“Don’t remind me. It’s sickening.” I should’ve just slept with the guy, then run away the minute any concept of marriage came up. Fuck love.
Ez dug in his medical bag, whipping out his notebook. “I’m glad you’re here, anyway. I think I’ve made some good progress on figuring out how we can mend your spine.”
My heart dropped. “Ez.”
“There’s all kinds of compelling research. Spinal injuries can be reversed. You just need the right kind of physical therapy, or the right medications?—”
“Ez.”
“I know you don’t want to, but there are experimental surgeries you can try…”
I reached out to place my hand over his, and my brother froze. “Ez. I’m never going to walk again. The Warden made sure of that.”
The look on his face… ancestors, I’d never forget it. It was struck by agonizing fear. “What are you talking about?”
“I mean...” I closed my eyes and took a breath. “We found notes on my surgery after I was hurt in the Infernal Underground. The doctors experimented on me when I was hurt. My magic was healing me, but the surgeons kept cutting my spine open to watch it heal, because they wanted to see what my powers were capable of. They could’ve let me heal properly, but they didn’t. They chose to use me as a guinea pig, and it caused permanent damage. Because my healing magic mended my spine wrong, there’s no fixing it. You can’t reverse a demigod’s power. It’s set like that for life.”
“No,” Ez whimpered. He began fumbling through his papers, shuffling through all his research. “This can’t be true. There has to be a way. We can fix you?—”
I grasped his wrist. “I don’t want to be fixed, Ez. There’s nothing wrong with me.”
His lip wobbled. “But… don’t you want to walk again?”
A familiar pang entered my heart, but it had long since dulled. “Sure. I’d love to. It would be great, wouldn’t it? But I’ve grown accustomed to this life.”
Ez started to cry. He was sensitive to a fault, and I’d struck him right in the heart. He wiped at his face and said, “Sorry, this is about you, not me. I’m making it all about myself?—”
“Oh, Ez, come here.” I wheeled to the couch, and he followed me. He sat down, and I pulled myself onto the cushions beside him. He sniffled, throwing an arm around my shoulders.
“I’m okay with how things are,” I insisted. “I’ve already grieved my old life. It’s okay for you to let go of the person I was, too. If you want me to give you permission to give up, I do.”
“I can’t give up.” His words wavered. “You’re bound to that chair. You can’t go anywhere without it.”
“My chair is a tool, not a prison. It doesn’t take anything away. It gives me my life back.” I wanted to make him understand, but it was hard, because he hadn’t lived this life. “I don’t have the same kind of life that I did before, but I’m still capable of so much. I need you to believe I can do anything, as much as I could when I was able to walk. I can’t stand you seeing me as lesser or inferior just because my legs don’t function. So many people doubt me because I can’t walk anymore, but I think I’ve proved to myself time and again that nothing and no one is going to slow me down, no matter what anyone thinks.”
“But how can you do anything if you can’t walk? You’re so limited. If you aren’t able to walk again, and you can’t get your legs back, what kind of life can you really live?”
“That’s what the world automatically believes when someone ends up in a wheelchair, and it’s wrong. It’s insulting and demeaning. Are you living an insignificant life because you have Combined Magical Suppression Syndrome? You’re disabled, too, and you’re letting the world give you internal biases against people who are just like you. Internalized ableism is still a thing, Ez. And I know you don’t believe these things deep down, even if they’re what’s been hammered into you by society.”
Ez cringed. “I mean… ouch. You do have a point there. But I don’t feel like it’s fair to compare our disabilities, because I think you have it worse off than me.”
“Bullshit, Ez. I have a harder time getting around, and I need a lot of help, but you’re sick every other damn day of the week. And don’t tell me Opal and our parents don’t have to help you out a lot, because I know that’s not true. You don’t have the energy to get by all on your own. Your energy needs are so demanding that you can’t live by yourself. They have to help you every day, even if it’s in small ways.”
Ez nodded. “You’re right. I’m mostly fine, but I only have so much to give. I had to take a month off of medical school last semester because I was so sick.”
“Exactly. If we were taking the same class I’d probably fly past you, because I have the ability to show up every day, and you don’t. That doesn’t mean you’re better off than me because you have the ability to beat me in a footrace.”
“Eh, not so sure about that one, either. I suck at running.” He laughed.
“You know what I mean.” I worried the point had gone over his head.
“I guess you don’t have to deal with the kind of stuff I deal with, and vice versa. Our struggles are the same, but different. I was in and out of the palace hospital all last month. It’s like when I go down, I stay down forever, and have a hard time getting back up.”
I knew I had some part in that. CMSS didn’t respond well to stress, and I was certain Ez had been anxious since Charlie had broken our bond. He’d been worried about me, and I hadn’t considered that.
“Maybe if some kind of miracle treatment comes along one day, I’d be interested. There are wearable exoskeletons that people like me can use to walk with. They’re making advancements in robotics every day, and who knows what magic will be able to do in the future. I’m not completely stuck.”
“But it’s not going to be the same as walking on your own,” he protested.
