A/N: This idea came to me as I was writing my other fic. This one is also modern AU. I'd just like to put out there that I am not a medical professional, so if the terms or situations aren't 100% accurate that would be why. Also, this story only reflects Bates character in a disabled situation. This in no way reflects a real life disabled situation, and is completely fictional of course. I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Downton Abbey and all of its characters belong to Julian Fellowes. I own nothing.

"You're being discharged this afternoon at two o'clock, Mr. Bates. Our social worker will be in soon to tell you your physical therapy location," said the nurse.

"Yes. Thank you."

"Well, at least I won't have to drive all the way to the hospital now," Vera stated.

"I don't even know why you're here Vera."

"I have to keep up appearances Batesy. We are in the middle of a divorce. I can't always look like the bad guy, but in saying that I can't take you home today. I have a hair appointment then I have plans later."

"Fine by me. Robert will come get me anyways," he replied.

"Yes, if only you had of retired from the military when he did, maybe you wouldn't be crippled as you are now. Oh well."

John bit back a very improper comment then spoke,"Please just go Vera. We have nothing more to say to each other."

"Maybe not on this score, but we still have plenty to go over Batesy. Bye now," she said, then left his hospital room.

John leaned his head back against the raised hospital bed and closed his eyes. He let out a deep breath and winced a little when he tried to move his leg. He knew his recovery was only just starting, and that the physical therapy would be physically and mentally exhausting. He wasn't looking forward to it at all, but the doctor had been insistent that if he chose not to go he would more likely have to end up using a wheelchair. This mortified him. Sure he wasn't a young man, but thirty eight wasn't old either. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life being dependent on others. Being a burden was the last thing he wanted. He had been emotionally drained for a while now. He was going through a divorce, acquired an injury while serving Queen and country, and now he had to figure out how he was going to do it all alone. He knew Robert would help him, but he could only help him to a certain extent. He had a family of his own and a business to run. Vera was the only other option he had at the moment, but that was a complete, utter joke. Not only did he not want her anywhere near him, but she would just sit there and belittle him through the recovery. He would much rather deal with it by himself, and he was determined to.

He picked up the hospital phone and dialed Robert's number. It began to ring, and then Robert's voice came through the phone.

"Hello."

"Hey Rob."

"Bates, how are you?"

"I'm okay. I'm being discharged today at two. Would you be available to come pick me up?" He hated that he even had to ask him.

"Of course. I'll be there around one thirty to make sure everything goes well, and then I'll take you home."

"Thanks, Rob. I owe you one."

"Rubbish. See you soon."

He put the phone back down on the receiver and sighed. Home. He did have a lovely two story home in a nice neighborhood with three bedrooms and a large back garden, but all of that would be going to Vera. His home was now a one bedroom, one bath flat. The only perk was that it had a balcony. He was thankful to whoever decided buildings should have lifts because there was no way he could get to his third floor flat in his condition.

The social worker came in then.

"Hello, Mr. Bates my name is Rebecca. I work as the hospital's social worker, and I'm here to give you the physical therapy location the doctor recommended."

"Yes, they told me to expect you. Nice to meet you Rebecca."

"Likewise, now here is the information on the location. It's called SMD Physical Therapy. The address and telephone number are listed there, and it looks like you are setup to meet with Jane Morrison. She will give you the best chances to regain full use of your right leg again. I confirmed a Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule with their office. Are those days okay with you?"

"Yes." He didn't have anything else to do.

"Okay then. I'll make sure to let the nurse know we discussed this and that everything is confirmed. I hope your recovery is a quick one Mr. Bates."

"Thank you Rebecca."

At that the social worker left. He looked over the information that was left with him. He assumed he'd see a male physical therapist, not for any particular reason, but a woman would be fine probably better even. He placed the information on the table next to him then drifted off to sleep.

He jerked awake when he felt a hand on his shoulder, looking up it was Robert.

"I didn't realize I was out that long."

Robert patted him on the shoulder. "You needed the rest. Now, we need to make sure your things are packed up and then wait for the discharge nurse."

Robert pulled John's overnight bag out of the closet and began to put his things inside of it. John laid there embarrassed and ashamed that another grown man was packing his things for him.

The discharge nurse came into the room with a wheelchair and crutches. "Good afternoon, Mr. Bates. These are going home with you today. I hope you've got room in your vehicle."

"I can put that stuff in my trunk. No big deal," Robert replied.

John's face sunk when he saw the equipment. It was almost like it was mocking him as the nurse brought it into the room. She unfolded the wheelchair so he could use it to get out of the hospital then continued.

"I just have some forms for you to sign then you'll be on your way."

After he signed the forms and got assistance getting into the wheelchair, Robert was rolling John out of the hospital with John holding onto the crutches over his lap. They got to the car and Robert opened the trunk. He then opened the passenger side door and rolled John as close as he could to the side of the car, putting on the brakes.

"Do you want to lean on me as you try to get in?" Robert offered.

"No, I need to do it myself."

Robert stepped back a little and John attempted to raise himself from the wheelchair but didn't have the strength to do it. He sat back down in defeat.

"It's alright mate. It's just going to take some time. Now, let's do this together."

Robert helped John up and got him into the car. He rolled the wheelchair to the back on the car, folded it up, put it in the trunk, and closed it. They didn't talk a whole lot on the way to John's other than about his appointments. They stopped off at the chemist to pick up his pain medication, which Robert went inside to pick up for him, and then they arrived at his flat.

"So, your first appointment is tomorrow?" Robert asked, making sure he had the dates right.

"Yes, at ten."

"Okay, I'll be here at nine to help you get ready."

John inwardly groaned at how helpless all this was making him feel. He didn't have any other option though so he accepted the help.

"Alright."

They finally got John into his flat. Robert took his bag into his bedroom, and placed the crutches where he could reach them. It looked like everything else was alright when he spoke,"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

John shook his head. "No thank you Rob. You've done more than enough."

"I'll see you in the morning then. Call if you need me."

"I will." He lied.

At that Robert made his way out and closed the door behind him.

John sat there in the wheelchair in his small living room. It all felt too real in that moment. His mind was feeling numb kind of like a void while his leg throbbed with pain. He was coming to the realization that this was his life now. A life he felt didn't have purpose. He now didn't have a career, a real home, and soon no wife. He was thankful for the latter, but still he felt useless.

He decided to go take one of the pain pills the doctor prescribed. He rolled himself into the kitchen and saw the bottle sitting on the counter. He opened the bottle, placed one pill in his hand, and then put the bottle back on the counter. He briefly looked for a glass, but he knew they were up in the cabinet. He didn't feel like exerting his energy to get a glass, so he rolled a short distance more to the sink. He leaned over to turn on the faucet and placed the pill in his mouth. He then cupped his hand to fill it with water to bring to his mouth. After repeating this action a few times, the pill finally went down.

He turned off the faucet and noticed half his shirt was wet from the water dripping on him. He didn't care, and rolled himself out of the kitchen and down the hall to his bedroom. The crutches Robert brought it were leaning against the dresser, so he positioned the chair between the dresser and the side of the bed. He grabbed hold of the crutches, locked the brakes on the wheelchair, and slowly began pulling himself up. The muscle in his good leg shook as he pulled himself up straight. He then maneuvered the crutches under his arms and took a step forward. It was only a couple more steps until he was lowering himself onto the side of the bed. He was left out of breath from his efforts. Here he was a military man trained for extreme conditions and circumstances, but he was out of breath from moving from a chair to a bed.

He leaned the crutches against his night stand and reached into his pocket for his phone. He hooked up the phone to the charger laying on the night stand, it had been dead for some time now, then eased his way back onto the bed. He took off his left shoe with his right hand, and used his left foot to carefully slide off his right one. He gathered his pillows and put them up against the headboard to prop himself up except for one. The remaining pillow he reached down to put under his leg. He gritted his teeth through the pain as he put the pillow into place and leaned back. How he was going to make it through therapy tomorrow he didn't know. He reached inside the drawer to the night stand and pulled out a copy of King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table. He had read it many times before but opened it to the beginning and began to read. He really wasn't sure if he wanted sleep to come or to elude him. His dreams weren't really dreams, more like nightmares. The worst ones were the ones he could smell. It made the so called dream even more real, like he was right there in the midst of it. A few hours had gone by and he hadn't gotten very far with his reading, so he laid the book to the side, turned off the lamp, and closed his eyes in attempt to get rest for tomorrow. It was only a quarter till seven, but he knew it would take a while to fall asleep. Before too long sleep eventually came.

More characters will be introduced next chapter. Thanks for reading!