Welcome to the Misfits

Bipolar Disorder

Chapter 20: Bipolar Disorder

Owen felt his legs buckle from exhaustion, and he strained to keep on his feet. Every fiber in his body screamed in agony as he struggled to stand. Slowly, he straightened his legs and back, and took a step forward.

Pain shot up and down his leg, but Owen grit his teeth and took another step forward. Sweat was rolling down his face, and his vision blurred. His head started to swim and the floor started to rock.

He took another step.

He had been through worse, he just needed to keep picking his feet up and putting them back down.

Owen's leg buckled again, and he watched the ground rush up to meet him.

- Physical Therapy -

- Three weeks after injury -

Thirty minutes later Owen was sitting in a plastic chair, guzzling down a sports drink while a too cheerful physical therapist told him what a great job he did that day.

He rolled his eyes, "All I did today was fall, a lot."

The physical therapist scoffed at him, "From what I've been told, you shouldn't even be out of bed yet so I would say you've made good progress."

Owen grunted, but said nothing and the two sat in silence until Colette walked into the therapy office with the one thing Owem hated more than anything.

He glowered at the wheel chair until he sighed in defeat, stood, hobbled to the chair and dropped himself down.

The therapist ignored his bad attitude and looked to Colette, "Same time day after tomorrow?"

"Sounds good, thanks Malina." Colette replied before she turned and wheeled him outside.

The base at S09 was busier than ever since Sangvis had stepped up attacks in the area. Combat echelons were constantly flying off and abandoned dolls from overrun G&K positions throughout the area were constantly coming in.

Outpost 17 was no exception either. The Misfits were always either on a combat patrol, part of a QRF, or helping out with logistics.

"And here I am stuck in a fucking wheelchair." Owen grumbled to himself.

"It could be worse, you could be dead." Colette teased.

Owen tuned her out as she kept talking.

"Hey, Sir grumps-a-lot, are you even listening to me?" Colette asked as she thumped him on the back of the head.

"What?" Owen snapped.

"I asked if you were hungry, but it seems like you already filled up on Asshole-Os." Colette said coolly.

Owen looked at the spot where Freya was, then sighed as he watched four Blackhawks fly overhead in formation, "I'm sorry Colette, I'm not trying to be a dick, I just got a lot on my mind."

"Uh huh," Colette said, "stop feeling sorry for yourself."

Owen clenched his jaw and kept quiet. Taking his silence as victory, Colette wheeled him towards the cafe, put him at a table, and waited for Springfield to finish up with another order.

"So," Colette began as they waited, "how'd it go today?"

"Fine." Owen grunted.

"Oh good, and here I was worried about you going into too much detail." Colette said.

After a few seconds of silence, Colette sighed and stretched her arms. Once she was done, she studied Owen, who was staring blankly at a spot on the table.