Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Don’t worry, honey,” Alex’s mother says tenderly, eyeing him with awe and care from the driver seat, a challenge hanging at the base of her calloused fingers, the desire to touch and the fear that keeps her away.

Like some sort of barrier is standing tall, invincible between them. And he doesn’t say it’s not, because there are days. Days when everything seems to have gone back to how it was are normal, while others – darker and less frequent – are the ones they avoid.

From what Alex can remember, his mother is a master at keeping things to herself as long as they don’t involve her family. These are plentiful and painful. He doesn’t want to see her crying again, but knows it’ll probably happen at some point.

“I’m not. I just don’t see the point in trying it,” he says, honest, and turns to face the car window. It’s flooded in sun light, streaked with dry rain drops and scratched, but he can still see outside, the light breeze sneaking between green leaves, the not so towering building he’s supposed to be in for the next few hours of the next few months.

His mother sighs as if his argument is a burden. Maybe it is, considering their discussions.

“We’ve already talked about it.” Her voice quiets, blond hair looking several shades lighter and brown eyes directed forward; always looking ahead instead of beyond. Another thing Alex didn’t inherit from her. Or maybe he did. He wouldn’t know, anyway. “If you don’t think you can go on with Physical Therapy, it’s all right. We’ll find a way. A better one. But it’s worth a try.”

See, Alex might not remember much, might be in almost complete darkness with himself and his past, what he is and isn’t, but his mother holds most of what has remained within his mind, his soul. It’s ingrained so well that it won’t erase. Not even a bullet can steal some memories and he’s, for once, glad for it.

“Right.” He feels the need to agree somehow. Glancing at the building entrance again, he puts aside the dread and pain and a small part of his fears.

It’s easier to let his cane carry his weight than to sink under all that pressure. As they’re slowly making their way to the entrance, through the parking lot, the summer heat is protruding through his white, blue-striped shirt and making him sweat.

Did he use to enjoy summer late nights? Excessive warmth and drinks at midnight? He cannot recall. But the smell, of hot asphalt and excitement and carelessness, is addicting.

“Be careful with that one, Alex,” his mother warns him of the few stairs leading to a councilor’s office and puts her nimble fingers on his elbow, always so supportive and strong. “Yes, like that.”

Alex has only had one premise when leaving home, that he wasn’t ever going to make it. He wouldn’t survive the first day, let alone the rest of them. It was wasting time, but a necessary one. That’s why, mostly, he remained frozen in place when the open office door led them to two people.

One, with graying hair, is smiling slightly. The other, a boy, with brunette strands, tan skin, is wearing a larger, more genuine smile. Alex doesn’t know how to react despite a small nod.

The boy seems to be eyeing him a little too much.

“Alex, hello. Welcome to our PT program. I truly hope it’ll be helpful and as comfortable as possible.” The man (Blake, was it?) tells him after his mother salutes them both. “Ah, since I’ve heard you go to Liberty High and I happened to come across one student who does the same, I assigned you to him.”

Oh. So he’s a Liberty High jackass with a nice smile. Alex has almost liked him. He doesn’t realize what expression he’s making, but his mother wants to calm him as she picks up to the slight tremor in his body.

“Alex, no. Honey, he’s Zach. Zach Dempsey. You’ve mentioned him a few times.”

It doesn’t matter how much compassion his mother puts in her words, or how calmly she’s talking, the name doesn’t and won’t ring a bell inside his messed up head.

“You can tell me if there’s a problem, boy. We’ll change your instructor. I just thought you’d like to have someone your age to assist you.” The man says, concerned or faking concern. Alex cannot really say the difference at the moment.

Whatever. There are two to three hours. He’d rather have it all end than go through some picking phase, only to meet someone boring. Plus, the way the boy smiles is… brighter than the sun filtering through the windows and onto the neat desk.

“No, no.” When all they do is glance at him curiously, he explains further. “It’s fine.” As fine as it can be, he means.

His mother is not completely convinced, but she won’t pester him about it. She’ll perhaps bring it up at dinner or however what they do every night is called. It could be a dinner or just a pretend-to-be time. To be what? He’s still figuring it out.

“Right, well. I’m glad about that.” More paperwork adds to the one already on the table. “Fill them all and you’re ready to go. Of course, you can do it for him and it should be done with.” This time, he’s not talking to Alex.

He moves his leg, stretches it to get rid of the stiffness and swallows the small obstacle in his throat. Emotions prickle his skin suddenly and the room is too small. The boy – Zach – comes to greet him properly.

“Hi.” His tall and athletic shoulders look stiff, too, with Asian-American characteristics and a weird sparkle in his dark eyes. “Uh… I guess you don’t remember me, so. I’m Zach. I’ll be your PT for as long as you’ll have me, or until you get bored eventually.” He finishes with one of those smiles, amiable and true.

“Let’s hope you won’t get bored of me first. You know, since I can barely remember my family, I can’t say if we were friends before.” Alex is half serious, but the tone he chooses for his words suggests otherwise once it’s used. “Were we? Friends, I mean.”

A small charged pause follows. Zach seems to be juggling with the answer, having that strange thing reflect in his eyes again, less visible but still there for Alex to see.

“We weren’t complete strangers. Not very close friends either. Somewhere in between the rock and the sea.” He fixes Alex with one, long look and holds the contact, to which the answer is a nod of acknowledgement. “Don’t worry. I heard these things come with time.”

Alex doesn’t want to find a sliver of comfort in his words, but he does.

“You should probably change. I don’t think you’d want that shirt to be dripping with water all over your car’s seats.” Zach says, letting Alex out the door first and then slowing his giant steps to match with Alex’s slower ones.

“You talk as if it’s happened to you before,” Alex remarks with a small chuckle, to which Zach smiles again, clearly pleased that he was able to lift the mood.

“I didn’t say it hadn’t. I’ll just keep it to myself.” Zach murmurs, closer this time and quieter, somehow bold in a good way. “In case you won’t tell anyone.” From under his dark eyelashes, he studies Alex as if he’s a natural phenomenon that needs to be elucidated.

Perhaps he is.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think I’ll share this with mom though.” Alex’s voice might be the same, but Zach takes it as a joke and pats his shoulder, realizing then that the right one is higher than the left, since he’s supporting his weight in the cane.

“Wait, wait. Alex,” Zach says and, surprisingly, the boy listens, warily waiting as he has been told. “I’m such an idiot! I didn’t even ask you if you wanted help.” His dark eyes are casted downward, to Alex’s leg.

To say he’s an idiot would be a lie. Alex doesn’t think so and doesn’t want help, at least not with walking. It makes him feel even more damaged than he already is, which is hard to digest at such an early hour. He shakes his head in disagreement, trying to convince Zach that he’s done, in fact, nothing wrong and that everything is all right.

“I can walk by myself.” He decides to go with it since the absence of a verbal answer was the one holding Zach back.

“Right, right.” He still seems unconvinced for a second, but doesn’t continue on the subject and respects Alex’s opinion. “Let’s head this way.”

When Alex sees the program Zach has been given to follow, his breath leaves him hollow. He can barely make the walk from the car to the building with a normal breath, without his heart threatening to jump out of his chest, let alone start with so many exercises all of a sudden.

He must be frowning while reading, sighing and dreading to begin, because Zach eyes him, then the page, then him again and puts his thick fingers over the paper. Alex takes a step back, averting his eyes.

He doesn’t want to say that he can’t possibly do all of it, but Zach understands his worry anyway.

“Look, Alex. You do whatever you can and how much you resist doing it, okay? Don’t feel pressured, man. I’m right here, at every step.” Zach takes the program from between his fingers and replaces it with a pair of shorts. He pats his back twice and leaves him alone to get changed after Alex confirms he can do it by his own. “I’ll be waiting by the pool.”

Alex nods, still stuck on the idea of letting a Liberty High student help him with PT. Zach isn’t an asshole, but Alex can’t say he’s not a liar, a deceiver, someone who may or may not have hurt Hannah. He’ll go on like this, using the solid beginning they’ve had built and hoping that, once his memories come flooding his brain, Zach won’t prove to be someone he’s afraid of being.

The fact that he’s a little nervous is like a general truth. Who wouldn’t be on the edge of some twisted emotion when trying something for the first time? Hydrotherapy. Rehabilitation. They don’t sound nice. Riding a bike that’s underwater? Even weirder.

It seems that all his benevolent thoughts are wiped away easily by the image of his PT instructor without the red shirt on, chest on display, more naked than dressed. And it shouldn’t have been such a problem, looking from afar, but standing close to Zach, touching parts of his tan skin, was stranger than riding an underwater bicycle.

The point is, he has to do both – as in, he has to make his useless legs work hard enough to sustain his weight and feel Zach no more than five inches away, always with his hands stretched, eager to help and rescue and train.

“Good, good. Try to keep your balance as much as you can.” Zach is used not to dealing with more difficult cases, since he’s only been admitted as an instructor and Alex is the right fit, the missing piece, the one who can get him to slowly improve himself.

“Easier said than done,” Alex says, panting and feeling exhaust poke at his insides and demand to take over. “I need a break.” He doesn’t even wait for Zach, to see if he’s agreed or not, before he slows down the pedaling and breathes in deep.

“Of course,” Zach approves and moves his fingers to Alex’s back, hovering, not touching. It seems he’s still looking for a verbal consent. “You know, tomorrow, when you’ll get into calculus and trigonometry, you’ll wish you were here, practicing.”

“They’ll be like Chinese, perhaps. I can’t remember any formulas. It’s a blank paper, my head.” He still finds it tiring to breathe, but not as much as before. It could’ve been worse. It always could’ve been worse. “You said we were not-too-much-but-enough friends, right?”

Zach smiles slightly, nodding and using his hands for balance while gazing at Alex from underneath wet lashes. Alex, with his feet under the water up to his knees, staying on the edge of the pool, bites his lip a little, realizing how chapped it is and cold.

“That’s a way of putting it, yes. Why?” Zach finally answers, swimming closer to where Alex is and coming to rest his arms on the porcelain, truly contrasting with the whiteness of it.

“Just asking. You know, in case I need someone to carry me from my mom’s car to the entrance.” He’s joking, again, but, as he already knows, the humor isn’t obvious in the words. Zach widens his eyes, stiffens his shoulders and shrugs lazily.

“I can come and get you.” He offers, all too honest and useful.

Alex shakes his head, looking ahead at an older man being instructed too. His breaths are shallow, but he’s not giving up, nor is he taking a break. No. Well, perhaps that’s one more thing Alex hasn’t had the privilege to share with his mother; determination.

“It was a damn joke, Dempsey,” he lets out and goes into the water again. This time, it’s not that cold and uninviting and unpleasant. Plus, the look of amazement on Zach’s face is unique and is fueling his motivation, just a little bit.

“My offer still stands, Standall. In case you change your mind, you know where to find me.” In truth, he doesn’t, not apart from this facility. “I’m here from four to eight, maybe even nine, on every week day but Mondays and Fridays,” he adds when seeing the puzzled expression Alex was making.

“Why not every day?” Alex is too curious and, yes, it’s annoying to some, but not to Zach, it seems, because he goes on with the answer without considering the question inappropriate.

“I’ve got baseball practice then.” Zach comes after Alex again, ready to intervene but still staying away. “Let’s talk more after the exercises, though.”

Alex nods and starts pedaling.

As it happens, they don’t have the chance to do so. They don’t stop, panting, after PT to ‘talk more’, because Zach is suddenly called to go to school as soon as possible. It seems that there were some changes in plans and the baseball practice is still on. A little angry and just a tad bit tired, he excuses himself and leaves Alex early.

“Well? How was it?” His mother asks in the evening, when all what Alex wants to do is go up in his room and sleep.

“All right, I guess. I’m exhausted and hungry. Can we go buy something?” He uncaps a water bottle and downs half a liter into his stomach. It’s the first time after the incident that he does it, drinking water while knocked out by PT.

“No junk food, Alex. We’ve got dinner at home.” Oh, yes, how could he have forgotten about the healthy diet the three of them are opting for at the moment?

His father is not that curious about PT, though he asks too. He enjoys the organic food as much as Alex, picking vegetables and leaving them onto the plate’s edge. After the dinner ends, his mother keeps his father as an aid to washing and drying the dishes, letting Alex go and relax in his room.

He doesn’t know for how long he naps, until the phone vibrating and ringing near his head makes him jump. It says ‘Zach Dempsey’, but Alex is surprised at first, wondering how and why. Then it dawns on him that they knew each other, apparently having exchanged numbers.

“Yes?” He answers, lifting onto his right side.

“Alex! Were you asleep? Please tell me you weren’t.” Zach’s voice is no better than his, but it’s cheerer, louder. It fills the room in a good way, one that Alex can’t see himself doing.

“No, actually,” he lies, trying to remove the sluggishness from his tone. “Why?”

“Come in the backyard for a few minutes.”

Oh, Alex wants to say no. He truly, really does. He can’t. He just nods, realizing Zach can’t see him and says, “It might take a while. Get something to do before I come.”

All he hears before hanging up is Zach’s laughter.

“Are you going somewhere?” His mom asks, making him freeze. She’s expecting an answer, unfortunately.

“On the porch, to take some air,” Alex half admits. He’s taking air, just not by himself.

“Be careful.”

“Well, look who’s here in less than five minutes. That’s impressive!” Zach says, clapping his hands and smiling, again. And, again, Alex is enraptured by that smile. That damn smile should be illegal.

“Thanks. I wasn’t even trying my best.” He stops before Zach, who’s sustaining his weight on his car. “What are you doing here? Been here before?”

“No, actually. Just once, when you were too drunk to drive and I took you home.” Zach has both his hands in the pockets of his jeans, more relaxed than before. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He distances himself from the car, opens the door and takes a backpack, searching through it hastily.

Once he gets what he wants, he chuckles. “That’s it!” He throws Alex one Snickers, waiting for a reaction. “In case you get bored of vegetables.” It’s supposed to clarify things.

It doesn’t.

“Aren’t you supposed to make sure I’m healthy?” Alex asks, but the sweet thing in his right hand is squashed by the upper part of his cane. He’s got a smaller hand, compared to Zach, and having to hold both the cane and the Snickers isn’t easy. “Your conscience must be screaming.”

“It’s not a mistake if only we know the secret,” Zach admits and his smile falters by a centimeter. Alex sees it. “Hey, uh, my offer is still available.”

“If you want to…” Alex says, clearing his throat. “My answer might be affirmative.”

“Might? What’s holding you back?” Zach’s voice isn’t acrid, or bitter, just curious and amused. The candlelight of the sun is painting his eyes in a honey color. The red shirt is clinging to his body, covered by a denim jacket.

“Is this a double or a simple?” Alex asks, pointing towards the Snickers with his head.

“You’re unbelievable,” Zach says, smiling widely, biting his lip. He doesn’t seem to be able to understand what he sees and hears. Maybe Alex was truly different before. He doesn’t even want to know.

“See you in the morning.”