Episode Forty Six

Zack was discharged from the hospital the next day, the doctors having determined that he had suffered nothing than the usually side effects of a mild concussion. Milo stayed in the hospital for almost a full week. Over the course of the next several days, under Dr. Dunwood's supervision, Milo was subjected to a full battery of tests. In addition to the neurological tests he had undergone with Dr. Wendover, Dr. Dunwood had ordered a complete work-up, starting with a full physical. Milo had been weighed and measured and made to stand in only his cast as he was examined from head to foot, including the embarrassing parts he preferred not to think about. Milo was also subjected to a number of specialized test. Milo was injected with barium, which made him feel as though he was walking around with a bowling ball in his abdomen. Milo's abdomen was then X-rayed, along with his broken leg, which was found to be healing well. He was given an eye exam, which confirmed that he had 20/20 eyesight. They took tissue biopsies, as well blood and other fluid samples, all of which cause no end of chaos in the lab. When the hematologists tried to put Milo's blood sample in a centrifuge to separate the plasma from the platelets, the latent negative probability field in Milo's red blood cells caused the centrifuge to spin itself to pieces. A sample of muscle tissue taken from Milo's forearm result in a microscope that refused to focus properly and another that had to be sent for repairs when all of its lenses cracked.

Milo's friends came to visit him every day, which he appreciated. On the third day of his stay in the hospital, Dakota had snuck him a bag of fast food from Noodle Burger, for which Milo had been grateful. He had found that being cooped up in the hospital and subjected to what seemed like an endless barrage of tests had left him feeling a little stir crazy and Milo found that he had to actively work at not taking his feelings out on his friends.

"Thanks, Dakota," he said around mouthful of his noodle burger.

The time agent shrugged. "Don't worry about," he said. "The one constant of every timeline I've ever been in is that hospital food is always terrible. It's like it's a universal constant, like the speed of light, or Murphy's Law, or gravity."

Milo was finally discharged from the hospital three days later, having undergone an additional two days of medical testing before Dr. Dunwood, following a consultation with Dr. Gardner, was satisfied that Milo had exhibited no permanent side effects as a result of his mutation. They threw Milo a kind of celebratory dinner with his favourite pizza, pepperoni and sausage, along with several large bottles of soda and a couple big bags of potato chips. The nurses on the ward had come to like Milo and turned a blind eye when his friends stayed after the end of official visiting hours. They were eventually gently ejected by the nurses because Milo had fallen asleep.

Milo woke up at around 7:30 the next morning, to the sound of the hospital orderly coming through the door with his breakfast tray. After finishing his breakfast, Milo levered himself out of bed. He hobbled over to where his backpack and body armour sat on the chair in the corner. He picked them up and hobbled into the bathroom. After a shower, which was cut short when the shower head barely whizzed past Milo's left ear and embedded itself in the opposite wall. He quickly shut off the water pouring from the broken faucet like a fire hose, before the bathroom floor flooded. Milo rummaged through the contents of his backpack and pulled out a toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste and a hairbrush. When he was finished brushing his teeth, he pulled a towel and his usual spare change of clothes out of his backpack. Milo dried himself off. By the time Milo had finished getting dressed and opened the door, he found his friends waiting for him, along with an orderly with a wheelchair. Milo shouldered his backpack. "Oh, hi guys," he said.

"Ready to go home, Milo?" asked Amanda.

Milo nodded. "Yeah," he said, "let's go home." He picked up his crutches and thrust them under his armpits. He quickly cast his eye around the room, checking one last time to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Milo turned to go, hobbling past the orderly and the wheelchair. "Oh," said the orderly, "hospital regs require that-."

Milo stopped and turned. He realized that the orderly waiting for him to sit down and he chuckled. "I think I'll walk, thanks," he said, "I got stuck in the elevator twice on the same day this week."

When they got the hospital atrium, they found Wasabi waiting with his car. They crossed the hospital atrium, which was dotted with little knots of people scattered among bright, leafy green plants and glowing information kiosks. They walked outside into the bright morning sunshine and piled into Wasabi's car. He started the engine, checked his blind spot and pulled into the flow of traffic. The drive from the hospital to the Fredrickson compound, where Phineas and Ferb's jet still sat on the helipad where it had landed a week ago, took twenty minutes. The elaborate wrought iron gates opened as Wasabi approached and he drove through, turning out of the flow of morning traffic and on to the long driveway. They wound their up the long, winding driveway through the perfectly manicured grounds until they stopped in front of a large mansion. Everyone piled out of Wasabi's car and went inside.

They were met in the lobby by a tall, bald headed man with a permanently bored expression on his face. "Good morning, Master Wasabi," said Heathcliff in a bored voice.

"Don't mind us, Healthcliff," replied Wasabi, "we're just passing through."

"Very good, sir," replied the butler. "I believe you'll find Master Fredrick in the back garden by the helipad."

"Thanks, Heathcliff," said Wasabi. They walked across the large entry hall, with its expensive looking oil paintings and mahogany furniture. Everything was brightly illuminated by long shafts of mid morning sunlight. They walked down a hall and then through a set of double doors, across a large patio dotted with furniture and up a winding flagstone path to a large helipad. Hiro, Honey Lemon, Fred, Go Go and Baymax were standing waiting for Milo and the others, under one of the sleek jet's broad wings. There were several rounds of thanks and good byes, hugs, hand shakes and exchanges of contact information. The jet's door stood open and Milo hobbled up the metal staircase, ducked low, went inside and sat down.

When Milo walked from his house to the bus stop at the end of Druid Drive, the following Monday morning, it was to the accompaniment of whispers from the other kids waiting for the school bus and the usual snort of indignation and disbelief from Bradley, along with the usual wild gesticulations from Elliot.

"Oh, hi Milo."

Milo turned at the sound of his name and found himself face to face with Mort Schaefer. "Oh, hi. Mort," he said.

"I knew you'd be back today," he said.

"Really?" asked Milo.

Mort nodded. "I saw it in the emanations from my amethyst."

Milo wasn't really sure how to respond to that. "Oh," he said, "ummm…..thanks."

"So," Milo suddenly found himself casting around for something to say, when he suddenly seemed to recall that the Geckos had had a basketball game that week. They had gone to the national finals for the first time in the history of Jefferson G County Middle School. "How did the basketball team do?" he asked.

From the way Mort shook his head, Milo guessed that the game hadn't gone well. "We lost," he said after a minute or two. Mort was the basketball team's student manager.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mort," said Milo in sympathy. Like everyone else, Milo had become swept up in the excitement of the Geckos going on a winning streak. Like everyone else he was a little disappointed to learn that the team had not done as well as everyone had expected.

"Echo Creek had new point guard,"continued Mort. "He was really good. We were tied for awhile, then we fell behind in the third quarter and never caught up."

The school bus arrived ten minutes later, only to settle onto its rims when all the air escaped from its tires. As a result, everyone walked to school instead. Milo, Zack, Melissa and Amanda brought up the rear, talking amongst themselves as Milo hobbled along on his crutches. Milo almost fell twice crossing the school parking lot, and spent the rest of the day fielding what seemed like an endless barrage of questions, mostly from people he didn't know. Ordinarily, Milo didn't mind. He was well aware that his various absences and mishaps often elicited questions from other people, and most of the time Milo was happy to answer them, but for some reason, that he couldn't really put his finger on, Milo found that this time he wasn't really in the mood. More than once, Milo found himself looking at his cast. It was covered with almost a dozen signatures and get well messages. Milo appreciated the gesture of support and sympathy from his friends, but the sight of the all signatures made Milo feel uncomfortable. He still had no memory of what had happened and the doctors in San Fransokyo had told him that it was entirely possible that he would never remember what had happened at all. Milo found that he was having a hard time deciding how he felt about that. On the one hand, Milo was quietly proud of how Zack had pushed through his insecurities. He was also grateful that Zack had interposed himself between Milo and Melissa when Milo had tried to attack her after he had been mutated by the parasynths. He got lucky, Milo thought to himself, Zack almost had his eyes clawed out. It could have been a lot worse. Milo had wondered off and on for the last week if he should say something to Zack, for overcoming his claustroavoidance and for trying to protect his friends. By the end of the day, Milo had decided that he would talk to Zack as soon as he found an opportunity.