Breaking Away

Eleven

Niall lowers himself down steadily, ignoring the ache in his arms and stomach as he pushes himself further and harder. He's on week twelve now, and everyone keeps telling him how well he's progressing; he's been able to move his legs slightly on command, been having horrible pins and needles sensations from his toes to his lower back, been trying his best in physical therapy, pushing himself to the limit. It doesn't feel like enough, though. He knows he needs to have patience, but he just wants to walk already, to run and do all the things he used to be able to do.

His hands are blistered, wrapped in bandages as he uses the two armrests to lift himself from the seat and then lower himself again whilst Tom watches, his arms beginning to weaken a little, elbows threatening to buckle. Tom says that once he gains more mobility in his legs, they can start working on his balance alongside his strength, and he's looking forward to that because at least it'll be something different to do.

He attempts to lift himself again, hands throbbing, but his arms give out on him when he's barely off the seat.

Tom smiles at him. "How about we finish up here for today, squirt? Don't want you pulling anything."

Niall shakes his head, looking up at the man with pleading eyes. "No, Tom, I can keep on going. Five more minutes?" He asks, because sure, he wants to stop, but he also wants to keep going.

He's got a little more hope now, and even though everyone keeps telling him he can't rush this whole thing, he figures he can at least speed things along a little by not giving up so easily.

The man sighs, crouching down in front of the chair so that he's eye to eye with Niall. "Kiddo, you said that five minutes ago. You've pushed yourself enough for one day, we'll come back to it tomorrow," he states, bumping his knuckles gently against Niall's shoulder. He smiles encouragingly. "You did good."

Niall manages a weak smile at that, letting out a tired breath and nodding. "Okay."

He waits as Tom pushes his chair over, transferring himself across into the seat and settling himself into it, shifting until he's comfortable. Tom stands behind him and he frowns, twisting his neck to peer at him.

"I can push myself," he says, determined.

Tom looks surprised, but holds his hands up as if in mercy. "Alright, little dude. Go for it," he says with a chuckle, moving ahead instead and opening the door, holding it back for Niall to pass through and then falling into step beside the chair as they make their way toward the elevator.

"You know," Tom begins, once the elevator doors are closed and they begin moving upwards, "maybe it'd do you good to get a day of leave from this place. You could speak to your parents about it, maybe go out for dinner or take a day at the beach or something —"

Niall shakes his head. He still hasn't gone any further than the hospital garden and he doesn't plan to until he's out of the chair. "No, that's okay. I'm good here."

Tom purses his lips, frowning at him. "Hm. I just think it might do you good to take a break from this place, even if it's just for a couple hours. Maybe try focusing on something other than just physio."

The doors open and Niall wheels himself out, glancing up at the man and then shaking his head again. "I already have other stuff to focus on. I've got schoolwork with Papa and therapy with Bec. I don't need anything else."

"Okay. If you say so," Tom says, leading the way back down the hall toward his and Jason's room, looking over his shoulder at Niall with a shrug. "It's always something worth thinking about though, don't you think?"

Tom holds open the door to his room for Niall to wheel himself in, Niall looking up at him all the while and frowning.

"I'm good. I'm seeing you at ten tomorrow, right?" He asks.