Milantha's eyes filled with tears borne of despair more than pain as her knees buckled and she pitched to the ground. She buried her face in her hands and cried out roughly in her frustration and anger. Why? Why why why? Her face flushed and misery flooded inot her as a comforting hand gripped her shoulder gently. A soft voice spoke to her but she just shook her head, notd even hearing the words, still deafened by the roaring Why.

"Why can't I do this??" She finally screeched. "Why? Why can't I? I'm stornger than this thing, I know it, I've proved it! Why? I can breathe but why can't I walk?!" She sobbed violently and covered her face, ashamed at her failure and at the hot, salty tears that she couldn't hold back. Her mother reached for her but she jerked away angrily, a new fury rising in her at the mere thought of more patronizing, more soothing words that brought no comfort. Her father started to slide his arms gently aroujnd her to take her back to that hateful contraption, the wheeled throne of failure. She shoved him away as well, refusing to go back. Blue met brown over her head, no less hurt in their shared gaze that was held in Milantha's tear-filled eyes.

A fourth pair of eyes looked down on them all, these a deep, sparkling blue. Flash Freeflight dropped a pale-feathered hand on his sister's shoulder and nudged her away gently. She stood and stepped back. Her husband joined her, wrapping the arms Milantha had refused around her as they watched anxiously.

Flash sat down a short distance from the stubborn young girl. His heart ached a little as he looked at her, hating to see such pain in one so young. Particularly this one.

He locked his pity deep inside. It was not wanted or needed and it would do no good. So he set it aside, and asked the only question of any importance to him.

"How can we help, Mil-mil?"

She cast him a look that held just a hint of a smile in spite of her tears. "Stop calling me that."

He sat and looked back at her, as if patiently waiting instruction. She looked back at him for a moment, then shook her head and sighed wearily. "Get me a tissue." Flash handed her a hankerchief. She used it and then stuffed it in her pocket, ruefully certain she would need it again before long. she raked her fingers through her thick hair, trying to get it back out of her face. Her mother stepped up and rather tentatively handed her a band to tie it back with. Milantha accepted it and then wiped her face on more time before allowing it to settle into an expression of grim determination. She wiped her hands on her jeans and then pressed them to the floor, pushing herself up onto her knees. She held herself there a moment, gradually shifting her weight until she could sit up.

"Uncle Flash," she gritted, and he was at her side, offering his arm as a ladder.

So it went, little by little. Flash gave no aid until it was asked for, and made no remark about how well or how poorly she proceeded. He merely stood by her, and did what was needed.