#Technically ambulatory but not very far and it hurts a lot

[almostfini]

One of the best things about my new powerchair is that I can wander aimlessly around the house again! I don't have to plan out if I have the stamina to hobble over with my cane and grab something on my way back from the bathroom. I can just *zip* over there and back!

[donaldresslerfanfic]

Samar Navabi.

Rating: M

Warnings: Strong Language (little bit)

Word Count: 2096

Donald Ressler X OC Maggie Waters.

Chapter: Nineteen

Chapter Index

Story on Wattpad

Maggie.

Raymond had suddenly showed up at my workplace, accompanied with Dembe and a tall woman, curly black hair.

“So glad to see you’re still here Maggie. Paul said he might have to let you go but I’ve assured your stay here, we’re still not done”

He sat at the chair I had for clients, I frowned a little at all this information. My boss wanted to fire me? And who was she?

“I’m lost here can I have a briefing?” I said looking at Raymond, waiting for him to explain.

“This is Agent Navabi, she’s joined the task force and-”

“Ah, it’s you” I said looking at her with a little smile “the one that has Ressler all annoyed”

“Because of the whole ‘Capturing Reddington’ thing?” she said, also smiling.

“Yeah, he was quite pissed you beat him by 1750 exact days”

Samar gave me another proud smile, I looked at Raymond again to make him continue.

“Samar will lend her expertise to you. I can’t afford you being a victim again.”

“In that we agree” I said serious.

Even though I had spent two days at Donald’s place after the whole attack I was still outgunned and very much vulnerable, I didn’t wanted to be like this, the damsel in distress.

“Perfect, Samar will contact you regularly so be sure to have spare time”

I nodded and gave Samar a thankful look.

It was fun training and learning stuff with Samar, we spent time at the gym where I learned some basic combat technics, I had been doing personal defense and I wasn’t completely helpless, I managed to knock her out of balance a few times.

A week after that we moved to gun training where she taught me the basics, arming and disarming the gun, general maintenance and practice in a shooting range. With the stuff I learned from Dembe plus this, by the time we finished that week I maintained the shots in the second inner circle, to which Samar assured me it was great.

First thing in the morning she had showed up and she handcuffed me and handed me a paper clip, told me to lockpick my way out. My phone rung in my coffee table and it was then that she learned about Donald.

“I didn’t know that you were close friends with Ressler. Are you two dating?”

“No, I wish” I complained and tried to hit the spot with the little metal in my hand.

“He’s different from everyone I’ve worked for. He’s…. Stiff”

“Well, if you’ve had a leg almost blown off my a shotgun blast, a fiancé killed right in front of you and your team be cut down by half by a psychopath then I’ll be a bit bitter too” I defended.

“He hasn’t made any moves on you?”

“No, he’s been acting weird lately though” I concentrated because I thought I had it, but then it slipped.

I sighed in frustration and gave the cuffs a tug.

“My hands are cramming” I complained. Still, I went at it again.

“He had a leg almost broken… Right?”

“Yeah, by a shotgun blast” I replied, focused. I almost had it.

“And you’ve noticed this mood changes recently? What about peripheral vision? Reflexes?”

It came to mind when I said 'think fast’ to Don while I threw him a can of soda. A can he didn’t catch and ended up exploding in my floor because of the pressure. We laughed, I shrugged it off and that was it. But I knew what Samar was implying.

“You’ve met Donald for two weeks, I’ve known him for almost two years. Does he drink to much sometimes? Yes, but one when he knows he doesn’t have to work the next day. He’s not the kind of person that falls for something so banal as a pain killer addiction”

“He had a recent loss”

“Like 5 months ago”

“That’s not an excuse”

“Listen” I said, now more than annoyed “don’t you think if he had an addiction he would’ve told me?”

“No, I don’t think he would, it would be embarrassing for him to admit it, and it would make you disappointed in him”

“I wouldn’t be disappointed I would be sad” I concentrated in the cuffs and I got them out in a simple movement, just like Samar had when she showed me. “Here have your stupid-”

Before I could continue she cuffed me again, I looked at her dumbfounded. She showed me her phone where she had set a timer.

“You took twenty minutes, if this was a real life situation you would be dead five times over. Do it in less than two and we’ll stop”

I looked at my wrists again and siighed, they were red and I’m sure they will be purple tomorrow. Since we’re in the middle of spring I couldn’t use long sleeves.

“Tic tac” she said while I looked at the timer. I got to work quickly.

“He doesn’t have a pain killer addiction.”

“No, he has an Oxy addiction. Is an opioid and he likes the high. This is not the first time an agent would get an addiction after a major injury and it won’t be the last.”

I made it when she finished the sentence and handed the cuffs to her, I rubbed my wrists with my hands and sighed. I guess I could cover them with some bracelets.

“You can tell people you’ve got a kinky boyfriend” she said after a little wink. I shook my head and looked down at the phone.

It was way before my usual wake up call, but Don was already up and running and was now calling me. I took the phone and picked up

“Hey” I saluted.

“Texted you earlier to let you know I was bringing you coffee earlier since you don’t have to work today”

“I saw the message but I went to sleep again I’m sorry” I lied

“Well, splash some water I’m a block away”

“Got it” I hung up and looked at Samar “He’s coming, you should go” I stood up and headed to my bedroom to slip on my sneakers.

“Does he come here to have breakfast with you every morning?”

“We used to have it in a café before we went to work. Unfortunately, with this whole Raymond deal my boss put me in ambulatory work. I don’t go to the office anymore. It was getting hard for him to explain HR my absences and sudden disappearances from work. We opted this would be better and I’m handling almost all Raymond works, I’m not taking any other clients” I returned to the living room and walked to the front door, Samar following behind me.

“Test him” she said once I open the door “Ressler I mean. If you’re not convinced he has a problem, test him”

Test him how? She turned around and left my apartment, taking the stairs and getting out of sight just as the elevator doors opened and Don came out of them, cups in once hand a a bag from the other.

I smiled and saw him inside,closing the door after him.

“You don’t look just like you just woken up”

“Because I hadn’t” I took my coffee and sat down next to him in the dinning table. “You know Samar right?”

“Navabi?” He asked taking his own “yeah, I do”

“Well… So do I. Raymond as well, he’s asked her to teach me some self defense stuff, and for the last three weeks we have.” I showed him my red wrists “today she hand cuffed me and had me lockpick my way out”

He took my hands in his and turned them around, running his thumbs on my sore wrists

“How long did it took you?”

“The fastest I did it was two minutes” he gave me a surprise look.

“Impressive. She hasn’t taught you the real move has she?” He pulled out his own handcuffs from the hook of his belt.

“Of course not”

I cuffed himself, only one hand and made me look, he grabbed a paperclip I had hanging around some papers and positioned it.

“In this curve here” he inserted the clip and made a little movement “the latch is usually in the upper right curve. You have to find it, push and turn downwards”

He did just that and the cuff clicked, he took it out and it was my time to give him a surprised twist of eyebrows.

“Awesome” I commented and looked at the bag. While I rummaged through it to find the kind of muffin I liked I saw him pull out his bottle of pills.

“What’s that?” I asked, trying not to sound as alarmed as I felt. I had never seen him take the pills right in front of me.

“The pain killers I was prescribed” he excused himself, downed the pills and chugged them down with the coffee.

“You still take them? Your leg thing has been almost a year ago. If it still hurts you should go to a doctor”

He gave me a grimace and a little eye roll.

“It’s not just the leg, I’ve been getting physical at work lately.”

“Well, still, you might have pulled a muscle or tore something” he gave me a little smile and finished his coffee.

“I’m fine Mags, it’s just the perils of work”

I nodded, and let the subject go. He began talking about the case they took a week ago and expressed his concerns about Liz. As far as I’ve been told she’s not living at her place, she’s been hiding a lot, Raymond has a tail on her. He thinks she’s keeping something from him.

I told him that once you know your whole reality was a scam of course she was going to be paranoid and distrustful to people. But I agreed, she had to go back to normal.

After our breakfast Don left and I didn’t saw him for two days, he was working on a case that had something to do with a pandemic, luckily Samar had taken the case with Liz in the field and he stood behind.

He came around my house on night and I took Samar’s advice, planted a pill bottle filled with pain killer placebo and left it in the medicine cabinet of my bathroom.

We talked and laughed about whatever for the rest of the night, it was a normal night of two friends hanging out.

My heart sunk when I went to the bathroom and the pill bottle was three quarters empty.

I had to sit down at the toilet sit and take a deep breath.

I had gone through this with my dad. It was always just a little more, a little more of morphine to get him through the pain of chemo and being bedridden. With Don it was just one more pill to numb himself, he was still hurting for Audrey’s death and if it didn’t stop now he would ruin himself.

The placebo pills would get him more destabilized and he would have to seek for help, unless his addiction sinks him.

I couldn’t go back to our normal friend gathering after I left the bathroom. We were waiting for the pizza delivery and he was sitting in my couch looking for something interesting on Netflix.

I wanted to punch him, to make him tell me the truth, to be weak for once an accept his mistake. But there he was, as if nothing had happened, as if he hasn’t stole pills from me. They were fake, sure. But how many times had he done it in the past?

“We should start season 2 of Breaking Bad” he said when he found it. Of course I had seen it but he hadn’t, it was my chance to relive it again and I loved to see his face when he surprised himself with the plot twists.

I sat down next to him, looking at him worried. I was hating the fact that he acted so nonchalantly at this whole deal.

He looked at me and frowned.

“You OK?”

“Yeah” I lied and looked at the TV. “It’s just that…” I looked at my hands, being squeezed by eachother. “You know that you can talk to me about… You know, if you’re still sad fror Audrey or…”

He gave me a little twist of his eyebrows and lifted his arm up to hold me by the shoulders

“I’m fine Mags. I promise”

[disabiliboy]

Accessibility Explorations 1

this post was originally posted here on my blog

NOTE: parts of this were written quickly on my phone while exploring, others were written post-trip as a consideration of the whole thing. Different tenses are used in the piece because of that. Editing has been done for clarity but not to remove the feelings associated with being in the moment.

This post was written far before the COVID19 situation.

Today I start a series where I explore accessibility in places around my town. I went to a little shopping center called the Landings. Its very modern and there are quite a few wellness and mommy stores. I try to look for places with mommy stores, because where strollers go (sometimes) wheelchairs can too!

Joining me today is a Model H wheelchair, a hybrid manual-power chair. My experiences with this chair have been rocky to say the least, but at least it’s better than my Drive Rebel.

I started my day parking at one end of the center, on the bottom level, and entered the I Love Juice juice bar. I signed up for rewards and learned that this franchise allows you to fully customize any of their juices. Last time I was a bit disappointed that they had basil in a lot of things, turns out if I had asked they’d have remade my drink without the basil free of charge! Entering the building was a snap. The curb cut was gentle enough where I could easily navigate up. The accessibility aisle was clear. There was only one accessible spot for the store and the massage parlor beside it. Surprisingly, a woman leaving the store ASKED if I needed her to open the door, and when I said “no thank you” she politely said okay and continued upon her day. A+ civilian! Inside the building there was a room to the side with extra seating and no door leading into that space, a wide entryway, and a central room with all the seating to a side, leaving the area in front of the cashier free.

There was a “Juice Peep” free who I asked about options and offered me a paper menu. Their wall menu has good sized text but is a bit low, due to the height of the ceilings and the length of the menu. The whole bottom is cut off to people in chairs or people who are short.

End rating: 9.5/10, with only points deducted for small and handle able things, like high countertops and small staff size.

Making my way to my next destination wasn’t simple. I had to pass all the way to the closest sidewalk to the road to find a crosswalk, and I had to go into the road to get on it. No curb cuts on the sidewalk itself. I then had to navigate by applebees, where the sidewalk was very slanted and hard to go up. My motor despaired, but we made it! Upon getting where I wanted to go next, I noticed no curb cuts between the parking area and the stores, save a single crosswalk one. If I had parked here I’d have had problems getting to and from the car, having to go to the same spot over and over.

Next I traveled to the center of the bottom half of the Landings for some chicken salad! I love Chicken Salad Chick. My option of choice? The Barbie-Q. All their salads have southern women’s names, like Olivia’s Old South or Miss Tamara’s Tarragon Dijon. I ordered The Chick, which is their version of a meal. One scoop, one side, or one soup. Choose two. They also offer a version where you can choose all three! The meal comes with a pickle spear, lots of crackers (6 packages of “Wheat Twins!) and my favorite, a small buttercream frosted cookie. Yum!

CSC gets a little tougher when you look at the accessibility side of things, though. To get to the counters, there’s a high wall leading you around the side of the building. I could not see over this while seated. PTSD issue. The aisles in the seating area are technically ADA compliant…when no one is sitting in their chairs. Being a mommy-attracting store, there were two groups with small kids, and diaper bags plus people sitting in chairs made passage impossible until those nice parents showed how absolutely delightful they are and one stood, moved her diaper bag, and helped me get through. Seating is also a little tight. I found a table for four that I could sit at without blocking aisles, but this was the only place I could see where I wouldn’t be in the way, and I’m taking up a large table. I have no idea from this part how I’ll get out of the store without breaking something, since the doorways are obscured by staggered tables.

Picking back up after my lunch, I was pretty hot and extremely tired, so it was time to head back for my car. I considered a longer route back, but I wasn’t in the mood to stay out in the Georgia heat much longer. So I hooked back the way I came. Getting out of Chicken Salad Chick wasn’t easy, I had to weave between tables and over a spilled drink. The building is carpeted almost completely throughout the dining area, so this is a mildew hazard as well as making it hard to navigate. The door leading outside was heavy and there were no accessibility buttons. A nice pedestrian opened the door for me and didn’t stand directly in the way of me getting out the door.

NOTE: if you’re helping someone in a wheelchair or using a mobility device by holding the door, ask first HOW you can help. Don’t assume your help will be useful and act based on what makes sense to you. My chair is a few inches thinner than the average doorway, so if you’re standing towards the inside of the door I can’t squeeze through without stepping on your toes.

Ending the day one more thing of note happened: I made a man angry.

It wasn’t on purpose, but it was intentional in a way. I’m a staunch proponent of doing things myself when I can, of being independent as possible. I sometimes burn myself out or hurt myself trying to do things all myself, never asking for help. Part of it is I’m stubborn. Part of it, though, is the hopeless, helpless feeling of having people truly believe in their hearts that if you’re in a wheelchair you can’t do anything for yourself, that you’re not going to be able to contribute to society, that you’re going to be a burden your whole life.

So, I’m ambulatory. I can walk if I have to. Doing it, though, takes a huge toll on my body. So I usually transfer from my chair to the edge of the trunk of my car and then pull my chair in behind me. Of course this isn’t super safe as I should lift more with my back, but those rules can’t apply easily to disabled life.

Here I am, then, pulling my chair into my car, and a guy rips into the parking lot, pulls into a spot super quick, and runs over to help me. I hold up a hand and holler “I’m okay!” but he continues approaching, my PTSD rumbling a little. He asks briefly how he can help, and I say I’d prefer to do it myself. He finally agrees after some arguing, though he’s definitely not happy, and I finish up, secure my chair, hobble to the car, and drive away. Still, his face of disbelief that a disabled person, especially a small, female-bodied one, can handle a heavy chair? It haunts and invigorates me; haunting – because I am seen as so little, invigorating – because I am so very much.