Robbie Dorman - Regrowth

“What kind of surgery?” asked Tommy.

“Your legs,” said Jon. “He wants me to give you your legs back, so he can know it’s safe to get his arm back.”

Tommy looked at him with fear and anger in his eyes.

“Is it safe?” asked Tommy, finally.

“I don’t know,” said Jon. “I think so, but you’ll be the first test. So I can’t guarantee anything. But if I don’t agree to help, he’ll take you, anyway. And there’s no one better than me to oversee this. So please believe me, I don’t want this to happen. I want you to be the way you want to be. Please believe me.”

“I believe you, Dad,” said Tommy. “I’m—I’m scared.”

“So am I,” said Jon. “It’s okay to be afraid.”

“I miss Mom,” said Tommy. “You think she’s safe?”

“Of course,” said Jon. “I’d be more afraid for the rest of the world. She’s tough. She’s an ass-kicker. I should have left you up there with her. You’d be better off.”

“I told her,” said Tommy.

“Hindsight is 20/20,” said Jon. Jon sighed.

“Should I get dressed?” asked Tommy.

“You can wear your pajamas,” said Jon. “You’ll have to change eventually, but I wouldn’t worry about that now. I’m so proud of you.”

“Why?” asked Tommy.

“You’re so brave,” said Jon. “Braver than me.”

“You’re doing okay, Dad,” said Tommy.

“Glowing compliments,” said Jon. “Are you ready?”

“Can I use the bathroom first?” asked Tommy.

“Sure,” said Jon.

Jon pushed Tommy out of his room a few minutes later. The four guards waited just inside the front door. They looked even larger inside, each of them a mass of black armor, with a sleek assault rifle carried in their arms. Jon had thought this scenario out a thousand times, trying to think of a way to escape with Tommy.

All of them ended in failure. No plot, no scheme would work. There were too many systems that stood between them and the free world.

Tommy didn’t cry as he pushed him, and that might have been what pushed Jon over the edge. He felt the heat rise in his chest again, a hard, burning anger, a rage, a frustration, for this terrible situation that he had to face, that Tommy faced bravely. He looked at the four armed guards.

Each of them looked bored. This was just another duty to them, to escort a child in a wheelchair to surgery. Did they question their orders, ever? Even once? Or did they go along because Shaw gave them three hots and a cot?

Jon’s anger rose, angry at these men, who did Shaw’s bidding without question, who followed orders with confidence, and Jon stopped pushing the wheelchair, staring at the four of them.

“You ready to go?” asked the leader, his rifle hanging loosely in his hands.

Jon couldn’t stop himself. He charged him, running at the leader. The look on his face told Jon that he hadn’t expected it, but the element of surprise did little to help Jon.

Jon was a scientist. A researcher. He was lucky to finish a mile in under twenty minutes. He rushed the guard, and his movement surprised him, but the guard was young, and fit, and trained. The guard stepped back, grabbed his rifle in two hands, and swung the butt out at Jon as he advanced. It caught him in the temple, and the world turned to black.

“Dad, do you have to go back to work tonight?”

Jon looked into the rear-view mirror, seeing Tommy in the back seat. His legs swung freely.

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” said Jon. “But I do. I have some work I have to get done.”

“You say that every night,” said Tommy.

“It’s true every night,” said Jon. “At least we got to see a movie, just you and me. Did you like it?”

“Yeah, it was great,” said Tommy.

“Who was your favorite?” asked Jon.

“Iron Man,” said Tommy. “He’s funny. It’s sad, though.”

“It is,” said Jon. “But it was for the greater good, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” said Tommy. “He saved the world.”

“Right,” said Jon. “He saved the world. But in the end, he saved his daughter.”

“Would you save the world for me?” asked Tommy.

“Of course,” said Jon. “In a heartbeat.”

Jon yawned. He had barely slept the night before, but Maya had been telling him for weeks to spend some time alone with Tommy. So they went and saw the new Avengers movie. Tommy had already seen it, but he was happy to see it again. Jon looked into the rear-view mirror. Tommy had pulled out his Switch, the light illuminating his face.

Jon yawned again. His eyelids were heavy. God, he had a long night ahead of him. The grant paperwork needed to be done tonight. He had put it off long enough. He took a swig of coffee and grimaced at the taste. It was the only thing keeping him going.

He’d had a good time tonight. He missed spending time with the kiddo, but he wouldn’t let Maya take all the burden of paying the bills on her shoulders, even if she could handle it. He would do his part, and if that meant some time away from Tommy and her, well, it’s a price he would pay. He’d see them this weekend. The grant paperwork would be done by then, and he’d have a little time to relax—

Heavy impact and glass shattering woke him and he was spinning in the air, and then his head hit the airbag, oh god, where’s Tommy? Jon’s mind tried to make sense of what had happened, but the vehicle was turning in the air, and then he hit the ground with a thud. His knee screamed in pain, wedged between the seat and the dashboard. His head was jammed between airbags, and he couldn’t move. The car spun slowly on the ground, and then came to a stop, after what seemed like an eternity.

He was upside down. He hung, his seatbelt holding him in. The airbag blocked his vision, and he reached for the key, pulled it out of the ignition, and jammed it hard into the bag, popping a hole in it. He could see now, the windshield broken. Everything was upside down, and there was glass everywhere, headlights illuminating.

“He ran the light, I couldn’t stop!” yelled a voice, gruff, and deep. Jon blinked, trying to make sense of the world. He saw a shoe. Tommy’s shoe, a red Nike, he had wanted the red Nikes for a year, but it didn’t make sense. The shoe sat on the ground, and a leg stuck up out of it, but Tommy wasn’t—

Oh god, oh god, Tommy

Jon’s eyes opened to the sound of Shaw’s voice. His head ached with a dull thudding pain.

“Look at the man,” said Shaw. “Does he look like a threat to you? He’s about to oversee a major operation, and you thought it best to club him in the head. You better hope he wakes up, or your ass—”

Jon sat up, his hand going to the side of his head, feeling the goose egg that had raised on his temple.

“Oh, thank Christ,” said Shaw. Shaw looked Jon in the eyes. “You there, Jon?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” said Jon. “I need an aspirin.”

“You’ll get them,” said Shaw. “I wouldn’t call it smart to charge at the armed guards.”

“Sometimes I don’t do smart things,” said Jon.

“Touche,” said Shaw. “Your boy is worried about you.”

“He’s a good kid,” said Jon. “You should let us go.”

Shaw smiled. “Are you still capable of overseeing the operation? If not, I’ll enlist Dr. Stone to step in—”

“No,” said Jon. “I can do it.” Jon blinked, trying to clear his head, of both the pain and the memories that had flooded in.

Goddamnit, brain. Not the best time for this shit.

The broken glass, the torn metal. The memory lingered. Jon shoved it away.

“Where’s Tommy?” asked Jon.

“He’s with the medical team,” said Shaw. “They’re preparing him. Are you ready?”