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He was trembling, the anger pulsing through his veins like a living being. He fisted his hands, digging the nails into the skin and growled furiously.

Foursome? Seriously?

They couldn’t do that, right? They couldn’t just throw him out like that. There were contracts and legal bindings and everything. He had made pretty sure of that when his voice had first started acting up.

AJ was just messing with him, right?

Right.

Right?

Uncertain, Brian bit his lip as he let his eyes fly across the suffocating confines of his room. He suddenly felt very much like a prisoner. A stab of panic raced through him and it was almost like it became harder and harder to breathe the longer he stayed here.

But he couldn’t leave.

Or could he?

He eyed the wheelchair thoughtfully, contemplating his actions. He could make it, he was certain of that. It wasn’t a big deal. But dear Lord, he hated those things. They made people seem weak and fragile.

And he was not weak.

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the blankets and removed the in one motion. He groaned as he felt the courage dropping a few inches when he studied his legs.

The scars were fresh and vulnerable looking on the left. The right was as absent as ever. How was he ever going to make it out of bed?

He nodded to himself, stubbornly planting his hands on either side of him. He would get out of bed, into that chair and tell AJ exactly how he thought about things.

Slowly, he moved to the edge of the bed, squeezing his eyes shut as a small, but fiery pain shot through his broken leg. He let out the breath he was holding as he felt the edge and biting his lip in determination, he grabbed a hold of the numb limb and swung it over the edge.

“Mother of f-,”

He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from swearing out loud. For something so numb and seemingly lifeless, the pain was incredible. It wasn’t a great idea to move when you shattered your leg. He made a mental note of that. Sitting on the edge of the bed now, he moved the other leg, which was surprisingly painless in comparison. Regaining a bit of courage, he eyed his goal intently. He could do it, it wasn’t that hard. Sure, it hurt a little bit here and there, but what goal wasn’t ever achieved with a little bit of pain? And most importantly: he could do it alone.

He was not weak.

With one last bit of self-motivation, he reached out and grabbed one of the wheelchairs handles. There.

That wasn’t hard.

Now came a bit of a difficult part though. How was he going to shift his weight without letting go of the chair or the bed? Frowning, he shoved the chair a few times, testing its stability. Grinning slightly, he glanced over at the door. If anyone could see what he was trying to do, they would certainly freak out.

Slowly, he leaned over and took hold of one armrest. He cautiously shifted his weight until all of it was supported by his arms. He felt them tremble and for a split second, he was certain that this was not the greatest idea after all. He was half off the bed now and half in the chair. His smile faltered, as did his arms and he grabbed hold of whatever he could to keep his balance. The chair moved when it was released from the brakes and Brian felt himself falling to the floor.