Roy awoke the next morning to find that someone had put the blanket back over his legs. One of the orderlies probably thought he kicked it off during the night. Not everyone took the time to read a patient's charts. He was a number to most. Patient 15. All they knew was that he couldn't leave the bed; more like, they wouldn't let him leave. Not even to piss, which made Roy feel so vulnerable he could just die right there. He had to keep reminding himself that these people did this everyday. He was just another patient to them. If standing, Roy was tall, around 6 foot 5. It took two orderlies to get him out of the bed to X-Rays. Although he was quite thin, he was also fit from working on his family's farm half his life. It must've been a change for these orderlies used to lifting up the frail and elderly and weak every day.

Nurse Beckie and an orderly wheeled Roy back to his room, Beckie cheerfully whistling an unknown melody. Roy wanted to punch her for being so happy. He felt like a child, being pushed down the hospital corridor. He was perfectly capable of pushing himself but Beckie had stopped him and put his arms onto his lap, chuckling as if he was mentally incapacitated that he couldn't comprehend how wheelchairs worked.

They passed Nurse MacKenzie, briskfully walking on the other side of the hallway. She looked up and smiled at Roy, and he immediately smiled back without question. It was the first time he smiled since waking up in the hospital, but it immediately faded as it turned into the new routine of getting Roy back into bed. He hated being manhandled, and Beckie was starting to notice how pissed off Roy was looking. And just like the day before with her, the orderly apologized after bending his leg in an uncomfortable position.

"Sorry for what?" Roy smirked as he got situated. "Really, what are you sorry for?"

The orderly's eyes went to the floor. He was more than likely aware of Roy's condition. After all, why couldn't he just walk to the bed himself? You couldn't see his injury. He had no casts or splints or bandages. He could've had Tuberculosis for all these people knew. But it was obvious when one of his legs dangled limply off the bed, the same leg which the orderly apologized for.

Roy lifted it himself onto the bed, dropping it and not once making eye contact with the orderly. It would've taken Roy a lot to admit it took more effort than he thought. He didn't realize legs were that heavy. The lead aliens.

Nurse Beckie didn't really have an expression on her face. She stood chewing on her nails again, almost like she was waiting for permission from the orderly to leave. Yeah, she had to be on Roy duty. He bet she just hated him. After all, he couldn't do anything. It was up to them. And it made him want to die.

"I-uh-can I get you anything?" The orderly draped the blanket over Roy's legs and he chucked under his breath. He slowly nodded in return.

"Ring the bell if you do," Nurse Beckie reminded him. She smiled, looked at the clock, and followed the orderly back into the hallway, suddenly jogging back to grab Roy's chart and papers. "You know, it's gonna get better."

"Perhaps," Roy told her. He felt like a prisoner in his own body. He didn't know if he could deal with being manhandled every day like this. When could he leave the hospital? Could he leave? Would they let him? His apartment had stairs. Dr. Sharpe would probably shake his head.

Left alone again, Roy could only wait for Dr. Sharpe with his X-Rays. He stared down at the bumps under the blankets, the only thing reminding him that his legs were actually down there. He took the blanket off again, touching his knees, squeezing, picking one leg up to make it bend only for it to fall back down again.

No, he thought. Work, dammit!

He needed to train his aliens. Maybe they just needed to be trained and in time they would listen. He couldn't take it anymore. He scooted to the side of the bed, bringing his legs down till his feet touched the floor. He looked to make sure they were flat, not out of place, not bent. Roy's brow creased. His back didn't even hurt.

Gripping the nightstand, Roy pulled himself up, the other hand on the mattress. It wasn't working. His knees had buckled beneath him so only his arms held him up.

You have one job, legs. One goddamn job.

He fell back on the bed. The standing attempt made him lightheaded and nauseous.

Maybe I did it too fast, he thought. Or it could've been that he was too tall to steady himself on both the nightstand and the mattress. No problem. He could steady himself on the wheelchair that was still judging him at his alien training attempts.

It was just far enough over that he could reach it and roll it closer to him. Roy scooted a little bit farther, bending slightly to grab the back of the wheelchair.

Almost...almost...

As Roy finally got his fingers onto the back of the wheelchair it was too late to realize that he scooted too far forward. His body fell to the floor with a thud.

Well...fuck.

Great, he thought. I'm a fucking mess. Yet again another terrible mistake. He felt pathetic. None of the nurses or orderlies had heard him fall. Or saw him, which saved him another instance of humiliation. He couldn't ring the bell. It was on the other side of the bed, and too high up to reach. Unless he crawled to the other side and found a way to reach it.

He hated himself. A 26 year old man sitting on the floor with no idea on how to get up. What a time to be alive.

But now was the task of getting back up. He could do the whole crawling thing or find a way to get his body up on this side. Roy wracked his mind for all the possible ways. He was grateful for the upper body strength he acquired from bailing hay all his life. In that instance he wondered how his life would've turned out if he hadn't moved to California to audition for the moving pictures. Maybe this was going to happen anyway, like falling off a silo. Roy chuckled, but it didn't help.

He decided not to get to the bell. His pride stopped him. He didn't need help. He could do it on his own. If he could get into the wheelchair, he could transfer onto the bed and pretend like this alien training incident never happened.

Roy situated his legs under him in a kneeling position and attempted to grab onto the wheels, but lost his balance. As that happened, he let go of the chair and it began to roll away. He was in such a position that the same throbbing pain came back in his spine and he winced.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Don't these things have breaks?

"Hey. Man. What are you doing."

Roy's heart sunk. A familiar voice that sounded like a rich harp. He felt his face turn as red as a tomato.

"Oh, god."

"Roy, god." MacKenzie peered over the side of the bed. "Do you have to pee or like, is there a spider or something-"

"Don't ask questions. Just get me up. Please."

He couldn't believe this beautiful girl had to see him like this, but MacKenzie seemed unphased. Instead she seemed amused, which started to piss Roy off.

MacKenzie put her arms around Roy's torso and whispered in his ear. "Maybe we're giving you too much morphine."

She lifted him up under the arms and back onto the bed and Roy sighed, trying not to show any signs of defeat. There weren't any orderlies to put his legs back up. In fact, Roy was rather surprised that MacKenzie, who was probably only a few inches over five feet, managed to get him onto the bed without a struggle.

"Don't. I can do it." Roy lifted his legs up onto the bed one at a time. And even in this vulnerable moment, he was rather proud of himself that he picked up the aliens by himself. MacKenzie didn't act like Roy's body was property of the hospital. He felt a bit of dignity, if he had any left at all.

MacKenzie brought the wheelchair back over and positioned it next to the bed. "The breaks are here. Next time that happens. You know you just had surgery yesterday. You shouldn't even be bending over, let alone getting into your wheelchair by yourself." She didn't sound patronizing; she sounded personable. "What were you doing anyway?"

"Felt like walkin'," Roy said.

"You know you can ask for help, right?" MacKenzie put the blanket over Roy. His feet stuck out. She got it. "And listen, I don't know when you'll be able to walk. And I won't sugar coat it, I don't know if you'll walk. But these people are here to help you, okay?" She opened up the window, a cool breeze blowing her hair back gently. "And like I said, you just got here. And you'll probably be here for awhile until you get better. So get used to it."

Roy raised an eyebrow.

"Ring the bell if you need anything." MacKenzie looked out the window, squinting into the sun. She didn't say goodbye when she left but apologized when she nearly ran into Dr. Sharpe and Nurse Beckie.

"I've got your X-Rays," Dr. Sharpe held them up and Nurse Beckie smiled. "You'll need one more operation, then we can really get a good look at the spinal cord. It wasn't a clean break, if you look here. We had to take out several parts of the vertebrae."

Roy's spine was near shattered. It was like a vase had fallen to the floor and broke into a million pieces. "I thought..." he trailed off, "I didn't think the bridge was that high..." He really did it this time, Roy thought. "I suppose I misjudged it."

"There's no use dwelling in the past," Dr. Sharpe remarked. Beckie agreed with him and yanked off Roy's blanket. He could sense Roy's silent distress, even though he was trying to hide it. "You'll go under in a few days; the swelling should abate by then."

"Yeah," Roy nodded, his response barely a whisper.

Dr. Sharpe shut the door behind him and Roy was left alone with Beckie. He wanted to punch her again.

"Listen, Mr. Walker. I gotta work with you here. We don't want your legs to atrophy."

He would've have kicked her if he could but rolled his eyes instead. He tried to focus on the ceiling instead of Beckie bending his leg and massaging the back of his ankle. At least the ceiling was pretty.

"So," Beckie said trying to break the awkward silence, "you were in the moving pictures?"

"Just once," Roy quickly responded.

"Is that how you fell?"

"Yeah."

"I broke my foot playing croquette once. I totally know what you're going through."

"Is that so," Roy said as he pulled himself up to sit straighter. If he really concentrated, he bet he could balance himself there for awhile. Beckie would probably laugh at him, so he just stared at the ceiling.

"This isn't even the first part of rehabilitation. We just don't want your legs to start deteriorating."

"I know it."

"Yeah," Beckie smiled.

Roy continued to stare at the ceiling, following the cracks of years gone by. Occasionally he would close his eyes. It was the only positive thing about his injury; If he just didn't pay attention, he wouldn't even notice what Nurse Beckie was doing, what anyone was doing to him. Because of course, he was their property. And of course, they wouldn't listen even if he spoke up.

The door creaked open. "Beckie, they need you in X-Rays."

Beckie looked up, meeting eyes with MacKenzie. MacKenzie. Sweet, sweet MacKenzie. Someone Roy knew he'd never want to punch, despite the fact that she always seemed salty.

"I got this," Nurse MacKenzie said.

"Oh! Thanks," Beckie smiled, happy to oblige to her orders. "Who, what?"

"Er, Patient 19," MacKenzie told her, and Beckie nearly flew past.

"I like Patient 19," Beckie cackled. There was a thud in the hallway. Probably tripped over her own feet, Roy thought to himself. Just calm the fuck down, no one in this place is going anywhere...

"So," Nurse MacKenzie pulled a chair up next to Roy's bed and crossed her arms. "You fell."

"It's true," Roy said. He felt different with MacKenzie now that she was sitting. All these people ever did was stand over him. "Aren't you gonna, uh, finish what Bertha was starting. Or are you just gonna sit there and stare at me."

MacKenzie laughed. "Beckie. Yeah, she's something else. Do you want me to aid in your recovery?" She said it in an almost sarcastic tone. "I won't then. I just came in to say hello." She studied Roy's face intensely. The prolonged eye contact made him uncomfortable. "We'll get you outside soon. It ain't much fun being stuck inside all day. Healing takes time. It's only been two days, right?"

"Yep," Roy stared across the room watching ill patients walk by. Walking. He yearned for the sun to warm his face. To dig his toes in the dirt and feel the hot cobblestone street under his feet.

"You don't say much," Nurse MacKenzie narrowed her eyes.

"Maybe I have nothing to say," Roy scoffed.

"Okay." She got up to shut the window and as she began to leave, stop to put the blanket back over Roy. "In that case, I'll let you rest. Ring the bell if you need anything."

Roy couldn't tell if he liked her or not.