up all the stairs to the boys' bedroom, prepared for another scavenger hunt. This time the hospital wants clothes. "Rehab's going to make him shower and get dressed every single day," the nurse has said. "Pack like he's training for the Olympics: lots of t-shirts and sweats."
So Cass checks the dresser and, well, the first drawer she opens is obviously Hiro's. It's full of a conglomeration of unpaired socks and rumpled pants and nothing is folded. She yanks open another drawer and success! At least one nephew has taken the time to put his laundry away properly.
She hunts out shorts and pajamas and is about ready to call Tadashi and ask where the heck he's stashed his sweatpants - he owns some, right? - when she comes across a stack of clothes that's just crammed into another drawer, t-shirts and dark jeans and a nubbly cardigan all piled together with socks and underwear sandwiched in the middle.
Cass sits on the floor and stares at them for a moment. She knows this pile. These are the clothes she found in the dryer about three months ago, when she finally decided she needed to do laundry again.
She eventually draws out a t-shirt, holding it up and inspecting it front and back. It's one of Tadashi's favorites: the collar is starting to fray just a little, and the Ninjas logo on the front is slightly faded.
The tears on it aren't visible, but Cass wonders if she should wash them out anyway.
GoGo stares down at Honey Lemon's latest creation. Bubbly pink letters spell out Work hard - we believe in you! across a length of paper. She's left the glittered atrocity out for people to add to and sign, so there are plenty of fresh get well messages and happy faces and illegible signatures. Someone (Fred? Hiro?) has drawn little cartoon figures of their group of friends. Cute.
She picks up a pen, debating over what to write. Maybe it's the rebellious kid in her, but she finds herself adding Tadashi to the picture. Man, she can't draw to save her life. How do you even draw a baseball cap? Sorry you look like crap, she writes and then - ugh! What if that dork takes it literally? the picture. not in real life. Too much? She scribbles it all out, then searches through Honey's pile of pens and markers for correction tape. There is none. Whatever.
"Nice," Hiro comments, turning up out of nowhere to assess her drawing. He chooses a pen and draws Baymax into the picture (the art style is Hiro's), then starts adding captions (Tadashi: Baymax, I need you! Baymax: What seems to be the trouble? Tadashi: I was stupid. Baymax: Sorry, I cannot assist you with that.).
"Why didn't you draw him?" GoGo asks, gesturing to the picture.
Hiro looks up. "What are you, my psychologist?"
"Just wondering." GoGo shrugs.
"I drew it like we were all saying hi to him or something," Hiro answers. He plays around with his pen, adding little details: more spots on Honey Lemon's dress, a better hat for his brother. "Why'd you add him in?"
GoGo shrugs again, tucking her hands into her jacket pockets. "I just wanted him in the picture."
Hiro sits cross-legged on the bed in Tadashi's new room, watching as Honey Lemon hangs up all the get well cards and signs from his old room. It's a nice room: it's bigger, for one thing, and there's a large window that faces outside. It's some bizarre cross between a hospital and a hotel room: there are support bars in the bathroom and the bed has side rails, but there's a desk and a table with chairs too.
He draws a pillow under his arms: it crinkles because there's a plastic liner under the pillowcase. He presses his chin into it anyway. He's so sick of the hospital. They'll bring Tadashi here tomorrow morning, but they don't know how long he'll have to stay. All Aunt Cass promises is that the next place he goes after this is home.
"I want to get ramen with everyone," Hiro announces, letting the pillow squish against his knees.
Honey Lemon looks over at him from where she's sticking her new banner to the wall. She pats down another piece of tape and seems to consider his request for a moment. "I'm not sure what Wasabi and GoGo are doing tonight, but we can check. Maybe we can meet them over by school later."
"Okay," Hiro agrees, but Honey doesn't really get it. He looks at the picture he and GoGo drew on the banner, feeling the pillow squish against his knees as he lets his chin sink in further. He means he wants to get ramen with Tadashi. He wants his brother in the picture too.
"They tried to make me go to rehab, but I said, no, no, no!"
"I'm pretty sure that song refers to a different kind of rehab," Tadashi comments, glancing up at Fred as his friend sings. It's strange going to rehab - going anywhere. Until now, his only trip outside his hospital room has been to surgery. He's never even seen the place, even if Hiro and Aunt Cass have. Aunt Cass says he's lucky to stay at the same hospital - his burn unit's program extends to rehab, they know what they're doing, they're the nicest people…
"I talked with Sara - she'll be your new primary - and they'll get you settled in and then you can have a shower," says the nurse pushing the wheelchair. Tadashi glances up at her. They've been going over this plan since last night: the only things they've had him do so far this morning are take pills and eat breakfast. Apparently rehab gets to do everything else.
They reach the glass doors to the unit and he wants to tell them hold my room! Just in case. He's torn - he's so, so ready to leave this place, but it's...safe.
Everyone keeps walking though, through the doors and down the hallway and to a skybridge: it's suddenly warm and bright, in a nice way, and outside Tadashi can see trees and buildings and cars and life. The room he's just left doesn't have a window facing outside.
It's out there.
Everything is out there.
"Wait a second," Tadashi says when they get to the windows, and so all four of them stop: Cass, Fred, and the nurse pushing Tadashi's wheelchair.
"Is something wrong?" Cass asks, resting a hand on her nephew's shoulder.
Tadashi shakes his head slightly, staring out at a slice of the city through the huge panel of glass. "No. It's just been so long since I've seen it."
Maybe it's the way he says it, or the way he continues to look even when they all start walking again, or the sigh Cass notices when they reach the normal hallways again - but her heart just hurts. He belongs out there.
She pats his shoulder a little, leaning down so she can make sure he hears. "The new room has a really good window."
Aunt Cass is right - the new room does have a good window. The room overall is nicer: bigger and sunnier, less clinical. Someone has already taped up a new get well poster from the lab, and his computer and other things seem fairly at home.
"So you're the Tadashi Hamada we've been hearing so much about," says the new nurse - Sara, right? She gives him a long look. "I hear we're pretty lucky to have you."
"Yup, he's that Tadashi Hamada," Fred agrees confidently before Tadashi can ask what exactly they mean by that. His friend heads for the door, walking backwards. "I'm going to take off. Don't have too much fun without me."
Fun doesn't quite describe what that first day is like.
It involves discussions between him and the nurses and Aunt Cass, and then more discussions and assessments with therapists. A tour of his room and the rehab gym and the lounge. Introductions to nurses and aides and other people's therapists - several of whom also know him as that Tadashi Hamada. Stretches with Ken, who apparently works on both units. And a shower.
Tadashi can't count the number of times he's wished for a shower during the past weeks of bed baths. "It's going to be a project," the rehab nurse warns him while she removes the bandages from him right arm and hand. "It will probably feel good though."
She's right: it is a project. When he has a bath in bed, they take care of his body a little at a time. They might uncover just one arm, washing and creaming and massaging the scars before covering it up again and moving on to the next part. For the shower, the nurse and his occupational therapist have to roll off his socks and sleeve all at once, until he's stuck in the shower chair with a towel. He stares down at his chest, which is a mess of blotchy scars and scaly red grafts, then down at the long red rectangles on his thighs where they harvested skin. It's strange seeing it all at once. Nothing looks normal.
The shower isn't the refreshing experience he's been longing for. Instead the shower chair is hard and the water and soap sting and his skin feels like a too tight sweater as he tries to reach his sides and back. The only redeeming factor is finally getting his hair washed, but it's hard to keep his left arm up long enough to lather the shampoo, and he can't get his right hand to his scalp at all - the skin over his shoulder won't stretch that far.
"It's okay," the nurse tells him as she rinses out the last of the shampoo. She puts away the shower sprayer and presses a towel around his shoulders. "You'll be washing your hair by yourself soon enough."
"Arms," she says a little later and he lifts both, carefully shoving them through the sleeves of the t-shirt she's holding out. She pulls the shirt over his head, then lets him try to tug it down. "Better?"
He glances down at the T-shirt. It's one of his own, and the smell of the detergent clinging to it is familiar. There's something about having his own clothes back that makes him feel a little more like himself. "Yeah," he agrees.
When Aunt Cass comes back in the afternoon, she says something about not wanting to cry all over this shirt again.
Hiro hurries to Tadashi's new room, Baymax's case in tow. Maybe rehab is a good thing: yes, it's still in the hospital, but the new room is big enough.
It's perfect, actually. In rehab Tadashi is supposed to learn how to do all the things he needs to do at home, and Baymax can definitely help with that stuff. Maybe if the doctors and nurses can see Baymax in action, they'll let Tadashi leave sooner. Besides, Tadashi listens to his doctors and nurses, even when he doesn't like what they tell him. If they tell him to depend on Baymax, he will.
Tadashi is doing hand stretches with one of the therapists when Hiro arrives. They've taken off his special gloves in order to do the exercises, and his hands and forearms are red and scarred.
"Just a little longer," the therapist is saying while she holds Tadashi's fingers in a fist around a stress ball. Hiro glances to his brother's face - it's obviously hurting him. Shouldn't she stop if it hurts that much?
"It's okay, Hiro," Tadashi grates, letting out a sigh of relief when the therapist slowly releases his hand.
Hiro nods numbly, not really sure if there's a way for him to make this better. He remembers his mission and points to the red case. "Look who I brought!" Maybe he doesn't know how to fix Tadashi, but Baymax will. He gets ready to hit the button to release the balloony robot, but Tadashi almost tries to reach over from his chair to stop him.
"No!" he cuts in forcefully, but he sounds more concerned than upset. What's wrong with him? He shakes his head. "I'm not really sure what will happen when he scans me."
"We can just find out." Hiro shrugs. Baymax can process a lot of information all at once. He glances towards the therapist. "Besides, if we activate him now, he can learn to help you with your hands."
Tadashi explains Baymax to the confused therapist and then gives Hiro a skeptical look. "Wait until we're finished, just in case."
Twenty minutes of excruciating exercises later and Tadashi hesitantly agrees to let Hiro press the button. Baymax inflates and Hiro's not quite sure why, but he gives Tadashi the usual Hello, I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion spiel before scanning him. No Hello, Tadashi. Does Baymax not recognize Tadashi? He should, right?
And then Hiro's really, really not sure what happens, because the scan seems to take forever, and eventually Baymax displays the results on his screen, but the data keeps changing over and over again.
"Terminate scan," Tadashi orders tiredly. He waves the robot closer and Baymax squeaks over.
"I am sorry," Baymax apologizes. He stands in front of Tadashi, still displaying the most recent scan data. "The majority of your data is out of range. It may take me some time to complete an accurate scan. With your permission, I will try again."
"Sorry, buddy. I'm pretty out of range right now," Tadashi shakes his head. He looks at Hiro and rubs at his face with one scarred hand. "Can we do this later? It's probably going to take a long time."
"Okay," Hiro agrees, but only because it seems to be stressing Tadashi out. It's not like Baymax has jammed - he's still trying to finish. He watches as Tadashi argues with Baymax that he's satisfied with his care for now, he has doctors and nurses to help, they'll try again later.
"Sorry," Tadashi says when Baymax is packed in his case again. He rubs his forehead again. "It's been a really long day again."
"Make sure Saturday isn't a long day," Hiro instructs him. Maybe he says it a little grumpily, but Tadashi's long days are seriously putting a damper on all the things Hiro thinks will make him happier.
Tadashi gives him a smile, a real one this time. He lets his chin rest on his hand. "What's so important about Saturday?"
"Like I'm going to tell you," Hiro responds, figuring he can get away with making his brother wait. "You should be excited though."
Honey sits with Hiro and Fred in the back of Wasabi's van with a container of brownies on her lap. This evening they're having a party: Hiro might call it everyone visiting at the same time, but they're bringing pizza and dessert and yes, it's definitely a party!
"You look so good!" Honey exclaims when she sees Tadashi. Rehab must be so, so good for him: he's actually sitting up and wearing his own clothes, and he looks better rested than he has in awhile. "Have you been able to sleep more?"
"I crash at night," Tadashi reveals, and he seems genuinely happy about being exhausted enough to collapse into bed at the end of the day. He tells them that during the last few days they've been trying to get him on a schedule that will get him ready to be at home: no interruptions at night, fewer naps, and hours of stretches and exercises. He relaxes back a little. "It's actually lot better than I thought it would be."
Honey is about ready to go and kiss a bunch of rehab people thank-you for making her friend so happy, but Hiro interrupts that he's hungry - can't they please get to the actual surprise?
"We brought your favorite!" Fred exclaims, brandishing a pizza box. There's a fair amount of chaos as food is distributed, and Honey kind of wonders if they're going to get into trouble for being noisy, but things really do seem more relaxed on rehab.
"I miffed this tho muth," Tadashi sighs around a mouthful of pizza. He chews for a long time before finally swallowing. "I think this is the best day in a really long time."
"We have to record it! Foto!" Honey orders. They crowd against each other, so close that Honey can feel Wasabi's pizza breath in her hair and Hiro's shoulder bumping against her own. She stretches her arm out, trying to get the camera far enough way. "Ready, set, chizu!"
Hiro peers down at Honey's phone, looking at the photo she's just taken. GoGo and Honey Lemon look pretty normal, but half of Wasabi's head hasn't made it into the frame and Fred has his eyes half-closed...as usual. He himself looks kind of like an overly excited chipmunk, in contrast to Tadashi's consigned smile.
It's perfect.
It really has been a good day. It takes a long time to eat the pizza, and having all of his friends present at the same time is actually kind of taxing, but the normalcy of it all feels better than Tadashi ever would have predicted. He tells everyone good-bye and then relaxes back in his chair, debating whether or not to call the nurse and ask for help getting ready for bed or to take a break first.
His eyes drop to Baymax's case and he considers it for a moment. He hasn't made another attempt with the robot yet. To be completely honest, he doesn't really want to do it at all, but Hiro is going to keep asking and maybe tonight's a good time to do it.
It really is a good trial run, he tells himself. Nothing like being a guinea pig for your own work...although he really thought the duct tape abrasions and occasional cold and school-induced sleep deprivation provided plenty of practice.
The scan takes a good three or four minutes. "You appear to have suffered a major burn injury," Baymax eventually reports. Most of the little body on his display lights up.
"That's correct," Tadashi finds himself repeating over and over, confirming the extent and progress of several burns before he starts to get exhausted with it. It's important for Baymax to have the right information, but he doesn't even know himself how every single area of his body is doing. He manages to divert the robot's questioning, but it doesn't actually end.
How would you rate your pain?
You appear to be physically deconditioned. A light exercise program is recommended…
Your nutritional status is compromised. Consider a diet high in protein and complex carbohydrates…
Many individuals who have experienced injuries such as yours have difficulty coping with their physical appearance. Would you allow me to ask a few questions?
"No," Tadashi finally answers. He already has an entire team of people addressing all of these concerns, and rehashing it all with his thesis project seems pointless. He lets his forehead rest on his hand. There's got to be a way to program Baymax to take it easy on people. Manual patient profile entry? Maybe there's a way to download information from the digital charting the nurses do? Ugh, how would he even get permission to do that? Even if he could, it's not like he can work on the coding right this minute.
He lets his eyes slide to Baymax, who is waiting patiently. "I need a break from questions," he tells the robot. It's not his fault that Tadashi's a complicated patient. "Tell me something interesting, buddy."
He thinks Baymax will spew out some random health or body fact: the human eye can distinguish over ten million separate colors or the average American consumes 150 pounds of sugar per year. That's not what he gets.
"I have learned the art of karate!"
A/N: Leave a comment for Tadashi's get well poster! What would you tell that nerd? :)