Fic: Prom Night, (Conner fic)

[anitabuchan]

Title: Prom Night
Character: Conner McKnight
Fandom: PRDT
A/N: For the au100 challenge, prompt 77: paralysis.



The wheelchair wasn’t exactly comfortable. Well-designed, sure, and easier to move around in than he’d first assumed, but still not comfortable. He couldn’t slouch, couldn’t shift into some more relaxed position. It kept him sitting up straight, holding up his head.

Maybe that was the point.

He’d seen a limo go past already this evening, and remembered his friends talking about saving up – not just for renting limos, but for tuxes and gifts, and hotel rooms at the end of the night. Conner didn’t know what he’d have ended up getting. It wasn’t like he had a steady girlfriend. Besides, Kira would probably have killed him for being sexist or something.

He backed away from the window, trying not to think too hard about anything, but the fantasies kept bubbling up. Of being there, at the prom, with Ethan and Kira, and even Trent and Dr O. Of dancing with a pretty girl, hopefully one he could talk to as well as look at. Of listening to the band, laughing with his friends. Of being able to walk again.

The doctors said negative thoughts like that didn’t help. They said he would be able to walk again, after months and years of pain and therapy in white-walled hospitals. It was just now, at the most important time in his life, that he couldn’t walk. Now, when he should be out there, fighting with his team, and playing soccer in trials for professional clubs. Dancing at the prom.

Instead, he sat in a chair, remembering the monster that had done this to him and hating Mesagog for taking away all that mattered in his life. Hating himself, for being so weak and self-pitying. And hating the others, for never looking at his legs, for falling silent whenever he came near, for making awkward small talk in quiet voices and refusing to laugh or joke like they used to.

He could handle being teased. Right now, he would welcome it. He thought he could even handle them hating him, trying to hurt him. Just not the humiliation he couldn’t say anything about, because they were trying to be nice.

He didn’t see them much anymore. It was easier to sit at home, watching TV and neglecting the exercises the doctors had set. Ignoring his schoolwork, because he needed a soccer scholarship to get into university, and how could you play soccer if you couldn’t run?

Struggling to turn, he moved away from the window. When the pain inside grew too much, he levered himself onto the bed and took some of the pills from the bottle on the dresser. He knew from experience that they dulled all kinds of hurt.

Comments

[welleg-fic.livejournal.com]

Poor Conner!