It's a strange feeling, to try and fit back into some sort of routine.
Ma works a lot still, but she always leaves out some sort of breakfast for them before she hurries out of the house in the mornings. Connor is getting better at letting Murphy sort himself out, though he still has to force himself not to fuss and worry.
Murphy is handling things well, or so Connor thinks warily. He finds things to do around the house, like sorting through newspapers to get the coupons or calling out cooking instructions from an ancient book to Connor. He's also gotten into the habit of telling his brother what he should be doing, or hinting bluntly that he should go out.
"Ye'd be in double history if ye were back in school," Murphy calls out loudly from the sofa, or "Ye could catch the Saturday GAA match now if ye ran," while he takes some painkillers. And every time Connor just rolls his eyes, and informs Murphy firmly that he'd do all those things when Murphy could do them as well.
Thankfully, most neighbours seem to have the good sense to leave them be, and just let them adjust, except for one or two who think that it's totally acceptable to barge into their house. The first few times this happens, Murphy flinches so hard at the sound of the door slamming open unexpectedly that he either drops whatever he's holding or grips a surface nearby tight. One time he had been in the middle of a transfer to the couch, and had almost fallen with the shock of the sharp sound of the door.
Connor had had to catch him, lunging out of his chair to land beside Murphy and had only just managed cushion his fall, but his brother had still jostled his legs and let out a whimper. At this, Connor had risen to his full height and screamed at whoever it was to get out. The rest of that day had been spent with Murphy in bed and Connor staring out the window and glaring at their neighbours.
No one had come over without asking Ma beforehand after that.
They were due for a check-up at the hospital though, Connor to get his cast off and Murphy to see his doctors again. Ma hadn't been able to get the day off work, so Uncle Sibeal took the day off to drive them up. He turns the radio up and jokes with them about girls for most of the way to the hospital, but they all get quieter as they near it.
Their uncle seems to be at a loss for words when they park, and he drums his fingers on the steering wheel while Murphy drags himself into the wheelchair. The brothers exchange a glance, and then Connor leans down to peer in the window, "Ye can wait in th' car, if ye want. We know our way in so it'll be grand."
It takes longer to convince their uncle that they really will be okay, but eventually he agrees, tossing Connor a few pounds to get something to eat. Connor pushes Murphy through the hospital doors, but lets his brother pull away from him and start pushing himself after a few minutes.
"Can't wait ta get this fuckin' thing off," He says with a scowl, trying to scratch underneath the hard plaster.
Murphy just lets out a hoarse laugh, and takes a hand off the wheels for a second to gesture at his legs, "Tell me about it, Connor. They'd better have good news fer me, or I'm gonna burst someone I swear ta God." In answer, Connor just reaches down to ruffle his brother's hair, and dances around an elderly couple when Murphy give him the finger.
He has to work to keep a grin off his face, when they finally saw off his cast. Connor flexes his fingers carefully, while his brother laughs at how white his arm has gotten, but then a doctor comes looking for Murphy and the mood adjusts.
"I'm sorry, Connor, but you have to stay here."
The words instantly put a scowl on his face, but Murphy only shrugs, and pushes himself forwards with a twist of his hands, "I'll see ye in a bit, Conn." Connor reaches out with his bad hand, curling his weak fingers in his brother's jumper for a split second, and he drags up a smile for him.
"See ye then."
.
Murphy can feel the doctor's hands reaching for the wheelchair handles, can feel the man wanting to push him like some kind of invalid, and he wheels himself faster in an effort to avoid the man.
He's told that they're going to the x-ray department, on the second floor, but that's all. Murphy's not in the mood to make idle conversation either, so the trip is silent and all the while he has to force himself not to stare down at his limp legs.
When they get there, it takes two orderlies to scoot him efficiently over to the table, despite the fact that Murphy protests that he can do it himself, if they just adjust the table down lower. No one listens to him though, just smiling and lifting him like a kid, so he curses them all out in his head, and is glad that Connor isn't here to see him being treated like a child.
The x-rays don't take long, and he doesn't have to do anything, just lie still and resist the urge to make rude gestures.
Then he's taken to an exam room, and transferred over to the bed, not saying a word the entire time until he demands that someone gets Connor. Because he can see all sorts of equipment, and the lights are bright, and the people just keep giving him these huge supportive smiles.
He doesn't need any of them.
Connor doesn't come though, and Murphy is left waiting in the room alone, wondering if anyone even went to his brother in the first place. He clasps his hands tightly together, drapes his hoodie over his legs so he doesn't have to look at them, and looks around awkwardly.
Finally his doctor shows up, and sweeps the jumper off his legs with one motion. Murphy scowls, but doesn't say anything, chewing on his lip.
With him, the doctor brings a few nurses and some interns, all of whom stand around the bed and look on quietly. The man speaks in short, clipped sentences, and asks Murphy to flex his toes and inquires about how he's been doing. He looks at the x-rays, clicking his tongue for some reason that Murphy can't figure out.
When he takes out the saw, Murphy draws the line.
"Wait, what th' fuck?" He holds up a hand, eyes narrowed and wary. A nurse makes a sympathetic noise, and tries touching his hair, but he flinches away, "What's goin' on? Wha'—"
In a tone that suggests that he doesn't have time for this, the doctor says carefully, "We're going to take off your cast now, and then see what we can do about that brace – maybe unlock it slightly." He raises the saw again, and it shouldn't scare Murphy as much as it does, he knows that, "Now, just stay still."
Murphy can't breathe when the cast is being cut off, and his body is trembling; even though he knows that it's a stupid reaction. He had broken his arm before, when they were kids, and he hadn't been that afraid then. It's different now, and Connor's not even there to make fun of him or be supportive, and because the cast was constant and stable and maybe he doesn't want it gone just yet.
He lets out a whimper when someone lifts his ankle carefully so they can slide the underside of the cast out, and he realises that his hands are gripping the rails on the bed tightly. "Please don't—no , please, jus'…" Murphy ends up begging them not to touch him when hands gently examine his leg, his bottom lip trembling as he tries to keep himself from bursting into tears.
They don't let up though, and he can't even hear the whispered comforts that nurses give him, as he presses his head back into the elevated bed, and feels his chest heaving with unshed sobs.
"Okay, Murphy, okay, it's all over."
Murphy can feel himself breathing again when the doctor takes a few steps back, and he digs his fingers into his arms as he crosses his arms tightly. It takes another minute before he can formulate a sentence, and he forces himself to ask about something else other than Connor's whereabouts. "What's th' story then?"
He listens while they tell him about how 'well' his leg is doing, and how good the x-rays look, trying not to burst into tears and dissolve into a shaking bundle. The doctor moves slowly when he approaches him again, going to look at his other leg, and he really tries his hardest not to move away.
This time, they slide the brace off, and then Murphy does cry, as someone lifts his leg carefully. He lets out a muffled scream when his leg bends slightly, because it had been held in such a straight angle for weeks, and it feels wrong when it bends the tiniest bit. He's a mess of tears on the bed, and there's nothing that he can do about it, except to hold his hand over his mouth to keep himself from screaming out when they start to manipulate his leg carefully.
After what feels like years, someone puts the brace back on, and the sensation of security that floods back through him scares Murphy a bit.
The doctor orders most of the people out of the room then, and pulls up a chair beside the bed quietly to wait for him to calm down. All Murphy can think about his Connor, and how his brother is probably stalking through the halls looking for him by now.
"Sorry about tha'," He mutters, when the tears finally stop flowing, and he can look the doctor in the face again.
"You don't have to apologise, Murphy," comes the reply, and he scrunches up his face in an attempt to listen properly to the doctor as opposed to all the other times when he'd just drifted off, "Now, what we've done today is had a good look at both your legs, and decided to remove the lower leg cast. Someone is going to come in in a bit, and give you some exercises to be working on for that leg. The other thing we did has to do with the brace… we've unlocked the brace to 90 degrees, meaning that if you were able, you would be able to bend your leg 90 degrees. Obviously, it will take time for you to get that range of motion back, and it'll be hard, but it's something that you really have to work on…"
The rest is just stuff that Murphy knows Connor would remember if he were here, but can't be bothered to absorb properly himself. A woman comes in a few minutes after that, and coaches him through some simple but excruciatingly painful exercises, before handing him a sheet with them printed on it.
Murphy is left alone in the room after that, and he's not sure what to do.
He runs a shaking hand up and down both of his legs, feeling his body protest in pain, and then moves the bed down slowly with the electronic controls. His wheelchair is still within reach, so he attempts to transfer into it, but he has to be extra careful with his braced leg. It bends slightly again, no longer locked in place, and he lets out a cry, ducking his head even though the room is empty.
He manages though, and decides that he just wants to get the hell out of the hospital.
The corridors are mostly empty as he wheels through them, the sheet of exercises crumpled between one leg and the chair, and his eyes are burning with unshed tears. He finds his brother in one of the lobbies gesturing wildly at a nurse, his voice rising higher and higher.
"Connor." His brother stops immediately the minute he hears Murphy's voice, and he drops to his knees with what looks like relief.
"Murph. I didn't know where ye were." There's a few beats of silence where Connor is looking at the tears in his eyes, and the absence of his cast, and taking stock of everything. Murphy doesn't move as Connor quickly stands and twists the wheelchair around with a quick flick of his hand. He speaks to the shell-shocked nurse then, already moving away, "Ye can jus' ring our Ma with anythin' else tha' ye need. Ta."
His brother doesn't stop pushing him until they get outside of the hospital walls, but Murphy is too tired to even protest.
"An bhfuil tu ceart go leor?" Are you okay?
He nods slowly, and hands Connor the crumpled list of exercises as some sort of explanation. His brother reads them quickly, following Murphy when he starts to make his way back to the car, "I'm fine, Connor… Jus' tired, that's all."
A hand lands on his shoulder, and he looks up to see Connor grinning down at him, "Let's get home then."
.
I hope this chapter was okay! I wrote this kind of from personal experience, when Murphy is freaking out about getting his brace and cast off, and I tried to make it as realistic as I could. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter. All the reviews are absolutely amazing, and really appreciated!
Review…?
Thanks for reading,
ArmedWithMyComputer cc