Who: Jake and Aaron (and Bruce later on) Where: A field What: Wishes etc When: Monday morning Rating: sweary Status: Gdoc, to be completed in comments
Ever since they’d found the weapons shop, Jake and Aaron’s morning schedule had changed quite a bit. They still did Taekwondo first thing with younger Jake, but then he would go home to work on motorbikes with Rach, which left the other two to supposedly do more in-depth Taekwondo as a form of physio. Which they were kind of doing. Sort of. If physio involved fighting in a field with swords and shields and not so much of the Taekwondo.
Jake still couldn’t hold his sword with his right hand, so he had his wooden shield on his right arm and fought left-handed. He wasn’t sure if it was the god in him or if it was just his own knack of adapting to new weapons quite easily, but he was damn good with the sword. Aaron was, too, and every single one of their sparring sessions was hard-fought and very close, although Jake always managed to just about beat Aaron which was pretty much unheard of when they weren’t gods.
He had signalled for a quick water break during their current session, and was pacing about, trying to work out some sort of weird kink in his back. Nothing seemed to shift it, but it wasn’t exactly painful, so he tossed his water bottle back towards the fence and lifted his sword again. "C’mon, a couple more goes and then I’ll have to go check the doors for today."
***
For the duration of their godliness-ness, Aaron had had a bee in his bonnet about Jake suddenly being able to beat him. Every damn morning, he got his ass handed to him in the last five minutes - at least - of sparring. A drop kick or two would land him right back on his ass and Jake above him declaring another fucking victory. Aaron truly hated, hated losing. He was a little proud, but daren’t admit it, that Jake had gotten so good.
That morning though, he noticed something different about the way Jake was holding himself. He wasn’t moving quite as smoothly, as keenly as he had been. "I think we should call it a day, you’re not looking too good. You getting sick, man?"
***
"Huh? No, I'm fine. C'mon! One more, at least."
Jake was honestly surprised at what Aaron had said. Other than the little niggle in his back, he was completely fine. He picked his shield up from the ground and shifted his grip on his sword as he walked closer to Aaron. He moved into a ready position, his sword held high and his shield held in front and to the side of him, and he was almost bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited. So far, this god shit was pretty fucking cool.
"You and Marta gonna come round and see the kids later? You can have some of Jake’s cake if there’s any left," he said with a grin, and then gestured for Aaron to get ready to fight.
***
Aaron shrugged as Jake seemed to shake off whatever was bothering him and took a stance again, so Aaron mirrored him and did the same. His sword was shorter than Jake’s but lighter and sharper, definitely more than enough to do damage if they weren’t protected.
"Yeah, as long as I get to have the cake." He lunged for Jake with the sword, battling him with all his might and muscle, newly given by the god. "And Marta doesn’t get too broody or whatever. Kids just have that effect on me, so lord knows what they do to her."
***
"You'd better hope Tommy hasn't eaten it all!" Jake replied, and let Aaron bring the fight to him. He stood his ground and countered every single one of Aaron's attacks, letting his shield take the brunt of every hit and dampen the blows, and all the while, he was hoping that Aaron would start to tire himself out soon. When that didn't seem to be working, Jake just went on the offensive. His shield was as much a weapon as it was a means of defence, with the heavy metal boss in the middle that got shoved and rammed in Aaron's direction as much as possible, and his sword was constantly in motion.
At the start of the fight, Jake was able to ignore the weird feeling of not-quite-pain in his back and concentrate on what he was doing, but as the fight continued and blow after blow hit his shield, each impact seemed to make it worse. Strange tingles, like white-hot ice or cold fire, formed a knot around his lower back. Jake fought through it as best he could and continued to attack, his inner god urging the fight to continue.
***
Aaron kept going with his force behind the blows, taking hit by hit as the shield and the sword came into play. But as they sparred, Jake seemed to go more and more pale with each parry and thrust, though no pain or sweat appeared on his face. "Tommy’s sweet tooth is fucking legendary, right? Isn’t it all gone already?" he chuckled but his eyes flickered in worry for Jake.
Aaron’s sword jabbed out hard and reverberated against Jake’s shield, the force of it shaking Aaron’s left arm.
***
It was too much. The shockwaves sank down into his bones and into his spine, and the knot that had been forming suddenly tightened. The numbness that followed was horribly familiar to Jake, and his eyes widened as his legs went out from beneath him. He hit the ground with a thud and a bitten-off yell, and tried desperately to get back to his feet and continue fighting.
But he couldn’t. He couldn’t move his legs. He couldn’t stand up. He couldn’t feel the ground he was sprawled on. He couldn’t stop trying to stand, just like he couldn’t stop repeating "No!" over and over again. This was not happening, it was just some sort of glitch, or maybe he’d slept funny or something like that. He hadn’t even let go of his sword or his shield because he was in the middle of a fucking fight and his legs and lower back couldn’t be numb and useless, they just couldn’t!
***
Aaron panicked. For all his training, seeing his best friend - his brother in all but blood - collapse so suddenly and hard on the floor was gut wrenching. He shucked off the sword and shield and knelt down, trying to get Jake to a standing position again. "What the fuck..." he said as he saw Jake’s legs were unresponsive. "What the fuck’s going on..."
He tried not to scream out loud in frustration and anger for his friend’s situation. "What happened? Did I hit you somewhere?" he asked, feeling the horrid rush of guilt.
***
"You didn't... " he said, just as he finally let go of his sword and shield. He put his hands on his legs to try and move them, to see if maybe it would somehow kick-start his muscles and nerves and bones, but what he felt almost had him in tears.
Everything he'd done over the past year and a bit, every physio session, every time he'd gone swimming, every meter that he'd forced himself to walk, the restricted diet, all of it, it had all been wiped out. Every ounce of muscle he'd painfully rebuilt was gone. His legs were atrophied and useless once again, nothing more than skin and bones. "Oh fuck," he muttered as he stared down at his legs, his voice cracking as he struggled to hold things together.
***
Aaron was struggling to hold it together too. Seeing the anguish in his best friend’s eyes was worse than a knife to the gut; at least that would heal over time. This pain Jake was in went deeper than the numbness from his waist down. It may never heal, not while the island liked to play its games. "Come on man, we’re getting you to Bruce right the fuck now so we can figure this shit out."
He dumped off the shield and sword on the floor, forgotten and uncared about, and hauled Jake up over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. "I promise you one damn thing, Sully, that as long as I got breath in my body, I will do my best to take the pain away," He muttered almost inaudibly, squaring his shoulders up against the weight. "It’s gonna get figured out if I have to die trying."
***
Much like when he'd been dragged out of the link unit just after Hometree had been destroyed, Jake didn't really react to anything Aaron was saying or doing. He heard the words, but they didn’t mean anything to him. He just stared in front of him, focussing on nothing, and tried to get his head around what had just happened. He was lost in thoughts of how he was going to tell Neytiri or explain this to his younger self, and trying to tell himself it wasn't the end of things and he'd managed before, so he could manage again until he was back in his proper body, whenever that was. It wasn't really working, though.
After a few minutes, he blinked and turned his head to watch the buildings go past at speed. How fucking fast were they going? They were nearly at the hospital already? "...Aaron? The fuck are you doing, man?"
***
Aaron kept running with Jake on his back, knowing he had to get him into see Bruce just in case there was something more wrong with him than either of them suspected. He couldn’t risk something even worse turning into something deadly. "I told you man, taking you to Bruce. He’ll know what’s wrong, even if it’s just the island fucking your legs up again. I ain’t risking it being something worse hiding away beneath the paralysis. That’s how men in the field die."
***
He'd said that? Huh... "No, the... the speed. How're you... Is this your god-thing?"
They were at the hospital at that point, and he started struggling a bit, not really waiting on Aaron's answer about the running. There was no way he wanted people seeing him being carried, not when he wasn't bleeding out or dying or anything. If he was going back into a chair again, then the sooner he got it over with, the better. "Don't... Don’t carry me, Aaron. Get me a chair? Please..."