Just when you guys think I've done it all (breaking my arm, having surgery, going to physical therapy), I've gone and outdone myself.

I broke my leg on a trampoline with my friends. And I didn't know it was broken, so I continued jumping (my friend was essentially 'don't be a wuss you just twisted your ankle'...gotta love her XD), and then ran a few miles during the next week, and then I noticed that the pain wasn't going away. Needless to say, I fractured my fibula and didn't know for a week XD it's a hairline fracture, meaning that I didn't move/displace the bone (NO SURGERY WOOT WOOT), and now my leg's in a boot. But if all goes well, I get to switch to a brace soon! So that's what has been crackalackin'! (along with my bone itself...too soon?)

Also, thank you all for your support with the loss of my uncle, and your patience, and your relief of the guilt I was feeling for not updating my fan fictions while mourning :) it's really meant a lot seeing your messages.

And with that being said, enjoy this...funny chapter. At least the beginning's funny. And a little...goofy. And a little homosexual. bUT A LITTLE HOMOSEXUALITY EVERY NOW AND THEN NEVER HURT THE WISEST MAN.

...cheers!

(-_-(-_-(-_-)-_-)-_-)

Joel's face colors as he sees me and Ellie, and it doesn't help that Ellie's still sleeping soundly, languidly blinking herself awake when she hears his voice. She waves at him, sleepy, and he clears his throat, "I'll, um...y'know, I'll be outside, uh, you two."

As he closes the door Ellie grips my shoulders, burying her face in my chest in an attempt to smother her giggles. I hold her as well, putting my nose to the top of her head, as we both crack up. Now it's not terrifying, the whole idea of coming out. Now it's just inevitable.

"You still think he considers me as straight?" Ellie teases, the only comprehensible words I can make out from her laughter. I hold her as we both shake in our attempts to smother our humor, no longer scared. I kiss the crown of her hair before murmuring, "Probably not."

This sets another round of laughter forward, and then Ellie pulls away from me, her lime eyes searching my face as she snorts, trying to suppress her outbursts. We manage to stare at each other for a few more minutes, and then go back into laughter.

It's safe to say that after what's happened, we've come to terms that things could be worse.

"I should go talk to him." Ellie murmurs, and throws back her blankets, pulling on one of my hoodies and adjusting her hair before opening up the door and slipping out. She does it before I can reject, but I know the real reason behind it is so I can't object. And I know it's something that's long overdue.

I roll onto my back, tucking myself under the blankets, tired and drained. I can't hear either of them, and I doze in and out of consciousness before Ellie walks back in, closing the door behind her. She crawls back into bed, and I wrap an arm around her shoulders as she places her ear over my chest.

"And?" I ask, and she shrugs, "He was angry, mostly. Said we'd talk when I got home."

"He was angry...?"

Then Ellie turns to face me, grinning, "Angry that I didn't tell him sooner. He told me that he'd always be there regardless of who I loved. And...he kinda guessed."

"Gee, I can't imagine why." I remark aloud, thinking back to Ellie brazenly sitting on my lap in spurts during dinner, or how we always acted...just a little more close with one another.

Ellie laughs, and then eyes me, "Now...all that's left is to come out to your mom."

"Have you forgotten we're still in the hospital?" I ask, and she blinks, "Oh. Right."

My fever from last night has faded, probably due to how much medicine Ellie gave me. I try to sit up, using my arms, but pain shoots through the entire side of my body, and Ellie gets the message, helping me to sit up and then pressing pillows between my back and the bed so I can't lie back down.

"How're you doing?" She asks softly, rubbing my good shoulder, eyes scanning my face, and I conjure up a weak smile, "Been better, I guess."

"No shit." Ellie teases in response, and then rolls onto her feet, coming around to my side of the bed, offering herself as a crutch, "C'mon. Let's vamoose."

I can't help but laugh, but my shot leg is being unresponsive. If I focus really hard I can wiggle my toes, but I can't do anything past that. Ellie notices my expression and pulls back the blankets, although my leg doesn't look anything different from before.

We eye my wiggling toes, and then Ellie gives a shrug, "What's the worst that happens?"

"True." And I let her pull my leg out onto the floor, leaning on her heavily to the bathroom. Once there, I lean against the sink, breathing hard. Something's wrong. I know something's wrong, and she does too, but for the moment we ignore it. Instead, she inches closer to the door, "I'll, um, be outside."

"You're pulling a Joel." I tease, making a smile even though the effort's tiring, and she chuckles. Then she sizes me up and sighs, coming back over to me, and before I can react she reaches her hands under my shirt, grabs both waistbands, and pulls my pants down to my ankles. My face goes red and begins to burn the next second.

"What the hell, Ellie!" I muster up in some form of a chastise, going to cover myself even though my shirt does the job. She gives me a two finger salute with a smug grin before pulling the door shut behind her, "I knew you couldn't do it yourself, assclown."

After I'm done doing my thing, I lean back against the sink, reaching down to pull my pants up. It's a minuscule task, but not being able to do it drives me up a wall. As soon as I begin to curve my back, pain shoots up my side, stars dancing in front of my eyes, and I let out a sharp gasp as I keep an arm out to steady myself, feeling sick. I try to calm myself down and try again, and then, "Need any help?"

Ellie's voice calls in a singsong through the door, almost as if she knows it. I steel my nerves, grit my teeth, and mumble, "Yeah."

The bathroom door flies back, and Ellie approaches me with a poker face, neither of us making eye contact as she lifts my pants back up. But because she's Ellie and I'm me, she lets the waistbands fly back at my hips, me going to give her a glare before I catch her expression and look away, face red again.

"Assclown." I mutter, as she helps me back into bed. The morning consists of waiting around and playing board games until finally Dr. Mundell walks through the door, a big grin on his face, "How are you two doing?"

Ellie's cold towards him, but I manage an, "Alright."

He takes a seat on the edge of my bed, Ellie shooting daggers at him as she rolls her dice, and then he eyes me, "You're doing remarkably well, Maria."

"Thank you. But, um..." I wait until Ellie's moved her piece the correct amount of spaces (because she usually cheats and gives herself a leeway of three more), and then turn to face him, "my side's a lot more painful. I can't feel my leg and I can't bend over."

Ellie snorts at the latter of my ailments and I kick her underneath the sheets. Dr. Mundell strokes his chin, the old doctor looking thoughtful, and then nodding, "It's natural. The amount of your blood caused widespread organ and tissue failure, and if we had the equipment, we could use a urine sample to see if your body's breaking down muscle. However, the most natural source of this pain is simple dormancy, and time to heal."

He claps a hand on my good knee with a smile, "You need time to rest. Pain is your body's way of telling you that it doesn't appreciate what you're doing to it."

Ellie snorts again and it takes everything in me to not lean over and smack her across the face. Then Dr. Mundell rises, "We'll start you on some food today, keep you in the hospital for a few more days, and then send you home."

"Sounds goods." And he leaves the room with a nod before closing the door behind him. That's when I glare at Ellie, "What's with you and him?"

"He was going to take you off of life support."

"What...?"

"If you didn't come out of the coma, Dr. Mundell was going to take you off and see whether it was worth it or not to let you live." Ellie deadpans, rolling the dice again. The silence grows in the room until it becomes suffocating, waiting for someone to break it, and that's when I do, "Nice snorting."

She moves her pieces, but a big grin grows on her face. I give her a shove as she falls over, laughing, "Okay! I'm sorry...it's just...dude, you can't be mad. Those were the perfect opportunities to whip out a 'that's what she said'."

"You're impossible." I groan, but smile anyway.

(-_-(-_-(-_-)-_-)-_-)

The days pass and there's not much to note about my injured side. Bandages are switched out daily, occasionally hourly. I'm given a wheelchair that Ellie uses as a scooter, pushing as fast as she can before hopping on the back, making an ass out of herself and the two of us in the hallways of the hospital. I visit Avery and Stefano and Diego, who haven't changed very much since their accidents. We all try to keep ourselves to some sense of normalcy.

Jamie comes to visit her grandparent and launches herself into a flying hug at me, almost knocking me back down with the wheelchair. But I hug her back, and she sits happily in my lap for the rest of her visit.

My mom and Mikey stop by often, Mikey giving me books from home to read, Mom dropping off meals and snacks for us to pig out on.

And then...I'm released. They can't let me leave the hospital with the wheelchair, since the community isn't quite equipped for that sort of lifestyle, so Joel has to carry me home. Nothing classier than being in the arms of your girlfriend's dad and reminding yourself that he knows you're dating his daughter.

Talk about awkward. Luckily Ellie dug out some of her old pun books and kept us laughing on the walk home, so there wasn't much time to reflect on all that.

When we reach my house, Joel carries me up to my bedroom and lays me down on the bed. As Ellie goes downstairs to get some water so I can take some pain medication, he sits on the edge of my bed. I try not to make contact with him until finally, "Maria."

"Y...yeah?" My voice comes out weak to my standards, and he sighs, "I don't know how to tell you this."

Here it comes. The whole 'don't break her heart, don't have sex and die, don't date her'.

"Thank you."

I blink, "Wait...what?"

"For..." He shrugs. "You've brought Ellie back. She was in a dark place beforehand, and now...you've given her a little hope to stick around." There were tears in his eyes. I pretended not to notice, only giving him a smile, "I'm just happy she's happy."

He nods, maybe a little too choked up to say me, only clapping me on the shoulder before leaving the room. He must've caught Ellie in the hallway, because she walks in eyeing me, "Did you say something to him? Did he say something to you?"

"No." I begin to laugh, and she sets down the glass of water on my nightstand. As I count the dosage up of my painkillers and swallow them, Ellie paces around the room, remembering when she first came, I guess. Seems so long ago from where we are now.

I decided not to tell Ellie what Joel had told me, in fear it'd embarrass her. As I finished swallowing the last of the dosage and downed the rest of the water, I couldn't say that I honestly wasn't exhausted.

"You look like you're about to pass out." Ellie teases, and I shrug, "Fifty-fifty shot of me going in the next minute or two."

She chuckles, then comes around to the side of my bed, taking off my shoes and hoodie, tucking me in all nice. And then she kicks off her own shoes and snuggles right beside me.

"Look at us...nap buddies." I tease, and she sighs, "Don't say that again."

I reluctantly agree, and as per usual we pass out.

(-_-(-_-(-_-)-_-)-_-)

Dr. Mundell makes a house call to deliver some crutches for me. Unlike the ones with my ankle, these circle around my forearm with a grip for my hands.

"As your arm heals, you can begin to use these to get around." He remarks, handing them to me. Luckily Ellie's ducked out of the room, so that relieves me of the duty that is trying to settle the tension between the two.

"Thank you." I reply, and he nods. Then he goes over some proper arm exercises to begin as I heal, such as progressively lifting heavier and heavier objects. I know I'm not supposed to be doing them for a while, with his reasoning being that if I get to stir crazy in the next few days, I'll at least know some safe ways to relieve that.

The biggest concern now is healing time, physical therapy, and then on top of it all is the wound on my stomach and all the internal injuries and their stitches, because if I push myself too hard I can tear them open again. Wouldn't that be great? Sorry...it's a bit graphic.

Dr. Mundell leaves, and then Ellie comes in the room and sees the crutches and her eyes go wide, "Dude! Why do you always get the fun stuff?"

I laugh, and then gesture expansively to them, "They're yours until I can use them."

Ellie doesn't hesitate to place her hands on the grips with her forearms encircled by the plastic. Like the crutches beforehand, they're adjusted for my height, not hers, so she essentially launches herself across the room. I laugh at herself as she begins to giggle at her own goofiness.

Healing is boring, and waiting around playing video games can only relieve so much of that boredom. Ellie goes and rides horses and I gradually pick up arm strength as my muscle has essentially atrophied during my dormancy. Stitches are removed, bandages are replaced, but not much can be said for my leg. Dr. Mundell fears that when the bullet went through my abdomen, it went in diagonally and came out through my spine, rendering my brain's messages to my leg useless through a corrupt system. Why I've retained the use of one leg as opposed to neither is anyone's guess, though.

I've seen how my life is suddenly flipped upside down. Now I'm dependent on others almost 24/7 with the use of my leg and arm sacrificed in hopes of healing. Ellie tries to make me feel normal, still teasing me, still kissing me, but there's a tension that I can't go out and hang out with her at the stables or go swimming or do all of those crazy escapades that were so much easier beforehand when I was able-bodied. I can't help but feeling like a burden when she leaves and I know I can't follow her back.

After Dr. Mundell gives me the green light to begin using my crutches, I practice daily. I do one-legged pushups, ignoring the stars in my eyes as I sit up afterwards to catch my breath. I put two chairs from the kitchen at shoulder-length, lowering myself and lifting myself solely on the strength of my arms, ignoring them as they shake until I finally can't hoist myself up anymore.

There's always this lingering sense of guilt, prominent now more so than before, like how when my family and I were on the run I was aways the one who needed protecting and defending. And now, after I've finally done so for myself, I'm still dependent on others. It frustrates me, and the one time I told Ellie about it she slugged me on my good shoulder, and told me there was nothing bad about needing more help than others, especially with a lame leg. She told me that I had talents outside of the apocalypse. I tried to believe her, but at the end of the day I was still myself.

At the end of the day I hadn't changed.

(-_-(-_-(-_-)-_-)-_-)

As I start to use my crutches more and more, I grow more mobile. My dependency fades. But the rest of the town is still reeling from the attack. Shots and digs are fired at Tommy and Maria and Dr. Mundell at town meetings, screaming and yelling about how safe is their place, really, if a bandit attack sends over half of the community into the hospital? How can school start when there's always the fear of someone interrupting and charging in?

Ellie and I snuck into the rafters above the building, and we couldn't believe how ruthless the community's become.

"They're spoiled." She spits, eyes dark and narrowed, and I sigh, "Watch them go back outside for a month and see what they say."

It's an understatement to say everyone's become spoiled and comfortable in the town. They're dependent to a sort, enjoying the fact that they don't constantly have to watch their backs. And while it's nice, it's a luxury, not a necessity.

Ellie and I watch the heated debate. Her face is expressionless, emotionless, numb as she absorbs the scene. I try to follow along, but end up leaving the rafters. She follows a few minutes later, and I eye her, "You alright?"

"Things are just...a mess right now." She musters up a weak smile, and then I walk in front of her as best I can on my crutches, "Still excited for school?"

"Oh, shut up." And she punches me half-heartedly.

(-_-(-_-(-_-)-_-)-_-)

School does resume about three weeks after the bandit attack. Or it starts, at least. There was an old elementary school in the town, and since there's a significant lack of kids elementary school age, it's meant for everyone: all grades, all kids.

Ellie offers to carry my notebook for me as we file in through the double doors. We all look puckered out, except for the little kids who actually look excited to be here.

We don't learn like schools before the fungal outbreak period. None of analyzing passages in Shakespeare or writing essays about underlying causes of World War I. We learn things necessary to our situations. Teachers are recruited from various places in the town to teach us fighting skills, survival skills, and the occasional math, in order to teach us to look at situations in different ways.

The first half of the day is spent in lessons, learning how to survive in treacherous situations, chemistry teachers showing us common household items to use in destruction, things like salt/sugar bombs or toothpaste salves. Architects and the skilled builders come in to show us how to escape from houses, checking to see if it's a really safe structure, and the dangers of lighting treated wood. Teachers value application more than anything here, so occasionally, from what I remember from last year's schooling, we go outside of the border to nearby houses and whatnot. There's also been a few camping trips, and in the older kids' class from last year they had to survive a week without any adult supervision. They all made it back, and told tall tales about clickers and runners and all sorts of crazy stuff they found in the forest.

The second half of the day is spent in training. Working on application, on fighting skills, training us to survive out there, whipping us into tip-top shape. There's a silent competition between me and Ellie over who can grow a six-pack first. Aside from fighting, we learn how to use bows and arrows, knives, the occasional sword, as well as pressure points, places to cut that will kill anyone or anything instantly. Occasionally there'll be a hunting trip of some sort, where we're in charge of catching and gutting our own food. Fun times, right?

From the double doors we're ushered into the gym, where we sit with the rest of the kids our age. Everyone tries to be polite about me on crutches, but there's a lot of little kid eyes staring them down. At least Jamie gives me a wave, and I pause to smile and give her a wave back before Ellie nudges me to keep moving.

They call old classes back together, leaving the new arrivals in the bleachers while the rest of us file into our old assemblies of peers from before the summer. Ellie looks small sitting on the bleachers by herself, Lizzie just a few short seats away, and then there's this whole armageddon of little kids on the floor. As the teachers instruct the little kids to their respective classrooms and groups, me and my old friends try to wave Ellie over as the teachers are distracted. She stands up and swiftly walks towards us, trying not to laugh at she falls in rank beside the rest of us. Lizzie gives her a glare, and I continue to grin.

(-_-(-_-(-_-)-_-)-_-)

"Everybody, stand up!" The teacher, Mr. Shawn, declares as he walks into the room, slamming the books down on his desk and making everyone who's been talking jump. Me and Ellie turn to look over, as he eyes us with a single eyebrow poised, "Am I sensing...hesitation?"

His tone is so grave I can't help but feel as if I should be doing more, but the rest of us are stock-still. That's when he breaks out into a great belly laugh, "Glad to see you all are following orders! Thought I'd have another rowdy bunch like the one last year."

We all manage sheepish smiles and stay sitting on our tables, Ellie surreptitiously reaching for my hand, hidden under my notebook. My cheeks redden but I give her hand a squeeze. Like a secret language of some sort. More of Maria, what the hell's going on? Just go with it, Ellie.

"I'll be teaching in lecture style. Take notes on what you think is important. I recommend writing down what plants are edible, because in about a week or two we'll be having an edibility test. And if you don't know what's safe to eat, you'll be failing in more ways that one."

And the year starts, as Mr. Shawn begins to talk and lecture us on plant edibility. To his credit, he lets us sit wherever in the room, so me and Ellie stay sitting on the desks in the corner and leaning back against the wall. More often than not, we doodle on the corners of our notebooks and try to suppress our laughter seeing each other's ideas and jokes. We both have a bit of a "that's-what-she-said" streak, so any time Mr. Shawn says anything that sounds remotely like an innuendo, we can't make eye contact lest we burst into laughter.

But it's a successful class, nonetheless. I learn about plants that are edible and plants that aren't, and edibility tests, such as rubbing berries on your wrist to test if they're safe to eat. If they are, they won't cause a rash or be irritable with your skin. If they aren't, then you'll be able to tell by the reaction on your wrist.

Our next class is math, with the eccentric Mr. Little. He's a chill guy overall, and we take some general notes about math and whatnot. I hear Ellie groaning almost noiselessly beside me for the majority of the class, since math isn't her strong suit. Mr. Little assures us that math isn't a test of how smart we are, but how well we can see different ways to solve problems, both literally and figuratively.

Finally, our last class is something to everyone's surprise. It's animation.

"What are they gonna teach us here?" I hear someone murmur, and I don't have an answer. Nobody does goof-off classes anymore, as we like to call them. So walking in and having "Welcome to Animation!" chalked up on the big black board surprises all of us.

Ellie and I, per usual, take seats beside each other, her helping me to sit before plopping down herself. We lean my canes against the wall, hoping they aren't about to fall when the teacher walks in.

"Mitzi!" I whisper furiously to Ellie, who slaps a hand over her mouth to keep from busting a gut laughing. I grin as our friend walks to the front of the room, eyeing down anyone who dares to eye her dubiously, "I'm certain the majority of you are surprised to be here. Trust me, you're not more surprised than I am. The council of the town essentially told me you're not having many 'creative' classes outside of math, which, I think we all can agree, isn't a class that inspires creativity. It inspires boredom. Just don't tell Mr. Little that."

She plops down on a chair, and then grins, gesturing her arms expansively, "But past that, welcome to animation! I'm your teacher, Ms. Reisman, or, if you prefer, you can call me Mitzi."

I can tell she's losing the majority of the group, and so she stands up, clapping her hands together, "I want everyone to take out a piece of paper from your notebooks."

We follow along, less dubiously than the rest, can I add, as Mitzi tells us to rip off a piece of our paper. We continue, and fold the paper, and then she tells us about creating a two frame animation. Ellie and I sketch out two small pictures, and then curl up the top piece of the paper, using our pen to do so.

When we're done, Mitzi shows us on the board to drag our pen back and forth across the piece of paper so we're able to see both images. There's a lot of gasping and a lot of laughter as people create their two-frame animations. Mine is a stick figure waving, while Ellie's is a giraffe jumping up and down. People come over to show their animations, and Mitzi has us pass them along in a circle around the room, letting us see the rest of the animations.

People take scrap paper and begin to make more animations, growing more and more detailed in both frames. I'm finishing up details on a blinking eye when I feel a hand on my shoulder, and turn to face Mitzi, who grins before remarking, "Glad to see you're still kicking, Maria."

"Glad I'm here." I reply back, and Ellie gives a cough in the corner, "Now, if only she could walk..."

I roll my eyes while Mitzi laughs, and then she ruffles both of our hair before, "I need you two to stay after class."

The class zooms by with everyone having fun and enjoying themselves, and I can't say I'm not nervous to be pulled aside afterwards. At least Ellie's here. It gives me some relief to know I'm not here alone.

As everyone else files out to the lunchroom, Ellie and I clean up before Mitzi approaches us. She sits on a desk across from us, pointing at Ellie first, "After lunch, you're heading down to the gym with everyone else for training."

Then she points at me, "And you're going to the nurse's office."

"Why the nurse's office? I'm not feeling sick." I reply, raising my eyebrows, and Mitzi sighs, giving a sad smile. She gestures to my almost-obsolete leg, "Because of...your problem."

"Oh shit. They're not letting you come to training?" Ellie asks, looking at me up and down. She hasn't been to it, but I've told her all about the funny stuff that happened in class last year. Needless to say, she was excited to come and make herself look like an ass as much as me.

Mitzi shakes her head, "Dr. Mundell wants Maria to go to PT."

"PT?"

"Physical therapy. The nurse will begin working on you, more or less, to see if you can regain some sort of a motor skill in your leg again."

I sigh, leaning back against my chair, "This sucks."

"That it does, kid. But hey, on the bright side," I look up to face her as she grins, gesturing to the room, "you're not teaching a class."

"Fair enough."

(-_-(-_-(-_-)-_-)-_-)

"I could stay with you, y'know." Ellie says as we approach the nurse's office. I manage a smile and nudge her as much as I could muster, "Nah, go enjoy practice. It's a lot of fun."

"It's not gonna be so much fun without you." She murmurs, and then I shrug, "I'll see how quickly I can switch over to training. But for right now, go for it. Don't worry about me."

Her green eyes seem to sift through my futile arguments, and then she glances up and down the eroded hallways. That's when she kisses me, lips pressed against mine, butterflies rising in my stomach as always, as I'm pressed against the wall and use my good leg to keep myself balanced.

I find my hand going to her neck, my other wrapping around her waist, as she holds herself against me, and I lose myself, thinking This is what I've really missed.

When Ellie pulls away, both of our faces are red, from embarrassment or maybe this time around from something more. Then I manage a cocky smile, "So that's why you wanted me to come to training, huh?"

"Oh, shut up." She teases, but her heart's not in it. Then she moves forward and knocks on the door of the nurse's office.

"Come in." The pleasant voice isn't something we're used to, and Ellie and I exchange dubious looks before walking inside. The office has two beds, one unmade, and a set of bars across the wall...more or less like the plastic ballet ones I saw in dollhouses when on the run.

"I take it that you're Maria." The nurse says, and then offers her hand to me, "Dr. Mundell told me about what happened. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine." I reply back, acting as if it's the most natural thing to be on my crutches, my fingers tensing around the grips and then releasing suddenly. Ellie notices and forces a smile to the nurse, "I'm Ellie, Maria's...good friend."

The nurse smiles, "It's good to see close friends."

Ellie coughs, suggesting more, and I surreptitiously whack her before the nurse offers her hand, "My name is Alicia. I hope I'll be able to get you to stand without those crutches soon, Maria."

"Thanks." I return the shake, and so does Ellie. That's when I hear and feel the vibrations running through the floor from the large group bounding into the gym. Ellie's eyes widen, and I can't help myself from chuckling at her expression.

"Go on. Get to training." I tease her, as she turns to leave, biting her lip. Before I can lose my courage, I balance precariously on my good leg and one cane while using the other one to whap her in the butt. She turns quickly, glaring, but not flipping me off before running to join the group going into the gym.

"Now, about you and your training." Alicia begins, obviously not put off by me and Ellie, and gesturing for me to sit down. I do, and she gives a smile, "The extent of your injury isn't quite known, which is why Dr. Mundell insisted you should be in physical therapy. They're not sure if you will be able to gain your strength and mobility back, and if so, how soon."

I give a nod, and she continues, "You'll be able to join your friends for training later on. Right now, we just want to work on the possible muscle atrophy and flexibility."

And so my physical therapy begins, as Alicia helps me to walk to the bars. With one on either side of me, she has me place my hands on them and begin to pull myself across, keeping my ankle in a brace as to not have me twist it when I place my weight on it once more. I do rounds like this, and don't realize how tired I've become until I sit down and feel the back of my t-shirt slick with sweat.

"This may help." She hands me a water bottle, and I eagerly drain it, feeling tired but strong. Past that, we work on arm strength, me doing things like bicep curls and attempting pull-ups (which I really can't pull off), and then on core strength.

By the time training has ended and Ellie's come back to pick me up, both of our faces are red from exertion and exhaustion. Alicia hands me my crutches, and I feel like my arms have the consistency of jelly when I go to move with them. We give waves, and Ellie's back to holding my books as we leave.

"I wonder if I can skateboard with my crutches." I think aloud, and Ellie, bless her, grins, "We should try it when we get back to your place."

(-_-(-_-(-_-)-_-)-_-)

We spend the last few waning hours of sunlight attempting to skateboard on the cracked street in front of my house, only relenting when my mom calls us in for dinner. She had invited Joel over for dinner since Tommy and Maria were meeting to discuss strategies of some sort, and she felt sorry that he'd have to eat alone without Ellie.

Ellie and I toss our skateboards into our garage before racing up the steps, or at least as much as I could. We sit ourselves down at the table as Joel and my mom begin to serve pizza, something I hadn't had in a while. Mikey thumps down the steps as well, pausing at the banister, "Hey Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I go eat dinner at Avery's? He just walkie-talkie'd me." My brother's face fails to hide his grimace, and I know he's worried about his friend. Mom sees through it too, and nods, "Sure thing. Do you want to bring over anything?"

"Nah, that's alright. I'll be back later." He waves to me and Ellie sitting at the table before dashing out the front door. Joel sits himself down opposite of me and Ellie, while my moms plops down beside him.

"So, girls, how was the first day of school?" Mom asks, attempting to break the ice. I had heard her and Joel laughing while me and Ellie were out skateboarding, and a part of me is glad the two hit it off. It'd be harder to talk about dating Ellie with her and Joel hating each other's guts.

I give a shrug, "Good."

"Just 'good'?" Mom teases, and Ellie joins in on the harping, giving me a shove while biting off a piece of her pizza simultaneously, "She's just in a mood today."

"You two seemed like you sure switched dispositions." Joel continues, and I laugh. That's when he eyes Ellie, "So what'd you learn?"

"How to tell poison ivy from..." Ellie gestures off with her hands, "some other plant that looks like poison ivy. And two-frame animations. And how it takes sixty seconds for a person to bleed out from their jugular vein."

I snort, trying to hold back my laughter. It's an assort of what they're teaching us, and Joel's face bears the shock like Mom's did so long ago when Mikey and I talked about what the school was teaching us. Meanwhile my mother reaches for another slice of pizza, "Sounds...riveting."

"It was. Mitzi's teaching us animation." I add, and my mom clears her throat, eyes darting around my face before, "And...training?"

She knows it's a touchy subject for me, since I've been bummed out after learning I wouldn't be taking part in it, but Ellie jumps right in, talking about how she wrestled today and took down all the boys in our class. Joel smiles, like a proud father, and I can't help but laugh, trying to imagine little Ellie taking down all of the big kids our class had.

"I went to physical therapy." I murmur, and Joel smiles, "That's great they're able to help you out. Maria said that Dr. Mundell was worried you wouldn't take to it."

"Well...she did say I'd be able to go into training as soon as I got my strength back." I say, giving a smile ad trying to make sure Mom and Joel don't worry too much about me. The last thing I'd like is for them to keep worrying about me. Because, seriously, I don't want to me that much of a burden.

The meal ends and Ellie and I head up to my room after cleaning up. I flip on my light and flop down on my bed, narrowly missing impaling myself on my crutches/canes. Ellie follows, placing her head over my chest, and she eyes me, "Is it still bothering you?"

I don't even need to specify what's got my goat, and Ellie gives a sigh, "Don't worry about it. Okay? Just be happy you're alive. I'm happy. I'm very happy."

"I am too." I murmur back, but it's the tired old response and per usual my heart's not in it. I don't feel happy. I don't feel anything. So, mindlessly, I stroke Ellie's hair until she falls asleep with her ear over my heart, trying to ignore this numbness opening up a void inside of me, making me feel less and less. I try, like countless times before, to think of Rachel and Dad looking down at me and encouraging me to keep going on. I try to make myself feel like I'm more, I'm better, that I'm grateful to still be around in this crazy, messed up world.

But instead I feel tears burning at the corners of my eyes, and press my cheek against the crown of Ellie's hair, holding her gently as I cry softly.