A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to the second chapter of Fix You! :D I planned on having this up yesterday or Monday, but life got in the way, so...here we are!

Before we get started, I would like to thank everyone that read the first chapter! I would also like to give a huge thank you to RainbowDiamonds, winterschild11, and Guest for reviewing!

I hope you all enjoy!

"This isn't helping," I growl to Kendall.

"What's not?" he asks, not even looking up from his phone. He's smiling as his fingers move, so I'm sure he's texting back and forth with my brother. James is probably asking him if I'm doing my PT.

"Shane, I need you to pay attention to what I'm asking you, please." I glance over at...oh hell, I can't even remember his name. He's trying to appear pleasant and encouraging, but he's talking through gritted teeth, so obviously I'm annoying him as much as he is me.

"I feel like I'm in a fish bowl right now. Do there have to be so many people in the room? I let you get me out of bed. I'm sitting in this chair doing what I'm supposed to. Why do I need an audience? I'm not going to get up and dance around the room or anything," I respond.

Kendall's eyes jump from the phone, narrowing as he focuses on my face. "Do you want me to leave?"

"Not you," I mumble.

From in front of me, fucking Dak leans casually against the side of my bed, arms crossed over his chest. Having to get help from a PT is bad enough, but it being my brother's best friend, the guy James chose to stay in the same city as instead of coming home to me, is adding insult to injury. "He's talking about me, Kendall."

The PT next to me huffs. "Well, Dak's going to be working with you. I'm only here today to walk him through the treatment plan the doctor scheduled for you. He needs to see how far you've gotten."

"Again, I repeat, I'm out of bed, aren't I?"

Dak shakes his head, smirking. Ignoring me completely, he says to his co-worker, "Nice, pawn the pain in the ass patient off on the newbie."

Kendall barks out a laugh next to me. I whip my head back to my supposed best friend. "Why are you laughing? I thought you were on my side." Then turning to whatever his name is, I say, "And do you hear how he's talking to me? I'm a patient. Are you going to let him talk to me like that?"

The dude blinks, but Kendall quickly regains my attention. "I'm laughing because I've never heard Dak be rude before. It's cute." He shrugs one shoulder. "And you can't blame him for calling it like it is. You are being a pain in the ass. Now why don't you get on with it? Roger says you only have to run through everything one time, and then we can have lunch. I'm starving."

"Who the fuck is Roger?" I ask.

"Nice, Shane. Real nice," Dak says, drawing my attention back to him. He points at the guy standing next to me. "Roger is the extraordinarily patient gentleman who's been trying to work with you since you got here. I understand you're feeling sorry for yourself and all, but I didn't realize that your manners were as injured as your legs."

His voice is soft, even while reprimanding me, and it pisses me off even more. I'm aware of the weirdest shit about Dak. His voice is soft? I hate noticing things about him that I shouldn't care about, but I always have. And now my damn brother's making me work with him. Why should the rehab center listen to my brother, anyway? He's a veterinarian. It's not as if he works here.

"Wow," Kendall says before chuckling.

"What?" I snap.

"You just had a whole temper tantrum in your head, didn't you?" he asks.

Grinding my teeth, I start to respond when Dak says, "Stop gnashing your teeth, Shane. We have enough work to do to get you up and out of here without me having to work on your neck for TMJ." Work on my neck...does he mean touch my neck, maybe grab my chin? No. Just no.

I need this to be over. Knowing Kendall was coming by himself for lunch today had been the highlight of my morning and the real reason I let them get me out of bed, but now I want him to go away, too. "What do you need me to do, Roger?" I ask, voice saccharine sweet.

"Oh brother," Kendall mumbles next to me.

Focusing completely on a pucker mark in Roger's face and trying to decide what state it resembles, I let him stretch my legs. Honestly, so far everything he's doing can be done from my bed, so I don't know why they're making such a big deal out of it. It's not like-

"I'm sorry, what?" I ask as Roger pushes red and black resistance bands into my hands, cutting off my wayward thoughts.

Roger takes a deep breath, then pastes the fake smile I've become accustomed to all the staff using on me onto his face. "I'm giving you these resistance bands. I want you to concentrate on the arm exercises you've been doing while I do some stretches with your feet and legs. For now, you're not going to worry about what I'm doing. Okay?"

I shrug. "Whatever."

"There's the spirit, Shane," Kendall says sarcastically. For fuck's sake, what's his problem? I'm doing it, aren't I? I didn't say no. I'm not yelling at anyone. Damn, I'm out of bed. What the hell does everyone want from me?

My frustration grows as I watch Roger moving my feet around. I'm trying to keep all my attention directed on the thickness of the hard plastic handles in my hands, the pull of the bands as I run through one of the many upper body stretches they've given me, but it's not enough. The more he manipulates my lower half, the more conscious I am of the fact I can't sense anything. It's disconcerting to watch my body move with no effort on my part, and no acknowledgment in my brain. Acid bubbles throughout my stomach like fizz in a freshly poured soda, popping and spitting. My life is no longer my own. Hell, my body isn't even mine any longer. Wanting to scream, I lash out, throwing the bands across the room, past my bed onto the floor, with a low, rumbly growl.

Roger jumps back as Kendall says, "Shane, enough," in the hard voice he uses on criminals.

Dak, however, calmly stands from where he's been slouching against my bed. He walks and bends over-dear god almighty, that ass. Holy shit. It would fill my hands perfectly. I bet it'd be like biting into a juicy piece of-I jerk my upper body back into my chair as Dak stands back up and walks towards us.

"...so no worries, Roger. But I really appreciate you taking the time," Dak says. What's he talking about? What did I miss?

"If you're sure?" Roger asks. At the nod of Dak's head, Roger doesn't even glance in my direction as he hightails it out of the room like he was just freed from a hostage situation.

"Do you want to help me get him back in bed?" Dak asks Kendall.

"May as well," Kendall says.

"Wait." when they both ignore me and go to either side of me, I raise my voice. I know I promised to chill out, but what the hell? "What's going on? You're not going to manhandle me without my permission."

I look from one face to the other. Dak's expression is unreadable, but Kendall has an eyebrow quirked at me, his amusement clear. "Manhandle you, huh? Interesting choice of words."

Before I can answer him, Dak is dangling the resistance bands off his finger in front of my chest. "If you want to stay out of bed and eat your lunch with your best friend like a big boy, then you have to follow my rules."

I open my mouth to blast the cocky little shit, when I hear Kendall's whisper next to my ear, "Remember, he's your brother's best friend. He's doing this as a favor to James. Watch yourself."

Instead of responding out loud, I yank the band from Dak. "Then what're you waiting for?" I ask, keeping my mouth shut, stewing in how irritating Dak is as he works my lower body. There's still no sensation, but I'm so consumed by the aggravating man bent over me, I don't even notice that he's worked through the whole routine until he's done.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" I grunt in response, but he's smiling at Kendall. "You can tell James that we had a great first day. I know exactly how to proceed from here, and whether he wants to or not, we'll have his brother up in no time."

"Hellooooo!" I say, clenching my hands around the plastic handles so hard, I'm scared they're going to snap. "I'm the patient. My brother isn't my parent. How about you tell me about this great idea you think you have."

An evil grin flits across Dak's face. "Easy. When you act like a child, I'll treat you like one. When you start acting like an adult, I'll reward you like one." My apparently broken brain fixates on reward. A vision of him riding me as I fill my hands with that ass of his...Shaking my head, I turn my head from him and whatever he's prattling on about.

"So what's for lunch?" I ask Kendall, watching his green eyes darken in annoyance at my dismissal of Dak.

Behind me, I hear, "Child it is, then." Dak's laugher follows behind him as he moves toward the door. "See you tonight, Kendall," is the last thing he says before I'm left alone with my best friend.

"Go ahead. Yell at me some more," I say as soon as I glance at the door and assure myself we're alone.

Kendall crosses his arms across his chest. A cocky smirk slowly takes residence on his face. "Nah. I think Dak's got this." He moves his phone around and pulls out the containers James sent for us with our lunch and begins talking about the gym. Huh. That was easy.

We have an enjoyable lunch, avoiding the topics of my recovery and work. It's only with Kendall that I could spend an hour shooting the shit without talking about either of those topics. We're into all the same things so we talk sports and about the latest show I've been binging on Netflix on my tablet.

"Thanks, Kendall," I say as he gathers the empty plastic containers together to leave.

"For what?" He stops what he's doing and tilts his head.

"Giving me an hour to talk about normal things. Not think about…" I wave my hand down my body.

He plants his balled fists on his hips. "Not think about how you're purposefully not doing your PT so you don't have to know for sure whether you can walk or not? Or the fact that you've been shying away from hearing any details about work?" Then raising one arm, he taps his chin with his pointer finger. "Oh, I know, you're thanking me for not pushing the conversation about your brother moving back to Baltimore and how much you resent thinking he stayed for me and not you?" My blood pressure starts to skyrocket as he continues, my pulse beating its own rapid rhythm in my temple. Kendall holds up his hand. "Dude, I get it. No one knows as well as I do how hard you've worked to condition your body. Which is also why I'm convinced you'll walk again, by the way. But your job and brother mean everything to you, and you have to be scared. Scared you'll never get back on the job. Scared that James will decide he hates it here again, and leave. Maybe take me with him. So I get why you're not ready to discuss any of it yet. I do get it."

He leans into my space, his face right in front of mine. Needing the heaviness in my chest to ease, I tease quickly, "Dude, you're not going to kiss me, right? I know little bro and I are twins, but you should really be able to tell us apart by now."

His brow scrunches. "Shay, this is me. No yelling. No bullshit. I can't even imagine how hard this is for you. But your problem"-he taps his finger against my throbbing temple-"is here, and until you let us in and you're honest with yourself, at least…" He stands back up to his full height, towering above me while I'm stuck in this damn chair. "There's not space for too many more elephants in this room, partner."

I swallow around the lump in my throat, wanting to say something, anything. It won't matter, though. I can't bullshit Kendall. Aside from my brother, he knows me better than anyone else. Everything he's saying is true.

"Oh," he says over his shoulder as he strolls toward the door. "If you don't want to squeeze another large, thirteen thousand pound metaphorical elephant into this room with us, you better how to figure out how to explain that to your brother."

"Explain what?" I ask softly, still reeling from how he nonchalantly just called me out.

"How you've gone your whole life forgetting to ever mention, to any of us, that as long as it's a nice ass, all ass is appealing to you." As my eyes widen, he winks and is out the door.

Well, hell.

I save the most annoying, frustrating, grouchy patient for last so as soon as I finish with him, I can go home and relax, or maybe have a drink. Because I'll need it after dealing with him. The past few days have been a test of my patience with Shane. He's making me a little crazy, and maybe it's because I know him that he's getting under my skin so easily because I don't usually mind the grumpy patients. Actually, sometimes I like them because they're more of a challenge to get to trust me.

But for whatever reason, Shane Diamond is driving me insane. I sorta want to shake him and make him realize what an ass he's being, but I'm a professional and haven't done that...yet. And okay, maybe I've been saying a few...less than professional things to him, but come on. He's James' brother, he's my best friend's identical twin, and I'm so used to not holding myself back with James that I find it hard to hold back with Shane. Let's be real, lord knows my patience is running thin, so sooner or later I might snap.

Taking a deep breath, I lightly knock, then push open the dreaded door of room 104 and find myself face to face with Mr. Sourpuss.

Pasting on a smile I'm not feeling, I say, "Hey, Shane. How's your day going?"

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. I watch him start to say something-probably something rude-before cutting himself off, and I sigh. I know James told him to be nicer to me, so I'm sure that's the only thing keeping him from telling me off right now. Which is ridiculous. I'm here to help him.

Ignoring his grumpy ass, I get his chair set up for his exercises as I prattle on, "My day is going well, or it was before I came in here. Not that you asked, but I figured somewhere under all that scruff is a polite guy that would've asked if he wasn't so determined to be a jerk."

"You can't keep talking to me like that. I talked to your boss yesterday about you."

"Oh, I had a lovely conversation with her this morning. And guess what?" I shoot him a more genuine grin which makes him pout at me. "She told me to keep doing what I'm doing since I'm the only one that's been able to get you to run through your exercises. Which means…" I trail off and add an arm for dramatic flair. "We're stuck together!"

He groans and rolls his eyes again-something he seems to do a lot around me-then says, "Pretty sure my brother wouldn't have been happy if we weren't working together anyway."

"That's the spirit!" I snort as I walk to the side of his bed and slide my arms under him before lifting him into the chair. This part usually makes him more pissy, but today, he doesn't say anything. Progress.

Well, it was progress until he huffed out an annoyed breath at me. Ugh.

I feel for the guy, I really do, but does he have to act like I'm the enemy?

"This is really stupid. I've been doing my arm exercises," he complains. Like a freaking baby.

"We need to do your legs, so get over it."

"You're kind of a jerk." He pouts at me again, but instead of seeing his usual red-hot anger, I see...amusement, maybe?

"Yeah, well, you're no ray of sunshine, either, you giant oaf, so I would look who's talking."

He snorts, and the sound brings a small smirk to my mouth. If he thinks he can scare me away with that asshat mouth of his, he has another thing coming.

Once I have him set up and running through his upper body exercises and I'm busy working with his legs, I notice how his attitude has gone from bad to worse. His face is red with anger and frustration, and now he's tense and refusing to speak. Lovely.

I start talking nonsense. Anything is better than listening to his brooding silence. "...Once you get to spend time with the kittens, you'll see what I'm talking about. They're really adorable. And Peanut loves them, too. I miss my little Pea-man. I used to take him for a walk every day after work because James got home after me every day, so I'd take him to go potty and walk around the apartment complex for a bit until James got home." I sigh. "I miss it. I went for a walk yesterday by myself and it was...not fun without a dog. I wonder if Kendall would think it's weird if I stopped by their house just to take Peanut for a walk. He would, wouldn't he? He'd think I'm being weird and clingy and I'll end up driving him crazy and then he won't want me around and he won't let James hang out with me anymore. But what the hell am I supposed to do all by myself in that house if I don't have a dog or something? I can-"

"If you like pets so much, why don't you just get one yourself?" Shane cuts me off, surprising the hell out of me because I hadn't thought he was paying attention to a word of my ridiculousness.

"Um...I'm in your house, so I can't really get one right now."

"Why not?"

"Uh...you wouldn't mind if I had a dog in your house?"

"You know James had Peanut there." He shrugs, but he's not even glancing in my direction.

"Soooo...I can get a dog?"

"I don't care what you do, Dak." He sounds tired and frustrated.

I gently place my hand on his forearm and stop his movements, then wait until he looks me in the eye before I say, "Hey."

His eyes search my face, but he doesn't reply. His hazel eyes are filled with so many emotions, I can't tell what he's thinking.

"Thank you, Shane. I really appreciate it." I mean every word, and I hope he can tell I'm being sincere.

After a long pause, he whispers, "It's no big deal, but you're welcome." His eyes are sparkling with a happiness I haven't seen in him since I moved here. I never noticed how gorgeous his eyes are. With his scruffy beard covering his skin, his eyes stand out even more. He's actually really handsome. He has laugh marks around those pretty eyes, and I can't help but wonder what he looks like when he really, truly laughs. I wish I could make him laugh so I could see it.

I send him a grateful smile and squeeze his forearm again. Ignoring how strong those arm muscles feel-it's clear he's been working his upper body every day-I release him and stand, turning my back to him to gather myself.

Why the hell am I thinking about his eyes and his muscles? For fuck sake, he's straight, and that is not a road I need to travel down. And the kicker, he looks exactly like James, like my best friend that I consider a brother, and I'm over here...checking him out? Blech.

Before I can freak myself out anymore, I push the thoughts away and turn back to Shane to work through his exercises. And after he's all finished up, I get him back into his bed and head toward the door.

But I stop and glance over my shoulder at him. "Hey, Shane?"

"Yeah?"

"You did really great today. I know you don't feel like it, but you are making progress."

He eyes me for a second before slightly nodding. "Thanks, Dak."

I grin at him as I shut the door behind me.

XxX

It's been three days since Shane told me I can get a dog, and I'm so freaking excited. Yesterday, I went to the shelter James volunteers at and have narrowed it down to two dogs. I took pictures of them both, and I can't stop looking at them. I feel so guilty that I can't take them both home, but getting even one was unlikely, so two would probably push Shane too far. I don't want to give him a reason to change his mind. And I'm thinking if I show him the pictures and have him help pick one, he won't be able to.

Today, I knock on Shane's door with a true smile. He's still being an ass to the staff, but he seems to have some kind of truce with me.

Or at least that's what I think before I walk into his room.

"What in the holy hell did you do in here?" I ask as my mouth hangs open in shock.

Shane glares daggers in my direction, but I hardly notice him past the horrible mess in the room.

James had brought him a plant the other day to try to brighten up the sterile looking room, and we both thought that maybe having something else to care for could be good for Shane. Well, apparently we were wrong. Like really fucking wrong.

He had taken the plant out of its pot and threw its dirt on the ground, then...ripped the plant apart, by the looks of it.

"What the heck did that plant ever do to you?" I ask, still taking in the scene. The chair we use for PT is on its side and a box of tissues are on the floor along with a cup of now melted ice.

"Leave me alone."

"No."

"Please, Dak...please just leave me alone." His voice sounds so defeated and upset that I snap my gaze to him. As I take him in, I notice a bruise on his cheek, so I step closer to him.

"What happened, Shane?"

He turns away from me so I can no longer see the bruise. "Nothing. Please leave."

Making my way through the mess, I step up beside his bed, and when he tries to turn away again, I gently grab his shoulder so he can't. Then I take his chin between my fingers and tilt his face so I can get a good look at the bruise. It's purple and black, swollen, and even bleeding a little. "What happened?" I keep my voice soft.

"It's stupid. Don't worry about it."

"You can tell me. I won't judge." I know many patients get embarrassed and frustrated when they have trouble, and I want to reassure him.

His eyes dart around my face for a moment before he focuses them on a spot over my left shoulder. "I couldn't reach my stupid sudoku book."

I go to the cabinet to get out supplies, and when I begin cleaning the cut, he doesn't elaborate, so I say, "That doesn't tell me how you got this cut and bruise on your face."

He sighs. "I put one hand on the damn table next to the bed and tried to reach for it, but apparently, there was some water on it, so my hand slipped and I banged my face on the bed rail."

He still won't look me in the eyes, so I continue cleaning the cut. "That sucks, man, but I don't think throwing a temper tantrum helped the situation, do you?"

He rolls his eyes and crosses those toned arms over his chest.

"Looks like you have a lot of mess to clean up."

He drops his arms and finally stares up at me. "And how the fuck am I supposed to do that when I'm stuck in this damn bed?"

I grin at him. "Remember when I said if you act like a child, I'm going to treat you like one? Well...here's your first punishment. No one else is helping you. You have to clean this shit up yourself."

"Whatever, Dak. Guess there's going to be dirt all over the floor now. It's not like it'll bother me since I can't even walk on it anyway."

With a sigh, I finish up with his face, then walk to the trash can to peel off my gloves and throw the trash away. I grab the broom and trek back over to this extremely frustrating man. "Here."

"What am I going to do with that? Sit on it and fly around the room?"

A reluctant chuckle escapes, but I shake my head. "No, you ass. You're going to sweep."

"Good luck with that-"

Before he keeps complaining like a butthead, I scoop his upper body up and move him around until he's sitting on the edge of the bed with his feet hanging, then I thrust the broom into his hands. "Here. Now sweep up your mess, you child."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"I'm not doing it."

"If you're good, I'll give you a treat."

He snorts, and I see a very tiny small pop up on his lips. "What kind of treat?"

I can't help but chuckle. "I still have a bag of those sour gummy things you like. They're at home, but I can bring them in on Monday."

"Really?"

I laugh. "Yes, Shane. I'll give you a treat if you're a good little boy."

He pushes my shoulder hard enough, I stumble back a step, and it makes me laugh. Then freaking finally, he grabs the broom and begins sweeping. He likely won't be able to reach all of the mess, but he'll get the bulk of it. As he leans forward to reach the corner, I'm afraid he might slip, so I snake my arm under his arms so it's against his chest, then I hold onto the bed rail so I'm blocking him and he can lean on me if he needs to.

I hear a little gasp and realize Shane is frozen to the spot. I take him in, not seeing an issue but becoming abundantly aware of how close he is to me. I'm practically hugging him, and of course, the only thing I can think about is how muscular he feels against my arm.

His hazel eyes search my face and his mouth opens, just a tad, and an inaudible gasp falls from my lips. He's so damn gorgeous and that beard is freaking delicious. I sorta want to kiss his lips. I wonder if they're soft or hard. I wonder what they taste like. From the way his eyes keep flicking over my face and landing on my lips, I think he's wondering the same things about me. But...Shane isn't gay. And...even if he was, would I really want to kiss him. Of all people.

My mouth is practically drooling out a hell yes I want to kiss him.

But then the spell is broken when a pair of soft hazel eyes flash through my mind, and suddenly, I'm gasping for a different reason as the pain hits me swiftly. It cuts through me like a sharp knife and pierces my heart until I feel like I'm bleeding out right here in this room. My throat tightens, making it harder to breathe, and I feel dizzy.

"Are you okay?" Shane whispers.

I nod even though I'm not alright. Not at all.

Closing my eyes, I breathe through the pain. After several minutes, I push it down as far as possible. It isn't an easy feat, but I'm used to working on keeping it at bay. The pain is still there-always, it's always there, but sometimes it's worse than others. Hopefully I pushed it down enough to get through this last patient. That's all Shane is. A patient. Okay, he's James' brother, but that's it. I can do this.

The anxiety doesn't completely go away, but I manage to help Shane through his exercises, then get him back into his bed. And as soon as I finish with him, I scramble out of there, take out my phone, and call the only person that will understand.

James picks up on the second ring. "Hey."

"I...I need you, Jay." My chest is tight again.

"I can pick you up. Are you at work?"

"Yeah, but I'm in my car already. Are you home?"

"Yes." Without me even asking, James stays on the phone with me as I drive to his house, and he tells me stories about some of the animals he worked on today. He distracts me, which is exactly what I need.

When I park in his driveway, he's out the door before I can fully exit the car, and when I do get out, he pulls me into a tight hug.

My tears fall before I make it into the house and grief overwhelms me like it always does. They say time heals all wounds, but I'm pretty sure that's just bullshit.

Nothing will ever heal this hole in my heart.

Done! So, kind of a rollercoaster of a chapter, but it looks like Shane and Dak made a little bit of progress and have a bit of a truce going on at the moment.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter, as well as if you happened to have a favorite part/moment!

Again, I hope you all enjoyed and that you all are doing well! The next chapter of this will be up next week! And for those of you reading Paranormal Tactical Unit, I plan on having the next chapter of that up either tomorrow or Friday. :)

Until then!

-Epically Obsessed