Chapter Text
The sirens never stopped.
Seth Ridley drifted in and out of consciousness as the ambulance raced through the city. Every bump in the road sent another wave of agony through his body.
He couldn’t think clearly.
Couldn’t breathe properly.
Couldn’t understand why everything hurt.
Someone was shouting.
A paramedic.
“Blood pressure dropping again.”
Another voice answered.
“Push another unit.”
Seth tried to lift his head.
Immediately, hands guided him back down.
“Easy, Seth.”
His vision blurred.
“What…”
His voice sounded broken.
The paramedic hesitated.
“You’re badly hurt.”
Seth looked down.
All he could see were blankets.
Bandages.
Blood.
Too much blood.
Then darkness swallowed him again.
⸻
The trauma team was waiting when the ambulance doors burst open.
“Twenty-three-year-old male,” a paramedic called out. “Grenade blast. Massive lower-limb trauma. Significant blood loss.”
Doctors surrounded the stretcher immediately.
“What are his vitals?”
“Unstable.”
“Get him to theatre now.”
The bright lights above blurred together as Seth was rushed through endless corridors.
He heard fragments of conversation.
“…both legs…”
“…severe damage…”
“…we’re losing pressure…”
Someone squeezed his hand.
A nurse.
“Stay with us.”
Seth wanted to ask what was happening.
He wanted to ask if he was going to die.
Instead, he slipped away again.
⸻
Hours later, surgeons were still working.
The damage from the explosion had been catastrophic.
Shrapnel had torn through both lower legs.
There had been too much destruction.
Too much blood loss.
Too little healthy tissue left to save.
The decision had been made within minutes.
The only way to keep him alive was amputation.
The operation lasted nearly eight hours.
Then another.
And another.
By sunrise, the surgeons finally stepped away.
Exhausted.
But hopeful.
Seth was alive.
⸻
The ICU was quiet.
Machines beeped steadily.
The ventilator breathed for him.
A clear plastic tube disappeared into his mouth.
He looked peaceful.
Almost asleep.
Lucy Chen stood beside the bed.
She hadn’t gone home.
Not once.
She stared at her rookie.
At the pale face beneath the hospital lights.
At the injuries hidden beneath blankets.
A doctor approached.
“Family?”
Lucy shook her head.
“Work.”
The doctor nodded.
“He’s stable.”
“Will he wake up?”
“We expect him to.”
Lucy swallowed hard.
“And after that?”
The doctor didn’t answer immediately.
“We’ll take it one day at a time.”
⸻
Wade Gray arrived an hour later.
The police sergeant looked older than usual.
More tired.
He stared through the glass.
“How is he?”
“Still unconscious.”
Gray nodded.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Finally he sighed.
“Kid drives me crazy.”
Lucy managed a weak laugh.
“Yeah.”
“But he didn’t deserve this.”
“No.”
Neither of them said anything after that.
⸻
Three days passed before Seth opened his eyes.
The world felt wrong.
Everything felt wrong.
His throat burned.
His chest hurt.
Every breath felt unnatural.
A nurse appeared beside him.
“Good morning.”
Seth blinked.
Nothing made sense.
The nurse smiled.
“You’re in intensive care.”
The memories returned all at once.
The explosion.
The smoke.
The pain.
The screaming.
His heart rate spiked instantly.
The monitor began shrieking.
“It’s okay,” the nurse said.
“You’re safe.”
Safe.
The word sounded ridiculous.
He tried to sit up.
Pain exploded through him.
The nurse gently stopped him.
“Don’t.”
Seth looked down.
The blanket covered most of his body.
But something seemed…
Wrong.
Too flat.
Too short.
“No…”
The nurse’s expression changed.
Seth already knew.
Somewhere deep down.
His hands shook as he grabbed the blanket.
The nurse reached forward.
“Seth—”
He pulled it back anyway.
For a moment he didn’t understand what he was seeing.
Bandages.
Pillows.
Empty space.
Then reality hit him.
Both legs ended above the knees.
Gone.
Just gone.
The room spun.
“No.”
Tears filled his eyes.
“No.”
The nurse rested a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry.”
Seth couldn’t stop staring.
His brain refused to accept it.
Even stranger—
He could still feel them.
His feet.
His ankles.
His knees.
Every part of them.
He tried to move his toes.
Nothing happened.
Panic rose immediately.
“I can feel them.”
The nurse nodded.
“That’s normal.”
“They’re there.”
“They aren’t.”
Seth looked away.
Unable to breathe.
Unable to think.
Unable to imagine life without them.
⸻
The following weeks were brutal.
Recovery wasn’t a straight line.
Some days felt hopeful.
Others felt impossible.
He developed an infection.
His fever climbed dangerously high.
Doctors rushed him back into surgery.
For several days his condition worsened.
Lucy visited every evening.
Even when Seth barely spoke.
Even when he told her to leave.
She stayed.
One night he finally snapped.
“Why do you keep coming?”
Lucy looked surprised.
“Because you’re my friend.”
The answer caught him off guard.
Friend.
Nobody had called him that in a long time.
⸻
John Nolan started visiting after his shifts.
Unlike everyone else, he never acted nervous.
He brought terrible hospital coffee.
Bad jokes.
And stories from work.
One afternoon Seth finally laughed.
It hurt.
But he laughed.
John grinned.
“There he is.”
Seth rolled his eyes.
“Don’t get used to it.”
⸻
Physical therapy began shortly afterward.
The first session lasted six minutes.
Seth hated every second.
The second lasted eight.
The third lasted ten.
Progress felt impossibly slow.
But it was still progress.
One day he transferred into a wheelchair by himself.
Another day he managed to wheel himself down the corridor.
Then all the way to the hospital garden.
For the first time since the explosion, he felt sunlight on his face.
Real sunlight.
Not fluorescent hospital lights.
It felt like freedom.
⸻
Months passed.
The wounds healed.
The swelling faded.
The phantom pain became manageable.
Temporary prosthetic fittings were discussed.
Future plans returned.
For the first time, Seth stopped focusing on what he’d lost.
And started wondering what came next.
⸻
On the morning of his discharge, the room felt strangely quiet.
A doctor reviewed his chart.
“Everything looks good.”
Seth almost laughed.
Good.
After everything that had happened, it felt like a ridiculous word.
The doctor smiled.
“You’re ready.”
Lucy stood nearby.
John leaned against the wall.
Gray waited near the doorway.
“Ready for what?” Seth asked.
Lucy smirked.
“Going home.”
The words settled over him.
Home.
Not healed.
Not fixed.
Not back to normal.
Just home.
For the first time since the explosion, that felt like enough.
Seth looked toward the window.
The future still scared him.
But it was finally a future.
And for now, that was all he needed.