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15. Temporary Fix

Author's Note: The next few chapters are a bit... dramatic. Out of character for me, I know.

15. Temporary Fix

Harry led Scott into a room in the hotel, which was left ajar. He noted that the blond had been quiet for their short walk together, and he wondered if he had done something wrong.

He listened as the chiropractor spoke at Scott instead of to him, and he became instantly annoyed.

Scott appeared to be on autopilot as the man asked him to take his shirt off, and he complied without a word. The chiropractor walked away for a moment, and Harry approached his new friend, warily.

"Are you alright? You look... mad."

Scott's eyes softened. "No. I'm not mad. I just hate... this."

"Hate what?" Harry asked, suddenly concerned.

Scott shrugged, choosing to look at the floor. "Alignment."

"How do you know that that's what they're gonna do?"

Scott smiled. "I have scoliosis, remember?" he said, smirking. "I know what needing an alignment feels like."

"And you were just going to keep going without one?" Harry asked. He didn't know much about this, but that certainly didn't sound like a good idea.

"Alright, Scott. Let's take a look," the man said as he returned, circling behind him and hitting him in the back three times with the heel of his hand. Scott inhaled sharply at the abrupt and rough contact.

Harry bit his tongue, wanting desperately to yell at the man. His eyes narrowed. Scott smirked at that as he returned his gaze to the floor.

The blond let out a long breath as the man's hands travelled over his lower back. Instead of easing up at the sign of discomfort, the man grabbed Scott's hips, jamming his thumbs on either side of his spine. Scott's back arched reflexively, and he clenched his eyes shut.

"For crying out loud, can you take it easy?" Harry snapped, reaching for Scott's hand before he could stop to think.

The chiropractor smirked, muttered an apology, and turned away for another moment. Harry ran his thumb over Scott's knuckles, wishing that he had known more about this before essentially forcing Scott into it.

"What the actual hell is that?" Harry asked, his eyes widening as he looked over Scott's shoulder.

"It's just a massage gun," Scott said, smiling, without turning to look at it.

"A what?" Harry looked at him with pity, hating himself even more for putting him in this situation.

"Alright, Scott. We'll adjust with just my hands first, then use the gun," he looked up at Harry and smirked. Harry looked at him as a nonverbal warning that he wouldn't hesitate to use it on this son of a bitch if push came to shove. Scott smirked and squeezed his hand for a moment. Harry's eyes softened as he looked at their clasped hands. "Lay down on your back for me, okay?" The chiropractor asked.

I'd like to adjust you with MY hands, Harry thought, eyeing the evil man.

The man shifted Scott so his knees were to his side, and tears pricked his eyes at the feeling of his spine being twisted.

"You can wait outside, if you want?" Scott asked, and Harry knew that he had said it only because Harry appeared to be so uncomfortable.

He shook his head, squeezing his hand again.

Scott clenched his eyes shut as the hands returned to his lower back. Harry nearly fainted as a loud crack filled the room.

He stared at Scott in shock.