FicWad

Chapter 2: Accommodation

Eventually they allowed, correction forced me to go to occupational and physical therapy. By "occupation" they meant the basics like cooking, household chores and dressing and caring for myself, by myself. Oh how the "nearly mighty" had fallen. One blessing was that they removed the offending catheter and taught me how to take care of that by myself. It was still humiliating in my opinion, but at least it was taken care of privately. Perhaps if I had thought of this as "different" and not "awful" it wouldn't have been so bad.

To compensate for my lost ability to walk the therapists worked on increasing my upper body strength which had diminished while I was immobile, restoring muscle mass and range of motion to the areas Lust had made hamburger out of and since they felt it was important, to keep moving and stretching my legs for me. I also learned how to use my new mode of transportation.

I awoke one morning to find "the Tank" in my room. A blessing and a curse at the same time really. I could use it to move around on my own, get where I needed to go, if there weren't any stairs I would later find out. But this also began my life with an "ass eye view". It might have been a welcome sight before, at least the attractive butts. I'd have been able to look at ideal female derrière specimens all day long without getting slapped. The huge flaw in all this was that now I was stuck sitting down, and if I did get up the nerve to talk to a pretty female it got tiresome to continually look up at the person I was speaking with. Undignified is how I'd describe it. Always looking up. I'd shrunk from over six feet tall to a little over four feet tall overnight. The Boss was taller than I was now.

After breakfast my therapist came to help me into the wheelchair. It was exhausting attempting to sit up, pull my legs one by one over the side of the bed using my arms, which had grown weak. Sitting up without falling over was difficult because I was dizzy after lying flat on my back for so long. Then I attempted to heave my body without falling to the floor, into a chair a mere twelve inches from the bed. It turns out it was MEANT to be an exercise in futility. My therapist caught me as I nearly planted my numb ass on the tile floor and put me back into bed. He gave me a moment to get myself together and said, "You're going to learn how to do this properly and then it won't be so hard." The lesson was learned and it eventually got easier. This demonstration made me a much more compliant patient when it came to therapy. He'd pegged me correctly as a stubborn bastard and this object lesson though harsh had been needed. Jim, my therapist and eventual savior, wheeled me down to the therapy room for my session. It was a relief that the view was no longer of the ceiling tiles in the hall, but of the happenings in the hospital. I had definitely needed a change of scenery.

*

After a grueling therapy session I wanted nothing more than to get back to my room and sulk, smoke and sleep. That was not possible as when we approached my room I discovered I had company. The aroma of apple pie told me it was Gracia. Elysia's chirrup announced the rest.

Gracia and Elysia's greetings were warm as usual and for the first time in what felt like ages I was addressed as a person, not a diagnosis. Elysia had even drawn me a "Get Well" picture. She let me know that Mommy had helped with the letters. I let her know that I'd keep it on my bedside table so everyone could see it. Gracia served us all a big wedge of pie, and had had the forethought to get coffee from the cafeteria to wash it down with. Leave it to Gracia to know my vices. We talked companionably about what everyone seemed to be up to, Elysia's latest accomplishments and of course Maes.

I felt I owed it to Gracia to be sociable since she and Maes had always been so kind to us "Military Dogs". After we finished our pie Elysia climbed into my lap. It was the closest and most unaffected human contact I'd had since the accident. Gracia looked a little worried that Elysia might hurt me somehow, but I smiled letting her know it was safe. I felt myself misting up, but composed myself as Elysia settled on my lap and nuzzled into my chest to tell me about her latest tea party. I must have visibly relaxed with her contact. A flash of an idea came across Gracia's face, and she excused herself, presumably to clean up our dishes. Elysia had brought her crayons, and asked if I wanted to join her in coloring. I thought to myself, why not? I was being taken care of like a child. I may as well color. Besides, Maes had been right in his manic picture sharing. That vision of cuteness could make anything seem better.

Gracia came back to the room after we'd both nearly finished our drawings and sat down next to Elysia and myself. We showed off our masterpieces. I had drawn a picture of Roy buried under a pile of paperwork with Riza looking at him with a menacing expression. Well, as menacing as a stick figure can look. Art would not be my new occupation. Elysia had drawn her house and a garden full of flowers and while describing it said, "Jean, you should come visit! It really is that pretty!"

Gracia cleared her throat and said, "Speaking of our house, and the garden Jean, while I was out, I hope you don't mind... I called Roy. We discussed where you'd be going when you get out. I'm sorry."

I looked at her rather crossly, but let her continue. How dare she plan the affairs of a grown man?

"Hear me out Jean, Roy and Riza and everyone really, think that you should stay in Central with Elysia and myself until you finish all your outpatient therapy. Going to the East before you are fully recovered won't do you any good. After that you can do what you wish."

I scoffed when she said, "Recovered".

"Gracia, I'm not going to BE recovered. This is it. This is all there is for me. Me sitting wherever, and doing not much at all. This is my reality, we all just have to get used to it." I said in the calmest tone I could muster so I would not scare Elysia who was still in my lap.

"Jean, be sensible", Gracia said. "You might not get any sensation back but you CAN learn to function to your optimum and wouldn't you rather be in the city where there is better medical supervision and therapy? What about your friends? They'll visit when they can. Roy is also concerned about your safety. Whoever did this to Maes did this to you, that much he would tell me. The Military is not providing security for you after you are released, but my house is under twenty-four-hour surveillance. Besides, since Maes... the house is so big."

I looked at her; my gaze softened a little, as I think I had been boring a hole straight through her, to the wall.

"Gracia, I don't want to be a burden on you. I don't know what I can and cannot do for myself. I'd just be another mouth to feed, another 'child' to care for. I don't want that."

"Jean, we have a guest room on the first floor, I cook more than enough food to feed Roy's whole crew and it just goes to waste. As for care, you know you'll have a pension and if it comes to that you can hire a nurse to come for the 'burdensome' stuff. I want the company, Elysia adores you and I'm sure you will pull babysitting duty and could dry dishes once in awhile. Besides, I'll be charging you rent to keep it on the up and up on your conscience. I've been thinking about taking on a boarder to help fill the house up anyway. I can't think of anyone I'd trust more than one of Maes' friends."

I thought her words over, and again nearly cried. What was going on with me? Perhaps Lust had poisoned me as well. I'd gone from sarcastic and devil-may-care to an emotional wreck in a matter of weeks.

"Gracia, I am touched, but I will have to think about it. Princess Elysia, I will see you again soon and we will have to color. Gracia, bring pie!" I said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.

With that, Elysia hopped off of my lap and Gracia and Elysia left the room. I dragged myself into bed and broke down in tears for the first time since I'd hit double digits. I sobbed until my breath came in wracking gasps and my eyes were raw and dry. The offer they extended was so tempting, but I was sure it came from pity. I'd felt human and normal with Gracia and Elysia, Elysia especially. She treated me no differently than she had before. Either she didn't understand or wasn't aware. Either way she was the first person I'd felt completely myself with since the accident. Exhausted I fell into a fitful sleep.

*

Somewhere in the middle of the night I heard a familiar clanking noise. I opened my eyes and was greeted by Alphonse Elric. I was certainly confused. Life in the military had gone on without me and I was uncertain on the Fullmetal's whereabouts, but I was pretty sure that the Brothers Elric were not supposed to be in Central.

"Al, what are you doing here? Is the Boss ok?"

Al sounded like he was clearing his throat, actually, he sounded nervous, if a suit of armor could sound nervous and said, "Oh, Brother was just being Brother and he got a little carried away on a mission. He'll be fine if Winry doesn't kill him."

I chuckled a little and said, "Ah, so it's the wrench for him? No worries, it's only his head. He's survived more. What are you doing here, how did you know?"

Apparently word of the fall of Jean Havoc had traveled far and wide. But for some reason, Al was a comforting presence. I knew the kid didn't sleep, and as I was now wide-awake, I didn't want to either. Since the Boss was asleep I invited Alphonse to stay and chat for a while. He informed me of all he knew about what was happening. The wonderful thing about Alphonse was that people didn't often see him as a threat, even if he was a 7-foot tall suit of armor. So he faded into the background. This made him an excellent source of intelligence. I pumped his brain as politely as I could for any gossip on myself. He knew what I was doing, but didn't seem to mind and volunteered all the information he had obtained. The description of "poor bastard" had come up in the barracks and mess, and he gave it to me straight. I had suspected that would be my new moniker anyway.

He shared Ed's latest exploits and temper tantrums and those were good for comic relief. Again, I felt almost normal. Maybe this new existence could be bearable. Then I had a brilliant idea.

"Hey, Al, I am dying for a cigarette and I need to just get out of here without proper supervision, want to go up to the roof? We could go look at the stars and I think I remember an elevator somewhere on this floor. If anyone catches us just make like official military and we can bluff our way out of it."

So off we went, Al for a night that wouldn't seem quite so long and me for my cigarette fix and a change of scenery.

I showed off my new mobility skills transferring into my wheelchair that I had dubbed "the Tank" as it was heavy and difficult to maneuver. Al looked as impressed as a suit of armor could and said, "Lieutenant Havoc, you seem to be making some progress. I had heard that you couldn't even sit up by yourself... um, err... oops, I mean I had heard that you had been really badly hurt."

We made it to the elevator without incident and I had to stretch to reach the button for roof access but eventually got it. When the door opened, my hopes of freedom and a contraband cigarette began to fade. I looked at Al and said, "Back in the room, what you said, it's ok, you don't need to be careful about what you say around me. You can say it, and call me Jean. I'm pretty pitiful right now, worse before. It's all good. Unfortunately it looks like this is the end of the road for me, there are stairs, you go on ahead."

Al pondered my statement and slowly said, "Jean, I don't know if this would bother you, but back in Risembool, right after you know, I used to carry Brother out into the fields so we could see the stars. I wouldn't tell anyone, it could be our secret, like this 'mission'."

I could have sworn that Al winked. I thought it over and agreed. I hadn't been outside in un-sanitized air in almost two months and I was beginning to get stir crazy. This was my chance to rebel just a little and I knew I could trust Al with my weaker moments.

"Ok Al, just do not drop me, I'm already messed up enough." I laughed. The gallows humor would save face for me yet.

He gingerly picked me up supporting me behind the shoulders and under the knees and carried me up the short flight of stairs to the roof. He then found a small wall to prop me up against. Al really thought of everything without needing to be told. We started out just gazing at the stars. The lights of Central blotted out some of them, but they were still a sight for sore eyes. They were quite welcome after the sea of white and surgical scrub green I'd existed in for what had come to seem like eternity.

Finally Al spoke up. "Lieutenant, um Jean, I know that you don't need or want people taking care of you, or making decisions for you, but when Gracia came to visit Ed she let us know about what had happened and what she had proposed. She and the Colonel aren't doing this out of pity, and the Colonel certainly isn't doing this to control you. Brother may say that the Colonel is a manipulative bastard, but even he admits that the Colonel has the best interests of his team at heart. You should think Gracia's offer over. Well, that and we could visit you more here than we could in the East, and Ed says you could have pie all the time. He said that would be the best part about living with Gracia and Elysia. You know Brother, always thinking with his stomach."

We sat in silence for a while. I really couldn't get mad at the kid. He'd spoken from what seemed like true compassion and I'd always marveled at what he picked up on. Al was unusually perceptive and I knew Hawkeye often trusted his powers of observation. His words caused me conflict because what I really wanted to do was push everyone I knew away so they wouldn't see what I had become. However, allowing Al to see my vulnerabilities hadn't been as bad as I thought it would be and the kid did have a point, Central was much more convenient in many ways than the East and Gracia did make one hell of an apple pie. I knew one thing for sure; it was cold up on the roof. I'd gotten soft in the hospital and used to climate control.

"Al, I'll take it under advisement. Thank you for your honesty and thank you for this." I said as I gestured with my stub of a cigarette at the rooftop and our view of the starry night. "At the moment I am sure of one immediate course of action that needs to be taken."

He turned to me and asked hopefully, "Yes Jean, what is that?"

"I need to get inside. It is freezing up here. I have gotten soft in my infirmity. Don't tell anyone that a tough soldier was complaining about the cold." With that I winked and both Al and I laughed and he commenced preparations for the trip back downstairs.

When we arrived back in my room I heaved a sigh of relief once I'd finally gotten myself into bed. I was worn out after our adventure. Between two transfers and pushing that awkward and heavy chair I was wiped out.

"Al, I am beat. That chair is the heaviest, clumsiest thing ever and I am out of shape. You better get back to check on the Boss and I had better get back to sleep. I was told that tomorrow I get to learn how to dress myself. You're impressed, aren't you?"

He said goodnight, choosing to ignore my last sarcastic remark and went back to the Boss' room. I did my nighttime hygiene routine and took care of all the necessaries so I wouldn't wake up wet in the morning; I had learned that with planning I could spare myself some of the humiliations. I then remembered that I should also spare my butt as I now spent a good amount of my time on it and decided it would be best to sleep on my side, so I set to getting myself there. After a good amount of struggling I was finally there and fell almost immediately to sleep. It couldn't have come a moment sooner; it had been a very long day.

*

The new day brought more therapy, the same hospital routine, but it also brought a Winry. As I wheeled back to my room with Jim as my escort I heard an unmistakable racket that could only be the Fullmetal Boss being pummeled by the beautiful Miss Winry Rockbell.

"Who-are-you-calling-so-short-that-he-wrecked-his-automail-while-trying-to-scale-a-curb? I'm-not-some-bean-sized-shrimp-midget-that-you-can-boss-around!" blustered Ed.

Winry replied with, "Whose automail Edward? My automail. You wrecked my precious automail again you bean!"

"It was a fucking steel-reinforced concrete wall with barbed wire and DOGS! NOT A CURB WINRY!" frothed Ed.

Jim and I arrived at my room just as the wrench went flying. Jim looked concerned and I just shrugged and laughed.

"No worries Jim, it's just his head. This is Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, and if he is injured we are in a hospital. Thanks for the session."

Jim replied, "I thought he'd be taller. See you tomorrow Jean."

Al held Edward down while Winry gloated. I rolled in and settled in at the small table the nurses had placed in the room near the chairs for visitors. As I neared the table I heard a loud thud and Winry gasped. I looked down and realized that I must have bumped my legs against the table and couldn't get clearance under it. I'd have to check for bruises or injuries later, but I was pretty sure I was fine. I added this to my growing list of things I'd have to be more careful of from now on. Al had gone out to pick up pastry for Ed's enormous appetite and he'd remembered to get some for me so I was not about to ruin the party by letting everyone in on the realities. Ed had calmed down, Winry stopped gawking and Ed, Al, Winry and I got ready to enjoy our feast.

"This beats the hell out of hospital food, don't you agree Boss?" I said trying to change the mood and the unsaid subject as we settled in.

Ed mumbled something incoherent around a huge mouthful of pastry and Winry smiled and nodded in agreement. We continued eating in silence, my visitors seemingly becoming less aware of the elephant at the table as time passed.

"Al, you are truly too good to me. You think of everything." I said as I finished the last bite of baklava he'd brought for me because he'd remembered I'd liked it from a passing conversation we'd had months ago. People said Al was lucky to have Ed, but I thought it was the other way around.

Everyone had pretty much finished up when Winry finally gathered her words. "Um, Mr. Lieutenant Havoc, um Jean...Al told me that the um, wheelchair is really heavy and hard to get around in. I've started thinking of ways to make that easier, lighter and what not. You wouldn't mind if I worked on that would you? Um and oh gosh, I am really, really sorry that this has happened to you."

The poor kid was so nervous just asking, even addressing me. She'd dealt with automail and repairing massive bodily injuries almost her whole life and this was something she knew she couldn't fix and that fact made her very uncomfortable. It was sweet really, and she was honestly concerned. I sighed, and thought and finally smiled at her and gave her my answer.

"Winry, it's Jean, and you don't need to walk on eggshells around me. I won't break. Hell, Ed could probably throw me soon and I wouldn't sustain any damage. Didn't you know I'm the 'Fullmetal Havoc'? You should check out my X-rays, they're a feat of engineering. I have almost as much metal on my person as the Boss. I would love the services of such a talented and lovely mechanic." I shot a wink at the Boss as I said lovely. The Boss turned shades of pink I didn't think were possible.

Winry clasped that wrench of hers in both hands and bowed her head and said, "Thank you Mister, I mean Jean, I will do my best." She then set to taking measurements of everything. I could see what the Boss meant when he called her a "Machine Freak". She was unfamiliar with the specifics of my diagnosis so I filled her in on what I could and told her she should go talk to Jim and "Dr. Prick" so she would have accurate specs for her next great creation.

Ed and Al took their leave, but Winry stayed. I surmised that this was a patient consult and I was right. She had a look of determination on her face as she got up from her chair and went to her toolbox. She tied up her hair in a bandana, got out a well-worn notebook and stub of a pencil and began asking me questions.

"Jean, I'm going to ask you some questions and they might seem weird and I'm sorry." she blurted and blushed as if rushing her statement would make it go away.

I just smiled and nodded and rubbed my chin a bit and said, "Winry, you are doing me a huge favor. I'm barely military anymore and I now have a personal mechanic. I thought only the Boss got one of those. I must be pretty important."

With that Winry smiled a shy smile and said, "So um, your back, I was thinking, to make the chair lighter some of the back rest could go. This "Tank" thing is huge, almost like an armchair on wheels. I noticed when you came in that it barely cleared the door jamb and that you had a horrible turning radius. What if we made it more like, I don't know...sporty?"

I laughed and rolled my eyes. She smiled nervously and I smiled back, hoping I could make her feel more at ease, as I know on my end this was uncomfortable as hell. How could a wheelchair be sporty? What kind of questions was she going to ask? I barely wanted to admit my weaknesses to my doctors or myself. Telling Winry, a child really, felt wrong. Kids should be protected from the nastiness of the world. Since she was already entangled with Fullmetal, I figured she'd seen worse than I could deliver, this was just new territory for her. Making a better alternative to the Tank would be a tall order, but if anyone could do it Winry could. I decided the best approach was to be direct.

"To answer your question Winry, it's easiest to sit up if I have support about here," I said pointing to where my ribs started in the back, "and maybe you could think about doing something with the seat so I don't tip forward either. It is hard for me to keep stable that way, and I've been told that it will continue to be hard. Gravity is not my friend. A seatbelt is really an undesirable option; I am not a racecar. Though Elysia seems to think I am." I added, partly in jest. This was not cool, and a seatbelt would just make my trunk weakness that much more conspicuous. Though I had to admit, Elysia did think that a ride on "Jean Racecar" was cooler than playing horsy.

Winry had me transfer to the bed so she could check out the specs on the Tank and she took more measurements. She rolled it back and forth, under the table noting the distance between seat and tabletop and I winced remembering how I'd bumped my legs rather hard at the beginning of the visit. She then attempted to pick it up and decided that it was indeed too heavy being made of wood and steel and then she scribbled some notes and sketches and it seemed like a light bulb went on. She made a little squeaking noise and said, "I've got it!"

"What? What have you got?" I said. But Winry was on a mission. Apparently she had found an answer to some of my problems and for that I knew I would be grateful. She sat on the bed and then almost tackled me in a bear hug. She popped up almost as quickly doing what Ed secretly called the "Machine Freak Dance" behind her back.

"Jean, I'll be back as soon as I can. I need to get some supplies and I think I need Al's help but I can do this. Do what Jim says, be nice to the nurses even the ugly ones and drink your milk!" she shouted over her shoulder as she raced out of the room.

I smiled, lit up my allotted smoke and thought of the options that might be open to me if I could move around a bit better. Winry had worked miracles for the Boss; maybe she could do something for me.

*

A few days passed in the usual way. Awake before the birds to some nurse poking me and prodding at me, and checking on me in invasive ways that I'd never imagined before. Then breakfast and that too was wearing on me. The Boss had been released so Al had gone too, so no more pastry to supplement the milquetoast fare that passed for food. Soon after my morning bathroom routine a nurse would come in to help me bathe, as they didn't think I was quite ready to attempt the shower by myself. The memory of my first sponge bath still stung my ego, so what should have been the best part of the day was something I just closed my eyes for and resigned myself to. Next a passel of young doctors would come through with their instructor to poke and prod me some more and discuss me in terms I was coming to know all too well, like I wasn't even in the room or deaf instead of paralyzed. Thankfully they would leave minutes after they arrived and then Jim would arrive. I never thought I'd look forward to therapy, but it was a trip outside my room and Jim was pretty used to seeing guys as banged up as I was. After all, it was a military hospital. It was routine to Jim and he seemed pleased to have a patient who wanted to work with him, didn't throw bedpans at him and above all wanted to get the hell out of the hospital under his own steam. Mostly I looked forward to seeing Jim because I knew I needed to get stronger and to learn how to live with this rather learning to live "like this" and he was a way to do just that. That was how he had phrased it the first day in therapy. I could find a way to do plenty of the things that I wanted to do with effort and creativity, and if I couldn't then I would find other pursuits that interested me. I had looked at him incredulously that first day. There was no way that I could ever learn to "like" this. I'm sure he was familiar with the look.

"Jean, you have a few options. You can go home and hide and be bitter and get weak or you can work on yourself to better as much as you can. You have a brain, two strong arms, resources from your retirement, and friends if you don't push them away. Figure out a new plan. The old plan got screwed up. That is horrible, but it's a fact. Life is far too long to be miserable. Get out of here and make a new life. This new life may be different but it doesn't have to be worse."

I was in pretty good spirits after therapy. I'd met some of my goals, even if they were small and I could maneuver the Tank a bit better. My stamina was increasing as well. As Jim and I neared the room a small blonde missile darted out and jumped into my lap.

"RACECAR JEAN! Go fast! Please?" cried Elysia obviously happy to see me.

I agreed of course, who could resist an offer like that? So Elysia and I went careening down to the nurses' station and back. When we got back I was a little winded, but when I looked up I saw Gracia standing in the doorway smiling. I moved over to her, squeezed her hand and mouthed, "Thank You.".

We then entered the room and Gracia had again been thoughtful enough to bring some of her wonderful baked goods, this time a small cake. If I recalled correctly it was her special cake.

"Gracia, why did you bake a cake? What are we celebrating? This is an awfully odd place to be celebrating. If I knew you'd bake me a cake for breaking my back maybe I would have done it sooner. Your cake is the best."

She blushed and looked down at that last comment and I knew I'd said too much. I shrugged and said, "Gallows humor, sorry."

"But really, what are we celebrating?"

Gracia turned to Elysia and made a shooing gesture, and at that Elysia hopped off my lap and ran towards the bathroom. When she opened the door out came Winry with an object covered in a hospital issue sheet. I noticed Jim was hanging around in the doorway and said, "Jim, get in here. I have a feeling you know what is going on here."

With a flourish Winry pulled the sheet off to reveal her latest creation.

I looked and then wheeled over to it and was speechless. The object before me had more in common with a professional racing bicycle than the Tank that I was currently sitting in. It was sleek and compact, the tires were rubber like bicycle tires and the wheels had spokes. There were push rims that looked like they would be easier on my hands to push with and the most interesting thing from that angle was that the wheels were set at an angle. Inspecting the seat I noticed that it was also set at an angle, slightly higher at the knees and lower in the back. I pointed at the seat, still unable to speak, the back rest was low slung and lightly padded with NO push handles and it was at exactly the level I had given Winry in our consult session.

Winry spoke up, "I angled the seat so that it would come up under your knees and be lower in the back, to help you sit and maintain a more stable position. You said no seatbelt, right? Oh, and the wheels are cambered for stability and to better your turning radius. Plus, they are quick release so it's easy to get it in and out of the car and stuff. Plus I figured you wouldn't want anyone to push you once you're stronger, so no handles so people won't even try." then she giggled a bit at her stroke of genius. She was giddy with pride in her accomplishment and eager to see my reaction.

There were more differences from the Tank. The armrests were thin tubing with a minimal amount of padding, set low, and were constructed with the same metal as the frame. The frame or chassis in and of itself was a work of art. Where the Tank was all angles and bulk, this contraption was compact and curvaceous. It was like Winry had made the pin-up girl of my dreams in metal. It was sad that this work of art was a wheelchair, but the girl had talent. The next feature I noticed was that the footrest was part of the frame and quite discreet. On it were two small wheels that appeared to be multi-directional.

The final test was weight. I timidly reached out with my right hand and grabbed the seat and attempted to lift it. I was overjoyed when I realized that I was in fact able to lift it a little bit and it was lighter than I had ever thought possible. I put my both hands to my face, and leaned over to rest my elbows on my knees for a bit and just sat there so I could breathe a bit easier. I was dizzy with amazement at what she had accomplished, at what I might be able to accomplish. I needed to compose myself.

When I finally gathered my thoughts I said, "Winry you are a genius. The Boss does not deserve you unless he shouts from the roof of Central H.Q. that you are the best mechanic in all of Amestris. This is a work of art."

Winry blushed furiously, and said, "I couldn't have done it without Al. I had this idea that we could take a long distance light weight racing bicycle and Al could follow my blue prints to change the shape of the tubing using alchemy. That's why it's so light. I think you'll find it's everything we talked about. I added a pneumatic, um air cushion to the seat. Jim said that would help with sores and stuff, and the armrests are perfect for you to do those pressure relief push-ups on. It'll fit under tables too. I checked."

Jim interrupted Winry's nervous presentation on the specifications of her creation, "Jean, I think you have to try this out now, and Winry, I want copies of your plans, this is amazing."

I looked at all the faces in the room, Gracia, Elysia, Jim and most of all Winry, swallowed and said, "Here goes nothing."

I carefully lined up the Tank with Winry's work of art and nervously transferred. Even though the backrest was lower I felt more stable in it than I had felt in the Tank. I rolled over to the full-length mirror that was hanging on the back of the bathroom door and gave myself an inspection. Whereas the Tank had made me look smaller and more fragile than I was, this wheelchair seemed to fade into the background a bit. Granted I was still sitting in a walking world, but this gave me back a part of myself. Maybe people might see me first, then the chair. Even just going to the mirror I could tell that I moved much more freely.

"Halloo, Jean, are you with us? We all know you are a looker, but could you grace us with your presence?" Jim said, knocking me out of my stupor. He was exceptionally good at helping me through awkward moments with humor.

I made my way over to the table, first pushing the Tank out of the way, and settling neatly underneath it with Gracia on one side and Winry on the other.

"Jim, grab a chair and sit down, not the Tank though, it doesn't fit, and get rid of it when you finish your cake!" I said, "Hey, Elysia, stop playing with the Tank and get over here." as I patted my lap to let her know she was welcome to it.

We all dug into Gracia's now famous within the Amestris Army cake and laughed and talked. Jim finished his cake and had to excuse himself as he did have other patients to work with. I excused myself as well and went to the door of my room.

"Jim, you're forgetting something, take the Tank and burn it or something, would you? Oh, and I am so going to get you. You KNEW that they were planning this and you didn't tell me? I would have done something more with my hair." mock preening as I pretended to berate him. With that said, I motioned for his hand and he offered it and I shook it and said, "Thank you, truly. Thank you. I think you may be right."

When Jim had left I returned to my other guests, focusing first on Winry.

"Winry, get over here so I can thank you properly."

Winry's eyes widened, but she did what was requested anyway. I grabbed her around the waist in the best bear hug I could muster reciprocating the unaffected show of kindness she had given me when she had left that first visit and said, "Thank you, there are not enough words, just thank you." I held onto her as tightly as I could and just squeezed.

Once Winry had wrestled out of my grip I turned to Gracia and Elysia.

"Gracia, Jim gave me some good news today during my session. I can go to therapy on an outpatient basis starting in a week if I find a 'suitable lodging situation'. I was wondering if your offer of staying with you and Elysia still stands."

Gracia stood up, walked toward me and once again I found myself in an iron grip. Not to be left out Elysia squeezed into the hug and onto my lap.

"I am going to assume that this is a yes." I said as I looked up and cocked an eyebrow.

Gracia smiled, near tears and said, "Of course Jean, I'm just glad that you've come to this decision by yourself. I hadn't told Elysia about it because I didn't want to get her hopes up, but as you can see, she is thrilled."