I'm bringing it back, bros.

That's right.

(To new readers: sup. I hope you enjoy this. To my old readers: BRINGING IT BAAAACK)

A knock at the door drags me outta sleep and right away I'm fuckin' angry. It's my day off, ain't no battles scheduled today, an' if I gotta get up at 0700, there better be a good fuckin' reason.

I ain't even dressed, just sleepin' in my boxers, and I figure if anyone's desperate enough to see me at this time they can handle me undressed. I run one hand through my hair before bellowin, "Who the hell is it? Ain't you got any idea what time it is?"

"It is time for your examination, dear Scout," purrs a voice.

Ah, fuck.

I hate doctors.

I bounce up, wrench open that door. 'Course he's all immaculate and shit, looks like he irons his underwear he's so uptight and 'proper'. I don't understand how anyone can look that together in the morning.

"Ain't you got someone else to prod with a needle?" I grunt at him. I rub my stubble - fuck you, what little there is of it. I need a shower and a shave, maybe a can of Bonk to wake me up. He just laughs at me, points at my boxers.

"What a charming print, Scout."

Ah, fuck. I'm wearing the teddy bear boxers Ma sent me. Course, I didn't bother to check. I huff at him, haul on my pants. I'm reaching fer my shirt when he stops me, grabs my arm.

"You won't need zat. I'll be conducting a full physical examination. I need only an hour out of your ... busy schedule." Ah, fuck him. He's drippin' sarcasm. Sure, ain't like I got much to do today, but I'm so fuckin' busy the rest of the time it's nice to have a break.

"Okay, okay, keep yer shorts on, gramps. I'm comin'." He holds the door for me, gives me a little bow, and I have to squeeze past him, he's takin' up so much room. This guy looks like he should be fat and old but he's fuckin' ripped and it's making me a bit uncomfortable to feel his muscles brush me as I slip past him.

I guess I'm a bit nervous - I don't want no needles and I'm sure that's what's comin' - so I start gettin' loud. Real loud. So loud that before we even reach his exam room I'm almost runnin' up the walls. Bouncing off 'em, literally - I get a runnin' start, jump off the wall and see how close I can get to him without hittin' him. I guess that's kinda how I broke his glasses.

"Scout!" he yells, an' for a second he looks real mad. I stop dead, sheepish-like, and scuff the ground. I'm barefoot, end up with a bit of lino burn on my toe.

"Sorry, doc," I tell him, pickin' up his glasses. It's right on the arm that it's broken, an' I figure Engie could fix it up real good. I tell him so.

"Yes, Scout, I shall bring zem to him shortly." Blind as a fuckin' bat he is, obviously, cause he's squintin' real hard. "But for now I have a spare pair in my office. Please, no more shenanigans!"

He takes off again, an this time I follow behind, wantin' not to piss him off. I've seen him angry and it ain't a pretty sight.

I guess that's why I don't kick up a fuss when he sits me on the exam table. I just wait real patient while he goes into his office to get his glasses. At least, I'm patient for a couple of minutes. Then I start pokin' at his knives and poky things and peerin' around trying to find where he keeps his needles. I hate needles so goddamn much. I guess he knew to hide 'em, cause if I could find 'em I'd sure as hell make sure he ain't never getting near me with one again.

He's kinda annoyed when he comes back in and finds me up to my elbows in bandages, wrappin' my hands. Fuck, I get distracted real easy.

"Scout, sit on ze TABLE," he snaps, and I scuttle back, poutin'.

"Jeez, okay, doc, no need to flip out!"

He doesn't bother to answer, just sticks his stethomascope on my chest and it's fuckin' freezing. It's hard to sit still so I start fidgeting. You know, tying bandages again and again. He didn't say nothin' about me takin' them so I guess he just doesn't mind. Maybe.

"Do I need to strap you down? I will not hesitate if I must."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, doc." I'm practically bouncin' in place now as he tests my nerves and shit, whackin' on my elbows like he's swattin' a roach. Doesn't he know how hard it is for me to sit like this? I gotta run, I'm awake now, and my feet itch to pound a track.

Now he's testin' my knees, gettin' real impatient with my pants cause they're in the way I guess. "Scout, take zese off, bitte," he tells me. I get all red in the face, knowin' he'll mock my shorts again.

"Do I gotta?" I ask him, and I guess I whined a bit because he rolls his eyes and snaps, "now!"

So I hop down, strip 'em off, and kinda bounce in place 'til he pushes my chest and makes me sit back down. His fingers are touchin' me all soft, feels like spiders, and I realize he ain't wearin' gloves. Super gay.

I sorta jump up and flip out, and he snaps, I swear to god he's crazy as shit. He shoves me down on my back and holds me there, straps my fuckin' wrists. I am NOT okay with this.

"Jesus, doc, what the fuck?" I yelp, tuggin' at the straps on my arms as he ties down my legs. This REALLY ain't okay, I can't run now. I start freakin' out, breathin' real fast.

"I warned you," he says, almost teasin' me. "Now perhaps I can examine you in peace. Shut up," he adds, distracted like.

I ain't gonna cry, I ain't gonna cry, I ain't gonna cry. I don't like being held down.

Something in his eyes is makin' me uneasy.

He leans in close and shoves up his glasses on his face. "Vhat is zis contusion?" he asks, runnin' his fingers along my hip.

"What the fuck is a confusion?" I ask right back.

"Zis bruise," he explains, looking pained. He taps it with his thumb. I wince like a motherfucking wimp. "Aww, does someone hurt?"

For a moment he looks a bit scared. I don't get it until he leans in and kisses my bruise.

Okay, this is beyond fuckin' gay now. I thrash around a bit. "Lemme go," I demand. "This ain't cool."

He puts his hand over my mouth, licks my ear. I can't help it, it feels fuckin' good and I shiver.

"Zis is most definitely 'cool', Liebling. Let me look at you."

He takes his hand away, and before I know it he's kissin' me. Oh, fuck. Way too gay for words.