Half a man

1- Birthday

Today was the 1st of June. Tom was turning 25. His mother had set up a garden party for him, gathering his closest friends and relatives. This should have been a day he'd feel like he was at the top of the world. Hollywood's golden boy, about to start the press tour for his 3rd Spider-Man movie. This should have been a day he'd spend playing with his dog Tessa in the garden, messing around with his brothers and cousins or bragging about how brilliant was the new movie. This should have been a day spent laughing, living the dream.

But as Tom looked at his reflection in the mirror, all he could think about was when he'd be able to go back to bed. Away from the world. Away from their pitying eyes.

Sam, Harry and Harrison, his twin brothers and his best friend, were in his bedroom with him in his Londonian flat.

-- Just try it on, said Haz for the third time.

Tom glared at the tuxedo on his bed. One of Harrison's friend had it tailored to fit him. His arm. Or the lack of it.

-- It's just a stupid garden party, growled Tom. Why do I have to dress up?

-- It's your birthday mate, sighed his friend. Come on, humour us.

Sam nodded encouragingly so Tom took off his t-shirt. He was just starting to be able to undress on his own. Dressing up was still challenging. Hence why he spend his days in baggy sweatpants and t-shirt.

-- Maybe you should take a shower first, said Harry wrinkling his nose.

-- I'm good.

-- You stink Tom.

-- I don't care.

Which was true. Since he had been released from the hospital, where he was hand washed, he refused any help. This was too humiliating and he didn't felt like he was worth the time and care of a nurse. But showering with one hand was hard, so he didn't. Unless his mother forced him too. Then it was just easier to obey than to fight against her...

-- I'm gonna call Mum, warned Sam as if he heard his thoughts.

-- Fine, fine, Tom grunted. But don't blame me if we are late.

He went to the bathroom and shut the door loudly. He undid the waistband lace of his oversized pants and wriggled out of it. They used to be the right size, but not anymore. He didn't bothered wearing underwear.

He entered the shower and turned the water on with his valid hand. The jet was cold when it hit him and he jerked, slipped and fell back on his butt. His head hit the wall and it flashed a jolt of pain through his body. As if he needed more. The shock brought back the memory of that day.

The day.

It was the first Tuesday of January. Tuesdays were always a big stunt days on the set of Uncharted. Tom had insisted so much to do this one that the stunt Coordinator had gave in and allowed him. It was risky, but Tom loved the thrill. Stupid.

He still remembered the moment he understood it was going to end badly for him. Ths split second were the cables tangled and his trajectory went completely out of the path. He could hear the voices of the stunt crew screaming, feel the tug on the wires, but it was too late. Then, he mostly just remembered pain and the enormous weight on the left side of his body. He had crashed on the decor and the whole thing had collapsed on him...

Right now, his pain level was as high as it had been in the ambulance. The image of his left arm, or what used to be his arm, was imprinted forever in his memory. Just a smashed mess of flesh, bones and blood the paramedic had tried to fold up in a sterile gaze. They probably already knew he was going to lose it...