Two days later, Adolin was sized for a prosthetic leg. It would be another week or so until it was ready, but Adolin could not wait to start learning how to use it.

Before that, however, he was...well, he was heading home. The afternoon of the very day he was sized, Adolin packed his things and wheeled himself down to the lobby. His father followed, Adolin's duffel over one shoulder.

"I don't mind pushing you, Adolin..."

He shook his head, determinedly wheeling himself forward. It was brand new, having been purchased for Adolin after the accident. It had arrived two days before, and Dalinar had brought it with him when he came to pick Adolin up. The blond was determined to be self-sufficient, and propelling himself in the chair was one way to do that.

"Leaving so soon?"

Grinning, Adolin turned to greet Kaladin. The nurse was dressed in light blue scrubs...printed in tiny Simbas and Nalas. Adolin could not help but feel that it was intentional.

"Places to be, other beds to lay in."

Kaladin quirked a brow, but otherwise did not respond.

"Here," curious, Adolin leaned forward and accepted the piece of paper being offered to him, "that's my number. Call me if you need any help."

"...sure, yeah. Thanks."

Kaladin nodded, then strode off. Adolin watched him go for a moment, then turned back.

"Where'd you park?"

"Wait out front. I'll bring the car around."

Adolin bit back a sigh. He could take care of himself. Shit like this was exactly why he was working so hard with Kaladin. He would be visiting three times a week for the next few months, and he could not bring himself to mind. Kaladin was going to continue acting as his instructor, and that was only one reason to look forward to it.

"I can make it," he said, determined.

Dalinar met his eyes for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. It's over here," he said, gesturing. Satisfied, Adolin followed.

With his father's help, Adolin was transferred into the passenger's seat. He settled in, flicking through his phone, while Dalinar collapsed the chair.

"We've moved some of your things from your house to mine for now. You can stay at home until you're back on yo—until you feel up to living on your own again."

Adolin snorted. "Until I'm back on my feet?"

"You know I didn't mean it like that."

He rolled his eyes, not really angry. "It's fine. I appreciate your help, Father. Were's Renarin?"

"Writing his last exam. He'll be home for supper."

Good. Adolin was looking forward to seeing his little brother again. Loathe as he was to move back in with his father and brother, he wasn't quite arrogant enough to think he could manage on his own, yet.

Yet. He would get there.

Adolin loved his family, he really did...but living at home again was awful. Dalinar was a rather...particular man, and his sons were expected to adhere to a certain standard of living. At home, Adolin, while not exactly a slob, was certainly no neat-freak. In short: his own standard of living was not up to his father's, and it created tension when they were under the same roof.

Couple the nitpicking with the fussing and Adolin found himself feeling trapped. Dalinar had hired a nurse to look after him, and that further frustrated Adolin, who liked to do things for himself. Being doted on night and day did not suit him. The past two days, since coming home, had almost made him miss the hospital.

Hobbling to the stairs, he tried to conceal a wince when his caretaker popped her head up from the bottom of the stairs. The house was large, but she always heard him...

"Adolin? You need a hand?" She was already coming up.

He scrambled for an excuse. "Just working on my balance. I'll be fine."

"Okay. Just let me know if you need anything! And don't you dare try those stairs on your own."

He didn't hide his sigh. Instead of replying, he turned and hobbled back to his room. He despised this doting.

The house he was living in was huge, but he had never felt so trapped.

Dropping onto his bed, the same one he had used growing up, he propped up his one remaining leg and leaned back against the headboard. Maybe someone would be free to...do something, anything...

One phone call and three text conversations later, and he had plans for the following day, but that still left him...completely, utterly bored for the moment.

Before he could rethink what he was doing, he picked up the phone and called Kaladin.

"'Lo?" a sleepy voice asked, picking up after a full seven rings.

Adolin winced. "Sorry, did I wake you up?"

"...sure did. The hell time is it?"

"Three in the afternoon."

"Huh. Three hours of sleep. New record." There was a sharp, cranky note to Kaladin's tone. Adolin ignored it.

"You have your days off now?"

"What the hell—? I mean, yeah, but why?"

"Let's do something."

"...your physio was today. I'll see you in three days."

"What, we can't hang out outside the hospital?"

"...what do you want, Kholin? I'm tired and pissed off."

"Let's get out and do something." Kaladin grunted, not saying anything. Adolin gently prodded, "Kal?"

"Call me again in about four hours," the nurse muttered, then the line went dead.

Adolin grinned to himself. That was enough of a victory for him.

Adolin waited four and a half, engrossing himself in a book. Despite the additional time, there was no answer when he picked up the landline and called back. With a sigh, he stared at the phone for a minute before dropping it back to the holder. Maybe what he had thought to be a victory was no victory at all. Clearly, Kaladin was not actually interested in hanging out.

...well, Adolin could not blame him for that, could he? They weren't exactly friends, this proved that, right? In fact, he should be bothering his own friends. If only they didn't have lives of their own.

With a sigh, he dragged himself over to his crutches. Pulling himself up, he carefully navigated the stairs. It had been long enough that his caretaker had gone home. His father popped out of the study, however, brow raised.

"Adolin? Is everything okay?"

"Looking for a snack," he replied offhandedly. "Might go outside for a bit."

"...okay. Of course. Let me know if you need anything?"

"Yup," he muttered.

To his relief, his wheelchair awaited him at the bottom. Leaning his crutches on the banister, he settled into it. Kaladin had not been kidding when he had warned that walking with the crutches would be a lot of work. He was excited for his prosthesis to come in, but at the same time, he was a little nervous. Walking with only one leg was hard on crutches...would it be harder on a fake leg? Kaladin warned him that adapting to using one was difficult. He wanted to do well...but Adolin hated failing.

After a solid ten minutes of rolling aimlessly around the ground floor of his father's house, Adolin finally parked by the television. He was in the process of transferring himself to the sofa when his phone started buzzing incessantly. Dropping back into the chair, he tugged the phone out, glancing at the screen.

...Kaladin?

"Hello?"

"Where are you?"

"Uh, at home?"

"Yeah, I get that. You coming out?"

"Uh, where?"

"You didn't see my texts, did you?"

"Uh..." Pulling the phone from his ear, he checked his notifications—sure enough, there were two missed texts from Kaladin. One from four minutes earlier, another from nearly twenty. The first stated that Kaladin was coming to pick him up, the second that he was outside. "Nope. Can't say I did."

"Figures. You coming out then or not?"

"Yeah. I mean...yeah. Just give me a few?"

"You've already had a few. Make it fast."

Adolin hung up, hurrying back to the stairs. He got himself up them as quickly as possible, then began fumbling to change. He had picked something out earlier, in case Kaladin had wanted to go out, and he pulled it on now, tying off the empty pant leg.

Grabbing his keys, phone, and wallet, he yelled a farewell to his father and clunked down the stairs. Stepping into his shoe, he stomped it on, leaning on his crutches as he did so, then hurried outside.

It was a bit of a hike down the driveway, to the house's gate. He was winded when he arrive, but eagerly buzzed himself out through the foot gate. Sure enough, Kaladin sat, flipping through his phone, in an older, but functional, blue Camry. He clumped his way to the car, greeting Kaladin with a grin when the man spotted him.

"Took you long enough," Kaladin remarked as Adolin opened the back door, tossing the crutches into the back, then he slid into the passenger seat.

"Next time you want to pick someone up, wait for a response."

Kaladin shrugged, putting the car in drive. It started smoothly enough, despite its age. "You seemed desperate enough earlier. Figured there was no chance you'd refuse."

"I'm not desperate," he countered, offended.

"Right. That's why you called me, all but begging to go out. That's why you nearly fell on your face trying to get to the car."

Adolin flushed slightly. He had hoped the man hadn't seen his stumble. Still, he huffed loudly. "For some reason, I thought I liked spending time with your grouchy ass. My mind is changing, though."

Kaladin smirked, staring ahead at the road. "I can take you home."

"Don't you dare..."

"Where are we going, anyway?"

"Dunno. Just driving?"

For a drive? Adolin could get behind that. He didn't have to walk, at least.

"I can't tell if your silence is good or bad."

"Let's just get McDonald's, first?"

Kaladin chuckled. "Right. Let's hit up a drive-thru."