Mrs Beakor helped him into the kitchen and sat him down at the table. It wasn't the first time he'd been there, in that chair, eating a meal that she'd prepared for him. Yet he felt like he really wasn't there, like this was just a dream that he merely existed in. He picked at pancakes and bacon, nibbling without tasting, merely going through the motions in a daze.

Until he stabbed himself in the face with a fork. The sudden pain jolted him back into reality, and he focused on the fork with wide eyes.

"You okay?" There was a smile on Mrs Beakor's face, but the concern had only grown in her eyes.

No.

"Think so." He eyed the fork, wondering how he'd managed such a clumsy feat as poking himself in the face. It was then he realized that he had maple syrup and eggs on his face. And not just a little amount, either. Heat flooded his face. "Uh..."

Mrs Beakor passed him a napkin. "I think we might have to get you a bib, kiddo."

Her teasing didn't help his embarrassment in the slightest. He hastily wiped at his face, getting the worst of the mess. Then because she was still watching him, he dug into the pancakes on his plate.

The first two bites went fine. The third, he missed his mouth. Pancake smeared on his cheek. He froze, startled. Had he misjudged things? After wiping his face yet again, he ate carefully, guiding the fork with intense focus.

It went fine, until he missed his mouth again. What the heck? Was his awareness and sense of self that messed up?

His expression must have been a thing to see, because Mrs Beakor started laughing softly. He scowled. "This is stupid."

"Naw, kiddo," she passed him another napkin. "It's entertaining. For me, at least."

"That's great. ' I can't walk, and now I can't even feed myself."

Not to mention the fact that the weird clan mark sent spikes of pain down his arm every time he moved it. At least he was getting used to that, but he didn't think he'd get used to having the dexterity of a drunken fish.

"You had a seizure," Mrs Beakor reminded him. "And it scrambled your brains to the point you fell into a coma. For three days. It could have been worse."

"Yes, but-"

"But what? You're alive, and you'll heal. That's more than a lot of people can say."

Seth closed his mouth. She had a good point. He's survived. Maybe not in one piece, but he was still alive. His eyes might have changed, but it was still subtle enough to not be too strange. And he'd get over this weird clumsiness. Probably.

He pushed some eggs around on his plate with the fork. A frown creased his features. "But nothing works right. It's not just me being clumsy or weak from laying around. It's like walking's suddenly become rocket science."

"Hmm." She considered this. "Is this what happened a couple weeks ago?"

He stared at her, startled. He guessed that she was referring to when he'd gotten Maun's Gift. That had shaken things up, making him stagger around like a drunk for a couple of days. It hadn't lasted too long, though, so he didn't think anyone really noticed it much.

Apparently, he was wrong. "Maybe?

"Did you have a seizure then as well?" She asked. When he didn't immediately answer, she lifted a single scraggly brow. "Seth?"

It was a good question. He gave a one shoulder shrug, wary of further agitating his marked shoulder. "I'm not sure. Maybe?"

"Do you have a history of them?"

He shook his head. As far as he remembered, he'd been as healthy as ox. Well, a mildly overweight, out of shape ox, but a relatively healthy one all things considered.

"I see. Well, we'll just have to keep an eye on you." She pointed at his plate of half-eaten food. "Finish that, and then I'll tell you my idea."

Eating was the last thing he felt like doing. Especially when he ended up wearing more than he ate. But he humored her, because now he was curious. And slightly worried. "You have an idea?"

"What, is that so shocking?" She scoffed, as if offended. "Eat your breakfast, kiddo."

He rolled his eyes and ate his breakfast.

As it turned out, Mrs Beakor's idea wasn't a half bad one. Jake had a twin brother who owned a small, private gym. He often worked with people who had unique situations—Seth wondered what that meant, but she wouldn't go into details when he asked—and she was certain that Jake's brother would be willing to take him on as a client.

At first, he was more than a little skeptical.

"How will going to a gym help? I can't even keep my balance. Doing weights or exercise or whatever is going to be impossible."

"That's not all there is to a gym, kiddo." She swatted him upside the head. Gently, at least, but the meaning was there: shut up and listen.

He shut up and listened.

"This one's a bit different. Think of it as physical therapy. Chadley's really good. He helped me a lot when I broke a hip. Had me back on the street in no time. If anyone can get you mobile again, it'll be him."

"You broke a hip?" Seth asked, intrigued. "How'd you do that? Get into a gang fight?"

Mrs Beakor grinned. "A fight at the library, actually. But close enough. "

He just shook his head. Who knew if that was true or not? With her, it could have been anything. "Well, if you think it'll help, I'll give it a try."

And hopefully, maybe he'd at least be able to stop stabbing himself in the face when he ate.

"Great! I'll give Jake a call."

He watched as she dialed the number on her cell phone, feeling a bit guilty. Didn't she realize it was during work hours at The Grubbery? Jake was probably super busy since Seth had no choice but to take sick time off.

Jake answered almost immediately, for Mrs Beakor grinned brightly and said, "Jake, how's it going? That's good. Hey, I have a proposal for your brother. I'm calling it: Operation Twinkletoes."

Seth choked on his own spit. It ended up in a coughing fit, but Mrs Beakor didn't even look his way.

"Uh-huh. I thought so too. Right. Let me know. Thanks." She hung up, and finally turned to him. "Jake will talk to him. In the meantime, let's get you in the tub. It's starting to smell in here and I'm positive it's not me."

Seth coughed even harder. It was at that moment that he started to wish he was still in a coma.

***

Two days later, Seth found himself outside a nondescript brick building sandwiched between two other nondescript brick buildings. The middle building looked cold and foreboding, with bars on the inside of the glass door and single window. A sign in the door, fitted between glass and bars, coolly stated CHAD'S PAD.

It wasn't exactly inviting.

If he was pushing his own wheelchair, he would have turned around and headed back to the car. These were the kind of places where criminal overlords ran illegal business operations. For all he knew, Jake's brother was part of the mob and this gym was just a front.

He sat stiffly in the chair, eyes glued to the door. Mrs Beakor went forward and opened it, not concerned in the slightest with how shady this whole thing looked. Behind him, Jake pushed the wheelchair forward.

"Ah, it's been a while since I've been here." That was Tripp, looking around with a light smile.

Seth twitched. Did all three of them have to come for this? He would have been fine with just Jake or even Mrs Beakor, but all three? This was just excessive.

Jake pushed him inside. Seth watched the bars on the open door go past. He wondered if he'd ever get to leave through this door again.

"Jake," came a quiet greeting. A mountainous shadow shifted before them, and suddenly a huge, dark-skinned man loomed before them. "Hel. Tripp. Hello."

Seth blinked. If he hadn't been so sure that Jake was behind him, he would have thought the man before them was Jake. They were identical right down to the gray eyes and over-muscled terminator build. However, there were differences, once he looked closer. This man was shorter, not as bulky, and he had a square set face with a neatly trimmed dark beard. His manner was steady and calm, more stoic and grounded than Jake's quiet force of presence.

"Chadley," Jake said from behind Seth.

The aforementioned Chadley smiled faintly, showing a flash of strong white teeth. Then he looked down at Seth, and came forward with soundless steps. He offered a hand. "Hello," he said gently.

Those gray eyes seemed somewhat familiar, and Seth felt reassured without even knowing why. He took the hand, finding the grip strong yet steady. "Hi. I'm Seth."

Chadley nodded seriously, then looked to Mrs Beakor. "Noon."

"Got it," she said. "We'll pick you up later, Seth. Have fun!"

Twisting in the chair, Seth saw Mrs Beakor grab Tripp's hand and all but drag him out. Tripp grinned, going willingly. Whatever those two were up to, Seth was 100% sure he didn't want to know.

"I'll stay," Jake said. He shrugged off his jacket, and went to hang it up on a hook by the door. "Okay?"

"Okay," Chadley agreed. He then returned his full attention to Seth. "Walk?"

Great. Seth almost laughed in disbelief. My therapist is a guy who talks even less than Jake! He wondered what conversations between the two were like.

"Seth?" Chadley gestured towards Seth's legs. "Walk?"

Taking a guess at what he was asking, Seth said, "Not really. I can stand okay, but I just fall over if I try to move."

"Show." Chadley held out a hand. It was clear what he wanted.

Seth tried not to make a face. This wasn't going to go well. Yet he reached out and took the offered hand, grateful for the offered support. He stood, wobbling a little, but quickly regained his balance with Chadley's stabilizing aid.

Then he tried to walk. Immediately, his feet did something weird and he pitched forward. Chadley stopped him by grabbing his shoulders, practically setting him up back on his feet like he was a doll.

Seth couldn't help the wince as his left shoulder throbbed at the touch. Chadley let go, but kept close.

"Again," he said, and this time, he was closely watching Seth's feet.

Seth sighed inwardly. This was going to be a long day.

***

"So, how did it go?"

With a relieved groan, Seth sank into Mrs Beakor's couch. Never had it felt so good to just sit somewhere soft and comfy. "It went okay, I guess."

"Yeah? What'd he say?" She flopped down beside him, and put her feet up onto the coffee table. Her bare feet.

He grimaced. Why couldn't she cover those gnarly things with socks? Or slippers, at least? "Not much. He's worse than Jake. I hardly know what he's trying to say most of the time."

Mrs Beakor laughed, eyes twinkling. "Those two have their own way of communicating. You'll figure it out."

"I guess."

"So, tell me. Did he help or what?"

Seth allowed a tired smile to tug at his lips. "I think so, yeah."

After repetitively trying and failing to take a step, Chadley had him sit and do several exercises, some of which entailed moving a foot to touch Chadley's hand. Chadley would change position, or even slowly move it away, forcing Seth to follow.

It wasn't easy. None of his muscles seemed to work like he thought they should, but after a variety of exercises, he thought his coordination had improved a little. At the very least, his limbs felt a little less alien.

"Good." She patted his knee. "Now, how about some lasagna for dinner?"

He perked up. "Yes, please!"

She rose, heading to the kitchen. "I'll make some, but you have to promise to watch a movie with me after."

"Is it going to be one of those dumb horror movies?"

Her voice came cheerfully from the kitchen. "You bet!"

He groaned. Those were awful. But if it was the price he had to pay for lasagna, then he'd do it. It was worth it.

Leaning back into the couch, he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of Mrs Beakor working in the kitchen. It would take time, but he would get stronger. He would get better.

But tonight, he'd start with getting some answers.