ImmobileTwo: What's the Point?

General disclaimer: Max Steel belongs to many companies, Kids’ WB!, two different computer animation companies, and a whole mess-o corporate executives. This story is my personal work derived from my inner child getting hold of an uzi and obliterating my good side.

Max stared at the monitor directly in front of him. It tracked his heart beat, and the steady, incessant beeping was driving him insane. It had been a week since he’d landed here, and so far, the most he knew was that he was tired most of the day, and that he couldn’t move his lower body what so ever. The most that ever happened was the occasional drawing of blood or an x-ray. No explanations, no hope. Kat, Rachel, and his father were frequent visitors, and Berto seemed to be there all the time. But none of them told him why. Why he couldn’t move. Why he was stuck here. Sure, he knew it had to do with the mission, but that didn’t answer his biggest question: Was he going to be able to walk again?

“Yeah, sure,” the young man replied, a little forlornly. The black clad female agent entered the room, and came over to stand by her injured partner. Max turned his head slightly, and sighed.

“How am I supposed to feel? I have no idea what’s going on. Is there some big secret that absolutely has to be kept hidden from me?” Max replied quietly. Kat shook her head slightly.

“We really don’t know right now, Max. Nothing’s definite until these heal,” she told him, tapping one of the bandages on the young man’s back. Reflexively, he cringed. She apologized quickly in an embarrassed tone. He smiled slightly in forgiveness, then turned his head to look her straight on, his blue eyes dead serious.

“Kat, just tell me straight: I am I going to be able to walk again? Ever?” he voiced, in a hopeful tone. With a sigh, the female agent knelt down beside the bed, folding her arms and resting them on the edge of the bed, and her head on them, giving her the closest to eye contact with the younger agent.

“I can’t say either way. Because I don’t know,” she said evenly, then looked away. The sudden downcast look in his eyes was too painful.

“I never really thought that I’d ever end up like this. It just seems kinda ironic. I’d think that the Max-probes would heal the damage, but that doesn’t make sense. If that was true, then shouldn’t I be up by now?” he replied, almost reflectively. Kat shrugged her shoulders.

“I’ve been at N-tek for five years. I had a partner back during my first year. Kennith Pasez. Really nice guy. You’d like him,” she said thoughtfully, even a little wistfully.

“Huh. Haven’t heard of him. Where’s he now?” Max questioned, interested. He’d always viewed Kat as an annoying older sister, of sorts, but, though it was partially because of that view, he and her had never really been that conversational.

“Not around here, not anymore. It took a while, but eventually, he and I were pretty close, in a partnership-friendship way. Then, towards the end of my second year here, he had a mission accident. The commercial liner he was on crashed. Terrorist bomb, if you couldn’t guess. It was hard for me. Ken was the only one at N-tek who I could talk to. Until last year, when Smith put me on Team Steel, I was never permanently assigned to work with another agent. I couldn’t,” she said in a forced calm tone. Max looked sympathetic.

“I can imagine. The closest I could come to that was Mairot’s betrayal. It was a slap in the face, so to speak. For a few weeks, I didn’t feel as if I could trust anyone,” he said, turning his head back to look at the monitor. Kat nodded her understanding. There was a soft bleep from Kat’s belt elicited an annoyed sigh from the wearer as she pulled it off her waist.

“Kat here,” she said in her “official” tone. She listened for a moment, then replied, “I’ll meet you in a couple minutes,” and replaced the device on her hip.

“See you later,” she said with a grin, messing up his hair and rushing out the door. Almost immediately, the door opened again, and Berto entered the room.

“Hey, bro. What’s up? Can I get out of here yet?” Max replied, a touch hopefully. His younger friend shook his head slightly, grabbing a chair from the corner of the room and taking a seat beside the bed. Even if he had been in the room frequently over the last week, the disturbing feeling still clenched at his stomach every time. Seeing someone so intent of draining every possible drop out of life immobile like this was scary.

“I noticed. My arm’s turning purple and I glow in the dark,” Max chuckled. Berto rolled his eyes. Only Max could make quips at a time like this.

“I’m not sure. Your spine was pretty badly hurt by that bomb, hermano. But, with therapy and a little luck, you could be on your feet again within a few months,” the scientist replied. The cheer that followed the statement could have been heard out by Josh’s college.

“Give yourself another week to heal. Right now, you wouldn’t be able to get up, even if your legs were still working,” the other boy scolded. The bed-ridden agent sighed loudly.

“Sure you would, hermano. I’ll go and schedule a session for you in rehab for next week,” the teenager retorted, smirking. Max stuck out his tongue.

Several hours later, Max looked up, hearing the door open. Rachel stepped into the room, and offered a smile in greeting. The brunette agent grinned as she sat down. He was momentarily surprised. It had been a while since he’d seen her in field garb. Usually it was that black long-sleeve blouse and skirt, complete with professional-looking high heels.

“Hey, Rach,” he greeted, then frowned, seeing the bulge of a bandage covering her right bicep under her uniform sleeve. She noticed him looking, and placed one hand over the injury.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about me, Max. Focus on healing yourself. We need our super agent back. N-tek is far too quiet without you around,” she told him firmly, getting up.

“I’ll bet it is,” Max replied dryly. On a whim, Rachel crouched, planted a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth, and smiled at his expression.

“I’ll be back later,” she promised the surprised agent, patting his hand. She was out the door before Max had finished registering what had just happened. Wow. Maybe she does love me.

It had been two weeks, and his back had finally healed enough for him to try starting in on the therapy sessions. He’d spent most of the time doing lower body excercsises designed to help him strengthen his legs in preparation for his attempt at walking. Max, garbed in a tank top and shorts, was being taken down to the rehabilitation area in a wheelchair, pushed by Rachel. The boy didn’t seem nearly as enthusiastic as everyone else.

“It’s nothing. It’s just kind of embarrassing to be stuck like this. I’m too used to being independent, I guess,” he assured coolly. The remark elicited a snort from Kat.

“Put your pride on the shelf until later, Steel,” she scolded firmly. Immediately, Rachel turned a glare on the younger woman. Kat actually took a step to the side.

“If the places were switched, Kat, you’d probably be worse,” the blonde agent declared. Kat folded her arms across her chest and squared her shoulders a little. Berto recognized the female agent’s “verbal fight stance,” and moved to intervene.

“How about we drop this discussion? We’re all tense, no need to add fuel to the fire,” he said reasonably, adding a slight pleading note to his voice.

“I didn’t start anything. But, I won’t pursue the argument further,” she said calmly. Both Max and Berto sighed in relief. The former clapped a hand to the injured agent’s shoulder.

“Thanks bro, everyone. For putting up with me,” he said sincerely. Kat opened her mouth to say something, but closed it, and they had reached the rehabilitation room. Rachel wheeled the chair over to the railed walkway, maneuvered it into place before the short path, and stepped back.

“Remember, hermano. This is the first time. You might not even be able to stand for long,” Berto reminded Max as the older agent gripped the bars. He strained slightly, grunted, and was suddenly on his feet. He was shaky, that much was obvious. The metal bars had slight dents in them under his grip. He needs to relax, Rachel thought, watching him.

“Steady, hermano. Take a step,” he said evenly. Max struggled to move his left leg, then, with a surprised yelp, landed face down on the mat. He pounded on the mat with his left fist.

“Walking’s a miracle?” he asked dryly. Rachel took a small step forward, wanting to reach out and comfort him. Kat saw the gesture, and rolled her eyes.

“For the moment, it is for you, hermano. Now, do you want to get up and try this again, or go back to your room?” Berto replied coolly. Max looked thoughtfully at his left hand, clenched into a tight fist. Come on, Max. This is your greatest challenge. Rise to meet it, Rachel encouraged him in her mind. As if he’d heard her, the boy nodded.

“Anything to get away from the room,” he said at last, and Berto moved to help him up again. Rachel stepped over to them, and grabbed Max’s left arm, pulling him as well. Once he was back on his feet, and had the bars in a deathgrip, he flashed both of them grateful smiles.

“Just take it slow, hermano,” Berto suggested, his hand still on Max’s right arm, offering what reassurance he could. Rachel still had both her hands wrapped around his left wrist. She let him go, but kept her right hand on his. Max’s jaw set itself to his most determined look, and he struggled to make his left leg move. The limb twitched a little. Max stopped, looking surprised.

“I felt it move,” he said in a shocked voice. Berto nodded encouragingly. The injured agent gritted his teeth, and tried to will movement. The miniscule twitch, nothing more. He fell suddenly, his body deciding that enough was enough.

“It was a good try, hermano. Come on, this stuff wears you out more than you’d think,” Berto offered comfortingly, as he and Rachel almost literally lifted and set their partner into the chair. Max shot both of them betrayed looks, but kept silent. Truth be told, he was exhausted. Two weeks of doing almost nothing, and then five minutes of trying to walk had worn him out more than just about any mission he’d ever gone on, leaving out the ones which had ended with him being rushed into the transphasic chamber on a stretcher.

“Hey, Steel. You’re doing better than you think,” Kat offered suddenly while they were taking him back. Everyone turned to look at her, surprised. This wasn’t like her. She wasn’t self-centered, but she was independent, and that often kept her from expressing anything besides the “I can do it myself” attitude. Berto often joked that she and Max must be related. They were both so self-sufficient, it was a little disturbing.

“Thanks, Kat,” the injured agent replied, smiling. Rachel and Berto exchanged slight smiles. If anything, there was a chance the team would go closer from the accident. Even if that was the only result. The left corner of Kat’s mouth quirked in response.

A week of physical therapy had so far produced next to nothing, in Max’s mind at any rate. Not that any uninjured member of Team Steel was willing to give up, and they wouldn’t let their team’s namesake give up, either. Max, however, wasn’t encouraged by the results. More specifically, they weren’t happening fast enough for his tastes. The best they’d gotten was some almost spastic twitching from the left leg, which had scared both Max and Rachel the first time.

“It’s okay, hermano. Let’s try this again,” Berto encouraged, trying to pull Max back onto his feet. The older agent sighed resignedly. This was the fourth fall today.

“It’s just not working,” he muttered irritably. Rachel’s hand went from his arm to his shoulder. She squeezed gently, and smiled at him.

“You’re setting your standards too high,” she told him. It’s going to take time, but you can do it, she thought. But she was still too shy to put a voice to the silent words.

“Since you put it that way...” he chuckled, and with a little help, was back on his feet. He frowned in concentration, and placed all his energy into forcing his leg to move. Nothing happened, not even the twitch. His muscles were starting to cramp. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, and into his right eye. The sting surprised him, and the cloud of concentration broke. He fell and hit with a thump. Instantly, his hand was at his eye, rubbing at the irritation. Berto sighed, and knelt down beside the teenager.

“Steel, try focusing the melancholy energy into getting yourself walking again,” Kat piped before they left his room after resituating him in the bed. A thumbs up answered her.

A few hours later, Max was looking up at his ceiling. The gray painted plaster board fit his mood perfectly. He felt like a failure. Three full weeks since the mission accident. That was twenty-one days, 204 hours, 30,240 minutes, and 1,814,400 seconds. The most he could accomplish in the walking department was a twitch in his left leg.

“Let’s just face it. I’m doomed to be stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of my life,” he groaned, pounding a fist on the bed. It was a depressing thought. No more roller-blading, biking, hiking, everything he was used to doing was out. The door opening startled him out of his thought train.

“Max? Are you awake?” Rachel’s voice drifted across the room. He held up a thumbs up, and heard the door close, and footsteps of someone in N-tek issue boots. Rachel, in field uniform, was suddenly next to him.

“Hey, Green-eyes. Seems like your promotion left little time for the field,” he said in greeting, a smile crossing his face. She returned the gesture.

“But, Rach. You worked hard for that promotion. You deserve it. Why’d you go back down? If Kat put you up to this...” he started. She cut him off with a hand to his lips.

“I didn’t completely leave my promotion. I’m still a ‘desk jockey,’ but now it’s the lesser part. Max, I chose to do this. So that when you’re ready to go back out into the field, I’ll be there right beside you, to make sure you don’t get yourself into this kind of trouble again,” the blonde agent told him firmly. Add the rest, Leeds. Tell him how you feel. Say those three words, her courage yelled at her. She balked, and couldn’t speak.

Max grunted as he hit the floor. His fifth attempt for the day, ending as usual on the mat. Rachel and Berto shot one another downcast looks before crouching to either lift Max’s spirits, or lift him back into the chair. As usual as well, Kat stood a little behind the wheelchair, silently watching. She never tried to participate, just watched, and offered a comment of encouragement on the way back.

“Steel, are you even trying?” she asked primly. Everyone turned to look at her. Max’s eyes narrowed. Kat, what are you doing? Rachel thought worriedly. The brunette female agent had been keeping most of her smart remarks to herself for the sake of Max’s recovery. It now looked as if she’d had enough.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he replied in a defensive tone. Kat put her hands on her hips. She’d started it, no backing down now. Especially since his current condition made him much more defensive and easily insulted, Max would definitely not back down until she did, and the day Kat backed off first would be the day after Psycho started promoting world peace. Come on, girl. This is for the best. He’ll scream at you now, thank you later, Kat told herself. She took a deep breath.

“What that’s supposed to mean is that I think you’re just playing the ‘poor injured guy’ so that Leeds over here will keep fawning over you,” the female agent said snippily. Max’s eyes flashed.

“Why would I do something like that? I hate being stuck getting wheeled around like a little kid, trust me,” he snapped icily. He’d been containing most of his fury as well. The pent up anger was starting to show. Kat’s folded her arms across her chest.

“Max, Kat. Both of you stop. This isn’t helping anyone,” Rachel said sternly. Max hesitated for a brief second. Kat took the jumped on the opportunity to make a comment that could be perceived as encouraging or insulting.

“I’ll just bet you could out run me right now, Steel. You’re just biding your time, aren’t you?” she questioned, adding a few rapid blinks. A shadow fell over Max’s eyes.

“Come on, hermano. I think you’ve had enough for today,” the Spanish teenager said quietly. Max muttered something under his breath, but didn’t resist being placed back into the chair.

They had the agent back in his room, and Kat and Berto had left the room, when the Spanish teenager confronted the over-confident agent. When the brown eyes focused on her with a hard glare, the female agent quickly tried to remember when she’d ever seen the younger agent this angry. Except for that fight between him and Max over those stupid Tek-bots, nothing came to mind.

“Kat, today was unnecessary. He’s going through enough. He doesn’t need you badgering him like that,” the teenager scolded. Kat crossed her arms.

“I’m doing him a favor. You and Rachel treat him like he’s breakable. Keep this up, and when he gets back out on the field, he won’t last three days. You two are letting him go soft. That’s destroying the whole point of him recovering,” the brunette argued confidently. Berto sighed, and clapped a hand to his head.

“Pushing him like that will do the same thing. If Rachel and I are pampering him too much, okay. We’ll lay off. But think about who this is. Max’s ego is even more inflated than yours. This last month hasn’t been easy on him physically, or psychologically,” the boy snapped.

“I think you’re the one who needs to look at who this is. If Max’s ego is bigger than mine, then he’s tougher too. Furthermore, you are being way too protective. I’ve started one argument since that mission. But, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll lay off the provoking, if you lay off the protectiveness,” Kat retorted, holding out her hand. Berto adjusted his glasses, then sighed and shook her hand.

“Deal. Now, I’ve got to go work on a few things,” he said calmly, then turned and left. Kat went to go give the punching bag a taste of her anger. They’ll probably have to replace the stupid thing once I’m through with it, she thought to herself, smiling inwardly. The poor bag had already been getting beaten into the ground over the last three weeks.

Rachel sighed, looking at the immobile agent on the bed across the small, gray-painted room. From her place of leaning against the door, she’d heard Berto and Kat’s entire conversation. Both were right. However, as far as she could tell, Max hadn’t heard any of it. A small favor, she supposed. He looked as if he was asleep.

“Right here. Are you okay?” she said in reply. Max wasn’t looking at her, but up at the ceiling. He was silent for an uncomfortable moment.

“I’m quitting N-tek,” he announced suddenly. Rachel’s eyes went wide in shock. I didn’t hear that. Max wouldn’t say such a stupid thing.

“Don’t scare me like that, Max. Why would you do something like that?” she voiced, a little sharper than she meant. He turned his head to look at her.

“It makes sense. I mean, what would be the point? I’m only here because of the Max-probe incident. I’m useless to the team like this. I should just resign and start school again. Then at least I’ll have a chance to do something with my life,” he said evenly. Rachel put her hand on his shoulder, and shook her head.

“You’re either crazy or delirious, Max. You’re still valuable to the team. There’s no point in quitting. There are plenty of crippled agents around N-tek. Some of them are even still out on the field,” she said sternly.

“Yeah, and they’ve all been here for years. I know most of them, Rach. Yen Yatts, Mike Kuiez, Greg Feld, I know those guys. I’ve been here just barely two years. It would be better if I at least went back to college, and finished,” he replied emotionlessly. Rachel sank down to the floor, balancing on her knees, allowing herself to be at eye-level with him.

“Max, I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. You’re staying on at N-tek. You’re going to complete your rehabilitation, even if it takes months. I will be there the whole way, and so will Berto and Kat. We are not giving up on you. Do not give up on us,” she snapped angrily. Max matched her glare through half-closed eye-lids.

“For what reason? So that I can go run out and get myself back in here? Rachel, what’s the point?” he demanded, his voice breaking at the end. The blonde agent took in a deep breath to calm herself, and let it out.

“What’s the point? Why do we do this for people who we don’t know, who don’t know us? I do it because I was raised to help people. My father was here before me. I know your biological father was as well. Both of us have a legacy to continue here. Why do you do this? You say it’s because of the Max-probes, but is that the real reason? I think it’s that you feel the same as I do. You want to help people. You want to continue in your father’s footsteps. Am I right?” she said in a soft tone, but allowing her emotions to surface.

“Then how about you stop thinking about quitting?” Rachel asked gently. The young man before her nodded. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, sealing the promise.