Disclaimer: I don't own any of the wrestlers or WWE officials.

A/N: So, I've been planning this out and, as far as I can tell, there's only going to be two chapters left, but there is going to be a sequel (and a sequel to that- it's a trilogy, folks), just so you know.

"Jeff! Jeff!" Matt yelled as he sprinted up the stairs to where his brother was lying and knelt down next to him. "Are you okay? What happened?" A million different possibilities and explanations were running through his head but at the forefront of everything was the question that had been there since the start of the whole mess: Was there anything I could've done to prevent this?

"Don't worry, I'm fine." Jeff tried to act unworried and calm, which was an incredibly hard thing to do when one was collapsed on the floor, panting from the effort of trying to stand, and still shaking. "I'm fine," he repeated.

"No, you're not," he said. "You cannot honestly tell me that you're "fine" when you just collapsed trying to walk out of your room. Now what's wrong?"

Jeff sighed, but complied and answered Matt. "My back, as usual," he muttered. "What else would be wrong?"

Matt rolled his eyes and tried not to look too annoyed with his brother. "Jeff, there are a million things that could've caused this besides your back, so work with me here. Act like I don't know anything and start over at the beginning."

"Well let's see, about five weeks ago on Raw I injured my back after having done a Swanton, but prior to this I had been feeling pain in my lower back for a couple of days," Jeff began. "I'd been ignoring the pain though, since I just assumed it was regular old back pain. I mean, c'mon Matt, we're wrestlers, of course I didn't assume it was anything serious."

"You know, we really should work on getting the others to move away from that mentality," Matt interrupted. "I mean, with our line of work it's pretty stupid to just assume that it's always going to be 'nothing'. And for the record, I did not want you to start at the literal beginning."

"Yeah I'll just tell Vince to start pounding that in their skulls the next chance I get." Jeff's voice was dripping with sarcasm, but a slight grin was starting to spread across his face as he purposely ignored Matt's last statement. "So what did we have the weekend before I injured my back- a house show, a signing, and a day off? It was something like that. Anyway, I assumed that I was just sore after the house show and then I thought that maybe my back just ached from sitting in a folding chair all day and I worked out the next day so I thought that maybe that was why it was hurting. By the time that Monday came around my back was still sore but I couldn't really back out of my match at this point-"

"What are you talking about? They wouldn't have made you fight if you weren't feeling well!" Matt interrupted his story for the second time that night.

"That's not the point, the fans were expecting me to wrestle and I couldn't let them down."

"Couldn't let them down or wouldn't, Jeff?"

"That's not important…" Jeff muttered. Though he's the exact same way most of the time, he thought to himself. He quickly continued the story so his brother couldn't harass him about his dedication to the fans anymore. "So I went down to my match and fought Orton. By the time I hit him with the Twist of Fate my back was absolutely killing me, but I went up for the Swanton anyway. He rolled out of the way, I hit the mat, and there was this burst of sharp pain in my lower back. You know all of this- I got hit with the RKO, you panicked, medics came out, questions, bothersome coworkers, more questions, etc. and finally we get shipped off to Dr. Smith.

"Not exactly the most pleasant woman in the world, is she?"

"No, now shut up. Anyway, we went to see Dr. Carleson and he didn't want me to have surgery 'cause he thought my back could heal just fine with therapy and the brace. So I was starting physical therapy when you got that phone call from Vince saying that both of us needed to be on Raw, which was more than slightly worrying, but I went anyway, against Dr. Carleson's wishes."

"Can you skip ahead to the parts I don't know?"

"You were the one who wanted the story in the first place!" Jeff yelled

"That was before I knew that you were just going to be retelling everything I was there for!"

"Fine. So skipping ahead, I was stuck in that damn wheelchair and was forced to wear the brace by Dr. Carleson. I was rolled down to the ring. Orton and I started yelling and then he attacked me. I could tell he was trying not to hurt my back, which was good because it was really killing me that day for some reason. Anyway, you came down, he threw you over the top rope, and I knocked him down.

After that, I was pissed at being stuck in the wheelchair on live TV and then only being able to get one good punch in. I wasn't really thinking straight…"

"I could tell."

"…so I took off my back brace and started to climb up the turnbuckle. With all the adrenaline in my body I didn't even feel the pain in my back until I hit the mat. When I hit him it was nothing like the first Swanton. It was ten times more painful than that and it hurt so much to even just roll off of him.

"I think that was really the beginning of all of this for me. I started my "new and improved" physical therapy but it hurt more than it did the first time. I assumed that it was because my back was injured more, so I didn't tell you about it. I didn't want to worry you about it, since I knew that for some reason you were blaming yourself for it, but it didn't get better.

"I finally told Dr. Carleson about it, but he wouldn't give me any answers. "It's too early to tell," he kept saying. He gave me some pills to take to help with the pain and they did, a bit, but then I started noticing that it was becoming more painful to stand up or walk. When I told Dr. Carleson about that he looked worried but still, no answers. I don't know why I tried to hide it from you at this point, but I didn't want to admit that it felt like I was falling apart. It took me longer to walk around the house and physical therapy was absolutely excruciating, until finally they had to cut my session short yesterday. And still, no answers.

"Anyway, fast forward to now, five weeks from the initial injury, where I'm lying in a heap on the floor and my legs are unable to support me." Jeff gave a small, shaky laugh. "Bit of a difference from the high-flying daredevil of Monday night Raw, isn't it?"

Matt wasn't fooled by his brother's attempt to act calm and at least partially carefree. He knew Jeff was scared, really scared, about what wasn't being told to him. He knew that he was assuming the worst- his back was permanently damaged, he would never be able to wrestle again, he would be confined to a wheel chair, or other, similar, horrors. "Jeff, it's going to be alright," Matt started, but now it was Jeff's turn to interrupt him.

"How do you know? How the fuck do you know?" He was yelling again. "This isn't like the other times where we thought I could get through it. This isn't just back pain and some twitches in my legs, Matt. My back feels like it's on fire and I can't even fucking walk! So don't tell me it's going to be alright," his voice cracked slightly, but he continued anyway. "Don't fucking tell me it's going to be alright. I'm not a little kid anymore, Matt; I don't need you to lie to me anymore."

Matt didn't know what to say. He felt that small knot of guilt start to creep back into his stomach, reminding him that, because of what he didn't do, he inadvertently helped cause this. He pushed that thought away; it wouldn't do any good to think about what he could've done when Jeff needed help now. Still, what could he do? He had to admit that he had been coddling Jeff to a certain degree in recent weeks, but he was his older brother and he had a right to keep him safe, didn't he? It hurt to know that not only was there nothing he could do to help his brother but it seemed like Jeff didn't even appreciate his efforts anymore.

Matt took a deep breath and tried to stay calm, partially for Jeff's sake and partially so he didn't just snap at his brother. "Fine," he said quietly. "I won't lie to you anymore- you seem pretty screwed right now. But, there is no reason why this couldn't just be a temporary thing." Jeff looked like he was about to interrupt, so Matt held his hand up to stop him. "Look, can you just let me finish talking, please?" Jeff shut his mouth and glared at his brother, but ultimately listened to him and didn't say anything.

"Both Dr. Smith and Dr. Carleson said that there was nerve compression as well as vertebra problems, so this is probably just because of that," Matt reasoned. "Nerve compression doesn't always have to lead permanent damage, so there is a chance that is just a temporary thing."

For the first time since he had collapsed Jeff was silent, thinking about what his brother had said and was actually starting to calm down a bit. When he thought about he knew that his brother was most likely right. He wasn't sure if he was convinced that the damage wasn't permanent, since it seemed a bit hard to believe given how much his legs had been hurting recently, but he realized that it was a possibility nonetheless. "Fine," he finally said. "Fine, I guess you could be right, but that still doesn't help the situation here." Or tell me if I'm ever going to be able to wrestle again, he silently added.

Matt's face broke into a huge grin as Jeff was talking; it certainly was relieving to, for once, hear him respond to a situation rationally instead of just snapping at him in anger without really thinking about things first. He could tell that he still wasn't convinced it was only a temporary thing, but it was still better than him flat-out refusing to even consider the possibility. "Jeff, are you forgetting what we do for a living?" He asked when Jeff finished talking. "I don't think it's going to be any problem for me to carry you downstairs."

"No."

Matt frowned. "What do you mean, 'no'? You can't just lie there forever!"

"I know, but I am not going to be carried around everywhere." Jeff wasn't going to be talked out of this decision. He knew that, at this point, it was rather stupid to be so adamant about this but he absolutely hated the idea of being reduced to being carried around by his brother.

"Do you think that if you leaned on me you could walk?" Matt suggested, despite the fact that it was obvious that Jeff wasn't going to be able to stand even if someone was helping him.

"We can try." Like his brother, Jeff doubted his ability to stand, but it was the only option he had, other than to be carried around.

Matt stood up, stretched, and held his hand out for Jeff. "C'mon, I'll pull you up." Jeff grabbed Matt's hand and tried to pull himself up, but his legs were still shaky and had a hard time supporting his weight. Matt grabbed onto his arm and dragged him up, only to have his brother lean against him. "You sure you want to try this?" Matt asked.

"Yes," Jeff ground out through clenched teeth; it was obvious that it hurt him to stand up.

"Fine, fine, we'll try this," Matt muttered. "Come on, just lean on me and we'll see if we can get to the top of the stairs at least." Matt took one step and slowly, shakily, Jeff followed suit. They took another step, and another before finally Jeff's legs gave out and he began to fall towards the floor.

"Woah, easy now…" Matt said as he caught his brother and cushioned his fall. "You alright."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jeff mumbled. "Guess this isn't really going to work though, is it?"

Matt decided that honesty was probably the best policy so he shook his head. "No, probably not," he admitted. "So I can either carry you downstairs and you can sit on the couch until I carry you back up here when you want to go to sleep or you could go to sleep now and save me the trouble of having to carry you up and down the stairs tonight."

Jeff scowled. "Just bring me to my room then," he told him, though his decision was less out of consideration for Matt and more due to the fact that he didn't want to be carried around more than absolutely necessary.

"Fine by me." Matt shifted slightly, moving the arm that was already under Jeff just a bit to allow him to pick up his brother without too much trouble and began staggering towards Jeff's room. "You know this would be easier if you held onto me too," he muttered after taking a few slow steps.

"True," Jeff admitted. "But there's no way I'm going to make it any easier for you to tell wedding night jokes."

Matt rolled his eyes and said, "I wasn't going to tell any."

"Of course you weren't."

"Now that you mention it though…" A wicked grin spread across Matt's face as he stepped over the threshold of Jeff's room.

"No, man, c'mon!" Jeff whined. "Just drop me on my bed or something!"

Matt complied… literally. "As you wish!" He grinned and dropped his brother onto his bed.

Jeff groaned as his back hit the mattress and he arched his back before curling up in a ball, his teeth clenched and his eyes screwed shut. "Damnit, Matt." His voice was thick was pain. "I wasn't being serious!"

"Oh shit!" Matt's face paled considerably as he realized what he did. "Jeff I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… I forgot!"

"It's okay," Jeff said, though his voice suggested otherwise. "Just leave me alone, okay? I think I'm gonna try to get some sleep."

Matt's guilt came back tenfold as he nodded and silently backed out of the room, the quiet click of the door echoing in the mostly silent house. He slowly walked down the stairs and collapsed on the couch. The TV was still on and, by the sounds of it, Raw was still in progress and someone was getting beat up. A quick glance at the screen confirmed his suspicions but he wasn't in any mood to watch and it was quickly turned off.

In a burst of anger he hurled the remote at the wall, watching with grim satisfaction as it shattered and fell to the floor. He had sworn that he wouldn't do anything to hurt Jeff again but less than ten minutes ago he had done just that. Unintentionally, sure, but it didn't change the fact that he wasn't thinking and he had hurt his brother again. Jeff may insist that nothing that had happened to him in recent weeks was Matt's fault, but he'd have a hard time convincing him that he was innocent, especially when the evidence that proved otherwise was continually growing.

The next morning Matt didn't bring up what he had inadvertently done to his brother the night before and Jeff didn't mention it either, though that may have been largely due to the fact that he was busy trying to talk Matt into finding a way so he wouldn't have to be carried into Dr. Carleson's office that day.

"I mean, c'mon Matt, there has to be some other way…"

"Well if you can think of another way then please, feel free to share it with me!" Matt snapped. "We've been over this already. You know you can't walk at all, even if I'm helping you! So unless you want me to call an ambulance or something…"

"You know, that would work…" Jeff murmured.

Matt groaned. "I wasn't serious! We are not going to call an ambulance."

It only took a few minutes for Matt to cave in to his brother and not long after that an ambulance had pulled up to the house. While Matt explained what his brother's back problem was and what had happened last night Jeff was quickly checked over by an EMT, loaded onto a stretcher, and put into the back of the ambulance. Matt climbed in after him, still trying to finish up his explanation of what exactly was going on, and the brothers were raced to the hospital.

When they arrived Jeff was rushed inside, admitted to the hospital, and brought to a room, with Matt following the group of nurses and doctors there. It was decided that he would have an MRI, and possibly a CT scan after that if it was necessary, in addition to the normal blood work to determine exactly what was going on with his back before they started any sort of treatment. So, not even twenty minutes after being admitted, he was wheeled off to get his various tests done before finally being brought back to his room.

"Man, if the person doesn't die from whatever they were brought here for then the stress of being rushed around everywhere is going to do them in!" Jeff joked after everyone except Matt had left the room. "You'd think they'd want things to be relatively calm so the person could get better, but no…"

"Well figuring out what's wrong with them so they can be treated is more important than anything else, you know." Jeff and Matt turned towards the door at the sound of a third person's voice, their eyes narrowing slightly as they saw Dr. Carleson standing there.

"Nice to see you finally decided to stop by, now for once will you just tell me what the hell is going on?" Jeff's voice had gotten slightly louder towards the end of his sentence and it was obvious that he was trying, with only partial success, to keep his anger under control.

"I'm sorry Jeff," he said. "I was busy looking at the results from your tests today."

"And?" He asked. "What's the diagnosis?"

"Your current leg problem is definitely due to the nerve compression in your back," Dr. Carleson explained. "When your disk slipped farther a few weeks ago I told you that the nerve compression was more severe but it's worse than I originally thought it was."

"Is it permanent?" Jeff's voice was quiet, his anger completely gone and replaced with fear and apprehension. He wouldn't admit it, but he was terrified that the damage in his legs couldn't be treated.

Dr. Carleson hesitated for a moment, as if he was unwilling to answer his question. Jeff closed his eyes and mentally prepared himself for the bad news, but it wasn't quite what he expected it to be. "Jeff, I'm afraid that this can't be taken care of with conservative treatment anymore. You're going to need to have surgery as soon as possible… or you may never be able to walk again."