Chapter 9 – Recovery

"Come on, just another ten seconds, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one . . . Okay, now switch to the left leg."

Charlie lay there panting, having just finished a full minute of a supine hamstring stretch on his right leg. When they'd started this back in October, Ted had him start at half a minute. Now, they were in December, and Bella had informed him that Charlie could begin more intensive physical therapy and put even more pressure on his knee, which meant after the Christmas break was over, Charlie could be back on the ice by January to practice with the team, and potentially play at the end of that month.

Though Ted wondered if he was making Charlie resent him all over again.

Today was the day Ted began making him do more intensive exercises. Based on the glare on Charlie's face, the kid was starting to hate his J.V. coach for this. Sweat had begun beading on his forehead as he lay there, glaring up at him. And they'd only just started. They were downstairs in the basement, which contained not only the pull-out sofa and an extra television but also a lot of Ted's at-home gym equipment like a treadmill, elliptical, weights, spare ice skates, hockey sticks, and exercise bike. He even had a heavy punching bag and boxing gloves, as he'd taken up boxing and taekwondo in his months after the car accident, and he didn't tell Charlie yet, but once Charlie's knee healed, Ted wanted to take him to the gym he went to for a free trial at one of his classes; he thought maybe if Charlie took that up, it would help him further, but Ted wasn't going to pressure him into it if it was something he didn't want. The boy was relieved when Ted told Charlie that he and Bella would be in charge of Charlie's physical therapy and that it could be done at the house.

But Ted also knew that the kid had his own set of fears about this. For one, the last time Ted tried pushing him, Charlie didn't react well to it at all. In fact, he'd been filled with resentment and resistance toward any change. Now, the kid couldn't afford to resist change because he wanted so badly to recover and get back into hockey again. Ted could imagine that Charlie was scared of what he'd make him do, especially since today was the day that they'd begin something more intense than the kid was used to. But Ted also knew Charlie would never get better if he settled into being content with the easy stuff.

"I know you hate this, but it's necessary."

Charlie shot him another dirty look but otherwise did as he was told. Ted couldn't decide if he preferred the silent treatment or the kid giving him backtalk and yelling at him like he did last September when Ted tried to get him to play two-way hockey.

Ted decided this was worse. Charlie's facial expressions could scream louder than any spoken word. Even when Charlie wasn't saying anything, he still managed to yell at him.

Charlie lifted his leg before bringing his left knee down toward his chest.

"All right, straighten it out now, come on." Ted grabbed his leg to incentivize him, and Charlie groaned as his leg was pushed back toward his head. Based on how the kid gritted his teeth, Ted could tell Charlie wasn't breathing through it. "Come on, I wanna hear you breathe through it. You know how to breathe, in through your nose, out through your mouth."

Charlie shakily sucked in a breath before releasing it. "I can't do this."

"Yes, you can!" Ted said. "Come on, keep breathing, you're halfway there, you've got thirty seconds left, twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven . . ."

"I don't care! It hurts so bad."

"I know, just take it a second at a time. One foot in front of the other, don't overthink the number. Just breathe, go to your happy place."

Charlie nodded, closing his eyes as he kept breathing. When the final seconds came, he allowed his leg to lower as he gasped in relief. But Ted wasn't going to have him stop there.

"All right, come on, up on your feet, we're going to do your squats. We're gonna go for heavy resistance this time." Ted grabbed Charlie's hand and pulled him up, getting the heavy resistance band on him.

"How many?" Charlie asked, looking like he was particularly dreading this.

"Let's not worry about a number. Just do them for sixty seconds and pace yourself, but don't stop. And don't count it, either. And we'll add weights to it, too; let's do it with ten-pound ones. Remember, keep the weights up to your shoulders so you have strength in the upper arms and shoulders."

Charlie sighed as Ted handed him the weights before resetting his timer.

"All right, sixty seconds starts now."

Ted watched the kid like a hawk as he did half squats, which were more challenging due to the weights and the band. But looking at the kid, he decided Charlie could do more than that. "Actually, give me full squats; see if you can go lower to the floor. Keep your back straight, knees over your toes."

That was a struggle for the boy. This was the first time Ted had challenged him to do full squats with this added strain, and he could see the kid breaking out in a sweat as he gasped, trying to breathe through it. "I can't do it," Charlie grunted.

"Yes, you can," Ted barked at him. "I don't want to hear, 'I can't.' Just keep going. Are you feeling the strain near your knee? Your hamstrings? Your calves?"

"Everywhere," Charlie groaned, but otherwise kept going, even though he looked like he wanted nothing more than to stop.

"Good."

"How is that good?" Charlie glowered at him, clenching his teeth and grimacing.

"It means the strength is building back up. Come on, keep the weights up and resist harder. Push it. You're at forty-five seconds; you're nearly halfway there."

"Gahh!" Ted could see the tears threatening to fill Charlie's eyes. He walked over to him and began to do the squats with him.

"Take it nice and easy; don't try to rush it. The more you rush it, the worse it's gonna get. Build it up slowly; don't worry about reaching a number. But also don't stop, either."

"I want water."

"You can have some after this. Just keep going; you're almost there. Don't settle for just being good enough; do more than you think you can. I don't wanna see you settle for anything, not when I know you're able to do more."

Charlie grunted again, going even lower to the ground before shakily rising up again. Seeing the kid still had doubts, Ted's voice rose to a yell. "Come on! Don't stop!" When he saw the tears spilling down the boy's face, mixing with the sweat, he said, "Keep breathing. You're almost done. Twenty seconds left, come on."

Charlie shook his head, to which Ted snapped, "No, no, no! Don't stop now, come on, ten more seconds, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one!"

The moment the timer went off, Charlie gasped painfully. He nearly kneeled over as he dropped the weights, his hands going to his knees.

"Walk it off, come on, straighten up, hands over your head, take full deep breaths in and out. You won't get the full breath in if you kneel over like that."

He watched critically as the kid nodded, though with a hint of resentment, as he straightened his posture, put his arms behind his head, and walked around, inhaling and exhaling slowly. When the kid finally caught his breath, Ted had him sit down and handed him a cold bottle of water.

"Small sips, don't chug it down."

Charlie nodded, slowly sipping the water as he panted, rubbing his knee. Ted watched critically as the kid sat there, still breathing heavily as he drank more water. While Ted knew this was an essential step forward in Charlie's recovery, he did worry that it would lead to him and Charlie taking a step back, that they'd revert right back to how they were a year ago, with Charlie unwilling to trust him.

"Good job," Ted told him. "That was good. Next, we're gonna have you jump up and gradually go higher because you need to land down and put more pressure on it."

"Can't that wait until tomorrow?" Charlie asked as Ted had him stand up and pull back into a quad stretch for his left leg.

"No, we've got to get this done today. You owe me a half hour of this. And so far, we've done three out of thirty minutes."

Charlie groaned and rolled his eyes but otherwise pulled his knee back to stretch his quad out.

"See if you can hold it with both hands to get more of a stretch in," Ted suggested, watching as Charlie took him up on that, though the kid still had issues with balancing on one leg. "Focus on one point in the room that's not moving. Keep your eyes straight on it and look forward."

Charlie nodded silently, and after a couple of more seconds, Ted had him lower his leg down.

"Good. Now, let's get to work on your jumps." He steered the kid over to the jumping trainers, the lowest starting at twenty inches, the highest all the way up to thirty. "We're gonna gradually go up to thirty inches. For now, give me ten on the twenty-inch one. Tomorrow, we'll go up to twenty-four. And then we'll go up to thirty. After you do ten of these, we'll do ten ball throws and ten more jumps. We'll alternate them for the next fifteen minutes." Ted walked around and stood up on the twenty-inch block, extending his hands out to Charlie, who grabbed hold of them. "Go all the way down to the floor, squat all the way down, and use the momentum to push yourself off the ground."

"Okay."

"Don't worry, I've got you. You're not gonna fall."

Charlie sighed, squatting as low to the ground as he could tolerate, not that the kid needed to go too low to the floor, anyway, given the block was only twenty inches off the ground.

"All right, now use that and push yourself up. Jump upward toward here and land down," Ted instructed, watching as Charlie hesitantly leaped upward, his feet nearly missing the step and slipping underneath him. Had it not been for Ted having a firm grip on his hands, he probably would've fallen over. He watched as Charlie jumped back down, landing in a squat.

"Come on, do it again. You've got nine more to go."

"I can't do this."

"Yes, you can. Look at me," Ted demanded, watching as Charlie hesitantly glanced up, expecting to see anger or disappointment in Ted's gaze. But what Ted said next seemed to surprise him. "Do you honestly think I'd make you do something I know you can't do? Do you think I intend to set you up to fail?"

Charlie seemed to need to think about how he'd answer. Ted knew that for the past few months, the kid's self-esteem had plummeted due to what had happened to him for seven months straight. But he knew now was the time for Charlie to intensify his physical therapy so he could get back into hockey. Still, he knew that Charlie had been through seven months of pure hell on earth; if he wasn't getting drugged into oblivion, he was getting the living crap beaten out of him for doing even the littlest thing wrong. Ted could understand how, for Charlie, there were moments when physical therapy felt like punishment. He saw how Charlie's eyes reddened and started misting, the sure sign that the kid was near tears from a plethora of things: pain, frustration, depression, anxiety, anger – he was shocked that the kid had gone through months and months of not once having a panic attack; most of Charlie's anxiety and depression came through at night when he was asleep, when he was sure that nobody would know that he cried himself to sleep, but Ted wouldn't admit to the kid that there were nights when he got up in the middle of the night to check on him, Hans, and Lucy, and he would hear Charlie sobbing quietly to himself after coming out of some nightmare. Part of him wondered if he should tell Gordon that he should resume sleeping with Charlie again, but Ted also understood that Charlie would never fully cope with anything if he kept sharing a bed with Gordon every night. Plus, he knew Charlie was sick of being treated like a five-year-old.

Sighing, Ted moved and sat down in front of the kid until they were at eye level, and Charlie no longer had to glance up at him. This wasn't Ted's area of expertise. He wasn't one to talk about feelings. But he knew that for Charlie, bottling up what he felt wasn't healthy, considering he was still dealing with months of trauma from seven months of abuse.

"Listen, I'd never make you do what I know you aren't capable of," Ted said firmly. "This isn't to punish you. I would never do anything to make you look or feel stupid. This isn't a beatdown. I know that you know, after all these months, I'll tell you the truth. I really believe that you can do this. It's not like I'm asking you to suddenly jump thirty inches high or go all the way up to sixty."

Charlie said nothing in return. In fact, he glanced down as the tears fell from his eyes.

"Talk to me. Tell me what's the matter," Ted whispered. "Are you scared?"

Charlie nodded. He mumbled so quietly that Ted had to strain to hear him say, "I wanna get better. I'm scared of screwing up."

"You're not gonna screw up," Ted said. "I'm not gonna let you fail. What else is there?"

Apart from Charlie's sniffles, more silence followed as he pretended to take an interest in his feet. Ted hadn't anticipated this needing to turn into a therapy session since Charlie had his licensed therapist he spoke to once a week. But he supposed the only way Charlie would feel motivated to get better physically was if he opened up more about what was bothering him.

Ted realized that physical therapy right now wasn't a priority. What Charlie needed was a friend. Ted contemplated going upstairs to get Gordon. But then he remembered he'd been the one in charge of Charlie's care since he came home. This was something he needed to do.

Finally, Charlie mumbled, "You don't know that."

"What don't I know?"

"That my nickname back in Peewees was 'Spazzway.' It was almost expected I'd screw up all the time." Charlie's face turned bright red at this. "I hadn't had to deal with that in years. But after . . . you know, this happened, after what he did to me, I just . . . I couldn't fight back; if I did, he'd . . . he didn't take that well. At all. But then he'd yell at me and dare me to fight him back. I was screwed no matter what I did; nothing I ever did was right. I guess he decided to kill me that night because he got bored of me being his punching bag; it got to a point where I just gave up hope that anybody would help me. And for a moment, I didn't care if I died; I just wanted it to stop." Somehow, the kid blushed even deeper, more tears rolling down his face as his shoulders started to shake.

Ted sighed in sympathy. He couldn't help feeling for the kid. The fact that the kid got punished for absolutely no good reason at all disturbed Ted more than he'd admit to anyone. And he also hated that Charlie's father had made him feel like a worthless screwup, someone who would never be good enough; somehow, that thought infuriated him most because he knew it wasn't true.

"Look at me," Ted demanded, fighting hard to keep the anger out of his voice. He didn't want Charlie to think that he was mad at him; that was far from the case. He was furious at the whole situation.

Charlie shook his head, crying a little harder.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," Ted snapped and winced at how aggressive he sounded, but he needed to get the kid's attention.

That seemed to do it, but Charlie glanced up at him, his eyes revealing nothing but fear.

"Listen," Ted said, fighting hard not to sound angry, but he couldn't help it. He could hear his tone shifting into the demanding bark that he'd used with Charlie at the start of the previous school year, the tone that had made Charlie resent him and run away, but he knew he would keep Charlie's attention long enough to listen to what he had to say.

"I am not going to let you have that opinion of yourself because of what some asshole said and did to you. Okay? I may not know everything that he did, but I do know this: he made you feel like you aren't good enough. Over my dead body, you're not good enough," Ted said.

Tears rolling down his face, Charlie said, "So, what the hell am I supposed to do?"

"I'm going to tell you what you're going to do. You're gonna recover no matter what, and anybody who's ever doubted you, you'll show them what a mistake they made. And by that, I mean for not only you. I mean for every disadvantaged, fatherless kid out there who comes after you. Then maybe people will think twice about underestimating you. Do not let him win by rolling over and giving up, and do not convince yourself that you don't deserve a second chance because that is exactly what you're getting, and not everybody gets that. You have an opportunity to be a better man than him, and I damn well know that in the future, you're gonna be more of a man, husband, and father than he could have ever been on his best day."

Ted had to take a breath to calm himself. He'd wanted to say that for months, knowing Charlie had needed to hear that. Looking at the kid, he could see the boy still doubted what he was saying; the apprehension was still very much present. So, Ted continued.

"Don't settle for second best," Ted said. "Okay? I know damn well that there's nothing average about you. You proved that in your summer homework, you got the grades to pass your freshman year because you earned it. So, for the love of God, Conway, show me some confidence even if you end up failing. Don't be afraid of failure, and don't be afraid of not having any control. Ever. Ever! That is how you get past this injury. And that is also how you play real defense." He squeezed at Charlie's hands gently before tugging the boy forward, and Charlie used that to pull himself forward, except what he did next surprised Ted.

He felt the boy's arms wrap around him tightly, and Ted didn't hesitate to return the hug. He cupped the back of Charlie's head in his hand while his other rubbed the boy's back, and he felt hot tears hit his neck as Charlie silently cried. After several moments, he heard Charlie say, "Thanks, Coach."

"You're welcome." Ted pulled away, holding the boy by the shoulders. "Now, come on. Here's what you're going to do: you're going to dry your eyes, take a breath, and go for it again. Just trust me. Okay? How about we try this? You give me five percent more. Jump up five times, take a breather, and then do another five until you do all ten. Can you do that?"

Charlie nodded, drying his eyes before grabbing hold of Ted's hands again, and Ted resumed his position back on the block. He watched as the boy swallowed the tears back and jumped up again, this time landing a little more solidly on the surface.

"Good, Charlie, good. Give me three more. Let's go."

They continued until Charlie did five. After the fifth one, he sank to the ground and took a few breaths before doing five more. Afterward, they alternated throwing the medicine ball back and forth, with Charlie taking the same approach: five percent – it made him far less intimidated than needing to worry about completing all ten at once. They did ten throws before alternating back to jumping and carried this on for fifteen more minutes. By the time they finished, Charlie had managed to do a total of thirty rounds with the medicine ball and twenty jumps up and down. They finished it off with Charlie being allowed to stretch for the remaining fifteen minutes.

"Good job today," Ted said, watching Charlie resume stretching his hamstring. "You did well."

"Thanks, Coach."

"Keep that up, and you'll be back to skating with the team after the holidays. Trust me. I know you'll be ready."

I really wanted to do a modified version of Orion's confidence speech, and a lot of the things I had featured in the physical therapy is stuff that I do in taekwondo at least three times a week, and my red belt test is right around the corner, which means it's going to be by far the most stressful belt test I'll ever face, and it'll only get harder from there since I keep going up in belt rank. But Orion's speech from D3 is something that tends to stick with me.