Levi's POV...

My sleep was sporadic last night, so when I woke this morning, I almost started to panic again. I feel trapped in my bed, like my arms and legs are tied down and there is no way out.  It takes every ounce of effort to try and calm myself down long enough to focus on my right arm. I suck in a deep breath and try to will my brain into making my right arm move. I've never had to conscientiously make any part of my body move before, but here I am, staring at my right arm and telling it to move. Oh, thank God, I exhale when my arm lifts up off the bed slightly and my elbow bends. Hesitation stops me from turning to my left arm, and I feel a chocking lump form in the back of my throat.

Thoughts of my left side not moving start to flood my mind and my breathing picks up again. I feel like my whole body is shaking inside, even though I can see it isn't. I don't know what's happening to me. It's like half of my body is dead and the sensations I can feel are freaking me out. My heart is going to bolt from my chest at any moment. I need someone to squeeze me...I need Emma to hug me tightly and not let go. Damnit! This is too much!

Just as I'm about to yell for help, Charlotte walks in.

"Good morning Levi," she says with a perfectly calm voice.

Her smile is so genuine, it lights up her beautiful face. I start to release some of the panic that was building inside me from just her presence here. How does she do that?

She must've caught my panic-stricken face when she entered the room because she picks up her pace as she makes her way over to me and grabs my hand and bicep.  Yes! Keep doing that, my other arm too, and my body. Hold me so it doesn't feel like my arms and legs are falling off. Fuck! Where's Emma?

"Are you ok? Are you in any pain?" She asks me. I can't tell her I want her to embrace me, she'll think I'm crazy and it wouldn't be appropriate.

" I... I didn't sleep well," I respond instead. I don't know how to explain to her that it's not the pain that's bothering me. There are no words to accurately describe what is happening to me.

"I brought you your breakfast. Emma called to say she's coming in early, so I thought she could help you this morning?" Her thoughtful multi-colored eyes are peering into mine, waiting for me to say something. Emma better hurry up.

"Thank you," is all I muster.

Charlotte sets up the food tray in front of me and says, "I will be back a little later, I have a few other people I have to see this morning." No, don't leave. I don't want to be alone, I don't want to be in this bed, I don't want to be paralyzed.

And like a paranoid idiot, I frantically ask, "When do you think you'll be back?"

My chest feels tight and my voice is shaky. I know I must look desperate, but I need her to stay, I need the calm feeling she brings into my room.

She firmly places her hand on my right shoulder as if she knows applying pressure seems to help me, although I need much more than that to fix what's going on with my body. Her reassuring words lightly flow from her mouth, "I promise I will see you again by lunch time."

I watch Charlotte start to leave my room only to hear her voice again, this time she's speaking to Emma right outside my door.

Why is Emma just standing at my door? How long has she been standing there? She needs to be in here with me, I need her more than ever now.

Emma finally walks in, cautiously assessing her surroundings, eying me up and down. Charlotte is guiding her further into my room. She's walking too slow, like she is afraid of something. Why is she acting like this, she's normally confident and demanding, today she's anything but. I'm happy she's here, but I don't like seeing her timid like this. Her solemn mood is already killing me. Get in here and wrap your arms around me!

I reach my right hand up towards her the best I can and show her a brave smile, "Hey baby, I'm glad you're here, did you sleep well?" I ask her, hoping that will ease her worry.

"Come sit here next to me," I instruct, surprising myself when my hand moves up and down to pat the bed.

She instantly starts smiling when she too notices my hand movement and makes her way over to me. She doesn't hug me or even touch me, she only scans my body as if she's trying to find signs of life. I need to remember that this is hard on her too, she probably has no idea what to do. If Charlotte wasn't in the room, I'd tell Emma to climb up onto my bed and lay her body on top of mine and embrace me because that's what I need from her.

Instead, I watch the curiosity sweep over her face as she stares at my breakfast tray.

"These are very odd utensils," she says to me.

I try to tell her that they are shaped that way so it's easier for her to help me eat, but she instantly jerks back and snickers, "what?"

My heart instantly breaks from the disgusted look on her face. The pain in my chest returns and I drop my head down, unable to look at her and sigh, "Well that's only if you want to help me eat."

Emma quickly retracts her facial expressions and forces a smile upon her lips. So far, everything about this scene is uncomfortable.

Thankfully, Charlotte hangs around a little longer and shows Emma how to help me with my breakfast. My arm movement is uncoordinated and shaky when I try to reach for the utensil in front of me. Charlotte notices and quickly places both of her hands around my upper arm and uses her thumbs to make small circular strokes down to my fingers. My arm stops quivering and Charlotte helps me grasp my fork. She shows Emma what to do and after Emma feels somewhat confident about helping me, Charlotte leaves the room.

I'm pleased Emma hasn't run out of the room and is here helping me, but I can't help feeling like she's scared of me. I know she must be nervous and doesn't know how to act around me, this is new and awkward for both of us. I just want to wrap my arms tightly around her and tell her everything will be fine, or better yet, I want her to wrap her arms around me and let me know she is here for me no matter what. I don't have a disease and paralysis isn't contagious, I need her to show her love for me. But she barely touches me or looks at me and all I sense is hurt and anger radiating from inside me, as we spend the next thirty agonizing minutes eating breakfast.

Nate walks into the room and saves us from emotionally hurting each other any further and informs us he's doing my first therapy treatment today. Emma hesitantly but surprisingly offers to help Nate do therapy to my right arm.

At least she's trying to be supportive at the moment. She still looks scared as shit, but I give her credit for trying. That's all I ask for.

I try to help her as much as I can with my right arm as she copies everything Nate is doing with my left arm. My left arm feels nothing except that irritating pins and needles feeling you get after your arm falls asleep, as Nate massages it. Not only is the feeling aggravating me, but the fact that my left arm is totally ignoring me when I try to lift it, is wrecking havoc on my mental state. So, I focus on Emma instead. Her flawless face is completely engaged in what she's trying doing for me and I love her for it. Her bright blue eyes looking at Nate then to me waiting for approval. Maybe she needed a little time to get used to me like this or maybe Nate showing her how to do these things is helping her realize that she can help me.

Nate breaks the silence again and starts asking questions about our new movie. Emma's face lights up as she gladly answers all his questions and then some. I chime in now and then, as long as this keeps Emma's cooperative mood going.

Nate's next grasp startles me, "What the fuck Nate!"

What the fuck is he doing? He's got his hands up near my groin, and I'm caught off guard with pure embarrassment. Emma is doing the same thing to my right thigh and she looks as mortified as I do when her fingers brush up against my incontinent brief. I want to plant my fist into Nate's jaw for letting this happen, but I don't want to scare Emma more than she already is. Plus, I can't get myself to physically punch him anyway and it makes me furious. So, I decide to silently glare at him instead. Nate quickly notices my mood and picks up the pace as he moves towards massaging my lower leg, ankle and foot; Emma doing the same to my right. That doesn't really help the fact that Emma has figured out that I'm wearing a diaper.

Finally, things get a little less disturbing as Nate keeps the focus on bending my knee and moving my ankle, before concluding the treatment.

"Are we done?" My voice is harsh as I narrow my eyes towards Nate again.

"Not yet, we have a few more things to take care of before we get you up into a wheelchair," Nate adds.

Emma drops my practically dead right leg as soon as Nate says the word 'wheelchair'. Her face pales before I hear her cough out something about calling my parents.

Fuuuuck...I exaggerate in my head as Nate ends therapy and abruptly tells us he's going to toilet me too. Is he trying to see how fast she'll run out of this room?Emma's eyes almost pop out of her perfected face. I know she can't handle this shit, hell, I can't handle it either. It's not like I have any other choice though.

Emma briefly plants a kiss to my forehead then quickly exits the room. She either thinks she's giving me privacy, or she is completely mortified by the fact I can't take a piss in the bathroom on my own. Either way, it's probably better she leaves, I'm sure she needs a break from all of this. I want her to stay though, I want her to sit on the bed with me and wrap her arms around me.... kiss me and tell me we'll be alright.

Why did this fucking happen!