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trans_92011-07-30 03:11 am
so-pregnable.livejournal.com) wrote in trans_92011-07-30 03:11 am
Adjustment Period [open]
The first thing he'd insisted on them fixing was the clone brand, but the surgery to fix his arm had come first, to allow all the tissue to heal right. His tendency towards fast healing was taking care of the rest. Then they got rid of the stupid clone brand after.
His hand was gone.
It was still a thought he had to get used to. One second it'd been there and now it was gone. It hadn't even been all the dramatic, like things like that were in the movies. It wasn't some moment over a gaping pit, with a villain chopping off his hand and revealing he was his father. He didn't have to saw it off to escape from some deadly trap, horror movie style.
There'd been a fight, he'd fallen on the teleporter pad, there'd been a bright light in front of his face and that was it. Apparently, it could happen just that easily.
Then again, it wasn't the first time he'd lost a hand--that same hand, in fact--but after healing for a thousand years under the North Pole, all the damage from the fight that had killed him had disappeared, and the thing had apparently regrown. So losing limbs wasn't exactly something he never expected would happen, when it already happened once. This time, he was fairly sure it wasn't going to grow back, though.
Ultimately, he decided that was okay. He was a little freaked out about it, but he'd cope. You rolled with the punches, right?
Sometimes you have to roll with the accidental amputations, too.
It was war. This stuff happened, it was going to keep happening, and at least it hadn't been his head.
It was war, and people got hurt in wars, just like you made decisions you weren't sure were the right ones. Just like his decision to let Moses free all the clones was one that was weighing on his mind. (He was just WAITING to hear from Leon on that one).
Superboy sat upright on his bed in Medbay, arm bandaged and in a sling, and played Tetris on his omnicom one-handed. Hopefully, they'd let him out of Medbay soon, and then...then he'd figure out the rest.
His hand was gone.
It was still a thought he had to get used to. One second it'd been there and now it was gone. It hadn't even been all the dramatic, like things like that were in the movies. It wasn't some moment over a gaping pit, with a villain chopping off his hand and revealing he was his father. He didn't have to saw it off to escape from some deadly trap, horror movie style.
There'd been a fight, he'd fallen on the teleporter pad, there'd been a bright light in front of his face and that was it. Apparently, it could happen just that easily.
Then again, it wasn't the first time he'd lost a hand--that same hand, in fact--but after healing for a thousand years under the North Pole, all the damage from the fight that had killed him had disappeared, and the thing had apparently regrown. So losing limbs wasn't exactly something he never expected would happen, when it already happened once. This time, he was fairly sure it wasn't going to grow back, though.
Ultimately, he decided that was okay. He was a little freaked out about it, but he'd cope. You rolled with the punches, right?
Sometimes you have to roll with the accidental amputations, too.
It was war. This stuff happened, it was going to keep happening, and at least it hadn't been his head.
It was war, and people got hurt in wars, just like you made decisions you weren't sure were the right ones. Just like his decision to let Moses free all the clones was one that was weighing on his mind. (He was just WAITING to hear from Leon on that one).
Superboy sat upright on his bed in Medbay, arm bandaged and in a sling, and played Tetris on his omnicom one-handed. Hopefully, they'd let him out of Medbay soon, and then...then he'd figure out the rest.
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He kept the arm around him, letting him lean as much as he wanted and stealing half the back rest. "Nobody expects you to be unruffled all the time, you know? I've seen loads of folks you thought couldn't cry do so when they were hurt bad enough. You keep it all inside and it just sorta builds after awhile, builds and builds until when it finally comes out, you can't even control it. Letting it out in little bits keeps the pressure down."
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Total lie.
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There were times to be strong, and there were times you just needed to have a blubbering fit.
On days like today, having a blubbering fit was actually immensely helpful to making everything seem a little less like it might consume the universe in one hearty gulp. "Won't even tell your mum, promise."
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He wasn't the type.
He did however, lean over and rest his head on Rory's shoulder, butting into it like he tended to do when he wanted a hug and was too embarrassed to ask for one.
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He might not even resort to violence if they proved reasonable enough to see his point and inform Conner that they had been wrong.
He turned, ignoring the protests of his ribs and wrapped his arms around his son, tucking him close and for once not voicing a complaint about his height. "You did good, Conner. Better than anyone could think to ask of you."
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It didn't feel like he did so good.
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