Author's Note: Listened to Say You Won't Let Go by James Arthur for the last scene.
Sleet stopped at the bathroom doorway. "No." Then he backed up the wheelchair slowly, giving her time to get out of the way, and turned. "The bathroom is a hard line. I feel like an invalid having you help. I know you want to make things easier, but it's too much. I don't…" His cheeks grew red. "I don't feel like I can please you in bed when you're also helping in the bathroom. I'm capable of doing all bathroom needs myself."
Her brow snapped together. "Sleet, I didn't mean to push myself on you. May I sit?" She gestured to his lap to be at eye level.
He gave a pat to his thigh. "You don't have to ask."
So she sat and looped her arms around his neck. "This is exactly how we need to talk. I read in the human books that some spouses are the caregivers, some aren't at all, and others only for some things. "None of this bothers me like that. I could help you in the bathroom and head straight to the bedchamber without missing a beat. I don't ever want you to be self-conscious about asking me for anything. And you need to do exactly this—speak up if I'm doing too much or not enough. I adore you and just want to do whatever will make this easier for you."
That won a smile. "I adore you, too, which is why I want to do as many things on my own as I can. I have full use of my arms, so I need more independence and to feel like I'm carrying equal weight in this relationship. Especially once the baby comes, I don't want you to feel like you're taking care of two infants. Spruce said I don't need to wake up to turn over in bed anymore to avoid bedsores, but I get stiff if I don't. If you happen to be awake and want to help adjust my legs, fine. If you happen to still be in the bedroom when I'm putting on pants in the morning or putting on pajamas at night, I won't object to help getting the pants over my hips. But I don't want you hanging around to do it. I think with everything else, wait for me to ask."
"I'll wait." A small smile pulled.
He rested his forehead to hers and gave a smile before he pecked a kiss on the lips. "I love you," he whispered.
"I love you, too. A—"
A knock at the front door interrupted.
"I'll get the door while you go to the bathroom." She pushed off.
A soft swat hit her bottom.
Spinning in surprise, her mouth fell open with a smile.
"Meet me in the bedchamber when you're done, dewdrop." He winked and disappeared into the bathroom.
Glancing through the peephole that Sleet had made revealed Lord Milori on the other side.
He frowned when she opened it. "I was concerned when Sleet didn't show up at work. He's usually early, and never a half hour late. Is everything alright?"
With a nod, she stepped out and closed the door so Sleet wouldn't be seen in the wheelchair again. "I was helping him in the bathroom and was going to come tell you and the Queen that we need the day off. He's alright, but all of this finally hit him morning."
He sighed and set his hands on his hips. "I wondered how much longer it'd take because no one could handle this grave of an injury like it never happened. He pushes himself at work, and no one knows he has paralysis. I told him that I don't think that's wise, both for his safety and just emotionally having to deal with this while acting like everything is fine. What can I do?"
"Silver!" Sleet called weakly in that tone when his blood pressure would drop.
Dashing away into the washroom, he was pale, shaking, and soaked in sweat trying to get out of the wheelchair to lie down. He balanced precariously on the edge of the chair.
"Lord Milori!"
Milori shot in, as if he'd been waiting to help and lowered Sleet to the ground. "What do you need?"
She straightened Sleet's legs as Lord Milori eased his head down. "His blood pressure goes crazy sometimes. Sleet, did you finish with the bathroom?"
He nodded, looking nauseous and miserable.
"Bob." The cricket hopped over and gave a heart rate that was too high, but slowly falling.
Lord Milori's eyes trailed over the tubes, antiseptics, and other medical equipment. "I didn't realize…. Captain, why are you trying to deal with all of this on your own?" He grabbed a washcloth off the shelf, wet it, and mopped Sleet's brow.
"I don't need coddling," he panted.
"No, you need a good thrashing for being so stubborn," he sighed. "Your color is coming back." When Sleet tried to sit up, he held his shoulders down.
"Is anyone home?" the Queen's voice cut in.
Before anyone could answer, she appeared in the bathroom doorway. "What happened?!" She immediately squeezed in and dropped to her knees to feel Sleet's brow.
"Everyone, go," he begged and turned his head away. Humiliation burned hot in his glow.
She herded everyone out and then knelt. "Promise you won't try to get in your chair yet. I'll send them away."
He nodded and closed his eyes to draw deep breaths like Spruce had taught.
"Bob, get me if he gets worse."
Bob chirped.
So she stepped outside on the porch with Lord Milori and the Queen, leaving the doors open in case Sleet needed help.
"Does he need Spruce?" the Queen pounced.
As she explained his blood pressure trouble, the Queen's expression grew grave and Lord Milori paced on the porch.
"Let me go check on him."
Sleet was sitting up against the tub when she entered, with his head bowed in defeat and shame taking up every inch of his glow around her heart.
"Come. We need to talk about this with them, and I'm not going to do it behind your back like you're incapacitated."
Silence. He simply stared at the ground.
She tugged him away from the tub so he could use his wings.
His glow around her heart grew numb as he settled in the wheelchair.
This wasn't like him to be so subdued and silent. "Where's my fierce dragon?" she whispered and gave a playful nudge while leaning down to meet his eye.
Without replying, he wheeled himself out.
She stared at the empty bathroom doorway. The fact that he went to face them in the wheelchair attested to just how broken he felt.
The Queen and Lord Milori sat on the sofa while Sleet sat in the wheelchair on the other side of the coffee table, likely purposefully not near the other furniture to keep distance from everyone. He spoke quietly, his embarrassment apparent, and wouldn't quite make eye contact with anyone.
"Captain," Lord Milori cut in once she was seated and Sleet started to dive into every reason why he shouldn't lead the Winter Army anymore. "I have no intention of replacing you." He gave a snort of disbelief. "You've been leading five hundred soldiers without any one of them having a clue that you're injured. I had no idea how much you're dealing with, and I knew about your injury. If you don't wish for them to know, I see no reason why they should have to. However, I would suggest that we clue in Snowflake and the Colonel just in case you have another blood pressure episode so there's someone near who knows what's going on and how to help."
Sleet drew his arms on the armrests in closer and his back slouched a fraction of a hair as his emotions around her glow suddenly went blank. He was withdrawing into himself and shutting down, the shame, humiliation, and depression too much for him to bear.
Getting up, she rubbed a hand over her heart and grabbed a kitchen chair. Then she set it beside Sleet and sat. "He's only had trouble with his blood pressure so far when using the washroom. Spruce didn't think that autonomic dysreflexia could happen in fairies, but instead of it being high blood pressure like in humans, it gets too low. He said one more time and there was something he could do that would help bypass that." They didn't need to know that Sleet was likely going to get an indwelling catheter after having an episode again, which was probably another reason why he was shutting down.
She slipped her hand into his, but he didn't even react. He just kept staring at the floor. "There's no reason for anyone else to know if he doesn't want."
The Queen studied him for a moment. "Captain?" No response. "Captain?"
He blinked and looked up.
"You can fly without any issue, correct?"
His eye dropped and he gave a small nod.
"Come fly with me for a bit."
That got his attention. He pitched forward in the chair and followed the Queen outside.
Leaning her elbows on her knees, she buried her face in her hands, so emotionally exhausted. "Every time I think we're making progress, we take ten steps back."
"I'm embarrassed to say how ignorant I've been. I thought it was like spraining an ankle—you can't use it and go to PT; it's inconvenient and frustrating. Obviously, I knew his legs wouldn't get better, but the wheelchair and medical equipment… He's so self-sufficient at work that I forget most of the time that he's paralyzed." He heaved a sigh. "I know it's not the same, but when my wing broke and Clarion and I got back together, we were all over the place trying to get our footing with how to move forward."
She looked up in surprise.
He sat forward with his elbows on his knees and hands clasped together, staring at the coffee table like he was lost in the memories. "I was so afraid of not being enough or unable to protect her or not good enough to be Lord of Winter…I can't tell you how many times Clarion had to reassure me over and over. It took a toll on her, too. It's trying to carry both sides of a relationship for a while because the other is so lost and consumed with the injury. We had fights and tears and it was a mess for a while."
He raised his eyes and looked at her. "You two are already so far ahead of where Clarion and I were, and I had three hundred years in between to get used to my disability. I would think that his injury impacts day-to-day life much more than my wing does for me, but he's hanging on very hard. You're going to get through this and come out so much stronger. I see a difference in your relationship already, and I'm not even around you both that much."
She scooted to the edge of the chair and her wings rose slightly. "You said your 'disability'. He acts like 'wheelchair', 'disability', 'paralyzed', and other words are bad. I've tried explaining that no one thinks any less of him and they aren't bad words. Did you feel like that?"
A smirk and snort answered. "I ripped off anyone's head who used those words for probably the first four hundred years. Just like 'Alamur' is a bad word to him because to most it stands for evil and violence, these other words to him right now symbolize limitations. Not so much in our world because we don't really have disabilities, but in other worlds, there's a negative stigma attached to them in society. You have to remember that he's traveled a lot, and he's been exposed to those negative connotations. For us, I don't think it'd even occur to anyone to look down on him. I've never experienced prejudice. I will say that I have gotten pity sometimes, which I know will set Sleet off. Fairies fear him more than me, so I doubt he'll find fairies daring to pity him too often." He cracked a smile.
She looked out the window.
"I think Clarion is giving him a pep talk. Sometimes it helps to know that your queen isn't going to give you a get-out-of-jail-free card simply because you're disabled. If she isn't going to do it, no one else will." He sat back with a smile.
Blinking at him in confusion, he explained, "If she's not going to pity him or let him get away with anything that no one else will, he'll have more confidence that no one is going to lower their expectations of him. He takes a lot of pride in working hard and providing for his family."
With a nod, she glanced outside again, unable to not worry because his glow seemed so sad.
"Do you resent having a mate who can't do things?" he asked the Queen quietly as they flew at a leisurely pace over the spring fields.
"My mate who is disabled? It's not a curse word." She cracked a smile. "I get frustrated sometimes, but not with him. Like one night I woke up with the flu and needed a basin. If he would've been able to fly me to the bathroom instead of have to carry me around the bed and chair, we wouldn't have had to clean the carpet. But I know he's just as frustrated with his disability. But I've never once resented him for it. He was injured trying to protect me, just like you had to fight the Alamur to protect her and your son. She practically worships you. I think, Captain, that if you had full body paralysis, she'd still think you could hang the moon and stars."
"And then be devastated to learn I can't," he muttered.
She turned to hover and looked at him. "Why do you say that?" Her brow furrowed.
Searching her eyes, the terrible words finally escaped. "I'm an Alamur who has done such horrendous things that now I'm the king of them. Living here, having a wife and a baby, leading an army like I always wanted…well, now the punishment starts for having a life I don't deserve. It's beginning to fall apart, and Silvermist and the baby are the ones who will get hurt the most. What if she was born a siren because she was meant to be my mate and have a terrible life? What if I did that to her?"
Her eyebrows rose. "Sleet, you had no more control over your race or who was born your mate than any of us. I know that she was afraid of being a siren at first, but she doesn't have an evil bone in her. I'm actually shocked that she's obliterated Creatures because she cries if she accidentally squishes a spider." She shuddered. "I love and protect all things, but I'm perfectly happy with not having to meet with the spiders more than twice a year. Do you know what she told me on our trip to the Mainland to visit the sirens? I asked if she was still afraid of being a siren, and she said, 'No. Sleet is proof that "what" doesn't define "who".' And she wasn't the least bit afraid when the sirens were trying to teach her how to drown males or do some other evil things that sirens are capable of. She simply told them, 'I'm not going to learn to do that. I want to learn how not to do it.' When they started to make fun of her, she positively beamed and said, 'My husband loves me because I'm not evil. It's probably best if you stop picking on me because it makes him upset.'"
The Queen had to cover her mouth for a moment to not laugh.
"When they started to poke fun at her for that and asked what would her husband do to sirens, she said, 'He's the king of the Alamur. I don't think I could even imagine what terrible things he'd do to you because he just finished cutting down his own army of almost five hundred Alamur with his Creatures. Creatures are supposed to prey on Alamur, but they're so afraid of him that he keeps them imprisoned and they do what he says.' So, I'd say she's siren just enough to not be terrified of you. She has the talents of a siren, but that's where her siren characteristics end."
The smile on her face faded. "She has a Bright Fairy heart, and she immediately saw in you what has taken the rest of us a very long time to see. When you were on the mission to hunt the Creatures and she thought you were dead, she fell apart."
The Queen looked down at her hands for a moment, as if to compose herself. Then she met his eye. "When a Bright Fairy loses a mate, the grief is too much to survive, so I take some of it from them and put it in the Pixie Tree. I'm connected to the tree, so I feel a portion of their grief. I did that for Silvermist. And then I went back and took some more from her. In my hundreds of years, and even having felt the grief of dozens of fairies at once during the Alamur War, I've never felt that depth of agony from someone that made even me have to go to Milori to strengthen my glow. She almost faded when she thought she'd lost you. I don't even need to ask her to know that this paralysis has strengthened her love for you. I understand that this is incredibly hard, and I admire the grace with which you've handled it. But you don't need to do it alone, but neither do you have to let the entire world know your secret. I got wind of it this morning that Tink knows of your injury, so I had a firm talk with her. She hasn't told anyone else, and it will be kept that way, if you wish. If you want to keep the circle of fairies small who do know your secret, at least lean on us when you need to."
She set her hand on his arm. "We're all brand new to this, right alongside you, so you tell us if you want us to ask before we jump in to help with something or if it's better to just jump in. I know Milori likes it sometimes for me to just do it because then he doesn't feel like a burden having to ask for it. But there are some things where I know it would bother him for me to jump in, so I ask, knowing he's going to turn me down. And he said he knows I'm asking to be sure he doesn't feel like he's being abandoned to struggle on his own. I suspect that Silvermist has already had this talk with you because it's an extremely important one to have with a mate. She is trying so hard to remove any obstacles that could cause your relationship to stumble."
He nodded, releasing a shaky breath. "She has, and she's been more support than I could've asked for. I haven't said anything to her, but I think she's sensing it because my stress is starting to leak out in other ways…I, um, I don't know who to talk to. I hope you do." Embarrassment burned hot. "Who is a good one to talk to about intimacy?"
With a frown, she cocked her head. "Well, I hate to say it, but I need a little more detail. Are you talking about physical intimacy?"
He nodded. "I think the problem is self-image. I'm exactly comfortable with the psychologist."
She wrinkled her nose. "No, he's not a good one for that conversation. Milori and I actually talked to Spruce about it after Milori's injury, and he said self-image for intimacy is a common issue after a disability. I hadn't expected it, but Spruce is actually quite good with the topic and at making it not so embarrassing to ask questions." She bit her lip. "You might want to make an appointment without Silvermist the first time—" When she glanced over his shoulder, he turned.
Silvermist and Milori approached on Blizzard. "We just wanted to make sure everything is alright," he said.
Silvermist flew off and came closer, wringing her hands like she was want to do when nervous. "We'll go back to the house." She backed up, as if uncertain of her welcome.
"Dewdrop." He buzzed close enough for his hair to nearly brush hers as he stroked her lips with his thumb. "No need to fret yourself, sweetheart. I didn't mean to worry you." A genuine smile tugged in response to her blush, and it helped chase some of the Darkness from his heart.
She pecked a shy kiss on his lips and then flew back to Lord Milori.
"Do you want to talk to Milori?" the queen asked.
"If you think he won't mind," he said over his shoulder, watching Silvermist.
She rolled her eyes. "Milori worries worse than an old woman. He's been keeping me up at night with his pacing wondering if he should talk to you about if you need anything or just need someone to talk to who sort of understands having a disability." Then she gave his arm a squeeze. "I'll go talk to Silvermist. She might need a female chat."
Catching her arm as she pulled away to leave, he met her eyes. "Thank you, my queen," he said quietly with a bow of his head.
Turning to face him again, she gave his hand a squeeze. "We're here for you and Silvermist."
Lord Milori came back as Silvermist and the Queen left, their heads already together.
The General grinned. "Well, you can't stand, and I can't fly. Blizzard here isn't so good about hovering for long. Should we find a flower to sit on?"
Holding back a smile, he nodded and followed Lord Milori to a tulip.
Blizzard hovered and Lord Milori slid over the side and landed on the leaf. And started to slip as the leaf bent.
He darted down and grabbed Lord Milori's arm. "Hold on. My wings are strong enough to get us to a thicker leaf." He held Lord Milori's arms and lowered him to another one. Then he eased to a sit himself on the edge.
"Thank you. I'll tell you that even centuries later, you'll still get pissed when you misjudge and suddenly need help because your body doesn't work right to save yourself." Milori sat down on the right.
"How did you keep the queen from seeing you as…"
"Disabled?" He chuckled and leaned his hands on the leaf on each side of his thighs. "It's not something to be ashamed of. I was like you and worked like a dog to not let anyone know for centuries that my wing was broken. Once Clarion and I were back together and everyone saw my wing during that summer freeze, I worked even harder. So when it came to being Clarion's mate, I was hellbound to never let it prevent me from doing anything. Unfortunately, your situation affects you more intensely. At work, I often forget that you're injured. I talked to Silvermist, and it sounds like she sees you as stronger than before."
Then he sighed and looked down at his lap for a moment. "I'll be blunt here since it's just the two of us. I struggled the most with bedroom intimacy for obvious reasons. It took a lot of just going through the motions and eventually having faith that Clarion was being truthful with me that she didn't care about my wing. So, I don't have a magical answer." He turned his head and looked him straight in the eye. "You talk to her. A lot. You tell her that she always has to be honest with you, and then you take her word at face value. You fall apart whenever you need to so you can be strong for her when she needs to fall apart."
His eyebrows rose. "That's exactly what she told me. I didn't quite understand what she meant, though."
A smile pulled. "You have a wise mate. I get the feeling that she's already told you much of what I'd have to say. I talked to Spruce a lot. I mean, almost twice a week, about the intimacy aspect. I'm not going to ask and you don't even have to say anything, but if I'm reading between the lines correctly, you're afraid that with what Spruce has to do after today with the, um, bathroom situation, it's going to be harder for Silvermist to not see you as an invalid."
Rubbing a hand over his face, he heaved a sigh. "It feels like everything is slowly getting worse instead of better health-wise. The Queen mentioned that Spruce is helpful to talk to."
"Yes, it helped very much. If I may be candid, Spruce is very discreet and professional, so I would suggest meeting with Spruce yourself to answer any questions. Silvermist will likely have many questions. I found it helped my self-esteem to be the one to teach Clarion about my health issues myself. Silvermist will likely have questions that you can't answer and didn't think to ask, but being able to answer the brunt of them yourself may help."
"I think that would help," he answered quietly. "If—" Terror suddenly bolted through Silvermist's glow around his heart.
"What?"
"Something's wrong with Silvermist." Without another word, he dove off the edge of the leaf and shot home at Alamur speed.
A hawk tried to claw apart the house. Dust and water pelted the bird, as if the Queen and Silvermist tried to fight from inside."
Smashing through a window, he scooped up both of them and took them to Lord Milori. "Get them out of here!"
"A mouse was trying to run away from it and got inside," the Queen shouted and tried to pry out of Milori's arms.
Lord Milori tossed his sword through the air. "Be careful!"
Catching the hilt, he took off to the house.
"No!" Silvermist cried, but he sped away from her burst of terror.
Sleet sat on the porch the moment she landed at the house seconds later. He dangled the sword from his hand and looked up. It had all happened too fast to feel in his glow if he'd even been hurt.
"Is it gone? Are you alright?" She held her belly and ran up the steps to sit beside him.
"I'm fine." A bandage was wrapped around his forearm. "I got the mouse out and ran off the hawk. There's just the window to fix."
She reached for the bandage. "May I?"
"It's just a scratch, not even bad enough for stitches or healing. I should return Lord Milori's sword. I'll fix the window, and then I'll go see Spruce about…that thing." He kept his gaze forward on the forest.
Carefully linking her arm through his so as not to disturb his cut, she set her other hand on his shoulder. "You want to see him alone." It was more of a statement than question.
"Yes," he whispered. "And we can talk about it when I get home. The hawk shouldn't be back. I built the house to withstand such an attack, so stay inside and be sure to let me feel your fear in your glow. I can be back here in three seconds."
The free hand immediately cupped the baby, an instant flash of fear at being left behind right after an attack.
His glow flickered in response, but he still wouldn't look. "I wouldn't leave you if it wasn't safe. Do you want to stay in the hospital waiting room?"
"Do you not want me there at all? I can stay home."
His hand suddenly slipped in hers and clutched tighter than he ever had. And he still shook. "I've read some human books about indwelling catheters," he spoke so quietly. "It'll change everything even more—making love, having a bag attached all the time, a constant reminder that…"
"Oh, my Sleet, no. It offers a better quality of life. You won't get sick several times a day anymore, and you won't have to run home from work every few hours to use the bathroom. We'll figure out the bedroom. It will be a reminder of what a strong and determined husband I have, nothing other than that. I think if things were reversed, I'd probably feel how you do. But wouldn't you feel how I do? That this injury doesn't diminish what I feel for you?"
His eye flicked to her for an instant, those words giving him pause. "That's different."
"How?"
"It's my job to take care of and protect you."
A soft laugh arose. "Husband, how readily you forget that I'm not a dainty little female. You can fight Alamur; I can fight Creatures." She ran a finger along his jaw. "And tame an Alamur," she smiled. "I can love just as strongly as you."
"That's not what I was implying."
"We're equals in this mating, but I needed you to be strong for me when I was figuring out being a siren. And you need me to be strong for you right now. I know in the next few days that I'm going to see the new catheter and I'm going to fall apart because it's hard seeing you have to go through so much and there's no healing or anything I can do about it. I need to be strong for you today so you can be strong for me tomorrow."
His head turned and that blue eye softened. "That's what you meant when you said that two months ago," he whispered. "I didn't understand." He pulled her up to straddle his lap and crushed her mouth with a hungry kiss. "Make love to me one last time," he breathed between kisses, his glow so sad.
"It won't be the last time, my Sleet," she promised.
"Sweetheart, it'd be good for you to go out with your friends. It's been months since you've gone anywhere besides work," he coaxed a couple nights later.
She curled up tight against him in bed and shook her head. "They go to the club, and I don't feel like going."
"I can't go with you to the club. That doesn't mean you should be stuck at home, too." He rubbed her arm and held her close.
Her glow around his heart was so sad since he taught her about the new catheter. At the same time, her needing to lean on him helped restore some self-confidence to be able to help her work through this. She'd been so strong when he'd come home and fallen apart, and even yesterday when he'd needed help after botching following the instruction sheet.
"I never asked you to go with me. I know it's so crowded that you couldn't fly and would have to use the wheelchair." She curled her leg up to wrap around his, but her knee bumped the tubing taped to his thigh. "I'm sorry, are you alright?" And then she burst into tears. "I know I'm supposed to be all upbeat and… I'm sorry—"
"You don't need to apologize, dewdrop. I want you to talk to me when you're overwhelmed or upset like this." He rubbed over her heart to help chase any Darkness away. "I can tell what you're feeling, sweetheart. I understand why you're sad; I would be, too, if the situation was reversed, like you said. I don't know how to explain it, but it's a comfort to be your rock."
As she softly wept, she suddenly grabbed his far hand and pressed it to her belly. The baby gave light kicks.
"Ah, my boy, mama needs lots of hugs right now." He slid down in bed and rolled her off onto her side. Then he sat up and adjusted his legs before lying down again to hold her and stroke the baby. "I think this will help, dewdrop." He pressed his heart to hers. The storm of emotions eased, but they didn't calm. "Talk to me. You're keeping something bottled up."
Her tears melted into soft hiccups. She pulled back to meet his eyes. "The Queen said don't badger you with questions, that it'll make you embarrassed and de-masculated."
A smile tugged. "Emasculated."
"Can I go ask Spruce my questions tomorrow?" She brushed at her soaked cheeks.
The deep scowl reaction would've sent anyone else running. "No, you're to talk to me, dewdrop." He stroked her hair. "No one else is us. They might give recommendations, but we decide if we follow them. Not talking to each other is not one we follow. Your questions won't emasculate me. I might be embarrassed, but we're doing this together. You're so distressed that I can feel your stomach hurting. I went alone to get this thing because Lord Milori said it helps with self-confidence to feel less helpless by being able to teach you about it and answer your questions. I didn't go alone to erect walls in our communication. Out with your worries, sweetheart."
As her questions pored out, the distress around her glow receded. To be able to take care of her like that spread a warmth of happiness through his chest.
She blinked at him and paused in her question. And she sniffled again, still slowing her water fairy tears.
"Just happy that I can take care of you. Do you need a tissue?" He sat up.
"I can get it." She slid off the bed and it sounded like she stepped in a puddle.
When she stilled and looked down, it suddenly dawned and he leaned over to look at the catheter bag. It had a hole. "Oh Neverland. I'm so sorry. Hold on, I'll get a new one and then come clean you up." Utterly mortified, he started to get up.
But she actually laughed, her heart suddenly lifting. "I guess you mated a water fairy for a reason." Her wrist swirled and the bag stopped dripping. Then her other hand summoned fresh water and she pushed the mess out through the floorboards. Then she turned around, her eyes as bright as her smile. "Alright, I don't have very good control over that." She nodded toward the bag in his hand, her one fist squeezed tight. "Fly with me to the bathroom, and don't let me walk into anything." She held out a hand.
Slowly rising to buzz faster, he took her hand as she slowly backed up through the bedroom toward the door.
"Oh!" she squeaked and twisted her wrist. "That bag isn't going to make it much longer," she giggled.
Instead of embarrassment, a laugh broke free at the situation and a gentle tug to the right guided her around the nightstand. "Pull your wings in tighter."
She did and fit through the doorway, starting to walk backwards faster without jostling at all. "It's fighting me. We aren't going to make it." She bit her lip trying to not laugh.
He snorted a laugh. "Let go of my hand on three, and I'll shoot into the bathroom."
Gliding to the side as he counted, she let go.
A second later, she laughed and came in with the wheelchair. "We did it! I was worried it was going to fight me so much that it'd pop the bag, and then we'd be getting a shower right now." Then she dug in the cupboard for supplies since he was stuck sitting beside the toilet.
And just like that, she made this a laughable teamwork situation.
When she brought over the trash and pulled over his shower chair to sit next to him, a smile broke free.
"Alright, we need four hands this time. You have the dirty and I'll have the clean hands." She simply went about it with a smile like this was an everyday, normal occurrence.
Instinct said this was that moment that would change everything from embarrassment and being an invalid to simply another aspect of daily life that they handled together. There wasn't an inkling in her glow around his heart or in his of nervousness, sadness, embarrassment, or anything other than enjoying each other's presence.
After it was finished and time to wash his hands, she left to throw the trash outside.
Now was the perfect time to surprise her. Pulling his legs out of the wheelchair stirrups, a solid grasp on the counter and a soft buzz of wings were enough to pull up to stand and lean against the sink. Slowly stopping his wings but keeping them up was easy enough to balance. As he rinsed the soap off, a soft gasp came over the sound of the running water. Balance was too precarious to look over his shoulder, but a stupid grin pulled. Turning off the water, he dried his hands and gripped the counter to hold and slowly drag a leg to turn just enough to be able to look at her.
Those beautiful brown eyes were as wide as saucers and her feet seemed to be anchored in the doorway.
Holding onto the counter, he leaned forward and grabbed Tink's walker. Popping it out, he used it to nudge the wheelchair back.
A tear slid down her cheek, as if sensing what he was about to show her.
Bracing and ready to buzz his wings with a wrong misstep, he moved his left leg forward in a sloppy step. And then had to concentrate for a moment to force it forward slightly more to take some weight. And then the right leg dragged forward. That one took using a hand to straighten the knee. And then another step and another to reach her.
He breathed embarrassingly hard by the time he stood before her as tears streamed down her cheeks. So much joy overflowed from her that his glow fed on it to glow brighter. "I didn't want you in PT because I wanted to surprise you," he said past a lump in his throat. "We don't know if it'll get better than this."
"Sleet," she whispered, her chest heaving faster as she looked up at him. And then she flung her arms around his chest and burst into tears.