Scott's P.O.V.

"Alright Mr. Grassi. We've got all of your paperwork filled out, and we've already contacted a physical therapist out near your apartment, so you're free to go."

He nodded, not even looking at Cheyenne.

"Thank you for all your help," I whispered as I hugged her.

"It's no problem. By the way, since Mitch is going to need a wheelchair, all of the nurses chipped in and were able to afford one for him. It's waiting outside your room."

My jaw dropped open, and I hugged her tighter. "Thank you so much! I don't even know how to begin to repay you!"

She shook her head. "Don't worry about it! You two have been the highlight of my career! I've never seen two people so closely knit and that care about each other so much! It'd be a crime not to help out."

"Thanks again," I said, releasing her. "I hate to push you out, but I'm sure Mitch wants to change before he leaves and..."

She laughed. "Honey, you have no idea how many times I have helped grown men change. Heck, I've even given them sponge baths! But I was just leaving anyway. And if you ever need me, I wrote my number on a sticky note that I stuck to Mitch's wheelchair."

"Thanks! Bye Cheyenne!"

I shut the door and returned to Mitch's side, where he was struggling to get out of bed.

"Mitch! Wait!" I grabbed the duffel bag and threw it on the chair, unzipping it and getting a t-shirt out for him to put on. Once he had finished that, I grabbed his sweatpants out of the bag. Now for the hard part.

I put them around his ankles and then pulled them up to where he could reach them. He struggled to pull them up to his waist, and I helped him lift his midsection so he could pull them all the way up.

By the time he was done, he was breathing rapidly, and a thin layer of sweat covered his forehead.

"Will...this ever...get better?" He asked between gasps.

"Of course it will! You've just got to give it time."

He nodded, then slowly sat up in bed. "Will you hand me my shoes and socks?"

I handed him his socks first, then his shoes. He didn't struggle near as much with the shoes and socks as he did with the pants. I didn't like to see him struggle.

"Okay, you're all dressed. You ready to go?"

"Absolutely! I just want to go freshen up first. You've got my stuff right?"

I held up the duffel bag. "Right here! Just stay here while I go get your wheelchair."

Mitch groaned as I walked into the hallway.

Just as Cheyenne had said, there was a wheelchair sitting right outside the door. It had leopard print arm rest covers, and a few small stuffed animals attached to the handles. I smiled at how much the nurses in this building cared about Mitch.

With a little trouble, I steered the wheelchair into the room, where Mitch was sitting dejectedly on the edge of the hospital bed.

"Alright. You ready?"

He sighed, then nodded.

"Okay do you want me to just pick you up or-"

"I've got it," he snapped. He sighed as he began to pick himself up off of the bed.

"I'm sorry. I just really want to do this by myself."

He put his hand on the far handle, then started to swing himself over the side. I saw the wheelchair begin to tip with his weight, and I quickly swooped in to steady the chair. He fell into the seat in a weird position, wincing as he tried to reposition himself.

He didn't even look at me as he made his way to the bathroom. The left wheel caught on the wide doorframe on his way past, earning a frustrated sigh from Mitch before he continued on into the bathroom.

Mitch had already used a wheelchair to get into the bathroom, but it had been a hospital issued one. The one he was using now was his to keep, which was weirdly comforting. Cheyenne had moved us into a room that had a low sink so that Mitch could reach it better, but things were still difficult for him. Once he got some more upper body strength, everything would be a whole lot easier.

"Almost ready to go?" I shouted as I gathered up all of his belongings. I heard him spit, then shut off the water.

"Just one sec!"

I double checked to make sure that we had gotten everything until Mitch came back out of the bathroom with his bag in his lap.

"Let's get out of here," he muttered. I nodded and held the door open for him, then closed it behind me.

"Lead the way Scotty."

I walked in front of him and led him down the twisted maze of hospital hallways to the front desk. Nurse Cheyenne was behind the desk, filling out some prescriptions for us.

"Here are your prescriptions. Just take them to your local pharmacy and they should fill them for you. It's been a pleasure having you two here."

"Oh yeah. It was so fun to find out that I can't use my legs here!" Mitch said bitterly and rolled out the front door.

"Don't mind him. He's just a little grumpy. Honest, he appreciates everything that you've done for us."

She nodded. "Remember. Just call if you need anything."

"Definitely. Have a great day. And thanks again!"

"It was no problem honey!"

I walked out of the hospital and into the blinding sunlight to where Mitch was waiting by the automatic doors.

"You alright?"

"As alright as a newly disabled person can be. Let's just go alright?"

"Whatever you say," I muttered, leading him to where my car was parked.

I helped him into the passenger seat and struggled to fold up his wheelchair, setting it in the backseat and hopping into the drivers side.

"So we're going home now right?" A very annoyed Mitch asked from the passenger side.

"Um...no."

He raised his eyebrow in question.

"Well, our apartment isn't big enough for you to get around in your wheelchair, so I arranged for you to stay with Kirstie for however long it takes."

"So you're just pawning me off onto someone else?"

"No Mitch I-"

"No I get it. You don't want to have I deal with me, so you're getting rid of me!"

"That's not what I'm doing at all! I'm trying to make this easier for you!"

He scoffed. "And easier for you."

I gritted my teeth. "I don't understand why you're getting so mad at me! I'm trying, alright? Can't you accept that? It's not like I'm abandoning you or anything. You're just not going to be staying with me!"

"Whatever."

"Alright look Mitch. I know that all of this is hard for you, but that doesn't give you a right to accuse me of not caring about you. Just because you're not going to be staying with me doesn't mean that I'm not going to be helping you. You're supposed to be going to physical therapy three times a week, so I'll be there to take you every time. And I'll come to visit you all the time! So could you just calm down?"

He rolled his eyes as I pulled up into Kirstie's driveway. "Yeah okay. Just get my wheelchair out of the back."

I locked my jaw as I got out of the car, slamming the door behind me and pulling Mitch's wheelchair out of the backseat roughly.

"Here," I mumbled, opening Mitch's door. He carefully held into the handle on the top of the car and slowly shifted his body over the side of the seat, his arms wobbling as he started to lower himself down.

"Careful!" I cautioned him as his arms shook dangerously. He rolled his eyes, but his arms continued to wobble. Seeing that he would fall, I caught him at the last second and lowered him into the chair.

"I was doing fine!" He grouched.

"You were about to fall!"

"Why can't you just let me do things by myself? Is that so hard?"

"Why is it so hard for you to just accept my help?"

"I need to learn to do this stuff on my own! If the doctors are right, and I never get better, you can't be taking care of me all the time!"

"And why not?"

He opened his mouth to reply, then snapped it shut again.

"Mitch I'll always be here to take care of you. I get that you want to do this yourself, but you can't keep getting angry with me because I'm trying to help you. Just please, cut me some slack. Stay with Kirstie. It's going to be like a sleepover. You know, like we used to do in high school!"

He grinned. "Right. Look, I'm-"

"Don't worry about it. Just try and relax, okay?"

He laughed. "Alright. Let's go."

I grabbed Kirstie's KitKat bar out of the car so I could give it to her before I left. We walked up to the door, still silent, but it was a comfortable silence. I rang the doorbell and waited what seemed like forever before Kirstie came to the door, breathless and flustered.

"Um, hi?" Mitch said, giggling.

"Hey! Sorry, I forgot you guys said you were on your way a little while ago."

"What are you...oh!" I began to ask, but Avi suddenly appeared behind Kirstie, with the same flustered look. Mitch raised an eyebrow, and I looked over Avi's half buttoned shirt, smug grin, and messy hair.

"Were you two...?" Mitch asked, grinning.

Kirstie's eyebrows shot up. "No! Uh...maybe?"

Avi laughed. "Definitely."

Mitch wrinkled his nose. "Scott, are you sure I have to stay here? If this is going to be a normal thing then-"

"It's not!" Kirstie interjected. "Just get inside you sarcastic jerk!"

I laughed as Mitch wheeled himself through the doorway past Kirstie and Avi.

"So you two-"

"Don't say it!" Kirstie shouted shrilly, slapping my arm.

"Alright! Jeez!" I rubbed my arm dramatically. "I'm going to be bringing the rest of Mitch's stuff that he needs by here later. Please try not to do anymore of...that."

Avi smiled and wrapped his arms around Kirstie's waist. "No promises."

I rolled my eyes, then handed her the KitKat bar. "I got this at the store the other day, but I haven't seen you since then."

She eyed it uncomfortably, but eventually took it.

"What? Did I buy a poisoned one or something?"

She shook her head. "No! It's fine. Thanks!"

"No problem. Alright, I'll see you in a little while with the rest of Mitch's stuff."

"Bye!"

"No more 'cuddling'." I put air quotes around cuddling, to which Kirstie blushed.

"Scott!"

I grinned. "Bye Kirst!"