The IV BodyBuilder
Hurry!  We need his heart rate and blood pressure stabilized.  Pump him full of confidence, Hope and Selene.  Why these ham heads strive so hard for self-fulfilling respect is beyond me!  Who do they think they are?  Superheroes?
His eyes bolted open.  He said “IM Back!”  The EMT cranked the radio noting In Your Head by Eminem playing.  With a salute to Zombie by the Cranberries, his blood started pumping the blood pressure machine like that was ITS job.  His heart had been injured at one time.  Relentless training , both physical and emotional, he actually reached the state of BEST SHAPE EVER.
Fans again re-realized this was just another Tuesday for the beast.  Each setback seemed to spring him forward.  If only the X and Y had endless amounts of energy to refocus on the same targets…  again.  shoulders shrugged.  At least he tries harder than entire Olympic teams combined.  Room to breathe, time to evaluate inputs, communicating openly and sharing all help him move the Titanic-sized weight sleds in his head.  His brain was once put in a glass jar and shaken so hard it bruised and bled.  The doctors were amazed by him offering them comfort mid-trauma.  He screamed at night that he’s been trying to reach out.
The hospital hallways were littered with crafted collages reading cut out words of strength, determination and willpower cut from magazines, taped to blanks.  He felt buffered sharing his hearts squiggly lines on the monitor.  He hoped that by clearing the piles of wreckage independently that signal that he would appreciate being carried metaphorically.  His head, let alone feet felt like an anvil.

Tiptoeing around Intentional Vulnerability was probably a bit too familiar of a feeling for the beast. He wanted reciprocity. He lifted rocks and logs searching for it.  He hung billboard-sized HELP WANTED signs.

Being honest and brave at the same time was hard. He had weaknesses, too.