Title: Yesterday to Tomorrow: Chapter Nineteen, Nervous Twitch
Rating: R [violence, swearing]

Summary: Alyssa overturns breakfast.

Previous Chapter Not a Girl's Best Friend

Current Chapter Nervous Twitch

Next Chapter More Every Breath

The swelling was gone. With the removal of the diamond, her spine had returned to normal size and showed no other damage at all. Neither did any other internal organ. By all standards, Alyssa would be making a full recovery.

Only she still could not feel anything below her navel.

With no medical reason why, the doctors decided to release her from the hospital. She would begin physical theraphy the following week, all hopeful that resting at home would do what the hospital had not.

Alyssa was not as hopeful. She was very much certain that she would be confined to a wheelchair all of her life. Not dance at her wedding, not even have kids with Chris. Her future happy life ended by a stupid little diamond.

"Ready, sweetie?" Chris's voice broke her dismal thoughts, making Alyssa look away from the window.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she replied, not even bothering to hide her frown.

Moving over to her, he kissed the top of her head, "I'm sure everything will end up all right, love. I know it. This is just a minor obstacle to overcome."

"Sure it is," she looked down at her hands folded in her lap.

Chris frowned. It pained him to see her in such a state. Not necessarily being wheelchair-bound. That didn't bother him at all. It was her depression from such. He hadn't seen her smile in more than a week, not even when he told her he was taking her home. A pall of depression held onto Alyssa tightly.

Convincing himself that she merely needed a change of scenery, he eagerly readied the house for her arrival. A lot of things had been... modified for her special needs. All of their things moved to the one bedroom on the main level. He had been tempted to re-model bathrooms, the kitchen, and other places before bringing her home. But didn't want that to send the signal that she wasn't going to get better. She needed to believe it for it to happen.

Rolling her out of the room, Chris pushed the wheelchair silently from the hospital room. Saying goodbye to the nurses and doctors he had gotten to know so well in the past three weeks, Chris couldn't help but smile. Things may seem bleak, but at least she would be home where she belonged, home with him.

His car had been discretely parked behind the building. The media was out front and he knew that Alyssa did not need that stress. Not right then. So he arranged to have her snuck out the back. Tom had even agreed to be the distraction, speaking about something or other to the gathered press, while Chris and Alyssa drove away.

With a nurse's help, he lifted her from the chair and gently set her in the car. His lips touched her forehead before closing the door. The wheelchair was folded and placed in the trunk before Chris climbed behind the steering wheel after receiving a few more instructions from the nurse.

The trip home was uncomfortably silent, very silent. Chris attempted to get Alyssa to say anything, but other than a few 'yeah's and 'no's, her lips didn't move. Her eyes remained steadfastly focused out the window, not glancing at him either. For whatever reason, Chris got the feeling he was to blame for it, he was the reason she couldn't feel anything. And despite her early objections, which had since fallen silent, she blamed him too. He knew it.

Oh how his heart ached.

Pulling as silently into the driveway as they had been the entire trip, Chris said as cheerfully as possible, "Home sweet home, right, love?"

"Yeah," was the only response he received from her lips.

Wheeling Alyssa into the house, Chris kept his perma-smile on his lips, "Would you like—"

"Just take me to bed, Chris," she instructed.

He opened his mouth to object, but thought second of it and turned the wheelchair towards their new bedroom. He could feel her reaction to such and he nearly scooped her up and carried her up the steps to the master suite on the second floor, even if it was devoid of most everything. But thinking that wasn't entirely a good idea, Chris continued as he was, scooping her from the wheelchair and situating her on the new bed.

No longer with doctor's orders to remain as still as possible, Alyssa turned over onto her side, her back to Chris, with some struggle. Half her body didn't want to turn, didn't listen to her brain. So she remained half-turned, not wanting to reach and turn the rest of herself with hands.

"Lyssa," Chris muttered, concern filling his eyes.

She said nothing, not even looking at him.

"Baby?"

Silent she remained, until he left the room, leaving her alone with her tears.


Balancing a tray with waffles, strawberries, and juice, Chris made his way down to the bedroom. The first night home hadn't been easy, though he had slept so much better with her next to him. Alyssa however had woken many times in the night, sometimes screaming. She could never remember what scared her so much in her dreams. That didn't surprise Chris too much, as she still couldn't remember anything about what happened in the bank, but it still concerned him. Especially as there apparently wasn't anything he could do for her. She didn't even want him to hold her when she woke in the night.

"Good morning, sunshine," he greeted her with a warm smile.

"Hi," Alyssa replied drolly.

"I made your favourite," he declared, waiting for her to sit up so he could set the tray in place. "Waffles and strawberries."

She did sit up, but frowned, "I'm not hungry."

Chris set the tray in her lap, "Baby, you need to eat. Not only to keep your strength up, but because you need something solid in your stomach for your medicine."

"I don't want it, Chris."

"The waffles? But I—"

"The medicine."

"Alyssa, you need to take it so that—"

"Fuck that, Chris. It's not going to magically heal me. I'm always going to be this way. Stuck in a bed, stuck in a chair. The pills aren't going to change that," she spouted angrily.

"Alyssa—"

"No, Chris," she muttered through clenched teeth. "I don't want the food. I don't want the fucking pills."

In her anger, the tray overturned, spilling juice, syrup, and food all over the bed. Only she hadn't hit it with her hand.

Her right leg had twitched.

Alyssa's eyes went wide, not because of the mess either.

Chris wasn't sure what to do, other than clean up the mess. But the look on her face kept him from moving from where he stood, waiting an explanation.

"Did you see that?" she asked softly.

"See what, baby?" he asked cautiously.

"My leg moved," Alyssa claimed.

His green eyes immediately went to her lap. The tray was in fact eschew, in a way that would only indicate her leg had in fact moved. He smiled warily.

"Can you do that again?" he questioned.

She shook her head, "I don't think so."

"Try," Chris encouragedm removing the tray and dishes from the blanket.

Alyssa's eyes focused on the outline of her legs. For a few moments she just stared at them, willing them to do something, anything. Nothing happened. Chris gently removed the wet blanket as well, exposing her PJ-covered legs.

"Maybe it was just a nervous twitch," Alyssa frowned.

His hands went to her feet, fingers slipping into her socks, "Baby, your feet aren't as cold as they were last night. Can you feel my fingers?"

Closing her eyes to focus on the presence of any amount of sensation, Alyssa inhaled deeply. She shook her head. Nothing. She felt nothing.

Then suddenly something. Maybe it was a ghost feeling. The doctor had talked of things like that. Besides Chris's hand wasn't on her hip, it was on her foot.

Her eyes fluttered open. And widened. His hand was on her hip.

"Chris?" she muttered. "There. I can feel something there."

Without a word, he moved to remove her PJ pants. Opening the drawer in the bedside stand, he pulled out a bookmark. Sticking it in his mouth, he helped her lay flat again. Like the doctors had done many times in the hospital, Chris dragged the bookmark's corner up her right leg. Her eyes closing the moment he started his ascent, Alyssa prayed to feel something, anything.

And there it was. Mid-thigh. A faint tickling.

"There. Right there," she declared.

Chris stopped with the bookmark and put his entire palm on her leg. A smile twitched at her lips. She could feel his fingers.

"Baby?"

"Try the other leg," she instructed, not opening her eyes.

Doing the same to the left leg as he had the right, Chris waited for her to say something. Alyssa remained silent, her smile disappearing.

"I don't feel anything, Chris," she stated, opening her eyes when his hand reached her left hip. "Why can I feel it on the right side but not the left?"

"The diamond was in the left," he answered.

"Oh."

Chris moved and kissed her briefly, "But you feel something, love. And that's a very good thing. An improvement over yesterday already. By next week, I'm betting you're feeling everything."

She nodded, not fully believing him, but at least feeling some hope now.

"How about a bath?" he offered. "Then try for breakfast again?"

"Only if you take one with me," Alyssa declared.