Disclaimer: Everything except the idea belongs to Marvel.

A/N: This is a translation of my german drabble „Fesseln". Of course, this aren´t 100 words any more (but almost). However, it is the content that is important :) I hope you will enjoy it!


Today I am ready for action. I bounce downstairs and into the garden. The gravel crunches beneath my feet. After going for a run with Hank, I climb onto the satellite dish and watch proudly Sean´s flying practices. I cycle to a lake with the students. Moira is present as well. The soft grass on which we are running barefooted. And swimming... No. A daydream. My legs are shackling me to the wheelchair. I can´t even move them, let alone start up and kick at the table because of the grief and the despair brought about by this state. I wipe the back of the hand over my traitorously watery eyes.