It had been a few days since Fao had been up in the middle of the night, putting in an NG tube for Steve so he’d stop being so stubborn and actually get some fluids and nutrition into him. He knew the older man didn’t talk much about his history, but Fao really did hate not knowing what was going on. Steve hadn’t told him much, just that it had happened before and there was nothing to worry about. Fao struggled to believe that - he’d been so stubborn about it, and if he was anything like the rest of them, he hid more than he should.
The tube was still in, Steve still not over the flare enough to manage without it, but he’d get better with time. He wasn’t at work, choosing to take some last minute leave and focus on catching up on stuff in the basement. There was a lot of admin that needed doing, surprisingly, and it was a chance to get on top of it.
Fao was down there with him, sorting through notes and making sure everything was filed properly and up to date. There was a comfortable silence settled on the pair, both just going about their business and happy not needing to fill the silence.
"I don't remember what happened, y’know?" Steve spoke up.
Fao lifted his head. “Don’t remember what happened when?” He asked.
"My accident. I've read the files, heard what they said, but I'm missing so much. I didn't recognise Bel for a month."
“Oh.” Fao said softly. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”
"I owe you it." He sighed heavily. "Give me a second, I'll get the file."
“Still, it’s… It’s big, I know you don’t like telling us.”
"Why do I get to hide my records? Keep all these secrets?" He shrugged. "That's not fair."
“Because you wrote your own records.” Fao said lightly.
"Doesn't mean I can do whatever."
“Kinda does, though.”
"You deserve to know."
“If you want me to.” Fao said. “I’m glad you trust me enough to share with me.”
"Of course I trust you. I know you’re not blood, but you might as well be a son."
Fao couldn’t help the tightness in his throat at that. “Jesus, don’t start.”
"I'll go grab the file." He cleared his own throat, heading off into his office.
Fao sipped his tea, awkwardly chewing his lip whilst he waited. He didn’t want Steve to feel like he had to share. He was entitled to his privacy.
Steve returned with his file, several times larger than the usual public one. He dropped it by Fao, apologising under his breath. "My stuff is all in there, all the hospital records."
Fao looked at the thick file, raising an eyebrow. “Would you prefer if we went through it together?”
"If you want to. I can…I can tell you what I remember, and then what they told me, if you prefer?"
“Whatever is easiest for you, honestly.”
He managed a laugh as he pulled up a chair. "Neither are."
“We really don’t have to, Steve.”
"It's fine. We…we were on our way back, we must have already have evaced our patient because I was definitely alone. I don’t know if they just misjudged it, or got distracted, or something else happened, but we fucked our landing. Our right wing took the barrier down, we spun and smashed everything in our path, basically. There was shit everywhere, as much as we'd secured it, at that speed, it was useless. I don’t know what knocked me out, but I had several impact points, so it had a good go at taking me out."
Fao’s breath hitched. “You were RAF, right?”
"Yeah. More medical, not that I was much use at that point."
“Bit difficult at that point.” He murmured.
Steve's focus was on something Fao couldn’t see, long in the past. "My seatbelts were locked, they couldn't get me out quick enough and I don't know what happened with the cutter. There was a delay, I ended up with second and third degree burns down my back and thigh from it. Broken ankle, fractured T2, T3, dislocated shoulder, wrist and elbow, and, uh, obviously my head."
Fao nodded slowly. “That’s… a lot.”
"I don't remember the month before it still, but at the time, there was nothing. I didn't recognise Bella, or the twins. Not that they saw me at first, I was too much of a state."
Steve rarely spoke about his family from before. Fao swallowed thickly, looking down. “I can’t even imagine.”
"Took me six months to get it back."
“How old were the… the twins?” The question felt foreign in Fao’s mouth.
"Eighteen months. I missed so much. Bel always said I'd catch up…I never did."
“I’m sorry.”
"I missed a lot of firsts, and the ones I got," he shook his head. "The ones I got…I wouldn't wish on anyone."
Fao cleared his throat. “It must have taken you a while to get back into everything, especially surgically.”
"Another eighteen months, just to get back to where I was. I was lucky, really, my deficits ended up being physical, like my speech and swallowing."
“Is that the only thing you still struggle with?” Fao asked, mostly curious. “The back or anything?”
"Reduced sensations at times, various other problems, the burn scars kill me at times too. It feels like they're burnt all over again, when they debride it, god. Never again."
“Yeah, that’s brutal. Really, really tough.”
"The PTSD is a bit shit too."
“Now that’s something I can understand.”
"Yeah."
“I honestly just want to help.” Fao said softly, trying to find the words. “I know it’s easy to hide things and not want to get other people involved, but I could’ve helped you out ages before if you’d just asked. I wouldn’t have asked anything, either. So if there’s anything you need, no judgement or questions other than what I need to know to be safe… I’m here.”
Steve found himself choked up, and he shook his head, taking a moment. "Thank you."
“Let’s just try not to be so damn stubborn and accept help from now on.”
"Easier said than done."
“I know.”
"The pain never really goes away, but you deal with it until you can’t. I don't usually have problems breathing and eating and all that, but when it flares, it flares.
"Work aren't ever happy about it, why would they be? A fucking neurosurgeon that can't feel his hands because the whole arm feels like it's on fire. The tremors I get when I get so low, I just…I don't know. I'd never do anything to put
the patient at risk, but they just care about the image."
Fao nodded, taking it all in. “It must be really hard, but you’re an amazing doctor. I can tell you care so much about your patients, you’ve taught me so much.” He said softly. “We’re lucky to have you, and if work can’t see it too then they’re idiots.”
"Thank you, Fao. It means a lot"
Fao moved to hug him. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”
Steve hadn't expected that, but sighed and held him close. "Thank you, Fao."
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Feb 15 2024, 8.25pm
Turned in the keys at the studio today. Made a little wave to the manager and some of the staff, and then I’m gone. Saying goodbye is like eating rice for me now. Well…more like eating rice with tiny fish bones embedded among the soft fluffy grains - they don’t choke you but they still prickle when you swallow.
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Working with but not being a soeech pathologist is fun. Today I forgot the word 'commercial', as in commercial kitchen. I could depend on them to get it with the clues I gave them....I just wish it didn't involve feeling like I have aphasia. I also really like soft, saucy food because I have a crooked jaw (I think). So yay dysphagic too.
