Chapter Text
Shrill cries and wails of new born twins filled the room, overpowering the sounds of their flatlining mother as nurses rushed to get them to the infant icu and resuscitate their mother. The boys had been born fused together just below the shoulder. One of them had two otherwise intact arms but was sickly pale; the other was of healthy complexion but fused to his brother, left arm missing. Immediately the boys went into surgery, trying to determine if their condition was causing the lack of circulation in the one twin.
The boys made it through the night, their separation surgery sucessful. However, their mother fared worse, having passed due to complications with their birth. With their father out of the picture, the hospital immediately put them up for adoption. Quickly the paler boy, now named Nai so lovingly by his new parents, was adopted by a rich family. However, the other, called Vash by those who fostered him through the years, didn't have it so easy.
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"Vash!" his brown haired mother figure called from the kitchen, "Breakfast is ready!"
"Coming, Rem!" He shouts from the second floor, bounding down the stairs.
The kitchen smells heavenly as he reaches the first floor. Floorboards creek under him, discolored from mold, the humidity deteriorating the wood. The two didn't have much, yet, Rem was one of the kindest foster parents he had yet. She worked long hours to provide for them, leaving early and getting home late. However, today was one of her rare days off, one of the days that Vash got to wake to the smell of pancakes and handmade sausage patties.
"It smells great!" He beams, vibrating with excitement as she places a plate in front of him.
"Are you all ready for your first day of junior high tomorrow?" She asks, sitting across from him, a chipped plate of food before her.
"mhmm! I got all my stuff ready to go. The youth shelter was giving out free backpacks of supplies so you don't have to worry about getting me anything." He takes a bite of the sausage patty. It's simple, just ground meat with salt and pepper flattened into a circle, but he can taste the love and care Rem put into making it.
"Well, either way, I did get you something special to celebrate." She smiles brighter than the sun, pulling a voucher from her pocket. "I was doing some research, and this company was giving out prosthetics to children in need. I applied and you qualified, Vash! We can finally get you a high-quality arm." She kisses his forehead from across the table.
The boy is stunned to speak to say the least. No temporary parent he had would've gone this far for him. They always looked at him as a burden, the kid they had to take extra care with since he was lacking. But not Rem, never Rem. She had gone out of her way to do something no one had done for him. Tears beaded in his eyes knowing that he wouldn't have to keep using the prosthetic he had now, the prosthetic that grew tighter each day with each growth spurt. Even as he sat now, eating his breakfast he didn't wear the uncomfortable piece of plastic.
"They have a hand-me-down program too, so when you grow out of this first prosthetic, they'll let you trade in for a new one," She adds when he doesn't speak. Noticing the tears falling from his eyes she scrambles,"Oh, did I over step? sorry if I made this weird. I just wa-"
Vash cuts her off, "No. No, I'm just. just really happy." He sobs over his breakfast, tears splashing onto the cracked plate. "No one's ever cared this much before."
Getting up from the table, she pulls him in to a hug. "Oh, my boy, I'm sorry that you've gone through so much," She whispers into his hair, holding the child in her arms. No 11 year old should be crying over parents who never cared. How cruel this world was for allowing this kid she considered her son to suffer. "We can go pick it up today if you'd like?" She offers, brushing away the tears falling from his eyes.
"I'd like that," He smiles, taking a bite of semi-soggy pancakes.
After breakfast, Rem takes their plates to handwash. Her dishwasher hadn't worked in years, broken even before Vash came into her life. As she washes them, Vash runs upstairs to get dressed. Sliding the sleeve for his prosthetic over his arm, Vash pulls a shirt over his head one handed. He slides well worn jeans over his legs next, nearly ramming his foot through the large hole in the knee. The ball of his foot and heel scrape across the inside of his shoe as he slips them on, socks doing very little to serve as a barrier. Tapping them fully on, the soles make a light slapping noise as they separate from the canvas before returning to their original position. He would need to glue them before tomorrow, lest his shoes come apart on his first day of school.
Looking himself over in the mirror, he does his best to straighten out his clothes and fix his hair. He can't help the moth bitten holes that spot his shirt, nor can he help the white shoes stained black and brown from years of wear. But he can tussle his hair until the floof on top looks acceptable. He tries to straighten out the overgrown sides with no luck, determining that Rem will need to shave them down when they get back.
Bounding down the stairs two at a time, he calls for Rem, "I'm ready to go!"
She's standing at the door, car keys in hand looking awfully proud at her boy. They may not have much, but they had each other. When his next birthday rolls around in a couple months, Rem would present him with the adoption papers. She still needs to save a bit more for the application, but so long as she kept working doubles, she would have enough.
"Look at you all dapper and fancy. I got you one more thing." She pulls a vibrant red coat from behind herself. It looks to be a couple sizes too big, meant to last Vash into his adult years. "It'll be a bit large on you for a few years, but you'll grow into it." Rem smiles that blinding smile, handing him the coat. The fabric is waterproof, a slight shine to the material, but the turquoise lining inside is plush. Sliding it on, the coat hangs by his knees, sleeves flopping past his finger tips. To say he's swimming in it would be an understatement.
"I love it" He says under his breath, pulling the collar up to his nose.
"I'm glad. Now let's get going!" She ushers him out the door to her ancient car. How the vehicle still runs is beyond Vash's comprehension. Rem starts the car, immediately met with beeps and whistles of protest.
"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. I'll get you fixed one day" She says to the machine, stroking the dashboard. Hitting a couple buttons all but two of the warning lights fade: the check engine and gas tank symbols perpetually on. It always seemed to be running on empty, just at the end of its rope. Yet it ran well enough, driving smoothly and safely for the most part.
The two soon reach the address outlined on the voucher. It's an overwhelmingly large building at the center of the city 30 minutes away from their home. Shining, reflective windows stretch from the foundation to the roof. Entering through the revolving door, they're greeted by a friendly face. "How can I help you today?" Asks the receptionist with her best customer service smile.
"We're here to pick up a prosthetic," Rem replies, handing her the voucher.
Vash sways from side to side, fiddling with his sleeves anxiously. What would it look like? Would it be flesh toned like the one he had now? Would it be vibrantly colored? No matter what he was given, it would be better than the basic, too small prosthetic that barely helped him to hold spoons or a backpack.
"Ah! You'll go to the 3rd floor, second door on your left to pick it up." She passes the voucher back to Rem.
With a "thank you" Rem and Vash head to the location she described. It's easy enough to find and once they arrive, a second receptionist greets them.
"Good morning! You must be Rem, and this must be Vash," He greets them with a smile. Vash waves shyly to the man. "Right this way you two so we can get you registered in our system and fitted for the prosthetic."
Following the man, the group snakes through a couple of hallways to what looks to be a hospital room. Passing Rem a clipboard he says, "Have a seat on the bed, Vash. Dr. Leitner will be with you shortly," before leaving to go back to his desk. He hops up on the medical 'bed'. It's foregin under him, the crinkle of the paper, the feel of the pleather. She hands Vash the clipboard saying, "You're gonna be 12 soon, you gotta learn how to fill these out on your own."
Looking over the sheet he's met with millions of lines and check boxes, he's immediately overwhelmed by this whole thing. Some of the things are easy to fill out: his name, his address, his age, why he needs the prosthetic. But when it asks things like height and weight and allergies he's unsure. "What are these ones, Rem?" He asks, showing her the half filled sheet.
She helps him to complete the rest: no allergies, no medications, no underlying conditions aside from the one that brought them here. Rem leaves the height and weight blank, and asks him a short series of questions about how he's feeling today. Signing the bottom of the sheet, Rem hands it back to Vash. "All that's left is to sign your name."
He stares at the flowery script Rem had used to sign her own, wondering how to replicate that. Printing his name in uneven letters first on the line above, he attempts a signature. The letters run together in connective lines, messy under his untaught hand. When he's done, Rem cracks the door open, signaling that they're ready for the doctor.
A few moments later an older woman passes through the door, her short brown hair is well kept, eyes a warm, friendly brown. She holds a large case under her arm as she says, "Good morning, I'm Dr. Leitner, my partner and I run the Free Foster Prosthetics Program." She stretches out her right hand for Rem to shake, then extends her left one to Vash. The three exchange greetings before she opens the case for Vash to look inside.
The prosthetic is fancier than anything he'd seen before. To think this well-made gift would be his to keep. Small tears fall from his eyes as he scans over the lightweight frame of carbon fiber. It's a simple metallic gray, but the mechanics of the prosthetic are amazing. It's a fully articulated limb that would connect to his shoulder, held in place by a set of straps across his chest.
"This is the latest technology, Vash. Your first prosthetic will be completely brand new, but after that you'll recive hand-me-downs until you're 25. Even if you're no longer a foster child," She smiles at Rem as if she knows something the boy doesn't," you'll still be eligible since you'll be grandfathered in."
"Grandfathered in?" The boy had never heard that term before.
"It means you were receiving services before you became ineligible, meaning you'll continue to get what you need regardless. So long as you turn in your old prosthetics to us before getting a new one, you'll get everything you need til you graduate out of the age cap." She explains. "We have to get you fitted first, of course, but that won't take too long. Follow me."
The doctor guides them to a room with a machine that will take the dimensions of his stump and positioning of the electrodes burried into his muscle and bone. First she takes the dimensions of his chest and waist, measuring the distance from his armpit to his last rib. Then she has him lean up against a machine that'll measure his stump. It's uncomfortable as always, the machine pressing harder and harder against his flesh to test the muscle depth and resistance. But he knows this'll be worth it, something finally going right in his life. He wouldn't have minded only having one arm considering most tasks can be done one handed. However, the fact kept him circulating within the foster system, no family wanting to "adopt damaged goods".
Things started to look up when Rem came around, finally he had someone who genuinely cared and cherished him. But the boy knew she could never adopt him permanently and that one day he would reenter the system once she was deemed unfit to care for him. The two scraped by as it was, anxiety flooding every fiber of their bones whenever the organization would stop by to check on Rem's finances. Regardless, for now, he would live in this fantasy of being mother and son, having someone to care for him with all of their being.
After what felt like an eternity of being squished and poked and prodded, the machine gave a satisfied beep, printing out the information it had received. "Oh, perfect, we have a temporary brace we can give you until the custom one comes in. It'll allow you to wear the prosthetic until then. Please wait in the room while I get it for you." She passes the case to Rem before going to find the temporary joint.
Waiting in the room, Rem hands the case back to Vash for him to look over. Gingerly he takes the object out of the foam padding it's in cased in. It's barely 10 pounds in his hands as he turns it over in his lap, taking in every joint, face, and crevice. He feels the fingers of the semi-transparent hand as the arm is seated between his legs. They're soft, the tips textured to feel similar to skin. The rest of the material is smooth, a silvery plate covering the carbon fiber interior.
Lost in his thoughts, Vash doesn't notice the doctor returning until she passes him the brace "Try it on" She smiles kindly. He slides it over his head and shirt, a large padded carbonfiber plate sliding over his ribs. It conforms relatively well to him, a little big as Rem helps fasten the straps across his torso and over his shoulder. Instead of fitting over the prosthetic like his other harness, it has a slot where the prosthetic attaches to the brace.
Experimentally he reaches forward, then back, bending his elbow and clenching and unchlenching a fist. It feels weird, the feedback a little off as he gets used to the prosthetic. "It'll feel a little weird, especially since the brace wasn't fitted for you personally. But it'll work for the next week or two while we get yours made," The doctor explains.
"It's perfect," Vash cries, fat tears streaming down his face.
"I'll leave you two then." She passes Rem two business cards. "This is my direct line and email should you need anything." Without a further word, she exits the room to take care of her next patient, Vash assumes.
"Did I do good?" Rem asks, already knowing the answer. With two arms he pulls Rem into an awkward hug, sobbing into her shoulder. It's a little while before Vash has calmed down enough for the pair to go home, the boy thanking everyone in the building profusely. He looks over the business card Rem had handed him, wishing he had thanked the kind doctor more.